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It was Maya Ganesan who asked me once (during a readergirlz chat) if I would ever consider writing fantasy—something within the supernatural vein.

I said, I don't know how.

It was hipwritermama who said, I bet you could.

I'd said that before—I don't know how. I'd said it about memoir, about young adult fiction, about poetry. I'd said it about corporate fable and novels for adults. I'd said it about being a mother. I But questions open doors. Would you ever consider...?

Lately, I have.

Inspired by a recent conversation I had with a certain someone from the world of film, inspired by Maya and bolstered by hipwritermama, I have just sent the first 77 pages of a supernatural mystery to my agent.

I think I'm onto something. I am hoping. It can be very difficult, as a writer, to keep your hopes alive. But I'm alive right now. Very much so.

Time, this rainy Sunday, to return my thoughts to corporate work.

I sometimes talk about Zenobia: The Curious Book of Business, the corporate fable I co-authored with Matt Emmens, who is now the CEO of Vertex and chairman of the board of Shire. I explain the book to those who ask as an Alice in Wonderland-esque fable about the power of the imagination in corporate America. The story features a character named Moira, who wears read shoes and fine, striped socks as she winds her way through a sclerotic bureaucracy in search of a way to make a difference. In the process, she inspires those she meets—a character named Hedger, for example, characters named Nod and Bolt and Snort—to help revitalize a corporate giant called Zenobia.

Published by Berrett-Koehler in 2008, the book has gone to live and breathe in many countries, sometimes adapting the original illustrations (which were created by my husband) and sometimes unveiling entirely new graphic universes. I thought of this book last week, during the readergirlz chat, when Hipwritermama and Maya Ganesan and others asked if I'd ever consider writing fantasy.

Zenobia is the closest I've yet come.

We readergirlz girlz tore up the keyboards last night talking everything from writerly schedules (thank you, Little Willow, for offering to make me breakfast); TV shows ("So You Think You Can Dance" rocks supreme); the joint appearance by Erin McIntosh and Melissa Walker in the newest six-word memoir book (oh, baby); certain showcase dance number videos that will never be aired (thank you, Mercy, for keeping our secret our secret); the emergence of Priya as a readergirlz street girl; favorite bands (yes, mine is still and will always be Bruce Springsteen); landscape as character (thank you, Nicole, for the question); favorite editors, past and present; how I stink at the samba (just ask Jean Paulovich); whether I will every write fantasy (thank you, Maya and Hipwriter Mama for your faith in my abilities); whether I've watched "Glee" (I'm so sorry, Lorie Anne); and why Flow: The Life and Times of Philadelphia's Schuylkill River was perhaps the most challenging and most rewarding book that I've yet published, though 2010 and beyond is filled with books and potential books that were probably even harder. All along Dia Calhoun and Holly Cupala were tossing out not just literary questions but riotously funny—and unexpected—images.

Which is all to say that if you haven't participated in a readergirlz chat, you really ought to. They happen twice or month or so. They will keep you at the edge of your fingertips.

There was hardly a soul in the restaurant last night by the time my husband and I made our way to it. The streets were thick with ice and the snow that had been falling all day long kept rising back up with the wind and snapping. I had my blackberry with me because I always do, because it is my one connection across hundreds of miles to my son; I want to be near if he wants to talk. And so there we were, and there was the blackberry, and there was cold outside and a certain emptiness in my heart—a sadness stemming from news encountered earlier in the day.

Toward the end of the meal (appetizers, only), that little red blackberry light went off, and I checked to see to whom it might belong. It was Little Willow, of all people, a forerunner blogger of forerunner bloggers, who was out there doing smart book talk in advance of most of the world.

Guess who has a book recommended in this month's issue of readergirlz? she wrote. You do! You do! The postergirlz picked UNDERCOVER as a recommended read, along with our main March pick, THE ADORATION OF JENNA FOX by Mary E. Pearson.

I try hard not to cry at things that are not life and death related, but no amount of resolve stopped my tears with this. Because who are those readergirlz? They are Lorie Ann Grover, dancer, writer, illustrator, thinker. They are Justina Chen Headley, former executive and now author of such supremely successful and lovely, intelligent books as NORTH OF BEAUTIFUL, her latest, which earned three starred reviews and is getting incredible responses across the blogosophere. They are Melissa Walker, and we all know Melissa—beloved author of the VIOLET series and fashionista, who reports on her Manhattan travels so that the rest of us can be voyeurs. They are Dia Calhoun, the acclaimed authoress, and Holly Cupala, whose first novel is due out in 2010. And in essential supporting roles there are those like Miss Little Willow herself, HipWriterMama (a blogger I admired for so long from afar, a writer, and interviewer extraordinaire), and the delightfully popular Miss Erin, rising actress and poet and friend (and daughter of sometimes actress, rising photographer, and always friend Sherry!).

They are, in other words, women I have long respected. Women who are out there making a difference with their voices and their opinions.

UNDERCOVER stands as a March pick among books that I'd be proud to be associated with on any day of any week: MEMOIRS OF A TEENAGE AMNESIAC, FRANKENSTEIN, GRACELING, NOT QUITE WHAT I WAS PLANNING: SIX-WORD MEMOIRS BY WRITERS FAMOUS AND OBSCURE, and WALDEN.

I don't know about you, but sometimes electronic hugs, as first delivered upon my heart by Anna Lefler, are not enough.

Still:

(((thank you)))

Yesterday I wrote about the float of a book—how the books I fall into and wish to write generate energy in the seams, in their criss cross and overlays.

Today I am myself floating on air, for Hip Writer Mama, of whom I wrote just a few days ago, has posted her interview with me on her popular blog site, which has been running terrific author interviews all week long as part of the 2008 Winter Blog Blast Tour.

http://hipwritermama.blogspot.com/2008/11/wbbt-through-eyes-of-beth-kephart-and.html

I'm not going to say more here, for I'd love for you to visit her today—Hip Writer Mama, who puts such time into her interviews and such care in the posting (obviously, I don't even know how she does what she does with all those fancy color-coded embeds, or I'd do a little of that myself). Later today (perhaps by 11 AM Philly time?) you will also be able to find me on the MySpaceHarper Teen site, where I'm writing about something that is important to all of us who care about our future: books, and how we vote for them by buying them.

http://www.myspace.com/harperteen

Enough having just been said, I think I'll go hop my train for the city and float some more.

Fourteen months ago, when I first went blogging, I knew nothing, I knew no one, I scratched about and made my way. I'd fall through the rabbit hole of GoodReads, for example, and trip up against some smart reviewers. I'd find a comment on one of my postings from, say, Miss Erin, and travel over toward her blog, only to encounter others about whom I would sigh to myself, Oh, wouldn't it be nice to know a little about them.

Hipwritermama was one such force. She seemed so smart. So, well, hip. She thought a lot about books—the ones she was writing, the ones she was reading. She took her time to say precisely what she thought and how she felt. When she disappeared at summer's end for a brief vacation she returned—refreshed, rejuvenated, ever thoughtful. I noticed this.

I dared, at last, to reach out to her. She took the time to come my own blog's way. She was generous, encouraging me on with a passage I was writing, or commenting on something I'd openly been struggling with.

http://hipwritermama.blogspot.com/

I learned, about her, that she lives where I once did. She helped me locate (for my memory was fuzzy) the pond where I taught myself to skate (a memory I borrowed for UNDERCOVER). We talked about cooking, about expectations, about raising children, and recently, hipwritermama, who is also known as Vivian, took the time—she really takes the time—to read my books and to ask me questions for the Winter Blog Blast Tour.

I'm not the only one on whom she has showered such attention. I stand in the privileged company of Melissa Walker, Mark Peter Hughes, and Wendy Mass. All of us together being featured among many other wonderful writers over the course of this coming week.

I'm looking forward to reading these interviews. I invite you to take a look at the full line up, which is posted on the fabulous Chasing Ray.

http://www.chasingray.com/archives/2008/11/2008_winter_blog_blast_tour_sc.html

Little by little, it happens. An image floats in, a voice makes itself heard, a story evolves and devolves and is thwarted and is found, and an agent says, Keep writing, then an editor steps in, and then questions are raised, and some brilliant someone designs a cover, and, finally (it seems impossible at times, it seems like it won't happen) a book gets made.

But none of it seems real to me until the galleys are in hand—advance readers copies. Today ARCS for Nothing but Ghosts were dropped (I heard the sound, I went running) onto my front porch. Ten of them. Two of which I mailed at once, one of which I drove to the local library, seven of which now sit nearby. Vivian (hipwritermama) said, "Take a photograph, Beth." She said, in other words, Take a moment. Celebrate.

Why am I always afraid to celebrate?

This time I won't be.

A glass of chianti at the ready.

I was on Bethany’s Blog this morning and came across a meme. Since I woke up around 4:00 a.m. this morning (couldn’t sleep), I decided to give it a whirl. So, here I am! Here’s the drill with the meme: Go back through your archives and post the links to five of your [...]

Title: I Saw an Ant in a Parking Lot

Written by: Joshua Prince

Illustrated by: Macky Pamintuan

Hardback: 24 pages
Ages: 4-8

Publisher: Sterling Publishing Co., Inc.

ISBN: 978-1-4027-3823-4

Publication: March 2007

On a hot August morning, Dot, armed with a doughnut and coffee, is ready for another day
at the parking lot.

“When in came rolling to my lot

a mom, two kids,

and tiny tot,

all safety-belted in a squat

red minivan, prepared to shop.”

When the mom doesn’t see the ant, and the ant doesn’t see the minivan, whatever will Dot
do to prevent a horrible accident?

The doughnut, of course! What ant can resist a tasty treat?

In a gallant throw, she hurls the doughnut towards the minivan and ant and prevents a disaster:

“The ant gave chase! The van did not!

Braking fast,

it came to stop

with screeching tires, squeals from tot,

just inches from ant’s breakfast spot.”

The playful singsong rhymes in this book make it a great read-aloud story. The full-page
illustrations are bright and colorful, and I find the blending of caricature and cartoon drawings to be a real delight. I look forward to another book by this duo.

***********************
Reviewed by the NWFCC’s Children’s Picture Book Reviewer, Amy Seim,/font>