Journal

This is an occasional journal about how my life affects my writing and my writing affects my life. This journal is not to be a classic blog, in other words it's not interactive. It will not have photos either. Or links. Nor do I expect to write in it every day. And I don't want to have to moderate the thing.

However, if you read something here that you want to respond to, send me email (janeyolen@aol.com) and I will write back. Please say whether or not you agree to have your email quoted somewhere in "Telling the True." I like getting questions from my readers--whether you are a writer or a book fancier, a teacher, librarian, or child.

Note that the order of the entries is most recent first. Entries from earlier days are archived.

September 30, 2005:

I lied. Still more catch-up, though I have very little to add. I got through 2/3 of the revisions sent by Bob Harris for ROGUE'S APPRENTICE, the fourth and last book of our Scottish Quartet--this one deals with the Clearances. So except for physical therapy, I applied BIC and worked on what Bob sent me.About seven hours of work.

Only other book news: BABY BEAR'S CHAIRS is a Best Book pick from the Tribune Media Service (30 newspapers nationwide, including the Chicago Tribune and the L.A. Times. Sweet. . .along with the illustrator who is Melissa Sweet! A Chelsea House biography of me will be out soon. And I sent Heidi the BAD GIRLS proposal. I know, I know, she lives in the same house. But that works for us.

September 27-29, 2005:

I know, I know, I'm a slacker. Well, not really. I have been having back trouble, working things out with the physical therapist, trying out a new electric muscle stimulation machine they'd given me for home use, revising ROGUE'S APPRENTICE with Bob Harris, rewriting the first chapters of DRAGON'S HEART, sassyfying the rest of the proposal for BAD GIRLS, paying bills, going to writer's group, getting a haircut, taking care of David in the first difficult days after a chemo infusion, choosing a new carpet for the stairs and back hall, staying out of the New-House-For-Heidi wars, etc. I mean--give me a break.

What you really want to know is--how is the book business these days. So I will tell you.

Read Magazine is doing a Reader's Theater adaptation of PAY THE PIPER in an upcoming issue. (Which took some backing and forthing.) Ditto Paradox Magazine, which specializes in historical fiction/historical fantasy and poetry, and has accepted three of my poems: two Scottish poems (one about Fife names and one about the Edinburgh Soldier's Memorial at the castle) and one of my Emily Dickinson sonnets.

I have had word from Writer's Digest that it is time for me to do the TAKE JOY (Take Two) index, so that is on next week's docket.

Some correspondence with the World Fantasy folk about being on panels. Some corresondence with Jabberwocky magazine which has a poem of mine in an upcoming issue. Some correspondence with the author of a biography of me, and how she is sending on 4 copies of the finished product. Dealing (though my agent) with a communityn theater in Winston-Salem doing an adaptation of THE DEVIL'S ARITHMETIC this January. A new bio written and sent to Harper for my upcoming book (with Jim Burke paintings) of JOHNNY APPLESEED. At the same time the editor turned down 5 book proposals.

Discussions with my agent about the offered contracts on the three HIPPO board books (Key Porter, Canadian publisher), the J. M. BARRIE picture book (Dutton), the two new DINOSAUR board books and the new HOW DO DINOSAURS GO TO SCHOOL (Scholastic). All but the BARRIE are already written. An almost-but-not-quite acceptance of the GOLEM novel, next in the Tor Rock n' Reel fairy tale series Adam and I are writing.

And helping set up a lunch with Rubin Pfeffer, the new head of S&S children's division (under Rick Richter) for Heidi and me, as well as sending him as complete a listing of the local children's book authors and illustrators as I can muster.

I call all of the above "being nibbled to death by ducks." But it is also all necessary when one is a professional (ie. making a living at this stuff.)

I will try and be more forthcoming over the next few days and not just play catch-up. However, now I am all caught up. See how easy that was? Start asking me REAL questions. I am tired of the emails that say R U A RL ARTHUR? (I am NOT making this up.)

September 26, 2005:

We continued the re-testing of the recipes for FAIRY TALE FEASTS, which means Heidi is cooking (out of order) a variety of things. Today for example, we had deviled eggs, shrimp/lamb/chicken kebabs, cucumber salad in yogurt sauce, pear grumble for dessert.

David in the slow days immediate aftermath of chemo kept us at home. So I worked for five hours on DRAGON'S HEART. Adding texture. A few minor characters get more than a walk-on. I try not to rush into slam-bang action but rather establish the scene and the attitudes. Named this section SECRETS which helps guide me.

We accepted the J. M. BARRIE offer, though still fiddling with contractual details. Heard from several editors who are still/yet/again in wait mode. In a couple of weeks my agent goes to the Frankfurt Book Fair and tries to seel things to foreign publishers. We call any foreign sales "found money" in this house.

September 25, 2005:

This day was bookended by two great meals. We started with a brunch at Wiggins Tavern--the extended family: David and me, Heidi and Maddison, Glen and her boyfriend Jason. We did serious damage to the foodchain there. The day ended with a lovely dinner (featuring the same six) at our friend Jan's house. After which we viewed the house which Jan has been renovating out in Whatley which is about to go on the market. It is, arguably, the oldest house in Whatley and was in a condemned shape before she bought it. She has brought it back to life, added a house to the house as it were, given it a 3/4 porch around, and made it into a million-dollar property up for sale at $750,000 and well worth it. It has Sugarloaf Mountain to its back, the Connecticut River running nearby, and is gorgeous.

In-between those two meals, some book news. The ELIJAH story ("Slipping Sideways Through Eternity") has been accepted by the editors of the wizard's anthology with a brief note. And I worked on the first chapter (again) of DRAGON'S HEART, breaking it into two and making it more textured. I think I am--finally--on the right track. Sigh. That was about four hours worth of writing, and it felt great.Starting a piece--whether novel or short story or picture book--always seems simple until things go wrong. And then what is even harder is making the decision that all that work has to be thrown out or totally reconstructed. Like Jan's old house. After days, weeks, months of writing, to throw it away seems an appalling waste of time and talent. But remember, what one throws away is scaffolding. Without its help, the structure will never stand on its own. And when the author finally gets the bloody thing right, why the scaffolding practically dismantles itself. (I only hope I am at that moment in this novel.)

September 24, 2005:

I began reading the sequel to the Shannon Hale novel, called ENNA BURNING, took David for his white cell count shot, did five crossword puzzles, wrote a bit (part transcribing since the opening had never been in the computer) of a piece called CHERRY SUMMERS. Whether it is to be a short story or a novel a la Alice Hoffman I have no idea. It's only about 500 words so far. Cleaned up my desk and computer desktop.

I am now down to No Excuses on doing big work. Let's see what happens.

September 23, 2005:

Chemo day. David tolerated this 4th chemo treatment like a trooper. And I got to read all of Shannon Hale's lovely GOOSE GIRL which used various pieces of the fairy tale--the wind blowing off Conrad's hat, the bad serving girl, the ring, and of course Falada the horse whose head on the impost of the archway speaks to the princess cum Goose Girl--in very interesting ways.

When we came home, I found that Dutton had made an offer on a new picture book biography--of J. M. Barrie, author of Peter Pan. We will wrestle for a bit with the contract, of course, but I am delighted. Same publisher and same wonderful editor as the Hans Christian Andersen book, THE PERFECT WIZARD.

Heidi and her girls made a delicious carrot soup for dinner using the recipe from our upcoming cookbook, FAIRY TALE FEASTS.

September 20-22, 2005:

Tuesday I had blood work done early morning (fasting, ugh) and then writer's group, where I read the new DIMITY DUCK which solicited two very small questions.

Wednesday-Thursday David and I ran away from home.

Actually, he was so stir crazy, and chemo begins again on Friday, so we went off for an overnight to an inn in Vermont. Along the way we stopped at the Carter's Outlet store in Brattleboro to get stuff for the youngest three grandkids (everyone else is too big for that store!) and then off on small back roads heading north. Along the way we stopped in at a couple of (not good) antique stores, saw one very confused juvenile cormorant in a pond (he should have been migrating along the coast with the rest of his clan!) and four separate flocks of turkeys (three were grown hens with young ones, one was a stag party of young toms.)I wanted to see bear and moose, but except for the large painted statues of moose all over the streets of Benngton--their answer to New York City's cow statues--the fauna cupboard was bare. The leaves were only just beginning to turn, but we love peeking at houses, scenery, wetlands, newgrowth and old growth forests, as well as check out the little towns.

We found where Grandma Moses had lived, and fantasized how all the folks in town had probably had two or three paintings apiece, given to them on birthdays or christenings or purchased for a few dollars at the town 's annual auction. And no one had thought very much of old Gran's little pictures, until she became "discovered" and world-famous, and then wasn't there a scramble to remember in which closet or attic or basement they sat in, mildewed or torn or crumpled. A fantasy, as I say, which probably has nothing to do with what really happened.

We found a lovely deli for lunch, a cafe for afternoon tea, and then made it as far north as Dorset, before heading south a few miles to Manchester where we found a lovely old inn with an attached restaurant. Since it was off-season, we got a great bargain--a room with a king-size four poster draped bed, bathroom, and sitting room, plus breakfast for $149. Dinner was expensive, but I had lamb chops, he had duck. It was so quiet in the room, I could hear us breathe and we both slept like babies.

After breakfast we took off on the smaller roads looking (again) for moose and bear but found none.

Got home in time to get to the surveyor and ok the plot lines. (That makes him sound like a novelist!) And then to a local furniture store to look at lights, and finally to the bank to finalize the loan with which we will build Heidi's house.

The doctor called about my bloodwork. My calcium was fine, but thyroid low. I have to be more careful about when I take it.

My email had piled up over the two days. Lee Hopkins turned down the three new poems I wrote for his latest collection. I heard that HOW DO DINOSAURS EAT THEIR FOOD? is #10 on the New York Times bestseller list under "Series". That Key Porter will be buying all 3 of the HIPPO books for board books, and had already made an offer to my agent.

I also heard that one of my dearest friends in high school, the boy who had taken me to my senior prom, Chuck Kline, had died suddenly last year of pancreatic cancer. We had reconnected two years ago at the National Book Festival, where he introduced me to his lovely wife. So sad. And I also learned that several of my Houston friends had evacuated because of Hurricane Rita, though two had decided to stay put. I don't know who I am more worried about--the ones who are leaving or the ones who are staying.

September 19, 2005:

Talk Like a Pirate Day. Arrrr. I spent a lot of time playing with this, with my SEA QUEENS editor as well as with Maddison.

Book news--all good. And not even a rejection letter in the bunch. What is the world coming to?

A small independent producer may be making an offer on PAY THE PIPER for a movie. T'would be exciting.

Starred review for ONCE UPON A TIME (SHE SAID) in Library Journal. Including: "this collection of over 80 short stories, poems, and essays demonstrates the vast mythic scope and natural storytelling ability of one of the most prolific and appealing crafters of the genre." Wahoo.

More on the new "Winter Queen's Reel/Jane Yolen's Reel" at: http://www.greenmanreview.com/whats_new.html

And HOW DO DINOSAURS EAT THEIR FOOD? debuted at the #8 spot at Publisher's Weekly's Bestsellers. Hurrah!

No writing, but a lot of fiddling with great piles of stuff.

September 18, 2005:

David, Heidi, Maddison, and I went out for a lovely HUGE brunch at Wiggins Tavern in Northampton. Though we ate as much as we could, they sure didn't lose money on us!

I spent most of the day reading (and finishing) Adam's wonderful novel, SINGER OF SOULS. It doesn't read at all like a first novel. This was actually my sixth time reading it, but the other five times was in manuscript. And all the things I noted, he not only fixed, he improved mammothly upon. What a storyteller he is. Extremely dark, but humorous, too. (And not just Mom talking as he got a starred review in Book List and Anne Mc Caffrey blurbed it by saying it was the best first novel she'd ever read!)

I did a bit of writing, revising (yet again) DIMITY DUCK'S BIRTHDAY. It seemed--finally--right #7! So I emailed it off to my British publisher. And now the long wait. (It took two years to sell the first two.) I can't say that I am ever going to get used to these long waits. But by having a lot of stuff out there, possibilities always abound.

September 17, 2006:

This early morning, before my it’s-going-to-rain-today headache began, I spent a couple hours rewriting and adding a major section to DIMITY DUCK’S BIRTHDAY. I think I am almost there.

David and I took a walk along the dike and were going to go further, but it turned too hot and we barely straggled home.

Then I drove to a neighbor’s house to deliver a copy of APPLE FOR THE TEACHER because Adam had dedicated his part to her--Joyce Rankin, his first piano teacher. He had a great fondness for her, a lovely lady who played both as church organist and in pop bands. She died earlier in the year, but knew that the book was dedicated to her for I’d told her. I gave the book to her daughter, and spoke a bit with her husband as well. It was a bittersweet moment.

Came back to do yet another DIMITY DUCK’S BIRTHDAY pass and think now I have finally (6th revision) nailed it. I added another whole section, moved some things around, filed off the serial numbers (oops, wrong reference!) and if I still like it on Monday will send it off. This little sequel has taken me about a year of working on and off. Whoever thinks picture books are easy to do. . .Of course I have NO idea if the publisher (HarperUK) will want a third book with the first two not out yet. But the fact that they have just sold the book to a top American publisher may tip the balance.

Then because the headache meant I could no longer concentrate on work or reading (I am reading my son’s novel SINGER OF SOULS) I got sucked into a truly stupid Bruce Willis murder mystery on the tv.

A night of nightmares, not sure why. I was up and down a lot. Probably the back end of Ophelia affecting the atmosphere, though once it rained, the headache packed up and went wherever old headaches go to die.

September 16, 2005:

I reworked the first part of the sassy BAD GIRLS proposal, which took about 1 ½ hours.

Wrote a humorous verse for a retiring bookseller friend. 1 hour.

Fiddled with DRAGON'S HEART. 1 hour.

Answered more online questions about writing. 1 hour.

Wrote another humorous YA editor piece. 1/2 hour.

In other words, not a lot of real writing.

Heard that a companion book to THE PERFECT WIZARD, my Dutton picture book biography of Hans Christian Andersen, might go through. I won’t say who the book is about till it’s nailed down. My Scholastic editor says that Mark Teague is just about finished with the art for the two new HOW DO DINOSAURS board books. As I had sent the editor text for three board books, I don’t know which two they are doing, nor have I seen any sketches, nor have we ever talked about revisions, nor do I have contracts yet. I think my head is spinning around, like the girl in Poltergeist.

Took David to the doctor who continues to be pleased with his progress. He gave David the go-ahead to attend his 50th high school reunion in West Virginia. Since David can’t get down there on his own, I am going to have to go, too. Part of me was hoping the doctor was going to tell him no! But he has his heart set on going, and I know and love a couple of his old friends, so we will make the best of it, though I will have to do the driving on the tricky mountain roads. Also we will get to visit with two of his brothers. We will be carrying enough medicines to stock a pharmacy, but what do you want to bet we will still not have what we need for a particular problem. Anyway, it will be during the third week after chemo, his best week, so I hope all will be fine.

Our friends Matt and Corinne brought over a Chinese dinner and gooey Italian desserts and we all feasted like kings and queens (and a little princess.) Since Matt has been a 5th grade teacher (he now teaches 6th grade) he was right there with Maddison. I believe a good time was had by all.

September 15, 2006:

Handyman over doing jobs around the house. At last. Gutters cleaned. Porch light fixed. More tomorrow. All those jobs that we can no longer do ourselves.

David had a long nap.

I got a bit of writing (maybe 2 hours worth) done on the first chapter of DRAGON HEART and some fun playing about with Rafe Martin and other children’s book friends on a possible anthology of editorial letters to famous authors (Mark Twain, Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte etc.) on how to make their books into YA or teen romances or teen scifi. I don’t know if anything will ever come of it, but it was fun for the 2-3 hours it lasted.

Spoke to Arthur Yorinks about the radio show, heard from Mike Resnick about a round robin novel I promised to do a chapter for, a phone call came from the Springfield newspapers who are publishing the serialization of DISAS-TOUR, Got an author’s copy of THE RHYSLING volume that has my poem about Seth, the fan who was killed at age 17 in a car crash. Lots of small stuff.

Then off for errands--car gassed up (whosh! is that expensive!), bank, groceries.

Too rainy (edge of Ophelia) for us to walk.

September 13-14, 2005:

These last two days have been full of meetings (with the builder, with my writing group) and dinners (at the DeTerlizzi's), lots of errands, lots and lots of phone calls, lots of cleaning, lots of traveling around. David came along on Wednesday and it was his first really long day out, tiring, but he managed, which was great.

And guess what--little writing.

This is the writing I DID get done: worked a bit on the CHANUKAH book (maybe two hours worth), diddled about with the third DIMITY DUCK book (fifteen frustrating minutes), rewrote a picture book nonfiction proposal on a famous baseball player (more when that is actually sold.) Total—two days, less than three hours of writing in all.

Worked out with Scholastic that they will send the brave young burned boy and his family a box of the paperbacks of HOW DO DINOSAURS GET WELL SOON to be distributed in the hospital. And I am sending him signed bookmarks. Plus I am sending him a stuffed dino. The publisher (pushed by my editor Bonnie V) really stepped up to the plate on this one.

Book news: The DIMITY DUCK picture books, which are being published first in England, will be published in this country by Philomel, something I just learned . Yeah! And Philomel's editor Pat G is looking very favorably at two picture book biographical books. More about those if they get taken. (One being the baseball player not quite mentioned above.)

September is shaping up to be a great month book-wise. But not great writing-wise.

September 12, 2005:

Another lovely day, and so David and I walked along the dike again. Saw some birds beginning with a Carolina wren that has taken up residence at our house, lovely wildflowers we couldn't name, breathed the fresh air, marveled at how beautiful a small New England town can look at the beginning of fall when summer is just letting go of a few bits of green.

This was such a typical book day, I thought it would be good to remind us all of how minutia trips up the writer's best intentions. I planned to start again on the 4th Pit Dragon book, DRAGON’S HEART, and indeed I had gotten a good head up on the first chapter. But then the phone rang—my agent—and we had about fifteen minutes worth of stuff to talk over.

Then I checked my email—a flurry of backing and forthing on the title and subtitle of the BABY’S FIRST POETRY book which now looks as if it will be called HERE’S A LITTLE POEM: A Very First Book of Poetry.

Then some backing and forthing on the ELIJAH story which had to be resent in a different format.

Some flurries on email re an intro I did for a friend’s collection of stories several years ago. The book is just coming out now, so I had to read the intro over to make sure it was fine before the book goes to press, which it was.

Then a flurry of emails trying to set up a signing/reading at a Ct. bookstore.

Then, because I am on a new listserve as Author of the Week, I had a couple of in-depth questions to answer.

A last minute question on BABY BEAR’S BOOKS came up. It had to do with a comma or period. Grammarians would prefer the period. The poet would prefer the comma. I threw it back in the editor’s lap. She sided with the poet. Nice.

Also a flurry of emails back and forth to Leonard Marcus about a new radio show for kids. They would like me to write something, and I said I would.

Ah lunchtime, where we always watch back-to-back episodes of “Judging Amy” while we eat. I know—guilty pleasures.

Then as I worked on this list (more stalling) I got a phone call from the man who fixes our copier, making sure we’d be in.When he arrived, another small interruption.

Then I had to sign five books from a constant collector who sends me copies of all my newest books.

You can see how all the "thens" add up.

At last I went back to DRAGON’S HEART. But first I reread the ending of the last book once again and made a horrifying discovery. One of my important plot revelations I hoped to make by the end of this book had been given away already. Well, of course—I had never planned to write a fourth book. Ever. Therefore I was winding things up in book 3. <Grinds teeth and gets back to work.> So, all I actually did today was rework chapter 1 YET AGAIN. And I am still not happy with it. It is lumpen and has to remind the reader of too much back story, especially the reader for whom it is a first attempt at the Pit Dragon books. I must think about this. Some more.

At day's end came an email from a woman who's son's hospitalization was made bearable in part by repeated readings of HOW DO DINOSAURS GET WELL SOON. This is what she said:

Dear Ms. Yolen: My son, N loves your books. On July 31 he was badly burned and spent a week in the burn unit of <our local> hospital. His bravery and strength amazed me. I am not sure I could have gone through some of the things he endured. One ofhis favorite things while we were in the hospital was to read How Do Dinosaurs Get Well soon over and over and over. The day we were leaving the hospital he asked me if he could use his birthday money (he turned 6 three weeks before the accident) to buy some copies for the other kids in the burn unit to have. I was so touched by his generosity. N's grandparents and my husband and I are "chipping in" on the project but I am trying to find out if that book comes in a paperback version as I have been unable to find it on the internet or at any of the local bookstores. We were hoping to provide a case of copies to the children's hospital where he was first treated before being transferred to the burn unit. . .land, certainly, paperback books would allow us a chance to buy more books. Is this book available in paperback and where could I find it? Thanks so much and keep writing!

And of course I had to respond, and let my editor know. And of course I will keep writing. Letters like this remind me how little the minutia of the day matters and how much the books do.

September 11, 2005:

What a lovely day. David and I took another walk along the dike and then went over to the town's book sale and antique car rally. Such a small town moment! We had hotdogs served by the fire department, got a close look (and explanation) by the fire department's chief of the antique rally-only cabless fire engine. Bought a mystery novel I devoured later that afternoon. (Not very good.) Talked to neighbors about the state of volunteerism. Said one, "I am 75 and there are no young people. . ."--I think she meant in their 40s!--"who want to do any of this." Talked to another who said, "How can anyone call these cars antiques when I am older than they are?" And then we walked home in the lovely lambent afternoon.

I read the not very good novel, paid bills, caught up on correspodence, hugged my granddaughters, called my daughter-in-law to sing Happy Birthday (she was 30 on the day the Towers fell!) David was feeling terrific. Heidi cooked a wonderful meal. Nothing got written--and that was alright, too.

Gathering day.

Interstitial moment:

Cool news: the three Pit Dragon books are in Braille:

1. BR 10937 Dragon's Blood

2. BR 13401 Heart's Blood

3. BR 13576 A Sending of Dragons

Also I seem to be part of a Peter David word game: http://peterdavid.malibulist.com/archives/001899.html This is how it worked: “Me Tarzan, you Jane Yolen.” So much for fame.

September 9-10, 2005:

Family crisis resolved. Thanks for your patience. Though a new one is brewing as Jason and his family live in the possible path of hurricane Ophelia in Charleston, SC. But as Jason said, “We will pack the kids and the dog in the car and leave early. We have good insurance.”

Book news: I worked both Friday and Saturday, in total about six hours, finally getting to the ending of the ELIJAH short story. Rewrote the ending three times. Had to go back three times and thread stuff through as well. Renamed a major character because I had stupidly given her the same name as her sister! (Bless computers.) All in all there are eleven files in the ELIJAH folder on my desktop. The whole thing is 5500 words long, titled “Slipping Sideways Through Eternity” and took months to write. Meant for an invitational YA anthology of wizard stories, it is based somewhat on a rabbinical story and somewhat on a slightly erotic poem of mine called “Open Door” published in Mudlark, an online journal: http://www.unf.edu/mudlark/posters/jy.html#Door I will not be surprised if they editors decide to reject it. It is not your traditional YA wizard story after all. If they do, I will make the rounds of magazines with it.

Other stuff: Our friend Pat, David, and I went for a walk on the dike that runs along the Connecticut River. As Pat said, “Who knew I could find two views in three minutes that I wanted to paint.” It was that kind of a day. Warm, lovely breeze, even cool in the shade. Heidi and the girls went bike riding on the Northampton bike path, then picked up three copies of Adam’s SINGER OF SOULS at B&N (the Indies weren’t carrying it) so that everyone could have a reading copy. After that they went to Smith College to bring Glen’s small fridge to her dorm room. On the way up the stairs, Heidi banged her arm so badly, it swelled up immediately. Not--we hope--actually broken, but bruised. We decided to take everyone out for dinner since Heidi was certainly not going to be in shape for making anything. I snuck out for an hour to go to Smith College for a wine and cheese party for the Smith volunteers. It was outdoors, on the plaza in front of the Mendenhall Arts complex. I got to chat with four or five classmates. On the way home, I tried calling to find where the family was eating. No one answered and I began to panic, thinking they were at the hospital and that Heidi's arm was worse than we'd thought. As I passed our local eatery, I saw her car in front. I parked and checked. It was the same kind of car, only not hers. But I went inside anyway—and there they all were! Okay, so maybe I’m not a great detective, only a lucky one!

And if you want to read about the Winter Queen reel being created in my honor, go to Greenman Review online. I am still smiling. http://www.greenmanreview.com/whats_new.html

September 8, 2005:

In the midst of a perfectly gorgeous late summer day there has been book news. Always a plus.

Now here is something that happens only once in a great while to me. Normally any picture book I write takes weeks, months—even years. But given the challenge of Wednesday’s conversation with editor Linda P, I spent yesterday and today working over and over six versions of three rhymed HIPPO board books. One is on Hippo moods (I could just visualize a hippo in a time-out-chair!!!) and two completely different hippo books about color. One shows hippos in various colorful outfits. One is a very simple story rhyme about making art: posing, painting, framing, showing it, and carrying it home to the wallow!

Now comes the amazing part: I sent these off by email to Linda P, and four hours later I receive a note saying she thought they were “adorable” and she wanted to think about them and cost them out. Now all this can fall through, of course, but she still gets my vote for Editor of the Week. Maybe even of the month. We will see.

More good book news: Saw the FTF layouts which are charming and readable, perfect for a book of fairy tales and recipes. Will be going over them tomorrow with Heidi. She and Maddison were away on a 5th grade picnic so couldn't do it after school.

And then, of course, the predictably bad news had to occur as well: the option on HIPPOLYTA was not being picked up.

Notice how fugue-like my day: from Hippos to Hippolyta, up to down. Or down to up. Depending on which way one reads it.

A quick note about editors, the good, the bad, and the extreme black holes. I am not a person of infinite patience. My husband would tell you I have no patience at all. But what I have no patience for is an editor who does not return calls, emails, letters. To begin with, it is a simple courtesy. But even more, in this peculiar field I have chosen as my lifework, good editors keep me going. Goodness knows, unless you are a J. K. Rowling or an Eric Carle or Maurice Sendak, most of us are not going to get rich writing children’s books. Many of us cannot even pay the simplest bills with what we take in per month. We write for pleasure, because we have something to say, because a story is knocking at our door. What makes the long waits between books, between the stages of bookmaking, bareable is knowing that we have a cheerleader on our side, someone who is smart and steady and knowledgeable, someone willing to roll up her sleeves and get down there in the creative dirt with us. Someone we can trust to midwife and then godmother our baby, dress the child properly, feed it, water it, take it out into the world. (I know—overdone metaphor alert!!!) So when that editor turns out to be untrustworthy, doesn’t get back in a reasonable time about what is happening to said child off in the world, or dresses her funny, we moms and dads get understandably frustrated. We get unhappy, Damn it—we get furious. Our stomachs roil, our pulses race. And it’s hard to keep working at the top of your abilities under those circumstances. And yet many editors these days seem to fall somewhere between the bad and the extreme black holes. Maybe they are overworked and underpaid. Maybe they don’t have good help. Maybe they are fighting the Suits. Maybe they are about to jump ship to a new publisher. Maybe they are dying, moving west, or starting a boutique (the name of a workshop on editors and publishers I have given many times at SCBWI conferences.) All good excuses. But as an author, I don't need editor's excuses. I need a timely response.

So an editor like Linda P seems almost. . .too good to be true.

Stay tuned.

September 6-7, 2005:

A family crisis dictates short notes. Not my husband’s health. But that is all I am going to say about it. Please don’t write and ask. Thanks.

Books news:

I did sell those two small picture books to Key Porter, a Canadian literary publisher. UNDER THE STAR (a Christmas counting rhyme) and ONE HIPPO HOPS (another counting rhyme) will be board books. And after a lovely conversation on the phone with the editor, Linda P, I have been attempting a companion Hippo book (actually am working on two—one about colors, one about feelings.) Since it has taken almost ten years to sell these little books, that alone tells you about the state of the industry. I even dreamed last night one whole new HIPPO book of which, this morning, I can only remember a bit.

The FTF problems are being solved. We hope. I could say all it took was stamping my pretty little foot. But as I wear a size 91/2, that's not quite true.

The DANCE book problems are getting worked out as well.

That’s all for now. Sorry to be curt. I am short of sleep, been reading too many horror stories out of New Orleans, and have just heard this: “[The Martha Stewart apprentices’ first task will be] taking two well-known children’s stories, *Jack and the Beanstalk* and *Hansel and Gretel*, and adapting them for the modern child. The contestants had to rewrite the story, have an artist illustrate it, edit it, print, and promote, all in a very short amount of time. The children’s-book business is gigantic. I’m certainly an active proponent of that industry.”

Damn. Now everyone will know the secret--writing children's books takes "a short amount of time" and you find your own illustrator and print it and promote and make lots of money. I'd hoped to keep that secret to myself!

September 5, 2005:

This day was a bit lr David, though expected. Chemo has its own rhythms. We went for a very short walk because it was so lovely out, but otherwise stayed close to home.

Glen was busy sorting through things to take back to college. As she is a second semester senior, and will only be there through December, she's planning to live pretty sparsely. (Though I will believe that when I see it halfway through the term. She's quite the pack rat.)

I tackled the first half of FTF pretty thoroughly. It is clear that there was not only no editing done, there was no copyediting done either. So gritting my teeth, I went through it comma by comma, and spell check/dictionary by parenthesis. Got about halfway through, spending close to seven hours on it. Since this was sent in as a proposal in 2000, bought early in 2002, delivered fall 2002--the 19th numbered version on our own--I would have hoped for an edited mss. in 2003. By 2004 I was getting anxious. It's now the end of 2005 and the editor has sent word that they are going on press in December. After I made many groans, I was told to look over the manuscript I sent them originally. #19. Back in 2002. Except for about four tiny queries sent over the holiday weekend by the Canadian editor, there was nothing touched. But as I go over it, I find massive amounts of things that need correcting, that an even halfway decent copyeditor would have found. And I am no copyeditor. Things like periods missing. Doubled-up words. Capitalization not consistent. And yes, I should have fixed that before we ever sent it in. But I was waiting for the first go-round of editing, which never arrived. Gritting my teeth? I am positively gnashing them.

A note about the difference between an editor and a copyeditor. The editor looks at the big picture: does the book hold together, is the writing lucid, has the author left out something major by accident or design? The copyeditor is concerned with minutia: spelling, grammar, punctuation, and whether the hero's eyes have changed color halfway through a story. The copyeditor also checks (or queries) historical data, and timelines. By cutting corners on either editing or copyediting, a book can be in danger of having major flaws that could have been corrected easily. This, by the way, is one of the problems with self-publishing, that missing editorial step, the second eye. And in FTF, which is a very technical book, with three distinct areas--retold folktales, recipes, and charming (we certainly hope) marginalia on every page--we needed all the second and third eyes we could get.

September 4, 2005:

David doing much better. Alas, some of my foot spasms seem to be returning. Not as bad as before, but definitely apparent. Still, we are in reasonable enough health. The two of us settled into finishing off work, he with his birds and me with my revisions in the quiet house. Well it was quiet until Glen came into my new writing room for a chat.

I finished the SEA QUEENS copyedit! But had to go over my changes three times, and only then did I understand how computer copyediting is done. So finally I was able to smooth everything out. Sent it off to Judy O, and wouldn’t you know—even on a holiday weekend she got back to me. Not that she had read through it, but just to touch base, to tell me that the email had arrived, and that she was having as much trouble as I with the computer stuff. As I told her, sometimes an editor just has to grab a manuscript from me before I do any more revising. I find letting go of that last revision is the hardest thing of all because only then do I finally have the distance to see all the bits that need re-doing!

Feeling really in the groove, I turned my attention to the FTF problem. Since it is being published simultaneously in Canada and the US, the Canadian publisher begged me to make the spelling problems as easy as possible because of how expensive it is to reprint single pages. I did what I could, with changes in “neighbor” (“lived next door”) and “honor” (truth), but things like “the family’s favorite dessert”—well, I simply couldn’t think of another way to say it that didn’t use the word “favorite” or as they write it in Canada and GB—“favourite.” And “traveling motifs” is a technical term and I am sorry that the Canadians spell it “travelling.”

Finally I paid bills including money to the Red Cross for the Katrina relief, and organized some 50+ books and stuffed animals to be sent out to various shelters, some in Texas, and one in California organized by SCBWI. I wish I could do more.

September 3, 2005:

This was not a good day health-wise. Between David’s chemo yesterday, and today’s Neulasta shot, it was a difficult time. Sometimes chemo, for all the good it does, shakes the body up a bit too much.

So I played Nurse Jane FuzzyWuzzy all day (quick—who can spot the reference?) and got very little work done. But wait. . .I had given myself the day off. I remember now. Thanks, Boss.

Though I did manage a bit of work anyway on the copyedited SEA QUEENS which is looking pretty good. The problem is that with computers, writers no longer get back an actual copyedited version of the manuscript, but something done on the computer. So going through the copyedit takes longer than it used to. Another situation in which an upgrade creates more work than it saves. Can someone explain this to me? I had to put my old version and their copyedited version on the computer screen side by side (luckily it’s a large screen.) At least the Charlesbridge copyeditor had the grace to make corrections in color. As did my wonderful editor. But they didn't always let me know what that correction was changed from all the time, hence the two screens.

Also we will come to blows, I am afraid, about a minor bit of grammar. And while the copyeditor may be right technically, it makes for bad or badly repetitive prose. Okay—the problem is the use (or in their case the overuse) of “that” instead of a comma. As in: “They brought home so much booty, Teuta was well pleased and sent them off again. . .” as opposed to “They brought home so much booty, that Teuta was well pleased and sent them off again,.” Sometimes the THAT works, but not always. So I am fighting for variety, which makes for better prose. And the deletion of the comma when "that" is used. Better all around. At least in my humble opinion.

David and I watched “Under the Tuscan Sun” which I found a quite charming chickflick and until the end managed to surprise me a bit. I wish the movie had ended when Diane Lane realized that what she'd actually wished for had come true, though not quite in the way she’d meant. And that she was happy with that. The coda was unnecessary. Except for Hollywood schmaltz.

September 1-2, 2005:

So we celebrated out 43rd wedding anniversary two days running, though the second day was the actual date. I always think that if something is worth celebrating, it’s worth doing more than once! And if you want to know if I got any writing done these two days, the answer is no.

Thursday, there were a lot of book flurries, mostly by email, because there were a lot of problems being dealt with in both the DANCE book and the FAIRY TALE FEASTS book (hereinafter called FTF.) All editing problems. And the enlarged sketches for BABY BEAR’S BOOKS arrived, with some queries. And the author copies of the boxed edition of the PIT DRAGON TRILOGY. (My first ever boxed edition!) I had a long telephone talk with an editor of a new storytelling magazine on Thursday, and an even longer telephone conversationon Friday with the head of Amherst Ballet who has been thinking of some other books of mine she might turn into ballets.

But mostly Thursday was spent with friends.

Theresa and Patrick Nielsen Hayden arrived Thursday afternoon. Heidi had made a wonderful cold finger-lunch. We had four kinds of cheeses which I'd bought--Wesleydale with cranberries, Double Gloucester with onions and chives, a fine blue cheese, and an ordinary Muenster, with crackers, all artfully arranged on one board. And hummus and fruit and veggies (asparagus, baby carrots, apples, red grapes) on the other. Plus dark chocolate. And great conversation. Mostly politics, Hurricane Katrina, birds, words. At one point Patrick and I sat on the stoop outside the back door and had a quasi editorial meeting.

Soon the rest of the dinner guests arrived. The deTerlizzis arrived first, and without batting an eye, Angela dropped Theresa. Ah—for those who know neither of these women, this needs some explanation. Theresa has a bizarre kind of narcolepsy and when something hilarious catches her off-guard, her body goes into a strange state. It is as if all the strings holding her together have been cut simultaneously. If she is standing, she falls over. If she is sitting, she just collapses onto someone’s shoulder. The collapse is never for more than a minute and then she’s up and bounding around again. However, even from the floor, she never stops being in the conversation. So those of us who know and love her, will often try and be the wittiest to see if we can "drop Theresa." It’s not easy. If she sees or hears you setting up a joke, she doesn’t fall over. It has to be both witty and surprising. As Angela was. Within three minutes of meeting her, Angela dropped Theresa who hit the kitchen floor. Alas, Angela had no idea what that was all about for we’d forgotten to forewarn her. So she was alternately startled, fightened, and appalled. But soon after we had her apprised of the situation. At dinner (one of Heidi's spectacular events) Theresa fell onto Patrick’s shoulder two or three times—the deTerlizzis are very funny folk. But it was never quite as dramatic as that first wild collapse onto the kitchen floor.

Glen and Maddison had planned a lovely suprise, with a hanging sign saying HAPPPY 43th (the numbers were handmade and pasted over a "25th") ANNIVERSARY. They gave David and me matching sailor hats which announced much the same thing. And we both had little gift baskets of chocolates at our plates. Everyone but David and me blew out the candles on the Black Forest cake.

Friday morning early, wearing our anniversary sailor hats and carrying another anniversary cake, David and I drove to Springfield for his third chemo infusion. Everyone there was deliciously sweet about wishing us joy of the day and eating the cake with us. And honestly, I was delighted to share the day with them. After all, without these hardworking folk, we wouldn’t have seen our 43rd annish at all.

But David had been very tired the last few days and his blood work showed why. His white cells had dropped to bare decimal points of where the nurses would have had to deny him chemo. We made an appointment to come back tomorrow afternoon for a shot that boosts the white cells and the immune system.

And so, after five hours “on the drip” as they say In Britain, we drove home.

While David was being filled up with the chemo solution, I read PW, Newsweek, Locus, Kevin Henkes' small novel WORD IN STONE (some lovely writing, great character study, no discernible plot) and did three and a half crosswords. Made telephone calls to our kids and to my agent, discussing the problems with DANCE and FTF.

When we got home, and David went up to take a nap, I read my email. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! I had vastly too many emails with work attached on my computer, so I made an executive decision. The nice thing about being one’s own boss is that any decision is an executive decision. I decided to put off working on them until Sunday. (Of course being my own boss, I may just change my mind tomorrow.)

Interstitial Moment: SPOILERS AHEAD so read at your own risk!

I found the following squashed down behind other stuff in one of my files as we were moving things about, and I thought it might be of interest.

Death Panel: (this must have been for some conference which I have long forgotten)

I have always loved books that can make me cry. Even as a child. I would reread passages from CHARLOTTE’S WEB and AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND with the same kind of passionate intensity I gave to probing with my tongue at the loose tooth till the pain made me wince.

But I discovered that reading about a death in the family of spiders or Victorian cabmen was not the same as killing off my own heroes or heroines. The first was a kind of vicarious pleasure-pain, and I could always resurrect them by turning back the page. Beth lives <in LITTLE WOMEN> on pages 1-150 even if she dies on page 151.

But when I killed off a character of my own, because each character is an intimate and revealed part of myself, something of me dies, too.

That this self-immolation is painful there is no doubt. And so in my earliest books, I disguised death in a number of agreeable—or disagreeable—ways. In THE BIRD OF TIME, the giant, wicked and greedy though he is, slides soundlessly over the edge of the world. In THE GIRL WHO CRIED FLOWERS, the heroine Olivia is turned into a flowering tree. In THE MAGIC THREE OF SOLATIA, the wicked sorceress simply disappears; the Prince who is the Hollow Man and is dispatched by the knives of assailants, says: “Do not be sad. . .I am returning to my own kingdom where I rule over all who have lived and will live again”; and the man-goose who is beheaded by the magic of the sorcerer’s flute, is resurrected as a silver bird with a blood-red ring around its neck. I simply was not able to kill these children of my brain entirely.

But I am learning, growing, and coming to terms with what one might call “creature-side”, the knocking off of one’s own created characters. I may weep as I write, which makes seeing the pages difficult, but I am working on a book in which the young girl comes to terms with her own father’s death. <THE STONE SILENUS> He is not a pretty fellow, it is not a pretty death. But if the girl Melissa can do it, so can I.

Note: the above was written long before I penned HEART’S BLOOD, THE DEVIL’S ARITHMETIC, BRIAR ROSE, CHILDREN OF THE WOLF, THE GIFT OF SARAH BARKER, GIRL IN A CAGE and many other novels where whole-scale slaughters occur. By now I hardly blink when a character dies. Well, that’s not really true. I blink. A lot. To keep from crying. And sometimes a character I mean to kill off—such as Pynt in the SISTER LIGHT books—I can only wound sorely. I simply loved her too much to strike the last fatal blow. The point is that these characters—long before they live for the reader—must live for the author. Killing them is not just a quirk or a fancy. Sometimes, just as in life, a beloved someone dies. Only in books, they usually die for a reason--a reason of plot, to further the story along, or for justice. It rarely happens that way in real life.