I’m baaaaaaaack!

How’s summer working out for y’all so far? We’ve had some seriously hot days, gone swimming, planted lots of yellow and pink flowers, and barbecued a lot. But  this weekend, the fourth of July, is the BIG start of summer. BBQs turn into firefly-catching and fireworks-watching events. Summer breezes sing all around us. We eat too many s’mores and drag sand into the house and get bit by loads of mosquitoes. July fourth is when you can feel summer on your neck and in your ears. It’s when the world slows down and speeds up all at the same time. And when summer reading on a lounge chair under a setting sun, with lemonade in hand, just seems so…well, perfect. Whiffle ball and jumpropes, coconut oil and aloe vera cream, and popsicles melted all over my fingers.

I could go on and on.  However, my biggest accomplishment so far this summer has not taken place on the beach or by the pool. Best event was the office clean. In the midst of not-writing my blog for the past few years, I’d accumulated a mess of papers and junk all over my office space. (Seriously guys, this place was an episode of Hoarders). But I finally organized my books, polished my floor, and put up the things that inspire me. 

Unbelieveably, the bookshelves have been organized.

Among my stuff is my favorite poster of all time, which hangs over my desk. There’s a story behind it. (Isn’t there a story behind everything?)

I first saw this poster when I used an “author” calendar, filled with photos of favorite writers seated behind their desks. Some writers had little cabins in the woods, some lurked on the seashore in their hammocks, and still others wrote from behind stately oak desks with books piled high all around.

My favorite writing desk–and author–was a nonfiction writer named Susan Sontag. I have only read a select few of her essays and criticism and one novel, but WOWZA I really dug her workspace.

Check it out:

Author and essayist Susan Sontag

We can ignore the cigarette in her hand but everything else is–mwwwwah!–perfection. And dig that poster behind her! Something about old-fashioned typewriters and little stacks of hardcover books gets my brain humming.

After seeing this pic, I spent 10 years looking for a copy of this poster for myself. I figured if I could look even half as groovy sitting under the poster at my desk then I’d be all set.

Finally, I found the Olivetti poster–ordered it promptly–had it framed. And now this is what I look at behind my desktop computer. I imagine those flying pages flying out of my printer. I imagine poems I can write. And I have window boxes planted with flowers just outside the windows of my office, too. Windows, posters, mirrors.

Inspiration is everywhere. So whenever I scribble-scrabble in this blog, here’s what I see:

Here's how I stay on "track" with my writing. Yeah, I know. Lame pun.

I think we all need to start our summers with the things that inspire us most. So tell me what would be on your list of inspirations? Seriously, TELL ME.

Juice boxes and jellybeans? X-Box and faded jeans (a la the sisterhood!)? Or your diary, your dog, or maybe just the idea that in the summertime there is the possibility that anything can happen?

And I do mean anything.

Let’s just make sure we keep checking in all summer long. I’ll post pics and ideas and dreams. You do the same. Hugs from here.

And don’t forget the sunblock.

Okay, so I had to go to this shmancy dinner thing tonight. The kind of party where you spend all this money on raffles and win some dopey mug or a teeny picture frame you’ll never use.

And get this: I won! I got two awesome prizes, including a dinner party for TEN PEOPLE in my house. Hey, I wish I could invite all of you!

So I’m thinking, with my lucky loot tonight…is it time to rush out and play the lottery? Is my luck–somehow–looking up? Should I up the ante on luck–and go for broke?

I have steadfastly celebrated my lucky number as NINE for my entire life. Seriously–I was born on the 9th of the month at 1:09 AM. That has to mean something!  Despite this oh-so-lucky numeral, however, I was never the kid who won the raffle prize or who got picked first for basketball. And I sure didn’t guess the number of jelly beans in the jar at the school fair.

Not me.

I ran the other way when I saw black cats. I crossed my fingers (and toes) a lot. I decided it was smarter to belive in leprechauns than not to believe. I never stepped near a ladder, let along walk under one. And one day I just I stopped saying, “Lucky you,” because it felt like I was giving my luck away.

But not tonight. Tonight I feel lucky. And I’m rolling with it–and my amazing dinner.

Tell me about one time when you had a lotta luck. I love hearing stories.

Spring is really here in New York. Sunshine. Breezes that wrap warm around me. Today is a little bit like a poem. It brings up old and new feelings and makes my toes tap (just a little). All day long (well, it is St. Paddy’s day) I’ve been humming Celtic riffs. There’s a box accordion playing in my head.

But it’s hard not to think about Japan and the aftermath of that horrible earthquake and tsunami. What a week. Those brave men who are in the nuclear power plant, trying to get it right, risking so much danger; putting out their best for a country facing its worst. Japan has already rebuilt in its lifetime after World War II…and now faces the task of rebuilding again.

What do you really know about this part of the world? Have you been reading the newspaper? How do these major events make you feel about life there–or here? Is anyone reading this from Japan?

There are always so many questions to ask.

Yesterday I visited my daughter’s class at school to teach writing. I’m going in for a few mornings this spring to do fun stuff and try to inspire the kids. We worked on description together: brainstorming, dreaming, getting our heads chock full of sensory details like sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch. We listened to music; ate chocolate kisses. The kids were so smart! Everything we described together turned into a poem.

My favorite was The Clouds.

There is nothing better than a poem we all make together.

And clouds is a timely topic, isn’t it? I am, of course, thinking (again) about Japan, whose clouds have changed this week. Their clouds are now contaminated over that part of Japan where the nuclear reactor is damaged. 

There are moments when everything and everyone must come together. That’s when REAL spring comes: green, warm, welcoming. I hope the Japanese will find their spring again.

Let’s all hope for that.

Hey, one more question (because I can’t help myself):

If spring = hope; what do YOU hope for?

Sometimes the best thing I can do for a friend is make her (or him) a pretty picture. Or, as I like to say, pretty goofy pic. LOL.



The scribble scrabble art above was something I did for t-shirts at my daughter’s birthday party. All the girls colored theirs with neons and reds and purples and then danced around to Rhianna and Lady Gaga.  

Hey: what’s the funniest thing you ever made for your BFF?

(Me? I used to be addicted to collage boxes. I would cut words out of magazines and glue ‘em down to old cigar boxes. I once made a shell box, too, using about 100 shells I collected over an entire summer.)

P.S. When you drop me a note, please let me know the state/country where you live. But you know cyber-safety: never, ever tell anyone online your full name or exact address. Ever.

So tonight I’m hanging out with my daughter. Our entire house has been sucked into the strange and awful flu zone (some of us have flu, some strep, all tired). Anyway, we’re talking about girls at school, books in class, and life in general. She calls herself “Curious Georgette” lately, which is pretty cute, especially when she smirks at me when she says it.

Then she drops the A-bomb: she’s reading Nancy Drew in school. My heart stops. Nancy? Fancy Nancy? DREW?!

I know it’s not that unusual. Most pre-teen girls dabble in the Drew at least once in their lives; and have been since the 1930s. But my daughter’s admission sent my head reeling. Of course that could have been the Nyquil, too.

Nancy Drew for me–only child, library dweller, and mystery nut–was sheer salvation. Anytime I was sick as a child, Nancy was my best company. At age 7, I remember being stuck inside with a fever, reading The Secret of the Old Clock. I scribbled something on the inside cover saying so. I still have that book.

Here are three editions of Secret of the Old Clock. Mine looked like the one in the middle.

Was it possible that some thirty-five years later, my daughter had been reading Nancy Drew when she was sick, too? Yes! Sure, she was reading  Nancy Drew #946 or something, an updated tale, like Movie Mystery Mega-Madness. But still. She knew Ned Nickerson. Imagine that!

Somehow, across time, my daughter and I have been connected again by books. We did it with Pooh. And Jam for Frances. And those ducklings in Boston Common.

And now, how so like Nancy, to show up and save the day. Tomorrow, I am going down to the basement to pull out my old copy of Secret in the Old Clock, the book I held in my hot (literally, hot with fever) little hands back in 1974.

I will now pass it on to my own budding detective, my very own Curious Georgette. Nancy lives!

Hey, before I sign off, I’m just wondering: 

What do you like/not like about Nancy Drew books? What’s the best mystery you ever read?

Drop me a note. I’d love to use this blog as a place to answer questions and address comments & thoughts from readers. Thanks for taking the time to check in!

Turn the clocks ahead. Grrrrrrr. I’m already missing that hour.

What do you look forward to MOST when Spring comes? Gimme your top five Spring things. I’ll bet $5 that Peeps are on everyone’s list. My top 5:

1. Warm breezes

2. The smell of hyacinth (one of my fave flowers)

3. Spring break!!!! (Of course)

4. Green everywhere

5. Okay fine. PEEPS!

Send me your list. I’m waiting. You can send me your Cadbury chocolate eggs, too.

Right now it’s raining outside. Some kind of weather has been getting in the way for the past few months. You know what I mean? First it was horridly hot summer temps, then snow that would never end, and now the rains have come. We are all getting flooded.

Sometimes that’s how writer brain feels–or at least my brain. Flooded. With ideas, with to-do lists, with a whole lotta busy. And sometimes–no, all the time–those floods make it very challenging to sit down and just write. I find it impossible to put pen to paper (or fingertip to keyboard) and slosh through the stuff on my desk.

I never had writer’s block until recently. It’s more like stuck. Do you ever get stuck? Like when you have a paper due for school and it’s Sunday at 8 PM and your mom is giving you one of those “uh…what do you mean it’s due tomorrow?” looks?

The thing is: I have loads of ideas. It’s just that about 90 percent of them aren’t really working. At least not right now. That’s how it goes with being creative. You throw a whole bunch of ingredients into the air and see what lands in the soup pot. And even when you cook it up, it may taste lousy, so you need to find a bunch more stuff to add: sweet, sour, vanilla, chocolate, or whatever else will add the right flavor.

My soup lately: pretty bland. Grrrr.

But.

The most important answer to the question, “What are you writing?” is this one–and it works for published authors (like me, even when stuck) or kid authors (like you):

I’M WRITING. AND THAT’S WHAT MATTERS.

You may be writing lots and not even realize it’s all adding up. For example, I’m not doing any new series right now, but I did have the great luck to write an online story for the American Girl 2010 girl of the year, Lanie. ‘Twasn’t traditional fiction; more like e-mails and chat and letters. But that’s right up my alley. Check it out if you like. 

Right now, I’m writing every day: a few new series proposals, a middle grade novel I’m desperate to get done but have barely begun, and assorted other stuff. The life of working writers sometimes involves projects that aren’t all pretty in pink or loaded with bells and whistles or destined to land us on any bestseller list. But we must continue to write anyhoo. Case in point: a very good pal who always complained about having no money from writing kept at it for years and had numerous books published. But after all that time he was rewarded with a National Book Award nomination and just this year a Caldecott honor and Coretta Scott King award. I don’t know how much you know about awards, but those are like…the big, fat, WOW time. The most major you can get. I say he got that recognition because he stayed focused.

Yup, it’s hard to lead a creative life and write your way from day to day. It’s hard not to get distracted by hectic pace. But there can be surprises in store: awards, rewards, and most importantly–awesome readers. Or how about just the personal satisfaction you get just knowing that you showed up, you made something up, you just DID IT! I always tell kids when I teach workshops: keep a writing notebook (journal, scrapbook, scribble pad–whatever you call it). Just write.

And then, when I ask, “What are YOU writing?” you will answer plainly:

I’M WRITING. AND THAT’S WHAT MATTERS.

Feel free to drop me a note and tell me what it is you are writing. Inquiring minds wanna know. After all, we’re in this together, right? (Or should I say, write?)

p.s. By the way, I love your stories and poems. But oh gosh, please do not email me that 500 page novel about elephants with personality disorders or dwarf planets or your unflagging crush on Justin Bieber. My desk is pretty crowded right now. Thanks a bunch.

*gasps and whistles and a few detached groans*

I know it seemed like I would never resurrect this web site–or my communication with fans. Seriously, readers (and other bystanders): I owe you a big, fat, hairy apology.

Okay, leave out the hairy part.

But, I am sorry. SO sorry. For not writing back to fans, for not updating the old site sooner, for not getting hip to the blog life before now.

I could rattle off a zillion reasons why I failed. Here are the top 8:

1. My Nana had it right when she told me, “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” (Chomp, chomp.)
2. I had three kids in a row and slid into mommy land, leaving a lot of writer land behind.
3. I wasn’t paying attention and suddenly four years went by. Jeepers, some of my Madison Finn fans from way back are probably out of college by now.
4. Kids took up more time and energy than I expected.
5. Did I mention that I had kids?
6. I joined Facebook. Oy.
7. I am easily distracted by just about–Hey! Look! Squirrel!  (Yes, that is an UP reference.)
8. And the truth: my original “flash” web site was a lotta fun–but I could never quite figure out how to update it on my own and then the person who designed it for me up and moved away to become a musician and not a web site designer and then I just gave up when I should have tried harder. Boo hoo.

But let’s face it, we can all beat ourselves up for our mistakes. You know what I mean? End of story: I’m here to start over.

And so, without further ado, may I present this way less flashy but waaaay more informative web site. As the snow from our winter-from-hell begins to melt, I’m coming out of my own huge freeze. There’s a big thaw all around.

I like new, don’t you? Like a new pair of shoes or the smell of fresh paint. I’m embarking on new projects, new writing workshops, and new everything–and I plan to keep you all updated right here. Click around for all the information. And visit often!

Thanks to each of you who ever read/is planning to read/is reading one of my books. I owe you a very big virtual hug for stopping by and sticking by me. I promise I will do better. Drop me a note and tell me what you think–and what you’d like to see on my page.