Oh, I have had such a fine fall of reading.
I was going to say a "happy" fall of reading, but that would be misleading because I have cracked some serious tear-jerkers, my friends.
And I love nothing better than a good book-induced cry.

So, today's the first of four brief blurbs on the books I've loved and cried over recently.



Let it be on the record that I know and love Sara Lewis Holmes, but I'd have embraced Operation Yes if it'd been written by a perfect stranger. Because in Operation Yes-land, nobody's a stranger for long. Mercy, this is an intimate and heart-felt tale.

Operation Yes is about military kids and the unique challenges and transitions they must reckon with -- moving... goodbyes... fear for their parents in dangerous spots. And it's about how they negotiate those challenges and shore each other up and become their own best selves in spite of -- or because of -- it all.

Which, of course, is what's not unique to military kids. It's what we want for all our kids. It's what we want for ourselves. To become -- in the face of challenge -- bigger, wiser, stronger, more generous and more full of love, rather than diminished.

I was only the new kid in school once.
I was 13 when we moved from Colorado to Wisconsin.
It was .... hard.

I did not transcend it the way Bo and Gari do in the book.
I merely plowed through.
I  wish I'd had Ms. Loupe there to inspire me, and a backpack of little green men to hold me accountable.

Because the thing that is so awesome about Operation Yes is that the kids in the book do so much more than is absolutely required. And so does Sara Lewis Holmes. She could've written a smaller book -- less complicated (structurally), less profound (emotionally), less true (logistically). And it still would've been a pretty sweet story about kids stuggling to find themselves with the help of a fine teacher and improv theater.

But why do just what's required when we can do so much more? suggest Sara, Bo, Gari and Ms. Loupe.
And to them I say, Yes.
Yes.
Yes.

"Wong has always been able to take well-loved and highly recognizable dishes and put a spin on them, and nowhere is this talent more apparent than at The Pineapple Room." ~ Jo McGarry, Midweek.

    
    photo credit: Tina Yuen, PBN

Pictured above is internationally acclaimed chef and restaurateur Alan Wong, whose name is synonymous with the best of Hawai'i Regional Cuisine. Last month when we were on O'ahu, we treated ourselves and nine of our favorite relatives to dinner at The Pineapple Room, one of three restaurants Wong owns in Hawai'i.

  

Though I had dined before at his flagship restaurant in downtown Honolulu (an Obama favorite), and loved his creative dishes which blend different ethnic cooking styles, this was my first time at The Pineapple Room. 

( Read more... )

Having sent what has turned out to probably be the last revision of my picture book to my editor on Saturday, I had planned to not only blog today but also work on a new book.

Unfortunately, instead of merely one previously-scheduled doctor's appointment, I ended up with four: the planned one, then a trip to the pediatrician, the radiologist, and the orthopedist.

Yep, the Pace family has its first broken arm. It belongs to the twelve-year-old male child, otherwise known as #3.

Bummer.

Also unfortunately, I had to miss a Virginia Festival of the Book planning meeting with franslayton and the Festival director. Fran and Nancy met without me and have come up with something absolutely fabulous. I'm so excited -- it's bigger and better than ever with kidlit at VABook -- and we'll have deets coming soon.

sixwordstories
Whether you're in the mood for a creative challenge or you're short on time or attention span, this semi-addictive community is perfect for those who find flash fiction way long. Once you get the hang of it, you won't be able to stop. The prince turned into a frog. The girl ran home to mother. Tough to write. Easy to read. It's a double threesome of fun.

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Delicious, ambitious, and occasionally nutritious dishes make for an eclectic, all-you-can-eat feast. Whether you're searching for recipes for your next dinner party or you're jonesing for a late-night brownie fix, your cravings are sure to be well sated. A warm and inclusive community that welcomes all orientations, from carnivores to vegans, from gourmands to junk-food junkies. Guaranteed bias-free, food-positive, and pan-epicurian.

Orange you glad to see this? It's the cover art for my third book, My Best Frenemy. The banner across the top ("Friends for Keeps") is the brand new series name. I'm pretty amazingly thrilled to have a series name:


My Best Frenemy
Dial Books for Young Readers
May 2010
ISBN: 978-0-8037-3501-9 

The book is another friendship tale told by our fourth-grade heroine, Ida May, who is not necessarily as brave on the outside as she is on the inside. In this story we get to play a little Truth or Dare, do a little geometry (this made me sweat a bit), contemplate the work of Picasso, meet Ida's new pet, and peek inside her diary.  There is also a frenemy. And a few surprises along the way. 

Dare I mention that My Best Frenemy is already available for pre-order here and here? :)

The good: I know for sure some kind librarians nominated FAR FROM YOU for the YALSA 2010 book lists (Best Books for Young Readers and Quick Picks for Reluctant Readers) because they told me so. THANK YOU kind librarians!!!

The not-so-good: It didn't make either nomination list, which means it didn't get the necessary second from a committee member. I'm sad, but oh well. I'm thrilled so many awesome books are on the lists and many of our LJ friends, including lkmadigan and jbknowles , have books there.

The good: The book I've been working on for the last 8 months, HOPE FOR NIMBUS, is done. For now. And I'm going to send it to my agent today!

The not-so-good: I wanted to be a lot further along on my new novel-in-verse than I am, and I'm so busy at work this month, I don't know that I'm going to have much energy to work on it during my off-hours. But, I guess I can only do what I can do.

The good: I was browsing the new S&S Children's Catalog for Spring 2010 and on the CHASING BROOKLYN page, it says, "12-copy mixed floor display (Includes 8 copies of CHASING BROOKLYN and 4 copies of I HEART YOU, YOU HAUNT ME) for $159.88." A floor display will be available for my books!!

The not-so-good: Will any bookseller really buy one? I often see news like this and think the worst. What is up with that?

The good: Day off today!

The not-so-good: I have a to-do list the size of a foot-long sandwich. I better get to it.

Happy Monday all! And in case I don't get a chance to say it tomorrow, Happy Anniversary Sesame Street!!

I'm so needed outside to rake, haul  and help hubby with some measuring of the land.  I'd so much rather be moving forward with my sci-fi middle grade. After rewriting the first four chapters with the new characters, I went back and totally overhauled the middle and end plots.  New places to explore, new people to talk to.  A simplified ending .  . . I'm soooooo in love with this project again!

And speaking of projects, B finished his Egypt report.  He had three weeks to create the written portion, a 3-D piece and a poster board of information.  But three soccer practices/games a week  +  one boyscout meeting a week  +   two big merit badge projects (all of which in the month of October)  =   very, very little time. 

So he really, truly started the project last Monday, once soccer was done and the merit badge projects were turned in.  He chose to work on Mummies.  I wasn't surprised . . . dead things, organs being extracted, brains mashed and taken out the nose, fingers and toes falling off . . . what boy wouldn't want to do a mummy project?

He did his report first, 'cause he finds that the most boring.  Then he did his 3-D, and then the poster was worked on aaaaaallllll day yesterday







I learned so much right along side of him . . . very interesting stuff!  I thought his 3-D would be the sarcophagus or he'd wrap a mummy.  But he chose a canopic jar, in the shape of the jackal headed god,  Duametef.  It houses the stomach so the pharoh or other elite could have it in the afterlife.  There are three others which house the liver, intestines and lungs.  The Egyptians threw the brain away, it wasn't important I guess.  And the heart stayed as it housed the soul. 

B is sooooo proud of that jar!  Then, on the way out the door this morning, he tried to help me carry something, and he dropped the top.  An ear and nose broke off . . . he was soooo upset. 

But good news!!  We quickly super glued it back on and you couldn't even tell it'd come off. 

All hail the Super Glue!!

Okay, hubby is tapping his foot and looking at his watch . . . I have to run! 

Since before it came out in September, All the World has been received very kindly by a bunch of very fine folk -- from bloggers, librarians and reviewers to cereal makers, booksellers and honest-to-goodness kids.

For me, each note or nod acts as ballast to the careening nerves and crises of confidence that beleaguer my everyday work.

Because while I'm mindful that I oughtn't attach myself too closely to external affirmation, it doesn't hurt to be told (in not so many words) to carry on.

And that's what happened this weekend when we got a little love from the New York Times.
THE New York Times.
Seriously you guys.

First, there's this lovely review that includes one of my favorite spreads from the book.

And then (this totally flipped my lid) we made the top ten list of Best Illustrated Children's Books of 2009.

Gulp.
Yipes.
Sigh.

Carry on...

            

Had a lovely time at Sara Lewis Holmes's booksigning yesterday at Hooray for Books in Alexandria, Virginia. It was a gorgeous day -- warm and sunny, in the 60's, and lots of folks strolled in to meet and congratulate Sara on the publication of her second middle grade novel, Operation Yes (Scholastic, 2009), which, BTW, was just named one of Booklist's Top Ten Art Books for Youth!


Sara signing books for my contest winners, Marjorie Light and Jeannine Atkins.

Of course Cornelius came along (he has a big crush on Sara). Happily, there were a lot of little green men about for him to play with.


Above is the awesome book Sara's agent (Tina Wexler) made from LGM photos.

Sara gave an interesting presentation about the genesis of the book, referring to a tack board full of newspaper clippings, drawings, and notes. These bits and pieces of inspiration, along with high school memories of memorizing Shakespeare, a real-life incident of little green men, and of course, first-hand experience with the kinds of challenges kids in military families face, all served as fodder for her imagination.

       

Audience members were given lines to read at Sara's cue.

She then read a chapter from the book, during which time something you don't normally see in a bookstore happened -- Sara dropped to the floor (in tight jeans and heels no less), effortlessly breezed through ten push-ups, then jumped back up and continued reading without missing a beat. She wasn't even out of breath. Aren't you impressed? Now there's one beautifully toned, fit writer -- a fine specimen of athletic prowess. Yes! I want her to be my bodyguard. ☺



Meanwhile, Cornelius was busy checking the bookshelves for more copies of Operation Yes.


Mmmmmm! Trish made brownies again!


And he got to meet Sara's husband, the ever famous Mike Holmes. Cornelius was thrilled and proud to pose with a real-live Air Force fighter pilot!


As always, a nice event at this wonderful indie bookstore. With all the friendly people, loads of great books to read, and an endless supply of brownies, one could just about live there. Congratulations again, Sara. I'm sure your book is inspiring lots of readers to think about their lives a little differently, and to definitely say YES! 


To Sara's right is the board containing some of the things that inspired Operation Yes.

If you haven't gotten your copy yet, order one from your nearest indie bookstore! ☺

Copyright © 2009 Jama Rattigan of jama rattigan's alphabet soup. All rights reserved.

If you've read my blog for any length of time you've probably learned a few things about me.

1. I love writing poetry and books for kids, my dog, my native plant garden, Santa Cruz, and chocolate.

2. A little over a year ago I was laid off from my day job and have spent the last year adjusting and enjoying being a full-time writer.

3. I'm filled with all kinds of doubts and insecurities about who I am, what kind of a writer I'm supposed to be, and if I am ever good enough whatever task is waiting right in front of me. (In other words, I worry a lot about things I should quit worrying about.)

But probably the single thing that tells you the most about me is that I have never known my father. His name, yes, but that's all. I've never met him or anyone in his family. The only pictures I've ever seen were of him as a gawky young man in a white suit at their wedding. He was gone before I was born.

As I kid I used to bug my mom all the time for information about him but she never really said much. No one in the family talked about him and when they did, they never painted the prettiest picture. But here's the thing, I didn't want them to tell me whether the picture was any good or not. I wanted to see for myself. Still families do what they can to protect what they feel needs protecting and by the time I was in the 4th grade and someone asked me if I was Tommy Webb's daughter I said no, without hesitation. I had been trained well.

When you have a hole like that in your life it's like a scab you can't let heal. And people who don't have the same kind of hole often find it difficult to understand why just can't leave it all alone and move on. I can't explain the why. I can only claim the hole. It's grown smaller over the years but it's still there.

Last week I wrote about the distance we need between real life and our stories before we can write about them. In the past I've written about feeling safe enough to write the truth of your story. I believe we should always strive to write with emotional honesty, even when (or especially when) that seems like an impossible task.

That's where Flyboy comes in. Every question I've ever had about my father, about my worth as a person, about how I felt something missing when there was no reason to feel that way because my life was just fine the way it was....all of that has been pouring into Flyboy for, well, over 25 years now.

Characters and plot, I've got them. But to take that emotional plunge into the ice water of my past...I just couldn't make myself do it. I give myself a lot of sleep suggestions about my books, hoping my subconscious will take me where I need to go.

Four years ago I had a dream about my father. In my dream I went to answer the front door and there was a man there, kind of old, his short beard was gray but he had some black hair on his head. He wore a suit that had seen better days. He handed me a box, a white box, like one you might get clothes in or a little bigger. It was tied with string, not a ribbon. I asked him what was in the box. He shook his head. I asked him again to please tell me what was in the box. Nothing. I don't know why I didn't just open it myself but I didn't. Then he walked away. I asked him to wait. He kept walking. Then I asked him who he was. He turned around and said, "I am your father." And then I woke up without opening the box.

Last week for some random reason I decided to check for my father on Classmates.com. I knew where he had gone to high school so I kept hoping that he might show up there. It was a far-fetched hope since people in his generation aren't as into the Internet as I am. Once I had gone there and found nothing I went through my normal little routine, putting in his name, the town he went to school in and the state where he was born. I'd never gotten anything back with that combo before but it was a familiar search I had done many, many times.

This time was different. This time an obituary popped up. I read it and burst into tears then almost as quickly I chastised myself for crying over someone who had never wanted me.

I've pieced together a story from my mom over the years. My father Tommy Webb was born in Arkansas and went to high school in Vallejo, California. His family eventually moved to Concord, to Bonifacio Street, into the little duplex across the street from where my mom lived. He worked at a service station in Walnut Creek, back when they had guys who pumped the gas for you. My grandmother's name was Tina. She was pregnant with my uncle Robert at the same time my mom was pregnant with me. I had an aunt Kitty who was two years older than I am. There was another aunt Janette. That's about it. Except for the not so pretty stories that I'll keep to myself because, as my mom told me today. He could have changed. Turned his life around. People do it all the time.

My father died in Missouri. In January. This year.

In January I was still recovering from being laid off, trying to piece my new life together, trying to figure out how to create a life that nourished my creative soul. I was whole but with rough edges that still needed smoothing. I think if I had found him then it would have been too much. Much too much. Sometimes distance is a good thing. Even if it means we never get the chance to say goodbye.

His obituary mentions my aunts and my uncle. Where they live. It also says he has two sons and a daughter. My half-siblings. And lots of grandchildren. Aunts and Uncles. Bothers and Sisters. Nieces and Nephews. Family or not. It all depends on your point of view. The kind of picture you want to paint.

The obituary does not, of course, mention me.

I keep thinking about that dream I had. How odd to think that my father, who never paid a dime of child support, might give me a gift I've always wanted. Answers to questions that have haunted me for years.

The Internet makes things easy sometimes. Really it took no more than a few hours of searching to locate most of the family. They're not active online. No websites or blogs or Facebook profiles. But mailing addresses. Phone numbers. I have some of them now.

It's a chance. A chance to see at least part of the picture for myself.

On the outside Bernadette was mostly monsterly.
She lurched.
She growled.
She caused mayhem of all kinds.
But underneath the fangs and fur,
Bernadette had a deep...dark...secret.

All will be revealed August 31, 2010!!!!!!!

http://www.amazon.com/Mostly-Monsterly-Tammi-Sauer/dp/1416961100/ref=sr_1_11?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1257735866&sr=1-11

Barnes and Noble wins the race to offer THE REINVENTION OF EDISON THOMAS for pre-ordering. No image of the cover yet, but my lucky readers have already seen that.

They are offering a 5% discount on pre-orders and, for a limited time, member prices for everyone. What a deal!

Order here now.