new posts in all blogs
Viewing: Blog Posts Tagged with: reading and writing, Most Recent at Top [Help]
Results 1 - 25 of 28
How to use this Page
You are viewing the most recent posts tagged with the words: reading and writing in the JacketFlap blog reader. What is a tag? Think of a tag as a keyword or category label. Tags can both help you find posts on JacketFlap.com as well as provide an easy way for you to "remember" and classify posts for later recall. Try adding a tag yourself by clicking "Add a tag" below a post's header. Scroll down through the list of Recent Posts in the left column and click on a post title that sounds interesting. You can view all posts from a specific blog by clicking the Blog name in the right column, or you can click a 'More Posts from this Blog' link in any individual post.
.jpeg?picon=2450)
By:
Sherrie Petersen,
on 2/26/2015
Blog:
Write About Now
(
Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags:
indie author,
Wish You Weren't,
iTunes.,
novel,
publishing,
writing,
Amazon,
audiobook,
Audible,
middle grade novel,
indie publishing,
reading and writing,
writing and publishing,
Add a tag
I’m so excited to tell you that the audiobook of WISH YOU WEREN’T is live! I didn’t realize after approving the final version that it would take Audible nearly two weeks to listen to it to make sure the quality was up to par, but I’m glad they did. Because that ensures that anyone who […]
.jpg?picon=1806)
By:
Tess Berry-Hart,
on 1/15/2015
Blog:
An Awfully Big Blog Adventure
(
Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags:
reading therapy,
creativity,
bibliotherapy,
reading for pleasure,
reading list,
depression,
New Year Resolutions,
play,
encouragement,
Reading and Writing,
empathy,
Know Your Brain,
Add a tag
It's still winter! The bone-shaking chill of a new January with its winds, ice storms, broken healthy resolutions and humourless deadlines (tax payments, school applications, etc) can make even the bravest of us want to curl up in a cave next to a blazing fire and hibernate until spring arrives.
And to some of us who suffer from depression (episodes of persistent sadness or low mood, marked loss of interest and pleasure) either constant or intermittent, winter can be one of the hardest times. Depression being a multi-headed hydra ranging from many states of unipolar to bipolar, I'm not suggesting that there is one single type of depression; for instance not all of us are affected by the winter or weather, while some people who don't even have depression in the clinical sense might be experiencing a mild case of the winter blues, or Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).
Creativity is like a fire that we can stoke to drive away the cold winter (whether physical or psychological, internal or external). So I'm deep in my cave trying to work out ways that I can stoke my creativity without resorting to biscuits!
Bibliotherapy's been around for a while now, and is the literary prescription of books and poems against a range of "modern ailments" - including depression, anxiety, and low self-esteem. A form of guided self-help, it's not exactly a new idea - the ancient Greeks spoke of "catharsis" - the process of purification or cleansing, in which the observer of a work of theatre could purge themselves of emotions such as pity and fear through watching and identifying with the characters in a play. All of us in the modern world can attest to the feeling of connection and joy when an author so precisely describes a state that we are ourselves experiencing, and the nail-biting, cliff-hanging state of knowing exactly what our heroine or hero is going through. We root for him or her because s/he represents ourselves battling our own demons in an idealised meta-state.
But how does bibliotherapy work? According to the various proponents, it helps perpetuate a shift in thinking, so that things are not so inflexible (black and white thinking, for all you cognitive-behavioural depressives out there!) which is crucial to tackling depression. Being able to gain distance and perspective by viewing problems through the lens of fictional characters means that in real life our fixed thought-patterns which contribute to our problems can start to become unpicked.
And of course, identification isn't the only joy to be found in books; good old-fashioned escapism is surely the reason why many of us read so avidly. A new world, a new family, a new life, perhaps even new biology or physics, takes us away momentarily from the mundane world so we can return refreshed, hopefully to see our lives with new eyes.
I've obviously been self-medicating for a long time, but I always called it comfort-reading. By comfort-reading I mean a well-known book that you can plunge into at will like a warm bath or a pair of slippers. At school when I was anxious about exams or bullies I would find solace in re-reading the heroic adventures of Biggles or the magical quest of Lord of the Rings; at university it was in the dreamy memories of Brideshead and the vicissitudes of Billy Liar or Lucky Jim. When I started my first office jobs I would read 1984 or Brave New World (odd choices for comfort-reads but I think it was to remind myself that things could actually be worse!) but when I started writing my own books, I ...er ... stopped reading for some years. I think my tiny little brain could only take so much exercise!
I started comfort-reading again when we first had our children; during long and frequently painful breast-feeding sessions my husband would read my childhood favourites Charlotte's Web and Danny the Champion Of The World to me as distraction and encouragement. And these days my prospective comfort list numbers hundreds of books; for me, reading is re-reading.
So what could I take to bolster myself against the winter chill? I've written myself a prescription but I'd be interested in hearing yours!
1) A dose of James Herriot's short animal stories, to be administered when needed (they are nice and short so you're not left hanging after a few pages) or chapters from Jerome K Jerome's Three Men In A Boat, or virtually anything by PG Wodehouse;
2) A daily dose of half an hour "joy-writing" - half an hour in the morning when I can sit down and let ideas spill out onto the page. (If it ends up with me writing about what happened last night then so be it. It can often lead to something more ...)
3) A small creative project on the horizon, easily identifiable and manageable, that I can look forward to; in this case getting a small group of actors together to read through a new draft of a play that I've written (there'll be a blog post on this soon so stay tuned!)
4) Connection with others - I'm a member of a local book group, which not only makes me keep on top of what new books are coming out, but also participating in the joy of discussion; there's nothing more frustrating than reading a good book only to realise that nobody you know has read it!)
So I think that's enough to start barricading myself up against the January snows!
But what about you? What kind of comfort-reads do you enjoy to drive the cold winter away?
Children's books have spawned an excess of silliness in the media lately. First of all there was Ruth Graham's article on Slate, which told its readers, in no uncertain terms that:
"Adults should be ashamed of reading literature written for children".
Oh dear. That's me with my knuckles rapped, then.
The same day, the perennially anti-escapism Richard Dawkins weighed in with his opinions on fantasy and fairytales, saying
"I think it's rather pernicious to inculcate into a child a view of the world which includes supernaturalism".
Now I took issue with Professor Dawkins (aka 'The Frog') on this very subject back in 2008, with a piece called 'Long Live the Fairytale', and I still stand by the words I wrote.
To be honest, I'm just a bit fed up with having to get up and shout against this sort of thing, so I'm not going to go into a long and involved rant here. Luckily for me, there are many other people who can do that far better and more articulately -
Non Pratt (on reading YA) last week, and
Philip Pullman (on Fairytales) back in 2011 - to name just two.
From a personal point of view, I am what might be called an omnivorous reader. Last week it was Jennifer Worth's accounts of midwifery in 1950's London, before that Jung Chang's fascinating biography of the Dowager Empress Cixi, as well as some excellent UKYA by Tanya Landman and Claire McFall - one a historical novel about the American Civil War and the other an almost literally heart-stopping thriller. I read letters, I read diaries (because I'm damned nosy). I read literary novels, I read crap detective stories. I read erotica and travel, politics, the classics and deep, dusty tomes on mythology, ancient religions and shamanism, picture books, chapter books and middle-grade fiction. Even the backs of cereal packets if I'm really desperate (I recommend Rude Health ones).
I write all sorts of different stuff too - from very young picture books about grubby pirates and tree-snipping bears through retellings of old myth and folklore to novels about fairy folk, dragons and ancient queens.
The point I'm trying to make here is that I'm not ashamed of any of it. Not the reading, not the writing - and why the hell would anyone think they have the right to tell me I should be? I LIKE reading YA. It gives me a different sort of reading pleasure to, say, Austen or Tolstoy or Zadie Smith or Donna Tartt or Malcolm Gladwell - but I happen to think that's ok.
Same goes for the writing. I LIKE making weird and fantastical stories up for kids of all ages (including ones about fairies and gods). From the fan-mail I get, and the interactions I have with kids in the schools I visit, I think my readers appreciate it too. In my opinion, fairytales and fantasy feed the mind, they don't corrupt it, and I still don't think Mr Dawkins gives children enough credit for intelligence. What I said back in 2008 is as relevant to me today as it was then, so I'll leave you with this thought:
"A child’s mind is absolutely capable of containing many ‘once upon a times’ and evidential scientific formulae all at the same time—and what’s more, distinguishing entirely successfully between the two without any harmful effects whatsoever."
Stick that where the sun don't shine, Professor. Thanks all the same, but I'd rather listen to Einstein.
"A rollicking story and a quite gloriously disgusting book that children (especially boys) will adore!" Parents In Touch magazine
"A splendidly riotous romp…Miss the Captain’s party at your peril." Jill Bennett
"An early candidate for piratey book of the year!" ReadItDaddy blog
"A star of a book." Child-Led Chaos blog
"A splendid reminder of the wonder of the oldest of stories…should be in every home and classroom" The Bookseller
Lucy's brand-new and sparkly
Website
.jpeg?picon=2982)
By: Caroline Starr Rose,
on 4/6/2013
Blog:
Caroline by line
(
Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags:
Sharon Creech,
poetry,
middle-grade,
verse novel,
reading and writing,
novel-in-verse,
Love that Dog,
#sharpschu,
Mr. Sharp,
Add a tag
Click through to sign up for the National Poetry Month giveaway!
My junior year in college I took my favorite course of all time, adolescent literature. It was the year I discovered books from my adolescence I hadn't known existed before, books like HATCHET and JACOB HAVE I LOVED. It was the year I fell in love with newer titles, like THE TRUE CONFESSIONS OF CHARLOTTE DOYLE and LONG NIGHT DANCE. It was the year Sharon Creech won the Newbery for her gorgeous WALK TWO MOONS.
I continued to read Sharon's books over the years, the impossible-to-put down ABSOLUTELY NORMAL CHAOS, the feels-like-home-to-this-gal-who-attended-international-school BLOOMABILITY, the simple and stunning verse novel, HEARTBEAT, and this gem, LOVE THAT DOG.
The poem below
I started a few years ago after first reading DOG. Last year, after a second reading, I pulled it out and worked on it again.
With the #SharpSchu book club scheduled to discuss LOVE THAT DOG and MAY B. on April 24, this felt like the perfect time to share.
Thank you, Sharon, for writing words that pushed me to respond. The kindness of the children's literature community never ceases to touch me. Still pinching myself that the author I discovered in college knows who I am!
Words count.
All words,
and giving voice to those children
who don’t yet know their power
is to open the world.
Mrs. Stretchberry
knows how to woo her student Jack,
understands how to draw from him
phrases that play with shapes and sounds,
stanzas that speak to the pain
of loss
and love
and memory.
During a school year
where poetry is a regular part of things,
words work deep,
settle,
unfold,
grow
as Jack does
from a boy who thinks
writing poetry is to
“make
short
lines”
to one who finds the courage --
through the structure, voice,
and style of others --
to speak his own.
Miss the introductory or discussion posts for Volume I? Need the reading schedule for the entire read along? Click through!
Volume II cover years 1910-1921 and picks up with
thirty-five year-old Maud still living in her childhood home caring for her grandmother, as she had for over a decade. Though she was a best selling author, life was very much the same (ANNE OF GREEN GABLES, published in 1908, had already gone into numerous print runs and brought her $7,000 in royalties early in 1910 -- "an enormous figure in a province where the average yearly income for a working woman was less than $300").
Major change was ahead: her grandmother's death (March 1911); marriage to Ewan MacDonald, who had been engaged to Maud since 1906 (July 1911); a European honeymoon; a move to Leaksdale, Ontario, where she set up her first home and stepped into the role of minister's wife; and the birth of her two boys (1912 and 1915 -- Maud lost another son to stillbirth in 1914).
The journal also covers Maud's agony over the first World War, a whirlwind trip to Boston to meet her crafty and not always above board editor with the L. C. Page Company, the discovery of her husband's mental illness, and the further facing of her own.
More and more, her journal became a place of escape, "a secret release for her thoughts," a rich resource for writing material, a source of companionship, "a rich record of motherhood," and an honest glimpse into "the life of a working writer."
I picked up Volume II a few weeks ago and am happily settled back in with Maud. For those of you reading,
I look forward to hearing what you've taken from your readings when we meet for our discussion post on April 29. If you're finding yourself behind schedule, it's no big deal. Read in a way you can enjoy, and if you feel so inclined, come back at a later date to read posts you've missed.
For those of you not reading, it has been wonderful to hear your enthusiasm for and interest in these posts in person, via email, and in comments. I'm glad you're able to get a sense of Maud's life through what's being shared here.
Remember, throughout the month I post quotess on
Twitter (#lmmjournals) and on my
May B. Facebook page. Happy reading, and please spread the word!
The work for which we are fitted -- which we are sent into this world to do -- what a blessing it is and what fulness of joy it holds!
-- Lucy Maud Montgomery, May 23, 1910
3/21/1901
I have written two poems this week. A year ago I could not have written them, but now they came easily and naturally. This encourages me. Perhaps in the future I can achieve something worth while. I never expect to be famous--I don't want to be, really, often as I've dreamed of it. But I do want to have a recognized place among good workers in my chosen profession. That, I honestly believe, is happiness and harder to win the sweeter and more lasting when won.
I really think that I possess the saving grace of perseverance. What failures and discouragements I used to meet at first when, in my teens, I sent out my wretched little manuscripts--for they were wretched, although I thought them quite fine--with an audacity I wonder at now. I cannot remember the time when I did not mean to be a writer 'when I grew up'. I has always been my central purpose around which every hope and effort and ambition of my life has grouped itself.
...The moment we see our first darling brain child arrayed in black type is never to be forgotten. It must have in it, I think, some of the wonderful awe and delight that comes to a mother when she looks for the first time on the face of her first born.
8/16/1907
It [ANNE OF GREEN GABLES] was a labor of love. Nothing I have ever written gave me so much pleasure to write. I cast “moral” and “Sunday School” ideals to the winds and made my “Anne” a real human girl... . There is plenty of incident in it but after all it must stand or fall by “Anne”. She is the book.
... I wrote it for love, not money -- but very often such books are the most successful...
10/15/1908
It seems that Anne is a big success. It is a “best seller” and is in its fifth edition -- I cannot realize this. My strongest feeling seems to be incredulity. I can’t believe that such a simple little tale, written in and of a simple P.E.I. farming settlement, with a juvenile audience in view, can really have scored out in the busy world. I have had so many nice letter about it -- and no end of reviews. Most of them were very flattering. Three or four had a rather contemptuous tone and three were really nasty.
One of the reviews says “the book radiates happiness and optimism.” When I think of the conditions of worry and gloom and care under which it was written I wonder at this. Thank God, I can keep the shadows of my life out of my work. I would not wish to darken any other life -- I want instead to be a messenger of optimism and sunshine.
Among the happiest readers may be those who follow the advice: “Go lose yourself in a book.” I suspect the same can be said for writers.
This winter I lost myself in the writing of yet another book and was reminded of how magical a space that is to inhabit. Those people lucky enough to write books know what I mean. Those who read great books should imagine their own consumption pleasures magnified as if they have traveled through the looking glass.
These days I write from the luxury of solitude. In earlier years I juggled the responsibilities of marriage and growing children when I wrote. Nothing could be harder, as I am reminded when I observe the writing lives of younger friends. Somehow we do it, just as somehow we smile our ways through days of thin sleep after the arrival of babies, feeling like the luckiest, if not the most-rested, parents on earth.
Now, though, there are no alarm clocks or car pools or meal schedules in my life. Time is measured in deadlines, goals for the day, hunger pangs, and diversions for exercise and other fun. After I’ve converted my research into ready-reference note cards and aids—from time lines to diagrams to maps to photographs—I am ready to lose myself in the creation of a book.
I go through rituals before I start this writing journey. I pay all my bills in advance. I plan what I will cook, and I stock my fridge. I get extra sleep. I touch base with my closest friends; they know I am about to become scarce, and, as a testament to their friendships, they understand and forgive me when I stop corresponding and disappear. Ditto for family members; we keep in touch, but the World of the Book becomes part of their world, too, and when we interact they share in my investment in the process. Lastly, I choose what books I will read at bedtime, something complimentary (perhaps from the same era) or something familiar. I have been known to re-read Jane Austin (“Not again!” say my sons) or Harry Potter—anything that is relaxing without being diverting. I want to keep my thoughts in the World.
Then the work begins.
Let me be clear: All is not picnics and roses. This is work.Mind-draining, body-aching, spirit-straining work. For me, anyway, the book takes over my head and my life. I’m a morning person, so work starts early. Sometimes I wake up inspired and go straight to the computer in my robe and pajamas. I may stay that way for hours, snacking on hasty meals and brushing my teeth at out-of-routine moments. I measure my progress by how many inches of note cards I have consumed, marking my place with a vertical manila card bearing the hand-lettered text “HERE.” Chapter one, chapter two, and so on.
After a week or two of solid writing, I begin to dream in paragraphs. I don’t mean that I dream nice organized dreams. I mean that I see blocks of text in my dreams. It is not peaceful sleep. Occasionally, for variety, I dream about the historical figures in my work. Sometimes I don’t sleep at all, wheels spinning as I work my way around a writing corner, measure my progress against the parallel clocks for goals and deadlines, and try to reinforce my commitment to the bone-wearying process with reminders of treats that await at the end of the work. Renewed visits with friends. The chance to plant a garden. Maybe a trip. Getting paid! Carrots and sticks. You get the idea.
The easiest way to keep going, I find, is to think incrementally. I know my destination (the conclusion), and I have a pretty good idea of how I want to get there (because of my note cards and research), but it is easiest to march along one chapter at a time, one paragraph at a time, one scene at a time, as it were. Suddenly I’ve advanced another few inches through my note cards. Suddenly another chapter is roughed out enough so that I can proceed to the next one.
And so it goes until my head is in the World 24-7, even when I am away from my desk. When I go out for walks, I almost see the history. A dog, a car, someone’s gesture all are evaluated automatically through the lens of the work. When that happens, I know I have lost myself in the book. After slipping into that groove, I hang on for the dash to the conclusion. As grateful as I am to reach the end, its attainment feels bittersweet, akin to the reader’s experience of finishing a great book—you hunger for more.
Fortunately, for writers, there is more. Revision!
And so I stay in the World even longer, testing my early work to see how well it holds weight, strengthening it with rounds of rewriting, pursuing additional research lines, if needed, and polishing, polishing, polishing the language.
When I finally step away with a finished manuscript, I do so with a mixture of relief, gratitude, and regret. My connection to the book will never be so strong or personal again. The end of the writing process is like the end of a living thing, and I can see how such loss might hit some writers particularly hard. For me, anyway, the regrets fade quickly. There are those rewards, after all, including picking up again where I left off with friends and family and fun.
As often as we write about writing, I remain fascinated by the subject and about how others experience this process. Perhaps you may want to chime in. Readers, writers: What happens when you lose yourself in a book?
If you missed the first part of the discussion, be sure to click through here.
The Two Selves:
From early on, Maud wrote of feeling like an outsider at school and at home. She was raised by her grandparents, who having already raised their children, were not interested in indulging a spirited, curious, social child. At school, where she was often at the top of her class, she felt separate from her classmates intellectually. Though loved by her grandparents and extended family, they found her book love and imagination both strange and obsessive. As a result, Maud learned to keep her true nature largely to herself. There are certainly parallels between her life and her characters, Anne and Emily, to be sure.
I have grown years older in this past month. Grief and worry and heartbreak have done their work thoroughly. Sometimes I ask myself if the pale, sad-eyed woman I see in my glass can really be the merry girl of olden days or if she be some altogether new creature, born of sorrow and baptized of suffering, who is the sister and companion of regret and hopeless longing.
Before taking her third school (1897-1898), Maud became engaged to Edwin Simpson, a decision she immediately regretted that threw her into months of turmoil. At the same time she started a secret relationship with her landlord’s son, Herman Leard. This portion of her life was a turning point, where her two selves became -- and continued -- to be more separate than they ever had been before.
The pressure she felt, both real and (possibly) imagined, to keep a calm external life continued to dog her for the rest of her life. In the years she cared for her grandmother, she was often lonely, stifled by the old woman’s set habits (which included heating only the kitchen through terrible winters), and overwhelmed by depression that often abated in warmer months but could attack at any time without any warning.
It was difficult for me to read of her depression this time through, knowing things would only become darker. As she corresponded with her fiancee and future husband, Ewan MacDonald, she was distressed to read of his own mental and emotional anguish, something that played a huge role in their future marriage and his future calling as a minister.
The Journal:
Maud often described her journal as a place to record and make sense of things (a place to “write it out”) and a “grumble book” -- somewhere she could honestly, privately share her frustrations and woe. As an occasional journaler, I can relate to both of these and often wonder, as Maud sometimes expressed, of the skewed picture such a journal paints. How much of the true person can be known when a journal is used this way?
As readers will discover in future volumes, Maud made considerable effort to re-copy and organize older entries, transferring all volumes into the same standard blank books she was to keep for the rest of her life. While there is the possibility cuts were made in the process, she let the honest, the unflattering, the heartbreaking, the sometimes unkind entries stand. She allowed, I think, as much honestly into her records as a person can bring.
Things to consider as we continue reading volumes II-V:
- At what point did Maud decide she was writing for an audience and not just herself?
- Did she knowingly edit as she wrote, softening or omitting things?
- How much honesty and transparency is a person capable of in recording a life?
- In regard to her depression: do you think there were ways she could have asked for help with those she trusted or was the taboo of mental illness too strong?
- Would her books have changed if her life were different?
By: Caroline Starr Rose,
on 2/25/2013
Blog:
Caroline by line
(
Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags:
the writing life,
authors,
journals,
recommended reading,
Anne of Green Gables,
Lucy Maud Montgomery,
reading and writing,
Anne of Avonlea,
The Story Girl,
LMM Journals Read Along,
Kilmeny of the Orchard,
Add a tag
An Overview:
This first volume of Maud’s journals covers her life from ages fourteen through thirty-five. She starts as a school girl (not above school yard spats and secret indulgences in novels during lesson time); studies at Prince of Wales College and Dalhousie University; teaches three years in different communities in Prince Edward Island, works one year as a copyeditor at a Nova Scotia newspaper; experiences six* proposals, two engagements, and one secret love affair; and spends more than a decade as her grandmother’s companion and caretaker, all the while reading, writing, and dreaming of the literary life.
There are countless directions I could take this post, but for the sake of true discussion, I wanted to comment on a few things that struck me and raise questions to those of you who have also read. You’ll see I’ve had so much to say I’ve decided to run a second discussion post on Wednesday and a more quotes I found interesting on Friday. I invite readers to take us anywhere you’d like in the comments below.
The Literary Life:
All my life is has been my aim to write a book -- a “real live” book... Well, I’ve written my book. The dream dreamed years ago in that old brown desk in school has come true at last after years of toil and struggle. And the realization is sweet -- almost as sweet as the dream!
Maud’s first novel, ANNE OF GREEN GABLES, sold to L.C. Page and Co., the fifth publishing house she submitted to. While on the surface, this looks like an easy thing, she had been tirelessly writing, submitting, and selling short stories and poems for over fifteen years. Writing had become a daily part of her life, as had a faithful study of the magazine market.
Blessings be on the inventors of the alphabet, pen and printing press! Life would be -- to me in all events -- a terrible thing without books.
As well as writing, Maud read broadly and deeply. She often re-read childhood favorites, studying to see if they held up as the years passed but also refusing to let popular opinion sway her preferences. She compared author’s newer works to their older titles, pursued the bestsellers and the classics, and collected phrases that spoke to her (reminding me of my commonplace book).
After selling ANNE in 1907, she quickly went on to sell the sequel, ANNE OF AVONLEA, KILMENY OF THE ORCHARD (a story re-worked story that had previously run as a magazine serial), and THE STORY GIRL (her personal favorite).
The road of literature is at first a very slow one...and I mean to work patiently on until I win -- as I believe I shall, sooner or later -- recognition and success.
Wednesday's discussion will focus on the two lives Maud often felt she lived and the process of recording a life through journaling.
*Have I forgotten someone or accidentally added someone else in? Mr. Mustard, Lem, Lou, Edwin, Ewan, Oliver.
As I've been reading Volume I of Lucy Maud Montgomery's journals, I've been underlining quotes that I've found especially interesting, insightful, and fun. I've been sharing them on Facebook and Twitter but realized readers here might like to read them, too. Here's a glimpse into Maud's thoughts from ages fourteen to twenty. Be sure to return Monday, 25 February to discuss Volume I!
12/2/1889
Miss Gordon looked rather blank. I think she had been expecting to hear that Nate and I broke all the ten commandments all at once every day.
3/4/1890
I thought Jack was killed but when he picked himself up with a real live “cuss word” I concluded he wasn’t. But his face was all spattered with soot and he did look so funny.
10/20/1890
(Very Anne-ish): Today I got a letter from home with some pressed flowers in it. It just seemed as if they spoke to me and whispered a lovely message of a far-off land where blue skies are bending over maple-crimsoned hills and spruce glens are still green and dim in their balsamic recesses.
6/6/1891
Mustard a minister!! Oh Lordy--how it will sound--Rev. Mr. Mustard.
10/4/1891
I must have some duck in my composition for I always love to be out in a rainstorm.
9/1/1892
Grandpa stayed home to look after us all. He told the boys that they could fight the whole evening, if they wanted to. ...Well and Dave were black and blue for a week but they had had the time of their lives. I’m sure they wished Grace Macneill could have got married nightly.
1/12/1983
Books are a delightful world in themselves. Their characters seem as real to me as my friends of actual life.
9/28/1983
Oh, I wonder if I shall ever be able to do anything worth while in the way of writing. It is my dearest ambition.
9/6/1984
I may be teaching my pupils something but they are teaching me more -- whole tomes of wisdom.
9/18/1894
It is a regular fall rain now -- a night wild enough to suit any novelist in search of suitable weather for a murder or elopement.
12/15/1894
Well, my goodness! -- or somebody else’s goodness if mine isn’t substantial enough!
By: Caroline Starr Rose,
on 2/1/2013
Blog:
Caroline by line
(
Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags:
Canada,
the writing life,
journals,
Anne of Green Gables,
Lucy Maud Montgomery,
reading and writing,
Emily of New Moon,
Prince Edward Island,
LMM Journals Read Along,
Add a tag
Want to know more about the Read Along? Click through for the
introductory post and
reading schedule.
THE SELECTED JOURNALS OF LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY, VOLUME I (1889-1910)
It is will great excitement I welcome you to the LMM Journals Read Along! Picking up this first book has, in many ways, felt like coming home. If you are an Anne fan, you will be delighted to see phrases and circumstances that feel very Anne-ish. If you're an Emily fan, you'll see parallels between Maud's upbringing and Emily's.
Here you'll find school girl spats, small-town social events, a year with her beloved father (and ill-humored stepmother), a proposal from her former teacher (!), many, many heart-broken suitors, teaching, writing, an engagement, loneliness, the sale of ANNE.
Lucy Maud Montgomery was born November 30, 1874 in Clifton (now New London), Prince Edward Island, Canada. "Thirty-four years later, in 1908, her first novel, ANNE OF GREEN GABLES, put Prince Edward Island on the literary map of the world. When she died in 1942 Montgomery had published over twenty books, hundreds of short stories and poems, and her name was known far beyond the English-speaking world."
Before her second birthday, Maud, as she liked to be called, lost her mother. Her father quickly left for the mainland, remarrying and leaving Maud to be raised by her mother's parents. She began journaling as "a tot of nine" but destroyed those early copies. "Surviving are ten handwritten volumes that were begun when she was fourteen and date from 1889 to 1942." This first volume includes the first two of those ten journals, covering her PEI years "from ages 14 to 36" (including a year with her father in Prince Albert, Saskatchewan).
Without siblings, raised by older relatives, and intellectually ahead of her class, Maud often felt isolated and different from those around her. She "viewed her journals as a 'personal confidant in whom I can repose absolute trust'."
"Because the journals are so full and frank and cover such a long period, and because they are the work of a successful professional writer, they provide a degree of information, anecdote, and personal history that makes them unique in Canadian letters. The interest attached to the autobiographical content is obvious. What may not appear so obvious in this first volume is that the complete journals of L. M. Montgomery provide a fund of engrossing social history covering more than half a century and draw the reader surprisingly far into the depths of one woman's life."*
As I read, I'll share favorite quotes on Twitter, using the hashtag #lmmjournals. Make notes as you read or just enjoy. And please consider returning
Monday, 25 February to join the discussion of Volume I.
Be sure to keep a second bookmark at the notes section at the back of the book. Extra details are given here.
Happy reading!
*All quotes taken from the introduction of the first volume
This summer, part of my job was helping some 4thand 5th graders hone their skills at writing persuasive essays. This essay form is often seen on standardized tests and is the style kids tend to hate the most. The format must be strictly followed and the rules can be intimidating. There must be five full paragraphs: Introduction, Reason 1, Reason 2, Reason 3, and Conclusion. Yes, each essay must state three reasons and you have to write a full paragraph elaborating on each reason.
Boy, kids really hate this. Can’t you hear the whining now about how they can only think of two reasons? Even though the essays are usually about “kid friendly” topics, they’re not the kind of subjects kinds enjoy pondering, especially when faced with the pressure of writing five paragraphs in 30 or 40 minutes. Honestly their feelings about whether there should be vending machines in school or all students should wear uniforms is usually rather limited and their fear about if they will have enough to write seemingly never ending.
So instead of rote practicing, I used non fiction books to get them thinking. After we talked about the life experiences of a certain bird in New York City, my students had a much better understanding of perspective and point of view. And once we put those things together, their essays really started to flow.
I chose I.N.K. books about a bird named Pale Male, a hawk who chose to build a nest on a swank 5th Avenue Apartment building near Central Park in NYC. This was fascinating to city bird watchers because Hawks were rare in the area but it became a full blown news story when the ritzy apartment building removed the hawk’s nest because of the resulting mess in front of the building and the constant peeking eyes of the bird watchers with large telescopes in Central Park.
There are at least three good non fiction children’s books that I know of about Pale Male. The story and illustrations are a great way to introduce the concept of perspective. The hawks fly high above Central Park and the buildings, giving them a perspective to search for their prey, see the natural beauty of the city, and keep away from the crowds. In the trees or lower on the ground, they can be vulnerable to large groups of crows or people touching their nests. These books also open up a conversation about perspective’s cousin, point of view: what did the hawks want and need, how did the bird watchers want to help them, and how was this the same or different from how the people living in the apartment building thought about birds nesting there?
I ‘ve also found it effective to read two of these books and compare and contrast. What points of the story did each writer focus on? What were some details that were included by one writer but left out by the other? Are there any facts that were absolutely necessary in order to tell the story?
These discussions translated easily and naturally to the persuasive essay form. The kids began to understand that students will often see an issue differently than a teacher or parent or the Principal based on their point of view. They could expand their reasoning when seen from another point of view and based on whom they were trying to convince. Is the letter to a friend or relative? Lets talk about how you could have fun and do things together. If the letter is to the Principal, you can focus on reasons such as safety, health, learning, and community.
From my perspective, using non fiction is tremendously effective in helping kids expand their own way of seeing things and how others see things. This enables them to feel much more confident about their reasoning and, ultimately, helps them express that more naturally in their writing.
Planning to join the LMM Journal Read Along? Here's what you need to do:
Find the books
Try your public library, or order through your local indie, Amazon, or Barnes and Noble. Now that they're available in paperback, they're more affordable and easier to track down.
Save the dates
Volume I:
introductory post - Friday, February 1
discussion - Monday, February 25
Volume II:
introductory post - Monday, April 1
discussion - Monday, April 29
Volume III:
introductory post - Monday, June 3
discussion - Friday, June 28
Volume IV:
introductory post - Friday, August 2
discussion - Friday, August 30
Volume V:
introductory post - Wednesday, 2 September
discussion - Wednesday, 30 September
Read to share
Jot down anything that sparks your interest and join the discussion! And please spread the word. Twitter hashtag #lmmjournals
By: Caroline Starr Rose,
on 12/17/2012
Blog:
Caroline by line
(
Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags:
what I am reading,
GONE GIRL,
creativity,
voice,
craft,
recommended reading,
Donald Maass,
reading and writing,
Cheryl Klein,
reading update,
Add a tag
One of the things I think has made Gillian Flynn's GONE GIRL so successful is voice.
Voice is always one of those tricky things. Scholastic editor
Cheryl Klein defines it "by using the formula VOICE = PERSON + TENSE + PROSODY + (Diction + Syntax + Tone + Imagination + Details). Defining the imagination of Voice, Cheryl says, '[t]he imagination of a voice sets the range of subjects, images, diction, kinds of and examples of figurative language, and references that the voice can include.'”
Agent and author
Donald Maass says voice is "the thing...every novelist already has... . It may be comic, deadpan, dry, pulpy, shrill, objective, distant, intimate, arty or a thousand other things. It comes through in the story that an author chooses to tell and the way in which they choose to tell it."
Here are some quotes I highlighted while reading GONE GIRL. You'll notice they're not big statements on the plot (except for the last one, which sums up the entire story in all its twisted wonder), but tiny observations -- metaphors used to paint a picture of characters, of setting, small things that were fresh and interesting and right. In other words, great examples of voice.
characterization and metaphor:
"They have no hard edges with each other, no spiny conflicts, they ride through life like conjoined jellyfish -- expanding and contracting instinctively, filling each other's spaces liquidly. Making it look easy, the soul-mate thing." (p 27)
setting and metaphor:
"It was the best time of day, the July sky cloudless, the slowly setting sun a spotlight on the east, turning everything golden and lush, a Flemish painting." (p 31)
characterization:
"His shirt wasn't wrinkled, but he wore it like it was; he looked like he should stink of cigarettes and sour coffee, even though he didn't. He smelled like Dial soap." (p 33)
characterization and metaphor:
"He spoke in a soft, soothing voice, a voice wearing a cardigan." (p 199)
and the quote that sums up the entire crazy ride:
"Our kind of love can go into remission, but it's always waiting to return. Like the world's sweetest cancer." (p 392)
Have you read GONE GIRL? What were your impressions? Any other authors or books that get voice just right?
By: Caroline Starr Rose,
on 10/26/2012
Blog:
Caroline by line
(
Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags:
reading and writing,
life choices,
commonplace book,
unkeep,
perspectives on reading,
what I am reading,
intentional living,
writing advice,
the writing life,
authors,
writing,
inspiration,
quotes,
me,
style,
Add a tag
For those of us living the writing life, whether we realize it or not, we are constantly learning as we read. Often I'll find myself engrossed in a book where the author's voice becomes so familiar I swear I'll never forget its rhythms and style. And while I sometimes can hold onto a general sense of these things, I'm finding I need to be more intentional with my reading if I want these impressions to last.
This year I've started using my
commonplace book as a place to record quotes that have struck me as important. Sometimes it's a fresh simile, other times just a sentence to remember the atmosphere an author has so wonderfully invoked. I've recorded the last few pages of novels, those key moments when everything comes together. I've written down scenes when the protagonist reaches the end of his or her self and must become something new.
It's in looking for and taking note of things that I'm learning to grow as a writer.
Here are a few similes and metaphors I've collected these last few months:
"Alice's stomach was rumbling like an empty garbage can rolling down a hill..." PIE, Sarah Weeks
"I try to stuff myself between the seats, like coins." EMILY'S DRESS AND OTHER MISSING THINGS, Kathryn Burak
"Majid had a family network as complex and secretive as a walnut shell." THE RUINS OF US, Keija Parssinen
"Her voice sounds as hollow as the empty wasp's nests." CROSSED, Ally Condie
"The day is collapsing into dusk. The Gypsies in their white shirts are the only lamps. The moon is coming in like a pan on fire." SMALL DAMAGES, Beth Kephart
And some darn
beautiful truths:
"I lay my hand on my heart. Our parents teach us the very first things we learn. They teach us about hearts. What if I could be treated as though I were small again? What if I were mothered all over again? Might I get my heart back?
My heart is unfolding." CHIME, Franny Billingsley
"That taste is still in my mouth. I know what it is. It's the taste of pretending. It's the taste of lying. It's the taste of a game that is over." LIAR AND SPY, Rebecca Stead
"In spring, Amherst changes into a storybook. The students grow wings from their heels and run through town spinning and singing. You get the idea that some parts of life are pure happiness, as least for a while. The toy store in the center of town puts all its kites outside, on display, so that the tails and whirligigs can illustrate the wind." EMILY'S DRESS AND OTHER MISSING THINGS, Kathryn Burak
What helps you process what you learn as you read?
OR: What I did over my summer vacation.
I was asked to teach a Reading and Writing class for students in grades 3-7. This was at a summer academy renowned for it’s college test prep for high school kids. They wanted to start a junior version of their program for upper elementary and middle school kids; in other words, grab them early. As my only teaching material I was given a typical workbook with vocabulary lists and lots of crossword puzzles and word searches to supposedly make the rote memorization of words removed from all meaningful context fun, fun, fun.
Luckily I realized that no one was actually checking up on me and, thus, I could probably devise my own syllabus. I set to work, and quite a lot of work it was, to plan on using one nonfiction book for each day of class for eight weeks. Using the workbook would have been a lot easier but I just couldn’t make myself do it. So I worked quite hard to come up with an interesting group of books and worthwhile lesson plans built around each one. I certainly did not make a salary commensurate with the amount of time and effort I put in. But I did have a sense of satisfaction that I had saved these kids from a meaningless summer. At the end of the eight weeks, my tired and burnt out self believed we had all learned quite a lot from my classes.
As an example of what I did, I want to talk about one of my favorite non fiction picture books: My Grandfather’s Journey by Allen Say. Even though this book won a Caldecott Medal for its illustrations, it’s the power of its few, well-chosen words that gets me every time.
The vocabulary is richer than one might think at first glance. I could easily come up with a vocab list that was appropriate and meaningful to ten year olds. Examples from the text: astonished, enormous, marveled, scattered, longing. We talked about enormous for a while. Was the feeling the writer evoked much different than if he had just used the word big? We all agreed the difference was itself enormous. We also considered the author’s somewhat unusual descriptions like “the lonely seacoast.” “How can a seacoast be lonely?” I asked. There were many interesting answers to that as well.
This non fiction picture book also has a plethora of themes for many more avenues of discussion: immigration, discrimination, family relationships, types of transportation and clothing, World War II, internment camps, etc. In terms of writing, we talked about writing in the first person. Some readers figure it out from the beginning, but for those who don’t it’s a joyful surprise when they understand the relationship between the writer and the story.
When I have tutored kids at previous times using this book, I have paired it with Susan Kuklin’s How My Family Lives in America.
This book presents three kids from three different cultures describing their everyday first or second generation family life on a daily basis. I ask the students to write about their personal family life in America, specifically focusing on how they feel the mix or pull of two different cultures. It’s a theme from Say’s book that has resonated with every single kid so far.
When one of the student’s parents complained to the director that the books I was reading with the kids were “too easy” I didn’t worry too much because I knew she was wrong. Some of the kids asked to read “thick books” because that’s what they were used to and identified as being at a higher level. But I stuck with my thin non fiction picture books and kept pointing out the nuances that made them more complex than they appeared by the size of their pages. In the end, I think they proved to be lean, mean excellent learning tool machines.
There are some lovely conversations unfolding in the blogosphere. Please join in!
Perseverence
This is TERRIBLE! :: Picture This
The Book of My Heart :: Beth Revis
On Goals and Starting Over :: Beth Revis
Courage to Write Outside Your Culture
A Prayer to the Silent :: CBC Diversity
The Joy of Reading
Passing on the Magic :: Nerdy Book Club
The Equation for Nerdy Book Club World Domination :: Nerdy Book Club
Middle Grade
What Sells Middle Grade Books? :: Shrinking Violets
In a New York Times essay on March 29, Joel Stein wrote:
The only thing more embarrassing than catching a guy on the plane looking at pornography on his computer is seeing a guy on the plane reading “The Hunger Games.” Or a Twilight book. Or Harry Potter...
I have no idea what “The Hunger Games” is like. Maybe there are complicated shades of good and evil in each character. Maybe there are Pynchonesque turns of phrase. Maybe it delves into issues of identity, self-justification and anomie that would make David Foster Wallace proud. I don’t know because it’s a book for kids. I’ll read “The Hunger Games” when I finish the previous 3,000 years of fiction written for adults.
Let’s have the decency to let tween girls have their own little world of vampires and child wizards and games you play when hungry. Let’s not pump Justin Bieber in our Saabs and get engaged at Cinderella’s Castle at Disneyland. Because it’s embarrassing.
To which Maggie Stiefvater tweeted:
I realize the guy's a satirist, but really? Maybe because he wrote a book for adults that's coming out soon, he wants to make sure there are adults around who are interested in reading it.
Based on his essay, he can count me out.
You might remember earlier in the month I posted about my March goals: four poems a day five days a week on my new historical verse novel. Here are my stats so far:
day 1: 4 poems
day 2: 4 poems
day 3: 4 poems
day 4: 2.5 poems
day 5: 2 poems
day 6: 4 poems
day 7: 3.5 poems
day 8: read through and notes
day 9: research
day 10: research
day 11: research
total: 48 poems overall
My day 8 read through showed me I couldn't move forward until I did some more research. So I've set writing aside in order to better ground myself in some historical specifics. I'll be honest: this has really frustrated me. I've felt like I'm shirking a goal. But as the all-wise Valerie Geary has reminded me, any work toward the draft is moving forward, even if there's nothing immediately added to the manuscript.
Here's to reading, thinking, and transforming facts into story.
Have your writing goals ever changed in order to benefit your story?
By:
Ruth Symes,
on 12/12/2011
Blog:
An Awfully Big Blog Adventure
(
Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags:
travelling,
a writer's life,
Notebooks,
writing for adults,
Reading and Writing,
the business of writing,
Ruth Symes,
Megan Rix,
biography and memoir,
Add a tag
ByRuth Symes / Megan Rix
Thereare so many lovely gifts for writers out there, from extremely cheap tolavishly expensive. We must be the easiest people to buy for! Here’s my top 12 Christmaslist:
1.Journals and notebooks and paper: You can never have too many or too much, in myopinion, (recycled paper best if poss). A4 books for getting down to someserious writing. Smaller notebooks for stuffing in a handbag or pocket, alongwith a pen, for when inspiration strikes!
When walking on the beach this spring I even found a waterproof notebook that you could use in the rain or in the bath.
2.Yearly Planner Wall-chart: I love being able to put a daily sticker(occasionally two) on my yearly wall-chart to mark off each 1000 words written.The best part is coming to the end year of the year and having a wall-chartcovered in them - very satisfying.
We know most everyone is hustling and bustling, getting ready for the holidays, but work, alas, continues. Or does it? Who is still writing during the holidays, or not?
I admit my creativity slows down towards the end of the year with the projects I was working on now completed. But the nonfiction, bread-and-butter work continues.
What about you? What do you like to read or write as the year's end approaches?
Right now I'm reading IF ON A WINTER'S NIGHT A TRAVELER, a book that is part experiment, part commentary, and all about book love.
It's a collection of first chapters of made-up books. Just as you're getting hooked, Reader (meaning you -- much of the book is told through a second-person point of view) finds his book has been misprinted. Like a treasure hunt, Reader looks for the rest of the book but continues to stumble on new first chapters, getting further and further drawn into new stories he can never fully read.
Instead, Reader thinks about books, wondering if stories exist at all apart from the author or if they only begin once the author is removed, if words get in the way of a story or if they are the story themselves, if each reader experiences the same story or if every time a story is read it is something new.
And for those of us who read and write, there's this idea I read last night:
There's a boundary line; on one side are those who make books, on the other those who read them. I want to remain one of those who read them, so I take care always to remain on my side of the line. Otherwise, the unsullied pleasure of reading ends, or at least is transformed into something else, which is not what I want."
What are your thoughts on these things -- an author's role in a story, the way words build or distract, the unique perspective each of us brings to what we've read? And you writers out there, is it possible to cross the boundary line and still experience "the unsullied pleasure of reading"?
Don’t waste all those free narratives right at your fingertips. They’re just waiting for you to weave them into a story.
Here’s how it goes:
1) First, cut and paste a screenful of status updates from your friends into your word processing program.
2) Then, get rid of all but the juiciest, most interesting ones.
3) Imagine a storyline in which these updates belong to your protagonist. Example below.
Names have been changed to protect the innocent, and permissions have been granted to publish these.
Here’s what I started with:
Ted Johnson might need some tequila. Some debt collecting agency calls me several times a day, looking for various Johnsons who don’t exist here. Today they are insisting my name must be Tequila Johnson.
Holly Schuster is up and operating off of 3 hours of sleep…but I got most of my work done…will be crashing this afternoon, for sure!
Tyler Hall talked for a long time with both of my sisters tonight, cried at a sad story on Biggest Loser, and baked a cake: what great (and free) therapy after a tiring day!
Samantha Rivera is making blueberry muffins and drinking coffee through a straw!!! (Yes, still!)
Here’s the beginning of my story:
She was up and operating after only 3 hours of sleep, having talked for a long time with both of her sisters the night before. They couldn’t tell her what to do about the collections agency calling several times a day, looking for Stan. What she felt like drinking was tequila, but the only thing at the office was stale coffee, cool enough to drink through a straw.
*This is a jumping off point to get your brain running—–not a suggestion to fictionalize your friends’ lives. Use more status updates to keep your story going, if you need them. Get writing!
![]()
View Next 2 Posts
By: Ann Bausum,
on 3/15/2013
By: Emily Smith Pearce,
on 1/23/2011
I love Sharon Creech too and her latest The Great Unexpected is also superb! Sharon Creech's Hate That Cat got me to look at poetry as something that is not scary. So happy to see you post on her today!
Thank you, Mia. I still haven't read HATE THAT CAT but need to. Read THE GREAT UNEXPECTED just a few months ago and loved those characters.
I am just finding your site! Where have I been? I read the entire Love That Dog in one sitting to my 3rd graders. I wait until they have been immersed in poetry for months. Then I take a quiet chunk of time and the listen intently. The learn so much from Jack and Miss Stretchberry. They are aghast when he says in the beginning, boys don't write poems, girls do....they know better. I love how they see that there is a way to tell a story in diary form, in verse, that honors, poets, poetry, teachers and kids. I also read Hate That Cat when I can fit it in. I love Sharon Creech for two many reasons to name. You might be interested in what I do with kids and I was a guest blogger on Irene Latham's Live Your Poem on April 7 for the Progressive Poem 2013. The gist is that poetry is at the heart of my literacy program. During the course of the school year the children learn over 40 poems by heart as a group, read tons of poems and write them, too. We perform at a June poetry recital to the joy and amazement of family and friends, but mainly their teacher! I can't wait to go back and read more of your blog. I can tell that I am going to love it and learn so much. I was having tech difficulties with scrolling about, but I saw a Paul Hankins interview and your acrostic poems. I can't wait to get to know you better!!.
Janet F.
Janet, I adore this! I used to wrap up my poetry months with a "coffee house" for my sixth graders. It was such a celebration. Your room sounds like a place I'd love to spend time. And it sounds like your kiddos feel the same way.
Let me know if you'd like to be a part of National Poetry Month next year, I'd love to hear more via a guest post.
Oh, so sorry for the typos. A couple of theys are missing the y... if you can fix, thanks. I couldn't see how I could edit. Duh. When I rush I miss things.
Yes, I would love to be part of your site next year. My email is jfagal at gmail dot com! If you get a chance to read my guest blog on Irene's blog, there is a link to a video of my kids at a recital, though not the one in June!! It has slightly less sparkle, but this is actually the best part. They have not been together since June and is end of Sept. Barely a rehearsal, either. I have an old website called poetryonparade dot com if you want to check it out. There is a lovely poem written by a woman who does our school's PR, but she is someone who loves the poetry nights and it does capture what we do. I am going to subscribe by email so I can get your posts and keep up with what you are doing. I love to find kindred spirits online. I am looking for some closer to home. I am recently retired after a long career but am launching a second one as a visiting poet and poetry teacher in the schools! I volunteer in my old school in a friend's 3rd grade so I can keep on doing poetry. I always get the same reaction. The kids adore poetry "my way".....no pressure, no test, no homework....no requirement to participate yet they all do. And it teaches so much in such a short package. I could go on and on. Are you still teaching? I blend in poems the kids write with a wide variety of published poets' work. I also do not underestimate what 3rd graders will be interested in!!!
I stopped teaching four years ago, as I was having a hard time doing everything well. But I miss it. That's what makes school visits so fun. I'm writing down your email for next year. Off to see your post at Irene's!
Thank you for sharing this...and yep I am tearing up. It is so true what you say about the kindness of the childrens literature community. You all rock and are so good at what you do because of the passion that drives you.
Thank you, Deb. I was at a writing conference this weekend and tried to talk about LOVE THAT DOG and what it means to me. I didn't get far without tearing up. It is amazing that work that is so solitary to begin with can make such far-reaching and meaningful connections.