World Read Aloud Day

My daughter has spent the last couple evenings snuggled up under her blanket reading a book. Correction: reading the iPad. Last night at 10 p.m. I finally said sorry, but you need to go to sleep. I promised to wake her up early so she could finish reading before school. Here's hoping she finishes before it's time to leave or we're going to have a real struggle! The book that has captured her attention? Boys are Dogs by Leslie Margolis. I don't know the author, but with such a ringing endorsement from my reluctant reader, I'm going to have to read this one myself!

But not today. Today is World Read Aloud Day, a celebration of shared words, encouraged by LitWorld.

 
I read aloud a lot with my entire family. (Yes, my hubby likes to listen in, too!) Right now we're in the middle of Harry Potter and Goblet of Fire. My son and husband have heard this entire series before, but it's the first time through with my daughter. It's been hard to keep some of the secrets of the stories from her (darn those evil children who like to spoil endings!) but the books are so wonderful that we've all enjoyed discovering them again. And of course, each time we finish a book, the dvd comes out so we can compare the book with the movie. You can guess which version wins every time :-)

What will you be reading out loud today with a child?

Why I'll Never Kill My Parents

I'll probably catch a bit of heat for this, but I have a huge pet peeve when it comes to children's books: I hate dead parents.

Most times, dead parents are used as a device for writers to allow the child character to go off and have adventures that no sane parent would allow. For me, it's a huge problem because most of these literary children never have another thought about their deceased parents.  Granted, a child that was orphaned at 10 is not still going to be moping and crying at 16. But even if that child was adopted by a loving family, the lack of parents will influence them in countless ways.

I should know. I was that child.

Every person reacts differently in a given situation, but even a child that never knew their parents will think about them at different milestones or tuning points in their lives. When I learned to drive, I remembered sitting on my father's lap and steering the car on country roads. I wondered how he would have taught me differently, if I would have even been learning on the same streets, in the same car. When I had my first boyfriend, I wished my mom could have met his mom because I knew they would have been friends. I wondered what advice she would have given me and how it would have differed from my adoptive mother. To this day, every time I bake cookies, or smell fried chicken, or see a violet or a duck, or hear certain songs on the radio, it triggers a memory of my parents. I don't break down and cry, but I think about them, every day, in so many little ways.

Novels are stories about turning points in a character's life. Too often characters don't ring true because writer's don't give them that added depth of reflecting on how their turning point would have been different if their parents were around. J.K. Rowling did this masterfully in the Harry Potter books. His parents were woven into the storyline countless times, in a way that was meaningful and real. When Harry looked in the Mirror of Erised, I desperately desired my own. And the photos where he could see his parents moving about? Priceless. Rowling understood the emotions surrounding the death of a parent, probably because she experienced that loss herself as she was writing the books.

Many things can be imagined in a novel, but false emotions regarding dead parents never sit well with me. It's hard to write a book with realistic, living parents. But it's a challenge more writers should attempt. Because when we were children, every day was an adventure. And even when our parents were around, we found ways to have those adventures, safe in the knowledge that our parents would be there to bail us out if things got out of hand.

Maybe it's my own fantasy, my way of making my parents come alive in the pages of my stories. Maybe someday I'll be a good enough writer, a brave enough writer to honestly portray the raw emotions of a character without parents. But another part of me fights back. Aren't there are enough dead parents in children's books?

I think I'll keep mine alive.

Digital vs. Print -- How I Read

I was not one of the first people to run out and buy a Kindle. I resisted it. For a long time.

I've always considered myself lucky to live in a town with a fabulous bookstore run by intelligent people who know books and know their customers. I love being able to go to a store and pick up a book, study the cover, read the back, explore the first few pages. And I never want to lose that.

But I noticed something shocking this week. At least shocking to me. In the last year, the number of ebooks I've read outnumbers paper. By far. I think I've read maybe 15 physical books. By comparison, in the same time frame, I've read (gulp!) 75 ebooks.

How did I make such a drastic shift?

Blame it on the iPad. Being able to download books for Kindle, Nook, PDFs and Bluefire Reader makes it oh so convenient to read anywhere, anytime, any format. And where do I do most of my reading? In bed with the blanket pulled up over my head so I don't disturb my sleeping husband. I feel like a kid with my favorite novel and a flashlight. Only the iPad lights itself, and instead of one book, I've got hundreds. And now that I have an iPhone, I can also read while I wait for my kids, when I'm in line at the grocery store, on my lunch break.

And then there's the price. I read a lot of books from independent authors which tend to be in the $0.99 to 3.99 range. Not to mention the fact that most of these would never be found in a bricks and mortar book store. I do also buy Big Six books (often when they're on sale), and I've also been sucked into a series and shelled over the $8.99-10.99 for a book I just had to read. Even then, the digital book is less than a hard cover.

Even the library has contributed to my digital habit. Borrowing an ebook from the library is easier than a regular book because there's nothing to return. Once the time's up, it just disappears from my reader -- no more late fees! Hooray!

I never thought I'd move away from "real" books. My son still hates electronic reading and while my daughter is more open to it, she still prefers paper. When they pick up the iPad, they tend to open up Doodlejump or Angry Birds, not a book. But I wonder when that will shift for them as well.

What about you -- do you read more paper books or electronic books? How has that changed from how you read a year ago?

So, that Romance Novel You're Writing for NaNo...

Every writer knows that November means NaNo, even if they've never participated in the challenge. This year, romance authors have one more reason to finish that book they're working on: Avon Impulse wants to read their new novels. From their news release:

During the month of November, Avon editors will make themselves available to the author community via online forums at www.nanowrimo.org, and by sponsoring “NaRoWriMo,” the publisher hopes to acquire original works of romantic fiction, to be released in 2013 by Avon Impulse. “NaRoWriMo” romance fiction submissions should be submitted by December 10, 2012 to Avon Romance’s online submission portal (www.avonimpulse.com), and tagged “NaRoWriMo.” All novel and novella-length submissions (50,000 words and above) will be reviewed, and will be considered for publication through Avon Impulse, the publisher’s digital-first arm.

I'm not a romance writer, but I know a lot of you out there are. Check it out and let me know if it's worthwhile!

Wisdom from Odwalla

Last week, a very special guest came to talk to the seniors at the school where I work: Greg Steltenpohl, the founder of Odwalla. He said a LOT of inspiring things to the seniors, but this really stuck in my mind.

“Being an entrepreneur, you have to kind of put your idea out there and believe in it and then manifest your vision,” he said. “You just keep coming up against things constantly, no matter how long you go along, there’s going to be someone who just says, ‘It isn’t possible.’”

Change "entrepreneur" to "writer" and omigosh, it's totally my truth. And how did he deal with the doubters?

“Nine times out of ten, it’s about manifestation. If you believe it, then other people start to believe it and pretty soon it becomes the reality.”

Kind of how I try to live my life. Believe it into reality. His final pearl of wisdom:

“You never know what's going to happen, just by doing what you love.”

Greg sold Odwalla to Coke in 2001 for $160 million. Not a bad payoff for doing something he loved!

I have no aspirations to make millions. But I do hope that by staying true to what I love, I can find  success.

How do you define success?

Mayonnaise and Coffee

Sounds yummy, right?


Yeah, not so much. This is actually a parable of sorts that a writer friend sent out last week. I love the story here, especially since I read it the day after having coffee with my friend Casey (skinny latte, hold the mayo, thanks). Rather than tuck it away somewhere, I thought I'd post it here for others to see and as a permanent place for me to find it as well.


Enjoy!


-----------------------------------

A professor stood before his philosophy class with some items in front of him. When the class began, he picked up a very large, empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked
the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous “YES.”

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

“Now,” said the professor, as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things – your family, your children, your health, your friends, and your favorite passions – things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, and your car. The sand is everything else – the small stuff. “If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls.

The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children! Take time to get medical checkups. Take your wife/husband/lover/friend out to dinner. Maybe even play another 18. There is always time to clean the house and fix the disposal.

Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.”

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled.

“I’m glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there is always room for a couple cups of coffee with a friend.”

Writing in Retreat

We’d talked about it–fantasized really–for months, maybe even years. A girls' weekend/writing retreat with nothing to distract us: no families, no internet (hopefully!), not even each other. We’d stay at a spa and eat healthy meals, have separate rooms, but get together every once in a while to bounce ideas off each other and just have a mental break. At the end of the day we’d relax with massages to ease away all the tension from a long day of writing.

Of course, the price tag gave us a reality check, but we weren’t ready to give up the idea. After all, when it came right down to it, the Motel 6 would serve our purposes just fine, right? But then just like a good novel, a twist: Lori’s husband took the boys camping, but her daughter got sick. Could we just meet at her house?

Definitely cheaper. But would a familiar location be too much of a distraction, especially for Lori with a sick child?

Nope. 

For 24 hours we wrote, stopping briefly to eat, compare notes, sleep. And it worked. I spent my time reworking a story I’d given up on. With quiet time to think about what worked and what didn’t, to experiment, cut, write and rewrite, I found threads I didn’t even know where there. Best of all, I found my mojo again. I was ready to write. Anything. Ideas were bursting over each other, words flowing, aching to come out.

I was so happy I cried on the way back home.

And now I know. Next time I hit a rut, all I have to do is find a quiet stretch of time to focus.

Or send Lori’s family packing for the weekend and move myself back into her house :)