About half way into Silent Night, my husband said, "They've done what my mother (a driven Catholic her entire life) would have said couldn't be done--Silent Night as heavy metal. And it's beautiful." Beyond that, they took a story about an angel circumnavigating the world on Christmas Eve, and used it as a framework for incredible rock music. The narrator was an old guy, in a bar, sipping whiskey. "Carol of the Bells" was played to a backdrop of war, decrying "killing in the name of God," and reflecting on "scars upon the dreams." It struck me that many so-called Christians would be offended. And yet, in a moment of transcendence and clarity, I knew God was very pleased.
I made a couple of decisions. You can take 'em or leave 'em, because they're mine. First, I'm reclaiming the term Christmas. December 25th is Christmas. You don't have to be a Christian to celebrate it,and if you're of a different faith (or no faith at all) you are welcome to join this celebration or not. My Lutheran church holds Seder dinners every year, in honor of our Jewish brothers and sisters. We are not offended that they (or you) hold different beliefs. Why should you be offended if I offer you a "Merry Christmas?" This is not meant as a slight. It is simply an invitation to share my joy.
I am also reclaiming the word Christian. Over the past few years, in reaction to the vocal minority on the far right who call themselves Christians while acting like anything but, I have divorced myself from the term to a large degree. I do not want to be seen as someone who holds narrow views, or who doesn't accept people different than me. But yesterday it struck me, while listening to hard rock Christmas songs, that I am more representative of Christ than those who think only straight, white right-wingers qualify for Heaven.
"Christ" is the core of "Christianity." Jesus ministered to the poor, cared for the disenfranchised. He embraced all races, homosexuals, prostitutes, believers, non-believers, old people and children. He healed the sick, cared for those in need. Central to his teaching was the concept that "God is love," and so he brought love to people who needed it most. As the TSO lead singer sang, accompanied by blues and hard rock, "Every man is your brother. Every child is ours." Jesus Christ would agree.
People often ask why I write about people on the edge--why I care about the disenfranchised. Every man, every child, deserves understanding, compassion and love. I hope my books help accomplish that. And, whatever your own belief system, I hope you'll help accomplish that, too.
1. If you are truly sick.... like running a 103-degree temperature, or needing to cough up a lung, STAY HOME. Your germs do not need to travel across the country, infecting people everywhere you go. This is especially true of the first few days of illness, when the odds of contagion are increased.
2. Okay, sometimes you have to travel anyway. So take your medicine along, and take it before you go. Anything to decrease the coughs and sneezes that spread germs.
3. If you must cough, cover your damn mouth. I have had someone cough behind me and felt it move my hair. Didn't your mother teach you how to keep this from happening? Ditto if you must sneeze. Do not spray germs into the air, or onto the windows.
4. Take tissue with you and use it. Nothing much more disgusting than spending three hours listening to someone suck snot up their nose and down their throat.
5. After using tissue, use hand sanitizer or wash your hands. DO NOT WIPE SNOT on the armrests!
6. Do not eat beans, cauliflower or other gas-inducing foods before you go. At the very least, take BEANO first. And don't think we can't smell those sneaky deadly silent farts. Come on, people, this isn't third grade.
7. BATHE before you go. Ack.... four hours of B.O.???
8. Avoid tuna as an in-the-air snack. Some people don't appreciate the smell. If you must have tuna, you MUST chew with your mouth closed.
9. And why not chew with your mouth closed, anyway?
10. On short flights, especially on smaller jets where everyone's cramped anyway, do you really have to recline your seat back into your neighbor's lap?
11. I love people who are in love, but don't really need to see them working their way from first to second base, and beyond, while seated next to me. Stay out of each other's laps, and keep your kissing g-rated.
12. I don't want this to sound rude, but if you are of a certain weight/girth, check into seat sizes and consider buying two seats if that's what you fit. A long flight, squished to one side and half-sharing a seat with a total stranger is really unacceptable.
13. Don't argue with your spouse, scream at your kids, sing along with your I-Pod, or suck food from your teeth.
14. If you travel with your kids, please bring along toys, DVDs or something to keep them occupied. Bored kids = annoying. And remember that air pressure changes can hurt their ears. They need something to suck on while taking off/landing.
15. Don't insist your carry-on "will fit just fine," when it's obvious that it won't. Use a smaller one, or check it. Dealing with over-sized carry-ons wastes everyone's time. And it's ONE CARRY-ON and ONE PERSONAL ITEM, so don't pretend your purse isn't extra. Why should you be the exception to the rules the rest of us follow?
Okay, that's it for now. And just so you know, I've personally observed all of the above. Be considerate of others, and we'll all get along just fine.
We were good friends. That doesn't mean we didn't argue. In fact, over the years, we had some serious verbal battles. Usually over politics. For much of our friendship, he was a rabid conservative and I, of course, swing way the other way. (In the last few years, he has mellowed his political stance, and voted for Mr. Obama.) But we always came back to the table because, regardless of our differing views, we loved each other in our own fashion. It was a love born of words. Bill was a fabulous poet, and he helped me bring my own poetry to a whole different level. When I created a career as a verse novelist, his pride was unmistakable.
That same career has kept me from my weekly poetry group. I go when I can, but between travel and trying to be a good wife and mom when not traveling, I haven't gone as often as I'd like to have. I could have visited or called him at the nursing home more often. But he was doing well there for the past few years. Always time for visits, right? As it turned out, no, there wasn't time enough. I did call him a few days ago, to tell him I cherished his friendship and loved him. Thank God I found that time, or today would be even harder. In his honor, I ask you to raise a glass to Bill and his journey onward, and while you do, please think about friends near and far. Maybe give them a call and tell them you love them.
I wrote this poem for Bill when once before we thought we might lose him. I'll post it here now, in celebration of his journey onward, and as a remembrance of our friendship.
The Weight of Thirst
The playa is still, emptied
of even the thinnest sounds--
the murmur of creeping
sand; pillowed spin
of tumbleweed; susurrus
of feathers trapped
in thermal lift.
The well is dry, drained
to weary echo
above desiccated silt.
Thirst swells, bloats
every cell until the body arcs
beneath its weight.
The page is blank, scrubbed
of metaphor, flawless
turn of phrase.
Parched within
the silence, hungered
in a desert without words,
I am stranded
in your absence.
- Mood:
sad
OMG, here we go again. After the Norman OK blowup last week, it seems the superintendent of schools in Moore OK (where, coincidentally, I spoke at Hillsdale Baptist College instead of the Norman schools) preemptively pulled all my books from all her schools “as a precaution.” A precaution for what? Information? Maybe even the kind of information that might prevent kids from choosing self-destructive behaviors?
I’ve been over and over the reasons why my books are important for kids from all walks of life to have available. Read my other blogs if you haven’t seen those reasons yet. It’s not just me, either. In the last few weeks, book challenges, “precautionary removals” and author visit cancelations have increased exponentially. I have one question. What are people so afraid of?
As I see it, a very vocal minority has been empowered by uber-conservative pundits who claim not only the path to the next election, but also to God. Apparently, God has been so offended by the f-word or sex in books that he has directed their censorship. Uh… I don’t think so. Not that it’s anyone’s business, but I am an active member of my Lutheran church. And I happen to believe that the Creator directed my own path toward writing books that matter. And I happen to think God would be offended by those who claim to represent Him while advancing their own selfish goals.
It would be easy enough to buckle beneath the will of the few. I mean, it’s just so tiresome to keep pushing back. But here’s the deal. Some of these same people have accused President Obama (IMHO, a fine man doing the best he can with the cards dealt him) of being a fascist. Truth is, fascism flourished under Mussolini and Hitler because they crafted propaganda machines that spread disinformation to keep people living in fear. (Sound familiar, Mr. Limbaugh?) Books were burned. Truth withheld. People didn’t fight back because it was too tiresome. Or they were too afraid.
Books are not the enemy. Information keeps kids from doing drugs or getting pregnant or throwing up to get thin. Words are not the enemy. The Creator has more important things to worry about than hearing the F-word. ( Probably seriously concerned about guns going into bars to uh . . . protect. . . drunk patrons.) The vocal minority are not the only people who speak for God, and who are they to claim they are? We, the majority, cannot allow the minority to yell louder than we do. We are not afraid. And we have to keep letting them know that.
So you all are privy to the hoopla in Norman OK last week. If you’re not, check out my last blog, and here’s a short recap. I was supposed to do a school visit at Whittier Middle School. A parent went in complaining about content in CRANK and GLASS. GLASS was pulled off the shelves for review. I understand that there is necessarily a review process if a parent complains about “age-inappropriate content.” However, the parent went on to say she didn’t want me to do my school visit because, and I quote, “I don’t want ANY children to see Ellen Hopkins speak.”
The school superintendent decided I couldn’t speak at any school in his district, so I instead did a talk at the Hillsdale Baptist College (great irony, huh?). Some 150 kids, parents, teachers and librarians showed up. But not one member of the book review committee, or the superintendent, or the worried parent bothered to come listen to my message, which is basically, “the choices you make as young adults will affect you for the rest of your life.”
Now, that might have been that, but a local news anchor, Kelly Ogle, decided to get his fifteen SECONDS of fame by doing an on-air editorial. He admitted he didn’t bother to read GLASS, but by scanning the book (and BTW, a station intern likely did that… I’m guessing even scanning would have been too much effort), he found 17 f-words and…. oh, oh…. sex. He misquoted the book, saying Kristina talks about having sex with truckers. Uh, no. That was actually Robyn, her friend, who worked at a house of prostitution to support her own habit. And (not that it makes any difference to him, since he doesn’t care WHY I wrote those books), it was to illustrate the very low places addiction can take you. (BTW, that was a real person, in a real situation, and her words were real.) CRANK and GLASS are meant to show, in a very real way, the places addiction can take you. Because I hope to turn people away from choosing to use [choices].
At the end of his op-ed segment, Ogle rather gleefully stated that now the books are off the shelves [really? thought there was a review process? minds made up before it or what?] in the middle school, he was going after the high school. Censorship continues to be alive in Norman OK, and now it’s on TV, in the form of a small market newscaster, hoping to make a bigger name by confronting … uh, me. Beyond Mr. Ogle, as we move into Banned Books Week, safelibraries.com and the much more visible Wall Street Journal claimed this week that there is no such thing as banned books, because they’re available SOMEWHERE. Excuse me? If a book is pulled off a library shelf, it is banned from that library. The WSJ guy also claims “censorship” only applies to government censoring. The definition I found is “the suppression or attempted suppression of something regarded as objectionable.”
No censorship in this country? Because a vocal minority found President Obama objectionable, he was recently banned from classrooms. And because one person found Ellen Hopkins objectionable, she was recently banned from classrooms. [Great company I’m in, thank you very much!] Semantics can’t change that. Books ARE banned in America, and people, big and small, are censored every day.
Some content in GLASS may be too much for some 13-year olds. But let’s face it. They hear the f-word and worse in school every day. Not to mention on TV, music, video games, Internet, etc. Truth is, many middle school-aged kids are already doing drugs, or thinking about it. Some have already had consensual sex, been raped or sexually abused. Others have self-injured, experienced eating disorders or considered suicide. If my books can help even one of them, they BELONG on bookshelves in every library.
So now I’m asking for your help. Over the years, thousands of you have messaged me, telling me why my books have been important for you. That is why they belong on bookshelves. What I’m asking is for you to send the same messages to some people. Please be respectful. If you use bad language, your opinion will be dismissed by the very people we’re trying to make understand. You don’t have to sign your name, but if my books have touched you, please send the reasons why to:
kelly.ogle@news9.net
Day before yesterday, a parent stormed the school, demanding Crank and Glass be pulled from the middle school shelves for review. Not sure what it was about the content that concerned her. If you've never read them (what? seriously?), the books are loosely based on my daughter's struggle with methamphetamine addiction. There is some language (not a lot, actually). Drug use? Check. Um. The books are about addiction, and they offer an honest look at that dark path. Surely, they are cautionary tales. And yes, one of the cautions is that when you live as an addict, bad things (like rape and pregnancy) can happen to you. Those scenes, while feeling very real, are most definitely written with a young adult audience in mind. They are not sensationalized nor particularly graphic.
However, I can see a parent's concern. So fine. Don't let YOUR child read them. However, NO ONE PERSON should be able to tell other people what their children can or can't read. I have received thousands of messages from readers (and yes, many are middle grade), thanking me for: turning them away from drugs; insight into their parents'/other family members' addictions; allowing them to live vicariously through my characters, so they don't actually have to experience those things; literally saving their lives. Who has the right to keep books that do these things off the shelves? And the bigger question, who has the right to keep ANY books off the shelves? Who gets to decide? One parent and a misguided school superintendent?
Because the school superintendent not only pulled the books for review, he CANCELED my author visit. Wouldn't even allow me to move to the high school. Seriously? What did that parent and he expect me to do? Go in with a live demonstration? Use the f-word? Talk about sex? I mean, you've got to be kidding. I've done hundreds of school visits. Pretty positive I've never corrupted a student. In fact, my talks inspire them. Arm them. Inform them. Yes, I tell my daughter's story. Her cautionary tale. On the middle school level, I am totally sure I have stopped kids from ever considering drug use. What are these people really afraid of? That their kids will want to read my books? That must be it. Why not instead, parents, read the books with your kids, open the lines of communication, and TALK TO THEM!
Banned Books Week is coming soon. If you haven't already heard, Simon & Schuster asked me to write a poem, which they produced as a broadside. It's called Manifesto, and while I won't put the whole thing here, I will quote the last stanza when I wrap this up. The broadside will be on Banned Books Week tables across the country. I'll be taking a fistful to OK when I go Tuesday because Karin Perry cared enough about my message to make sure I'll appear Tuesday, 7:30 p.m., at Hillsdale Baptist College in Moore OK. I hope that room is full, because I will have lots to say. There and everywhere I go from here on out. Blanket censorship has no place in this country.
In celebration of the First Amendment, here is the last stanza of my Manifesto:
Torch every book.
Burn every page.
Char every word to ash.
Ideas are incombustible.
And therein lies your real fear.
I hope that doesn't sound disingenuous. It isn't at all. I mean, I've seen my readership grow over the last five years. That's right, it hasn't even been five years since Crank first published. Being a brand new author is such a strange experience. You work so hard to write a book worthy of publication. Then you have to work even harder to find a publisher or agent. Then, even when it publishes, you don't know how it will be received. Reviewers? Ack! And readers. What if they hate your book? Throughout the process, self-doubt is your worst enemy.
With Crank, I knew it was an important story. My editor at the time, Julia Richardson, was a staunch shoulder to lean on. Her belief in the book propped me up many times. But, while I could hope it would attain the kind of success it has, I could not have expected it. And even now, every time I turn in a new book, my first reaction is "what if this one sucks?" The first thing my current editor, Emma Dryden, tells me, even before I ask is, "It absolutely doesn't suck." Then she has to use words like "beautiful, brilliant, heartbreaking," etc. before I take a deep breath and allow myself to plunge into the next one. I hardly ever read reviews because, no matter how many positive things I read, negative comments always sting.
So to have a book hit #1 in its first week amazes me. It means my readership continues to support me. Continues to grow. It means I continue to grow as an author, and that is an absolute goal for me. I want each book to be better than the last, and to do that I have to stretch. Dig deeper into character or up the ante on plot. Experiment. Explore. I will not please every reviewer or, indeed, every reader with every book. And so I can never expect a #1 debut. But I will continue to work hard for them.
I told the first woman that I thought she was limiting her audience. Her pithy response was, "Well, so are you." Later she messaged me to say her YA skews young, toward middle grade readers, and that when her two young children aren't listening, she might even swear a little. I agree middle grade books don't need swear words. And, as agent Jennifer Laughran pointed out, if you're trying to get your books in book clubs, they are definite no-nos. I'm not even saying all upper YA HAS to have swear words. But to proudly claim 1. You'll NEVER use them and 2. If you do use them you're not a great writer and your writing isn't authentic? To that, I offer a long, loud raspberry! (I'd say middle finger, but I'm trying not to swear.)
More worrisome is the idea that an author who writes swear words is not a good role model, or is somehow a bad influence on their readers. First of all, today's teens don't live in a vacuum. They want books that speak to their own experience. A YA author has no business jumping up on a pedestal, hollering, "Look at me. This is how you want to be. No, not like that. Like me!" Didacticism has no place in YA, or IMHO any children's literature. That is inauthentic. Self-righteous.
An authentic YA author writes where her readers live. She goes down in the trenches, walks the streets with them, talks about choices and shows possible outcomes of those choices. And she speaks their language, including swear words if they are the words her characters would use. Not all my characters do, by the way. Some never do. But the ones who do are often the best role models. They are characters like Tony, a street kid who has suffered the worse kinds of abuse, yet remains resilient and searches for love. Characters like Ginger, whose mother has sold her to men, yet who finds the inner strength to save a stranger's life and create a better future for herself.
Some of my readers live the situations I write about. They thank me for letting them know they're not alone, and for showing them that they can find their way into a more positive future. Others have great lives, and yet thank me for letting them see the dark places they never want to visit, but are curious about. Not one of them has been damaged because I dared write the f-word. (Still trying not to swear.) I believe I am, in fact, a straight up great role model. I don't back away from the truth. I look for solutions to tough problems. I find light beyond the dark, encourage my readers to do the same. And I write righteous (not self-righteous). Even if that means saying fuck.
I don't want to sound snippy or envious. I think it's great that a YA author can find the kind of following and crossover appeal that Stephenie Meyer has. But it bothers me that other (and in my opinion, better) YA authors aren't more justly rewarded. Laurie Halse Anderson (whose recent Wintergirls has definitely received much-deserved attention) sparked audience interest in 2003 with Catalyst. A year before that, Patricia McCormick's Cut drew wide praise. Chris Crutcher was writing controversial YA at the time. Tamora Pierce had been writing YA fantasy for a decade. Annette Curtis Klause was writing more horrific horror. Neal Schusterman's problem novels appeared in the late '80s. Meg Cabot's teen novels first popped up in 2000. Sonya Sones's first verse novel, Stop Pretending, published in 2001. Libba Bray's lush Great and Terrible Beauty debuted in 2003, as did Gail Giles's intense Shattering Glass.
I could go on and on, but you get the point. By the time Twilight hit bookshelves in 2006, the YA renaissance was well under way. Yet somehow it remained under the public radar. Granted, those gorgeous black and red covers, on obvious display in every bookstore window, drew broad attention to themselves and the stunning sales figures that followed could not go unnoticed. But I find it sad that literature in general, and YA in particular, is judged on $$$ rather than the quality of the writing. YA does not belong to Stephenie Meyer alone. There are dozens of brilliant authors publishing brilliant YA. I doubt any of us would say we wouldn't like to make the kind of bank Twilight has. But my guess is that making a positive impact on young lives, and thereby helping to shape a brighter future, is more important for most of us. And that is what the YA renaissance is truly all about.
The book is definitely too mature for some readers. However, age isn't the benchmark here. Yesterday, I received two very profound messages. One girl, maybe 15, thanked me for Ginger's story specifically. She was dealing with the aftermath of a rape, and Ginger's ability to move beyond her own rape, into a position of strength and helping others, allowed this young woman to see she, too, could move on. The second was from a girl who said at 12 years old, in an effort to hang onto the older boyfriend who "meant everything" to her, she allowed him to use her in awful ways. That included his friends, who paid him to have sex with her.
These are just two examples of young teens dealing with VERY big problems in their own lives--two who found the courage to share their own stories with me (in one day). While I understand that many adults want to protect teens from real life, putting books like TRICKS behind lock and key isn't going to do that. When I was in high school, there wasn't a lot of good YA literature available. So I moved straight to adult books, including books by Jacqueline Suzanne and Erica Jong. Pretty hardcore. But you know, I wasn't damaged by reading them.
One of the reviewers took issue with my using the "F-bomb" too many times. First of all, the word is fuck. Go ahead and say it. And here's the deal. Wander the halls of any high school (or even middle school), you are going to hear the word "fuck." And worse words. Believe it or not, there are words even Ellen Hopkins won't use in a book.
If words offend you, don't read the book. If the graphic scenes bother you, put the book away. But don't dare think most of today's YA readers aren't equipped to deal with books like TRICKS. They aren't just reading about these issues. They're living them. Knowing they're not alone is valuable. Knowing there's a way out is invaluable.
I did book travel to Chicago, and to Springfield from there. Also turned down a school visit because I didn't think I could get there in time. So today, I checked in with the librarian about the day's schedule. Turns out he changed his mind and decided to bring in a local author, which would be fine except he never let me know that. Not one word. If nothing else, good manners would dictate he do so, right? Communication may have lacked some on my end, but had I decided not to make the trip, I would certainly have let him know. Not only that, but when I said it might have been nice for him to let me know, he got all snippy and said he thought I was coming through anyway, and it was basically my fault for not checking in sooner.
Here's the deal. Communication is hugely important. Authors really do get very busy, and sometimes lose track of emails when they travel. Please, if for some reason you're communicating with me but don't hear back, send your emails/messages again. Eventually, I will respond. And if you ever book me (or any other author) for a visit, then change your mind, for pity's sake, let me (or them) know. Beyond communication, it's simply good manners.
No one was arrested so apparently in Arizona, no laws were broken. But my guess is, had this happened somewhere where George W Bush was speaking, someone would have been arrested. When W ran for reelection, two kindergarten teachers were arrested for peaceable protest on a sidewalk where his motorcade was driving by. They didn't have guns. They were wearing T-shirts that said "Protect Our Civil Liberties." That's illegal, but guns aren't?
The biggest question for me is why those people in AZ were carrying guns. Gun rights were not on the table. Mr. Obama was discussing health care. A word comes to mind: intimidation. What ever happened to discourse? Is it not possible to discuss our differences without fury or screaming or weapons, even if they're only "symbolic?" I keep asking people like this to become part of the solution. They'd rather flex their muscles, because they have no answers, either.
Uber conservative loudmouths like Limbaugh and Savage and Beck keep poking this hornets' nest. What people seem to forget is that they are paid millions of bucks to keep poking it. They don't even have to believe what they're saying. And frankly, I don't think they always do. Why not think for yourself? Why not investigate all sides of an issue? Why not be part of the solutions, instead of buzzing around like a hornet?
Because I believe in the first amendment, I can't in good conscience say the right-wing wacko pundits shouldn't be allowed to speak. I would, however, ask them to speak more responsibly and stop poking the hornets' nest. All it takes is one crazy with a loaded gun to kill a president--or a child on the street who might get in the way. Or you.
Oh well. Except for being really tired, I'm satisfied, I guess. The conference was amazing, and our regional adviser retreat seemed to yield some real positive decisions. All that is gratifying. I just want my own bed and to see my dogs. I'd say my family, but they're in the Bay Area, doing theme parks before school starts in a couple of weeks. Two days, with the house to myself sounds like major writing time. If I ever get there, that is!
The stories started saying stuff like "Miley is reading R-rated books." So? She IS 16. Then other stories called the book "filthy" and "salacious." A couple also suggested Miley might want to read "real literature" and "better books." Okay, so now it's gotten personal. I would hope those bloggers and journalists and satirists would actually read IDENTICAL before labeling it. Maybe they have, but I don't think so. Some did a search and found the subject matter (childhood sexual abuse), and the fact that the twins act out in bad ways. True. But also valid. And just because a book has hard subject matter or sexual content doesn't make it "not literature," or "not good literature." IDENTICAL is about redemption, and IMHO, it's an important book.
The stories have also said things like, "Miley can read?" And also how reading IDENTICAL was just another sign of "Hannah Montana gone wrong." Here's the deal. Whatever your take on Miley and Hannah Montana, beneath the Hollywood glitter (or tarnish), she's a regular 16-year-old girl (and probably a very nice one), trying to navigate a very public life. Of COURSE she can read. And if she chooses to read books by Ellen Hopkins, in my opinion, she's got great taste in LITERATURE.
Our takeaway was an empathy for others, beautiful memories of my mother's voice and a slight sadness when the book closed and she said, "That's enough for tonight." For me especially, I wanted to learn to read on my own, and so I did. I was reading chapter books before I started kindergarten. I wanted to hold those books, open the covers and go on adventures. New books were best. When I opened the covers, that ink smell jumped right off the pages. How careful I was not to injure their spines or tear the crisp new paper.
I hope you, too, have come to love books. And here is where I'll issue a plea. I know for many, the only way to enjoy a lot of books is to borrow them, from the library or maybe from friends. But for those in a position to do so, I'm hoping you'll think about buying books. See, the industry is struggling. Bookstores are closing. Independent bookstores have been hit the hardest but the rumor is Borders is also struggling. Can you imagine not having bookstores to wander? Say it will never be so!
As for new technologies, E-books may be the wave of the future, and they have their place, of course. But they will never offer you the smell of ink jumping off the page or the feel of crisp new paper. And who wants to take a Kindle to the beach, or into the bathtub? If you can buy books, please do. And if you don't want to store them, share them with friends or donate them so others can know the joy of reading really great stories.
Unless, of course, they're signed Ellen Hopkins books. Those you'll want to hang on to! :-)
Children's publishing is such a great place to be, because despite "big names" and bigger booksales, most writers or illustrators for children and teens lack major egos. We're here for our readers. And the editors, agents and art directors who come to conferences, looking for new talent, are likewise generous. So thank you, Krista, George, Nancy, Grace, Adam, Joelle, Kelly, Lisa, Steven, Connie, Stephen, Deborah, Jon, Nina, Patrick, Nathan, Elizabeth, Sarah and Michael. Same and more for the awesome SCBWI WW volunteers. I foresee many more success stories coming soon.
A year and a half ago, Kelly and Keno were moved to a girls' cottage. Some of these girls have NEVER had a mother figure in their lives. Their mothers moved on, in favor of men or drugs or both, and simply told the state of Texas to take their kids. I've visited the cottage a number of times. The girls, all races and ages, lived happily there (okay, they had their arguments, like all "siblings") as a family. The first family they've ever known. Yesterday, Boysville shredded their family. They gave Kelly and Keno three days to pack their stuff and leave. Oh, and told them not to talk to the girls.
Kelly being the person she is (much like her mother, in fact), decided she had to tell the girls goodbye. Good thing she did. Boysville staff had told them that Kelly and Keno WANTED to go. That they didn't WANT to be their parents anymore. Kelly reiterated that they didn't WANT to leave. They had been TOLD to leave. And that she loves the girls and always will. They all dissolved into tears. Continue to cry today. Against the rules, one of the girls sneaked out of her room and stood on Kelly's porch all last night, crying. She's lost the only mother she's ever known. And, truthfully, Kelly and Keno feel like their own children have been taken from them. Due to downsizing. Another cottage was recently closed in the same fashion. And, according to staff buzz, others are on the chopping block. More throwaway kids, thrown away again.
The economy sucks. We all know that. It's probably a good thing to downsize car companies that can't pay their bills or insurance companies that can't pay their claims. But how can you downsize a family, for God's sake? Kelly and Keno lived at Boysville. They have nowhere to go, and scant resources. Three days to find a home for themselves, their four-year-old son and their pugs? With weeks before their unemployment claim can even be reviewed (and since Boysville isn't officially calling it "downsizing," no severance pay), how (and where) are they supposed to live? Keno's parents and I will, of course, do what we can to help out. But how do they find work in this awful economy? How long will it take, even with the letters of recommendation they're walking away with?
And after those three days, what happens to their girls? They get divided up, divvied up between the other cottages, perhaps. (Though surely Boysville will continue to receive the same per diem per child from the state of Texas.) Farmed out somewhere else, perhaps. The only family they've ever really known, torn to bits. But what do we care, right? They're throwaways, after all.
Surprises
So in a recent blog, I talked about appearances and how they can be deceiving. We all face this at some time in our lives. And, unfortunately, most of us at some time or another are on the other end. We form a first opinion of someone by how they look. We are taught from a young age to value beauty. To be more beautiful. Thinner. Sexier. Bigger breasts for girls. Six-packs for guys. Plastic surgery for the wrinkles we earn with age.Oh, we say we look for inner beauty. But do we really? I like to think I don't judge people by how they look, and I really don't think I do very often any more (mostly because I've met so many, many people and truly have become adept and finding their inner light) but I've certainly been guilty of that in the past. It hurts to be on the receiving end, as our recent experience at Bourbon Steak illustrated. But don't we really hurt ourselves by judging someone solely by their outer appearance? What might we miss by doing this?
I've posted this link other places, but please, please take a look at it. If you've already seen it, watch it again, and watch it with an eye toward Susan Boyle's inner beauty. Only someone very beautiful inside can have a voice like an angel!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9z0h1NNk1
And then I got to meet some authors for the first time--Sara Zarr, Chris van Etten, Michael Buckley, Kenneth Oppel, Sharon Flake, Daphne Grab, Jenny Han and Svetlana Chmakova. Each was so great, in their own way. Like their books, they are very different, and yet we all have something very much in common--a respect for our audience, and a true love for what we do. The comraderie among writers for children and teens is evident. From what I've experienced, this does not hold true for adult writers, and I think that's sad. Writing can be a solitary profession, so an opportunity to network with our peers is always an amazing experience. To my long-time writer friends, please know how much I value you. And to my newest writer friends, I hope we see each other again very soon!
Last night we went to Bourbon Steak. The hype was all about how great the steaks are there--butter poached, then grilled to taste. When we ordered, the waiter gave us the option of "dry-aged beef," which goes through a certain aging process to make it more tender. (I know this because as a former restaurant reviewer, I have experienced fork-tender dry-aged beef.) It cost quite a bit more than the regular rib-eye steaks, but we figured what the heck? You only live once.
The service was iffy at best. The "dry-aged" beef may or may not have gone through the aging process. It wasn't as tender as we expected. Flavorful yes, but a tad on the tough side. Oh, I should mention that my husband went in nice jeans and a long sleeved crew. No dinner jacket, as most of the other patrons wore. We're on vacation and he didn't really think about bringing a dinner jacket with him. He has also lately grown his hair a little longer. He was totally presentable, but didn't look like a .... big tipper? (We always tip 20% if the service calls for it.)
The waiter was much more attentive to other customers, often walking right past us in favor of others, and after a while it started to bug me so I called the manager over. Mentioned I was a restaurant critic for several years before becoming a bestselling author, that I was not impressed by the beef or the service and asked if the problem was our appearance. We were assured that no, that wasn't an issue, but I definitely think it was. The manager comped our dessert and drinks, but the experience was not a good one. We would not go back to Bourbon Steak, nor recommend it to friends.
The point of the story--appearances can be deceiving. You can't tell by how a person is dressed if they'll leave a decent tip. The only way to find that out is by giving them good service to begin with. They say you can't judge a book by its cover, so while I love my book covers, and know you do, too, I hope it's the words between them that keep you asking for more!
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