Vitamin W

Need some writing vitamins today?

HipWriterMama has a fantastic 30-day challenge going called "Mapping Out Writing Time." Videos, writing prompts, inspiring stories . . . she's got the juice.

Through the Tollbooth is always well-stocked with timely advice, but last week, they outdid themselves with a series of posts beginning with the irresistibly titled "FREE: Writing Lessons Here!" If free doesn't do it for you, they also have posts about retreats, MFAs, conferences, online classes, local writing centers . . . you have no excuse not to learn something from this power lunch.

Finally, if you need a push on the marketing end, there's Shelli's Market My Words where every Monday, she interviews a key player in the biz, and every Friday, she rounds up the best marketing advice on the web. As good as Vitamin C (I'm talking Caffeine) for jazzing you up about an often-dreaded part of the writing life.

There you go. Eat up. Be happy.

Hug a Library Today

I know other authors eat starred reviews for breakfast. But this is my first ever. And it's from the American Library Association, who made it possible for me to be a writer in the first place, by supporting the place where as a child, I checked out and read my weight in library books each week. (Okay, MORE than my weight, probably. No one ever actually used a scale. If I could carry them up the winding steps from the children's room and out the front door of the Lawson McGhee Public Library in Knoxville, TN, I was golden.)

In this era of tough choices, when more and more libraries and librarians are struggling for funding and their proper place at the heart of every community, I would like say: Libraries and librarians change lives. They changed me. I'm forever grateful.

From the review by John Peters, in the September 15th issue of Booklist:

Operation Yes. Holmes, Sara Lewis (author). Sept. 2009. 256p. Scholastic/Arthur A. Levine, hardcover, $16.99 (9780545107952). Grades 5-8. REVIEW. First published September 15, 2009 (Booklist).

Take one class of seemingly ordinary sixth-graders in a rundown school just outside a North Carolina military base, add a new teacher with a love for both improvisational theater and a big brother stationed in Afghanistan, then truck in a shy new student whose single mom has just been dispatched to Iraq. The result is the most buoyant example of ensemble work since E. L. Konigsburg’s The View from Saturday (1996) and the best of Gregory Maguire’s Hamlet Chronicles. Bringing Second City techniques to classroom instruction, Miss Loupe wins over her initially reluctant students so thoroughly that when devastating news comes that her brother has gone missing, the young folk band together in an effort to give something back—not just to Miss Loupe, but to all who are or have loved ones in the armed forces. The result? A triumphant performance that puts on display not only a diverse array of individual talents, but no fewer than 100,000 little plastic soldiers. Flicking among points of view with increasing speed, Holmes tracks the blossoming of Bo Whaley, an often-in-trouble kinetic learner who takes to improv like a duck to water; his just-arrived cousin Gari (who will without doubt grow up to be a professional campaign manager); and a supporting cast of gently caricatured classmates, parents, and faculty. Though only a small part is actually written as a script, the entire tale is purest stagecraft: quick, funny, sad, full of heart, and irresistibly absorbing. For another modern-day homefront story, see the starred review of Julia Keller’s Back Home.

— John Peters

Goooooood Morning!

It may or may not be morning where you are. If it is, I'm jealous.

I love mornings more than any other part of the day. I love the cozy quiet punctuated by the purposeful sounds of people getting ready; I love the brightening sky; I love the taste of warm, sweet coffee; I love the touch of cool air when I pad out in bare feet to get the paper; I love checking my inbox for the overnight delivery of email; I love that everything is possible before the day unfolds.

The only trouble is that I cannot, no matter how hard I try, cram all my day into the morning. Every "good for me" thing competes for precious morning hours---writing, exercise, clear thinking, planning, and yes, eating, because I'm always hungry in the AM. Then, when afternoon comes, anything I haven't managed to complete has to deal with grouchy, sloppy, lazy, junk-food craving, not-morning me.

So, I've decided to have TWO mornings. (I can hear you laughing. It's okay. My husband was mightly amused when I announced this plan.)

Every day, I'm going to re-boot right after lunch. Take a mini ten-minute nap, drink a large tea latte, and pretend it's morning all over again.

I'll let you know how my manipulation of the time-space continuum goes. Any donation of morning hours from you night owls would be much appreciated.