Category Archives: Real Life

Twenty-eight souls

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Hurricane Sandy Tribute

This October we mourned the plight of the victims of Hurricane Sandy.

Sandra Humphrey. Click above for the news story. Then click on her name in the blog text for Brian and Sandy’s tribute from their family and Sandy’s web site, where you can learn more about this beloved and inspiring author.

This Thanksgiving our MN SCBWI members mourned the death of children’s book author, Sandy Humphrey, in a house fire.  And now, another “Sandy” draws us to our knees — the Sandy Hook Elementary School massacre.

Our sympathy, love, and prayers reach out to offer consolation to those affected by all three tragedies.

All three events have impacted us — yet, this most recent tragedy cuts us deepest.  When a human hurts another human it hurts everyone.  When a human kills defenseless children, it steals life, peace, and joy from all humanity.

After Hurricane Sandy, we could offer tangible help with rebuilding.  When Sandy Humphrey and her husband, Brian, died, we could find comfort that no malice was inflicted upon them.  But, there’s an innocence lost in Connecticut that can’t be recovered.  In light of such unfathomable violence, what can we do?

Monsignor Stuart Swetland advises, “Hatred is an absence of love.  To overcome hatred, replace it with love.”

This might have worked in a feel-good movie with the Staypuff Marshmallow Man leading the way, but how can we do this in real life?

CNN interview of Robbie Parker

Many of us saw an example of extraordinary love in a television news interview Robbie Parker, the young father of Emilie, one of the six-year-old shooting victims.  He immediately looked past his own pain and offered his deepest condolences to all families directly affected, including the family of the perpetrator.  He selflessly noted that he couldn’t imagine what they must be going through.  Then he noted that Emilie would have been one of the first to stand before them and offer comfort.  She was that kind of compassionate person, “not because of any parenting that my wife and I could have done…but because those were the gifts given to her by her Heavenly Father…The world is a better place because she has been in it…I’m so blessed to be her dad.”Such mercy and humility…It takes your breath away.

Those who believe in the power of prayer for the deceased will pray for the 27 victims.  But, this father’s empathy challenges us to reach even deeper.  We can and should pray for the soul of the perpetrator as well. Who knows the state of his heart? Only an irreparably wounded, emotionally bankrupt soul could do such a horrific act.

Yes, let’s hug the children and teachers in our lives, but let’s not stop there.  Let’s shake the hand of a stranger and offer an ear to the lonely.  Who knows what troubled soul may need to be filled with love today.

The Voice  Sandy Hook Tribute

Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen

101 Reasons to Celebrate

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Sadness surrounds us. I know. Recently my brother-in-law learned that he has a large, cancerous time-bomb (tumor) in his body.  Then, a friend’s brother died in a motorcycle accident and a beloved MN SCBWI member and her husband perished in a house fire.  These events led me to ponder the frailty of the human condition (and change my underwear and go to confession). It should have led me to finally write my will.  Instead, I imagined what I’d say from my new home if I made it to my preferred destination.

101 Reasons to Celebrate

  1. DEATH IS CONQUERED!
    Number one pretty much covers the reasons to celebrate.  But I’ve never been one to summarize, so here’s a few — er — one hundred — more reasons:
  2. We’re more passionately loved than we will ever love or be loved.
  3. I did, said, and thought some pretty stupid, embarrassing, and awful things on earth, but, for the life of me, I can’t remember them anymore — and neither can God or anyone else.
  4. If we let Him, He teaches us to empty ourselves, to make room for His Love. I won’t kid you.  The emptying is painful.  It’s like giving birth — no, it IS giving birth — but, the labor pains are, oh, so worth it.  He calls our internal junk out of the stinky tomb of our souls.  I’m giving birth — to a new me! Please, be happy for me and start emptying yourself now.  You’ll thank me later.
  5. I love you and always will. In fact, I never really left you.  I’m nearer to you than ever, because I’m not distracted by my own needs. This clarity helps me to intercede and love you and accept your love better.
  6. I can finally be authentically me.  No spinning plates to impress. And, I like me better because I’m a new, improved me.
  7. All of our relatives, friends, and acquaintances are even better looking and nicer than they were on earth.  And, we get to meet people who were forgotten.  My siblings that Mom and Dad lost to miscarriage are very much alive and full of personality.  I’d tell you more about them, but I want you to be pleasantly surprised, like I was.
  8. You’ll be surprised by the things you don’t have to worry about here – like global warming, nuclear war, and hard butter.
  9. It’s never too hot or too cold here.  Like Goldilocks’ porridge.  It’s just right.
  10. You don’t have to sleep, because you’re never tired. So, no nightmares. Yet, you can rest and dream all you want.
  11. Work is optional/occasional, so no burnout.  People can volunteer to do anything they want.  One day you can be a chef; the next, a mountain climber; the next, a bungee cord tester… No one ever has to be an undertaker, a tax collector, or that guy who  puts the cotton balls in vitamin bottles.
  12. No snakes in trees selling apples.  He’s outta here.
  13. No contact lenses, glasses…We have better than 20/20 vision.  We can see into each other’s souls.
  14. Communication comes through the aforementioned process, so no cluttered inboxes, spam, or cyber viruses.
  15. We don’t have to do any gross bodily functions. Animals don’t do them either, so it’s easier to love our neighbor and his dog.
  16. But, we can eat whatever we want, whenever we want, and all we want.  You can eat just one Lay’s Potato Chip or you can eat the whole bag. Calories evaporate.
  17. Food tastes – I can’t even describe it – like heaven.  Nothing expires.  Think of the sweetest fruit, the spiciest salsa, or the freshest guacamole you ever tasted on earth.  It wouldn’t make the grade here.
  18. Everything is alive here – even the stones, the gems, the grass, the flowers.
  19. Everything smells incredible, but no one sneezes.  No one is allergic to anything.
  20. Nothing dies, so nothing stinks – not even Babe Ruth’s socks or my breath.  No need for deodorant, mouthwash or flossing.
  21. The water is so clear you can see the jewels at the bottom of the streams. And, the roads really are paved with gold.  “Eye has not seen…”
  22. Everything’s a celebration here, so the sound is of everyone’s individual expression of elation, joy and praise.  No one is off-tune here, but every soul’s voice is unique and harmonizes with the others’.  You’ve never heard anything so beautiful.  “Ear has not heard…”
  23. Everyone gets their own mansion, greater than their grandest dreams on this earth.  But, there’s no jealousy.  We all love what we have.
  24. Everyone is safe here. No one has to lock doors – in fact, we don’t need doors.
  25. No one worries about stealing. Everyone has what they need.
  26. All souls are respected — even Rodney Dangerfield.
  27. St. Gabriel and Louis Armstrong are teaching me to play trumpet. Next, Charlie Parker’s teaching me the sax; Amelia Earhart, St. Raphael, and my guardian angel are giving me flying lessons; then, by cracky, Steve Irwin and St. Joan of Arc are taking me alligator wrestling. As you can see, we have access to infinite knowledge and an eternity to explore, learn, write, read, compose, create… The sky’s the…There’s no limit.
  28. There are no handicaps or illness.  Every part of our body functions perfectly with no aches or pain.
  29. Our brain-functions better.  I can converse with Einstein and St. Augustine without scratching my head wondering what they’re saying. And, I think fast enough to say my funny one-liners on time, not just wish I’d said them.
  30. There are no bad-hair days.  No head lice epidemics. Hair doesn’t fall out or grow, so we don’t need to get haircuts or shave.
  31. Our toenails don’t grow.  Perfect manicure and pedicure all the time.
  32. Crops and plants replenish immediately as you pick them. Grass always stays the same length, so no need to mow. Everything’s alive, so if  you want the smell of cut grass, just ask the grass. It’ll comply.
  33. Our features are perfect. No need for mascara, eyeliner, guyliner, or anything artificial of any kind. So, no plastic surgery.
  34. Travel is done by our minds.  We think it; we’re there.
  35. We never get lost.  And, we never have to ask for directions. We have internal navigation systems.
  36. We still have our distinct personalities. Yet, there’s no politics.  Everyone’s on the same, enlightened page. And we learned that no one on earth had all the answers, except our patient God.
  37. Everything good, true, or beautiful created on earth is here.  There are museums full of stuff.  That poem I wrote in 5th grade?  God liked it.
  38. We can hang with all animals.  Monkeys don’t steal your food or wipe it on you. Camels don’t spit and insects don’t bite. There are even dinosaurs, tarantulas, and snakes here, because God says He didn’t make any mistakes.  They have these sensors in their feet so they don’t step on you. (The dinosaurs, not the tarantulas and snakes.)
  39. You’d be surprised who’s here that you’d never expected – and who’s not here. But you understand that being here was each person’s choice, not God’s.
  40. All souls need your prayers.  I didn’t get into Heaven by myself.  My praying family and friends lifted me through the roof.  Their faith helped me say “yes”.  If someone’s name pops in your head, it’s probably a cue to pray for them.  If no one’s name pops in your head, pray for those who have no one to pray for them.
  41. No one needs privacy or shadows.  We like the Light.
  42. No need for translations.  Everyone understands everyone.
  43. No one’s older than 33, but we can be any age we want, 33 or younger, at any time.  Sometimes it’s nice to try things over or just to be held on Our Dad’s chest.
  44. There’s no gravity here, unless we want it for an earth-simulation experience, so no saggy body parts.  We don’t need gravity — even to travel. Everything’s alive to will itself in harmony with everything else.  Even the streets paved with gold will themselves to serve God from under our feet.
  45. Everyone’s body is in perfect proportion. No need for weigh scales or liposuction.
  46. All wounds, inside and out, are healed. No shock treatments or blaming your mother for anything.
  47. Everyone has all of their teeth in perfect alignment.  No cavities or dental floss…
  48. We can and do touch and feel pleasure in its purest form.  Cowabunga!  THIS is what God intended? Who knew?
  49. The colors here are like none we see on earth.  Even colors are alive!
  50. There’s a flash mob every moment for every new soul(s) entering heaven.  Keeps the twelve tribes in party mode. St. Michael and his archangels invented this aerial dance with OT King David.  It’s #1 on the pop charts and going viral. They can’t wait to teach it to MC Hammer and Psy.
  51. God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit really are three Divine Persons in One.  You’ll understand when you’re here.
  52. Jesus is drop alive gorgeous.
  53. Mother Mary is more beautiful than Angelina Jolie.
  54. Joseph’s a really cool guy.  So humble…
  55. Everyone’s the same religion here.
  56. We don’t have to pick out what to wear here. And, no one’s butt looks big.
  57. Adrenaline without pain. We can do everything we wanted to do on earth, but were afraid, couldn’t afford, ran out of time…They’re called simulated earth experiences.  Earth-like things are allowed to happen – parachutes not opening, whales swallowing you, etc., but we never experience the wounds or death that comes from trying it on earth.
  58. We learn the truth about history and how God worked in it.  Like we learned that aspartame made tons of unsuspecting people sick.  And, many of the victims of the holocaust had a speedier route to heaven because the suffering they endured on earth emptied them. God evens everything out in the end, so we don’t fret the past here.  We just marvel at how God was always there with us, in control.  Nothing from the evil side thwarts the joy of Heaven.  It only makes us marvel more.
  59. We can meet anyone – from any century.  And, no one is unapproachable.  As you read this I’m hanging out with C.S. Lewis, Johnny Carson, Chris Farley, Gilda Radner, and my mom and dad and brothers, while Etta James and Elvis Presley serenade.
  60. There’s no time here, no deadlines, and no anxiety.
  61. There’s no dust or lint, so no housework or cleaning out belly buttons.
  62. No predators — animal or human. Children are safe.  Males know the color of female’s eyes and when they say they love you, they mean it.
  63. I can do a cart-wheel. So can Grandma.
  64. That guy who took credit for my idea at work?  Doesn’t matter here. He’s sorry and forgiven.
  65. We don’t have to tweeze or wax anything.
  66. No need for Kleenexes.  No boogers.
  67. No crabby cashiers, expired coupons, or stock market crashes.  Everything’s free.
  68. No problems finding parking spaces and no road rage.  But, you can drive a Roman chariot, a Lamborghini, or invent your own car, like the ones that fly in the Jetsons.
  69. One Boss. He’s the King, actually.
  70. He’s not like an earthly king.  Our King loves everyone and treats everyone kinder than fair, regardless of race, color, gender, and ball team affiliations.
  71. Our One Boss gives the ultimate bonuses – mansions and His own  life.  In fact, we think of Him as Our Dad, Our King, and Our Loving Spouse. I know that sounds weird, but you’ll appreciate this later.
  72. No scary movies here. No dead people allowed.
  73. I don’t run funny here. (At least nobody laughs.) And, I’m as fast as I wanna be.
  74. We can really see what it’s like to fly like an eagle and swim like a dolphin.
  75. No Internal Revenue Service, speeding tickets, or jails.
  76. No varicose veins, hemorrhoids, foot fungus, acne, or gingivitis.
  77. Mosquitoes and vampires don’t suck blood here.
  78. My team always wins. (Actually, not really, but, I’m happy now because when someone wins, everyone wins.)
  79. No need for alcohol or drugs to get high.
  80. No smoking, because no desire to smoke.  No addictions here.
  81. Sandy beaches without sand fleas, cigarette butts, or dog poop surprises.
  82. Magnificent forests without tick bites, outhouse anxiety, and angry bears.
  83. No inclement weather. It only snows or rains if you want snow or rain. (They make the best snow angels here.)
  84. Rainbows with or without rain. And real gold at the end.
  85. No darkness unless we need some for shadow puppets. The sun/Son always shines.
  86. I can’t kill plants here.
  87. No need for mouse or ant traps.  They aren’t annoying here.
  88. No gray hair – unless you want it.
  89. We remember only the good. Same with Our Spouse.
  90. We are always thankful.
  91. Nothing tastes bitter and nobody is bitter.
  92. You can pet porcupines, squeeze skunks, and stroke stingrays with no adverse effect.
  93. Words never hurt and we can trust our name on everyone’s lips
  94. Nothing is hidden. Unless you want to play hide and seek.
  95. No waiting here – in line, for the check in the mail, for success — ever.
  96. No time-outs, tempers, or tantrums here.
  97. My dog, Wally, and my cat, Maggie, still remember me. Your pets will, too.
  98. I get to say all the things I wished I’d have said on earth – and say them better than I would have.
  99. I get to do all the things I wished I’d have done on earth – and…
  100. No more anger, fighting, sickness, suffering, guilt, sorrow, or shame here.  Everyone is happy, contented, and forgiven – forever.
  101. This place is – Heaven!

    Click the photo for Nicholas David’s goose-pimple inducing rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” from The Voice-2012.

Disclaimer:  Much of this comes from the tiny, presumptuous imagination of Anna Marras; it’s not THE GOSPEL.
Qualifier: The Bible gives us genuine reasons to celebrate.

1 Corinthians 2:9: “But this is just as it has been written: The eye has not seen, and the ear has not heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love Him.”

My One Thing

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Author Sarah Stewart recommends that writers for children cling to one thing from our own childhood for inspiration.  (See her one thing.) In my search for my one thing I finally uncovered a treasure — this tattered, torn, and taped Fun at the Beach book by Gloria Trachtenberg; illustrated by Dagmar Wilson.

MY one thing.

As you can see, it’s old and outdated.  But, that’s okay.  I’m old and outdated.

The Tiny Tales book, copywritten in 1960, made me relieved that books — and their owners — don’t have expiration dates.  And, it made me happy, because I had my one thing from my childhood.  The feel of the little book’s soft pages and even its smell brought me back in time to my mother’s cozy lap, fire crackling in the fireplace, and Pa playing the fiddle.  Oh, wait, my dad didn’t play the fiddle. Okay, the harmonica.  Oh, wait, my dad didn’t play the harmonica. Nevertheless, the book made me happy…

FunattheBeachBanner

We were rebels. Notice: no seat belts or car seats.

…at least until I photographed the book for this blog post.

This book belongs to…BOBBY? I wonder if he wants it back?

I’ll have to contact Ms. Stewart.  Can a book, borrowed from my cousin half a decade ago, count as my one thing?

Life-changing Words

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Words.  They come in and out of us from every direction.  Today our minds are saturated with them.

Remember the ones that changed your life? Usually they come like brain-or-heart-embedding arrows.

As a young adult, I complained to my mom about the ineffectiveness of a leader in our small community.  She said, “What are YOU doing to make (the situation) better?”

In one verbal punch, Mom knocked me on my keester to teach humility and walk-a-mile-in-another’s-shoes-empathy.

Recently I asked a young Canadian, Jacinta, “What’s your goal in life?”

She startled me in the profound simplicity of her answer: “To love better.”

In three words Jacinta lifted my vision above the clutter and taught me priority.

Words. Use them well.

Hello Dolly Date

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The sweetness of our first official grandparent/grandchild “date” prompted me to plan another happily-ever-after family event just for the girls:  me, my doll (my daughter), her dolls (her three daughters), and their dolls (really — their dolls: McKenna, Ashley, and Katie). Our foo-foo destination — brunch at the American Girl Doll Bistro.

The younger girls’ dolls are Americans, girls, and dolls – just, unbeknownst to them, with a less expensive “g”.  To avoid melt-downs, I called ahead to inquire if all dolls would be welcome. Thankfully, the AG representative assured me that they do NOT discriminate against dolls of any origin, even from the less affluent side of the tracks.

When I picked up my dates, I expected the front door welcoming committee with the usual accolades – hugs, kisses, and “You’re the best grandma in the world”.  Instead, one granddaughter argued with her mom about the relevance of brushing hair, another love-wrestled her little brother to tears, and the littlest stomped, crossed her arms and protruded her bottom lip.  “I didn’t get bweakfast.”

“We’re going for brunch, Sweet Pea.”

“I don’t want bwunch. I want pancakes.”

Their dolls looked perky and groomed — but them — not so much. Apparently, they’d stayed up past their bedtime the night before. I threatened that we couldn’t go until they brushed their hair.  No bristles made contact.  I stood my ground — for about 45 seconds — until the one who once cut her sister’s hair said, “Why can’t we just be bald and wear wigs?”

Everyone gets great service at the American Girl Doll Bistro.

At the bistro, while I envisioned bald granddaughters, two girls at the table next to us gushed over official AG photographs.  I whispered to the server, “How much?”

“Twelve dollars each.”

I flinched.  It seemed a silly extravagance on top of barely touched $14 pancakes, especially since I brought my camera.  Unfortunately, the granddaughter with perfect hearing determined that life would not be worth living without official pictures.  So, she whined. I stood my ground — for about 55 seconds — until the “cheapskate” sign flashed on my forehead.

Apparently, the AG photographer saw my neon sign.  She humored me by asking if I wanted to take some pictures, too.  I happily  complied.
To escape the paparazzi  frenzy, the girls fled to nearest amusement park ride — the AG store escalator.  As my daughter and the oldest descended, I climbed on the top step with the youngest.  The middle granddaughter let go of my hand and stopped, causing a jam of escalator-goers behind her.  I heard “I’m too scared” as her sister and I disappeared below.”You wait there!” The Superman theme played in my head as we hastily got in line to ascend.

“Wook!” The youngest pointed.  The bottom half of the descending escalator was empty.  In the middle, an embarrassed, but chivalrous teenage male AG security guard held my granddaughter’s hand.  Granddaughter #2 beamed like a little debutant as an amused entourage packed behind them.

Better than an escalator.

Nickelodean Stare Down

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We grown-ups suggested real amusement park rides to avoid making the AG Doll’s worst customers list.  After zooming, swooping, spinning, and saying “no” to 375 pleas for SpongeBob SquarePants novelty items, my daughter and I suggested a dessert diversion. The girls chose cotton candy and then determined they liked my daughter’s and my ice cream better.  I stood my ground for about 15 seconds — until they found extra spoons.

The flawed fairy tale might have seemed a disappointment — if not for little boxes of table topics that grace the tables at the AG Doll Bistro.  One question: “What was your favorite childhood memory?”

My daughter and I reminisced about holidays past. Two of the granddaughters cited their birthdays.  But, soon-to-be-Escalator-Girl put her head on my shoulder and wistfully sighed, “THIS is MY favorite childhood memory.”

Seems the best memories don’t require perfect hair or even perfect harmony.

 

Strategic Spontaneity

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We’re not sure how our oldest grandchild morphed into a social seven-year-old, but it caught us off-guard.  Her maturation snuck by us so quickly. To our hearts’ discontent — gasp — she now prefers playing with her friends over hanging with her grandparents.

We have two choices: 1.) wallow in self-pity, mourning the passing of the once-glorious moments she clung to our legs in worship or 2.) thank God for those memories and revel in her marvelous, normal development.

We chose Door #2.

Really, she hasn’t outgrown us.  She’s simply distracted.  Staying present amongst the diversions in our grandchildren’s  lives will simply require more creativity.  So, my husband and I formulated a strategic plan, incorporating  a tradition of semi-annual Grandpa and Grandma “dates” when each of our grandchildren will be the center of our universe.

We’ve only completed one Grandpa and Grandma Date and we’ve already determined that these modest events will soar among the highlights of our lives. 

During our first official date, our granddaughter (Ms. Social) selected dinner at A&W Root Beer and shopping as her excursion. She held our hands and skipped, often lifting her feet, so that we could swing her through the air. To encourage selflessness — and because children are starving in Bangladesh (we are cheapskates) — we took her to the dollar store to shop for her siblings. We worried she would consider us miserly.  Instead, she glowed, as if she had inherited a treasure. She carefully searched out the perfect stuffed animal for her toddler brother, an art apron for her pre-school sister, and window decals for her kindergartner sister.

She brought her own money to purchase eye glasses for her nearsighted doll.  We helped her do inventory of her pennies and nickels and Grandpa slipped in some extra change to cover her selection.


She declined amusement park rides, getting sidetracked by an ice cream/cookie sandwich.

When we dropped her off at her home she proudly distributed her gifts — a consolation for the formerly sad siblings who wanted to go on the first first date.

While we admired her admiring her bespectacled doll, Ms. Social whispered, “I love you, Grandma.  I love you, Grandpa.” This led me to skip–even though Grandpa couldn’t swing me when I lifted my feet.

Since then, we’ve decided to be proactive with our grown children and our friends as well — diligent in designing more quality interaction rather than hoping the moments will spontaneously occur.

911: The Universal Call to Action

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Tragedy is not a typical topic for a blog about writing for children.  But, since today is the eleventh anniversary of 9/11, it seems only right to reflect and grow.  There’s no escaping history and our children may need to talk about it.

During a recent tour of Washington, DC, on the way from the U.S. Air Force Memorial to Arlington Cemetery, our tour guide pointed out the bus window, “And, there is the Pentagon.  Note the section of limestone, lighter than the rest.  That is where American Airlines Flight 77 flew into the structure.  The benches on the grounds by the Pentagon are part of a memorial — each one signifying the loss of a life that day.”

Everyone in the bus grew pensive.

I’m sure you remember where you were that September morning.  I sat, oblivious, in a clinic waiting room. Then someone turned on the TV.  A year later, I spoke on behalf of our Chamber of Commerce at a city-wide memorial service.  I still have my decade-old notes:

Everything  changed on September 11. This horrendous event, meant to demoralize America and steal our faith, has indeed brought us to our knees.  But, little did our adversaries know that in our humblest moments, we are  strongest — when we can admit our need for God’s help and each other.

Isn’t it ironic that the numbers nine-eleven would hold significance to our adversaries as a number which would inspire them to do harm? In America, nine-one-one is the universal call to positive action, when we are called to help and care for each other.

Misguided men meant to change our country in a negative way — to tear us apart. Yes, we were changed, but not in the way they had hoped.  They’ve taken our pride and we’ve traded pride for wisdom.  They’ve taken our indifference and we’ve traded indifference for compassion.  They’ve taken our ingratitude and we’ve traded ingratitude for appreciation — a deep appreciation for the great country in which we live. They’ve taken a part of our hearts, but hearts regenerate.  The more we give of our hearts, the more our hearts grow.  Our adversaries have enlarged America’s heart to strengthen our love for one another. Yes, we have been changed — for the better.  Because, we are not the Solo States of America, we are the United States of America, one nation, under God, indivisible… May God bless America. (End of notes.)

Let’s talk with our kids today.  If we don’t have the words, Martin Luther King Jr. does:

THE ULTIMATE MEASURE OF A MAN IS NOT WHERE HE STANDS IN MOMENTS OF  COMFORT AND CONVENIENCE, BUT WHERE HE STANDS AT TIMES OF CHALLENGE AND CONTROVERSY. ~ MLK quote, Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial, Washington, D.C.

Aye Aye, Captain

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I’m practicing my salute in anticipation of our son’s return to the States next year.  He was recently promoted to Captain, but we didn’t get to witness his commissioning.  He serves our country with other brave men and women in a scary, far-off land that doesn’t specialize in tourism.  Yet, this is his second tour there — to try to make a difference.

To me, he’s still our little boy. I know he hates that, and could crush a coconut in the crook of his arm, but he’ll always be that to me — especially now.

I phoned our other son, Captain’s little 6’4-contractor-family-man brother, and asked “What should I send your brother?  What gift can possibly express, ‘Congratulations on becoming a Captain!'”

“Send him a box of Cap’n Crunch.”

Brothers are so sappy, aren’t they?  And, ingenious.

This inspired me to brainstorm for other resourceful items to commemorate the auspicious occasion.  After all, the Captain had sent me this Mother’s Day sentiment :

Caution! This video will lodge in your head and cause bad-hair dreams.
Also, an ad pops up.  Sorry.   I couldn’t find the original.

 So, here’s my list of TOP TEN THINGS TO SEND A NEW CAPTAIN.  You might want to use it — unless you have more cash (and class) than us.  And, I know, some of these items will only make him scratch his stubbly head:

10.  Captain America Blu Ray (So he gets one gift he can share with his men.)

9. Captain America T-shirt (So everyone will know he’s a Captain, even when he’s wearing civilian clothes.)

 

8. Captain Kangaroo’s Surprise Party Golden Book (Duh! Because it’s time to party!)

7. Captain America bobble head — Just because…

 

6. A Captain Jack Sparrow Tribute to the tune of “I Am Your Captain” by Grand Funk Railroad (Two Captains for the price of one.)

5. A YouTube of Captain Kangaroo with Mr. Moose. (Snappy dressers should stick together.)

 

4. Captain & Tennille YouTube – “Muskrat Love” (In case he starts to hate his job, he can consider what it’d be like to be  this captain.)

 

3. A box of Cap’n Crunch Cereal (Straight. No berries or peanut butter for a real Captain.)

 

2. A boxed set of Captain Underpants paperbacks.             (No explanation required.)

 

 

1. Nostalgic pictures of our Captain Underpants (packaged discreetly, so they don’t end up in enemy hands).

 

A Picture Book Without Pictures

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A picture book without pictures is like the Pips without Gladys Knight:

Click the image to see the YouTube video

For the life of me, I can’t remember whose writer/illustrator blog featured this clever insight — but I concur.  I’m so thankful to have Elise Hylden, writer and illustrator, in our writers’ group.  She continually challenges me to say more with less.  At the 2011 MN SCBWI Conference, Illustrator Dan Santat noted the brilliance of children’s book author, Mac Barnett.

During a break, to uncover the secret of brilliant writing, I purchased Barnett and Santat’s collaboration, Oh No!  Was I surprised to find that the number of words in
Oh No! equals the number of times I use the bathroom in a day.  Yet the book was, as Santat promised, brilliant.

The illustrations that poured out of Barnett’s initial idea make the book.  Obviously, Dan Santat is one of the most brilliant illustrators Mac Barnett has ever met. The book is what it is because Barnett trusted.  He had faith in his illustrator to transform his thoughts into an out-of-this-world adventure.

I don’t have his trust — yet.  Sometimes I leave words, intending that they can be cut later, clutching to them as if to a life vest that holds my vision.  Barnett is more secure.

Barnett doesn’t need a critique group, but I wonder how Oh No! would fare under the scrutiny of the status quo.  I can see the margin scribbles on his manuscript:

       This makes absolutely no sense.

       You might need to explain this for blind kids.

       A giant frog seems a highly illogical choice to solve your protagonist’s dilemma.

       You don’t even tell your protagonist’s name for — wait!  You don’t ever tell your
protagonist’s name! Where is your character development?  Will she capture an audience if we don’t even know her name?

(My daydream has more words than the book.)

Just when I’m wrapping my head around Oh No!, Brian Snelznick comes out with
The Invention of Hugo Cabrat and Wonderstruck — thick, honkin’ books of silence.

Interestingly, these books that speak softly and carry big sticks are by men. My husband would be thrilled by this audibly “quiet”, visually “loud” trend — if he knew about it. Are these works possible for us word-abundant females?

Maybe I need more silence to see and hear clearly.

Room For More

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I love having children in our home. Our children and grandchildren bless us abundantly, but there will always be room in my heart for more.  Therein lies my motivation to author picture books. I can write more children into the world and introduce them to our grandchildren.  I can name, incorporate family traits and idiosyncrasies, and hit the backspace when they get too sassy or unmanageable.

The other morning I awoke to a dream that my husband and I had adopted a little boy.  Before I was coherent I murmured to my husband, who was in the bathroom, out of earshot, “Thank you so much.  I LOVE him.”

Now I realize the boy I’d “adopted” is the protagonist in my latest picture book manuscript.  Like my own kids — the more I nurture him, the more I know and love him.

To add flesh to my picture book characters and story, I’ve made a dummy for each manuscript.  (A dummy is a 32-page mock book to assist in structuring a story.) Since I’m artistically-challenged, I use Microsoft Publisher to incorporate clipart.  This serves me well to create reader-friendly  stories for “test drives” with my grandchildren and others.

Unfortunately, (or fortunately — depending upon the day), there’s no clipart that truly depicts my family – even those adopted in my dreams.  Ironically, the clipart protagonist I chose (from iclipart.com) has red hair.  No one in our immediate family has red hair. Perhaps I chose a red-head because I didn’t want anyone to recognize who he might be in real life.  Or, maybe I’m subconsiously fashioning him after a young Napolean Dynamite NapoleonDynamiteor my red-headed cousin that I haven’t seen since childhood: Bobby Bill.  Hmmm…come to think of it…

Just yesterday I tried changing the color of my protagonist’s skin and hair because I thought potential agents might be looking for a more exotic approach.  Then I realized how silly that was.  When the “real” illustrator gets ahold of my stories, the characters will look exactly as they are meant to look.  It’s like giving birth.  Initially, I won’t know who’ll come out, but I’ll trust the one/One fashioning them for life in the world.  After all, I already love my “children” before I behold their faces, because I’ve already held them in my heart.

Sometimes a character is really mini me (an older, female Napoleon Dynamite). One manuscript is about terminal tardiness.  The story line came to me after pulling on two locked doors minutes after closing time.  First, I stood at the post office door with a time-sensitive document, then at the optical office across town with old, worn contacts in my eyes.  All of the fruitless running made me late for a dinner date with my husband. I hated the feeling of disappointing him with my carelessness.

Interestingly, our daughter thinks the story’s about her brother, our oldest son.  (Sorry son – it’s in the genes.)

Our granddaughters point at the characters in a story and argue, “I’m her.”

“No, I’m her!”

“NO, I’M HER!

“How ‘bout all of us be her?”

It’s fun to see the character(s) they most identify with – and to learn why. (Usually it’s whoever’s wearing pink.)

I’m excited by the opportunity to create new possibilities, relive lessons learned, investigate ones not learned, and ensure happy endings where they’re missing.  The best thing about writing children’s books?  The children we create can stay children forever.  And, they can live on — long after we’re gone — so our children’s children can enjoy them, too.