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By: Shadra Strickland,
on 5/26/2010
This weekend I will be participating in the Decatur Arts Festival Artwalk.
The 3rd Annual
Children’s Book Illustrator’s Show
hosted by Little Shop of Stories and the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, Southern Breeze region during ArtWalk Opening Night for the Decatur Arts Festival. Friday, May 28, 2009, 5 to 9 PM at Little Shop of Stories 133 East Court Square, Decatur, Georgia, USA
(404) 373-6300
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By: Shelli,
on 8/26/2009
Marketing Muse:
Have you heard about Ning.com It is like Facebook, but you join groups instead of individuals. You can search by keyword.
Special Thanks
Special thanks to those of you who emailed me saying you tried to nominate me for the Blogger Appreciation Week. (that was so sweet!) Unfortunately, the nominations closed last week.
Speaking of great blogs - we all follow some great ones. Don't know how I missed this, but at the end of May Writer's digest posted their list of best web sites for 2009. Check it out - there are some great resou
Girl's Night Out
Saturday was definitely a writer day.
What a better way to cap off the night - a double signing with Jennifer Jabaley (Lipstick
Here are a few notes on Jennifer:
Lipstick Apology is about a 16 year old girl, Emily, loses her parents in a plane accident. The media finds a note written on a tray table in lipstick that says: "Emily I am so sorry." Emily is forced to move to NY with her aunt and tries to recover from her loss.
She got her idea for Lipstick Apology from her sister. When her sister was leaving her kids (and flying) for the first time on vacation. She kept calling Jennifer and giving her instructions "in case the plane went down" (I've done this before!!!!!) Jennifer joked with her hubby and said, "watch my sister's plane go down. She'll probably take out her lipstick and write: "kids need to be in bed by 7" on the tray table. Jennifer's hubby said - "that would be a good book". Jennifer wrote it on a post-it and put it in a drawer. She found the post it when she was movin
She writes her books out long hand (yes you heard that right) and then transcribes to the computer.
She found her agent through the traditional way of submitting into the slush pile.
She felt the hardest part of the book was balancing a serious topic of grief and loss with humor.
She started writing during the 2 hours her baby napped. "if you want it bad enough, you will make/find the time."
Brand New Emily is about a 14 year old girl who is not popular at school. Emily decides to hire a New York publicist to makeover her image. Emily returns to rule the school all while discovering who she really is.
She used to do some journalism for celebrity magazine. She had to do an interview with Country music singers. She felt like there was not much difference between them so she talked with their publicists, who gave her insight into celebrity image makeovers. Ginger thought it would be interesting to use that in a teen book.
She partnered up with Bonne Bell/Lipsmackers, who provide her with lipsmackers at her signings and promote her book online. Her character, Emily, uses that makeup to improve her image.
Thanks to Bryan who just gave me a Literary Blog award :)
1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award.
2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.
3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award.
4. Name 7 things about yourself that people might not know.
5. Nominate other Bloggers.
6. Post links to the blogs you nominate.
7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they have been nominated.
I'm going to switch it up.
Here are my favorite 7 things about other people :) Who is scared yet?
Just kidding!
7 things about me:
1) I have a 15 year old Jack Russell Terrier (or otherwise known as terror). He's getting old and I dread the day he goes. He's been through so much with me and is part of my family.
2) I was kicked in the chest by a BABY deer when I was camping because I tried to sneak up behind it in the woods. OK fine, I was planning on riding it. Kids - don't try this at home. It hurts.
3) I drove a huge blue and white van in high school until my senior year. 
I tried so hard to make it cool. Unfortunately my dad did too. He added big red dice to the rear view mirror and ordered a airbrush license plate for the front that said USS Johannes. I learned thin that if you pretend you're cool, sometimes people forget your not.
4) My daughter has a rarish VSD heart condition. She is fine now but the first 6 months were scary. I have a panic attack every time she has heart burn :(
5) My favorite drink is a martini - not just any martini. Greygoose vodka straight up, extra, slightly dirty with extra olives. Yum! This is from my days of reading Ian Fleming books.
6) The first car I bought with my own hard-earned money was a 1995 Jetta. Unfortunately I had to give up my 1992 red Toyota hatchback Celica because it had no air, no radio (had to drive with a boom box on the seat - yes I said boom box!!!) and every morning I had to put in a quart of oil. Needless to say, I only got 500$ for it which was more than I expected.
7) I am insecure about my arms. I was a professional gymnasts from age 3 until age 10. This means in middle and high school, I had a tendency to resemble a small linebacker. I have always had broad shoulders and muscular arms. This is not a problem now b/c since I'm older, it works, but back in school my cheerleading squad (yes I was a cheerleader! why? my parents made me try out. I really just wanted to sing/play guitar) always made me the base because I was so strong. *sigh* I cannot watch cheerleaders today without getting a bit weepy ;)
I'm going to recognize a few writers in my posse:
Chandler Craig at Fumbling with Fiction
Gretchen Mcneil at Sean Chai
Jen K Bloom
Marissa Burt at Rummaging Reads
Jen Hayley
Lisa Rondinelli Albert
Shana Silver
By: The Class of 2k8,
on 12/1/2008
To continue with our theme, we asked Sarah Prineas, author of The Magic Thief, who she wanted to thank today.
Sarah?
Hmmm. It's hard to pick just one person to thank after months of meeting booksellers, teachers, and librarians from all over the country, and after seeing how hard everybody at my publisher works.
I considered Becky Anderson, owner of Anderson's Bookshop in Naperville, who hosted the prepublication dinner where I met the first kid readers of my book; I considered thanking the book's editor, Melanie Donovan, for acquiring the books and being such a joy to work with; I considered my publicist at HarperCollins, Cindy Tamasi, who cheerfully made all the fall tour events run so smoothly.
But one thing I've realized in the six months since The Magic Thief came out is that the independent booksellers are hugely important. Most of the indy booksellers I've met have been passionate advocates for the books they love. I thank them all for that, but the one I thank the most is Diane Capriola at The Little Shop of Stories in Decatur, Georgia.
When The Magic Thief was a Summer 2008 Booksense Children's Pick , Diane was the one who wrote the blurb. She invited me to attend the Decatur Book Festival, where I had an absolutely fabulous time and enjoyed meeting Diane and her staff in person. She also told me she nominated the book for the E.B. White award .
How can I thank booksellers like Diane enough? I don't think I can. But still, I'll try: Diane, thank you!!
And let us all join Sarah in thanking Diane too!
By: Mary Hershey,
on 5/17/2008
404.373.6300
By: Mark Peter Hughes,
on 7/3/2007
I'm typing in the air conditioned comfort of an old, high-ceilinged, civil-war-style house in downtown Atlanta, GA -- have you ever seen Gone With the Wind? It's like that, only instead of Rhett Butler, it's just us inside. The house belongs to our friends Ayesha and Dave, but they're not here either--coincidentally, their already-planned vacation coincided with our visit (at least they told us it was coincidental…) so they're off in parts unknown. Still, they let us use their glorious pad in their absence. Thanks, guys! 
Here’s a picture of us in Frisco, NC, before we left. Also, a picture with Leslie Ann Lanier of the wonderful bookstore Books To Be Red in Ocracoke, NC. A must-visit if you're a bibliophile on the Outer Banks. The 'Red' in the store's name comes from Ann's hair. Isn't that cool? :-)
Some fun news: Check out the Publisher’s Weekly Web site – we’re the lead article! :-) Here’s the link:
http://www.publishersweekly.com/article/CA6457079.html
A Note added by Karen: A highlight of our stay in Atlanta was that we met up with one of my best friends from high school, Karen Sytsma and her family! I haven't seen Karen in 20 years, and we hit it off as if we see each other everyday! Karen and her sons Josiah and Caleb followed us to all the bookstores, and we got a chance to visit her husband Mike at work! Josiah showed the kids a dragon lizard called Beowolf...a relative of the giant iguana we saw earlier. All these lizards in Atlanta, is it a requirement to have one? What a great visit!!
Tomorrow we’re off to Jackson, MS, via Birmingham, AL. :-)
Happy travels!
--Mark
www.markpeterhughes.com
By: Lisa Alvarado,
on 5/29/2007
Murder, memory, loss, anguish--all the stuff of crime fiction and tragedy. It is the subject matter of novelist James Ellroy, whose literary career has garnered him praise from the national press, and whose novel, L.A. Confidential, became a critically acclaimed film. But in My Dark Places, Ellroy throws the reader an unexpected twist.
This book is about the killing of his own mother, whom Ellroy lost when he was 10. It was the single incident that propelled Ellroy through a life as an introverted child, a teen criminal, a con, a drug addict, and finally a writer. But even as Ellroy dredges his tortured life from the ashes, his mother's ghost is never far behind. He longs for her, dreams about her, and she insinuated herself into every waking moment of his life.
My Dark Places is memoir, crime story, love song and a cry in the dark. Jean Ellroy was very much like a character in a noir novel. A woman of duplicity, torn between two lives, she was subdued and distant with her son, and acted more as a disciplinarian., rather than loving mother. In her other life she was a secret alcoholic, habitually drawn to anonymous sex with violent men. One of those men killed her on June 22, 1958. It was the single experience that rent the fabric of James Ellroy's life. He spent the next 36 years both running from her ghost, and recreating her life.
As soon as he was able Ellroy disappeared into the underworld. He was his mother's son, after all. She drank, he grew up and did eight balls and speed. She hung with criminals, he became one. She picked up men in bars and had one-night stands, he met women, screwed them, dumped them and moved along. When the drugs and the sex and the crime failed, Ellroy even reconstituted himself as a sober, successful writer. Nothing healed that wound that was his mother. He desired her, despised her, finally decided to investigate the case himself, hoping in this way, to reclaim her. What happened was an odyssey of obsession, redemption, but not peace.
Despite a kind of resolution, James Ellroy will never be a peaceable being. He ends My Dark Places with these words: I can hear your voice. I can smell you and taste your breath. You're brushing against me. You're gone and I want more of you. Then he lists the name and number of the detective who is still looking for leads, still looking for the killer.
Why is this so compelling for me? I was drawn to read this book after hearing an interview with Ellroy, feeling shocked to hear him talk about the tragedy in words that were my own. My own writing about mother-loss echoes Ellroy's: I am looking for you mother, looking for you everywhere. In the corridors of dreams, windowless, empty. I look for the door that will lead me to you. I look, but I never find it.
I ran from my own childhood holocaust, escaped anyway I could. I, too, reworked, re-envisioned, and reshaped my life by writing. That wound has never completely healed. Maybe it never will, if my own intuition and Ellroy's cautionary words mean anything. But we write, we keep digging up the past, we keep afloat.
On a purely stylistic note: this is riveting writing. The book is crafted with a staccato rhythm, the use of simple, clean phrasing, and icy-hot imagery. I hope I can use it to shape a trilogy of performance I'm working on about personal and pop culture violence, Bury the Bones. Maybe Ellroy would enjoy the title.
ISBN-10: 0679762051
Lisa Alvarado
By: Garden Painter Art,
on 5/13/2007
Today is Mother's Day. It is the 18th time I have celebrated this day as a mother. There have been many bouquets of flowers and lots of funny and sweet cards given to me by my 3 kids through these years. BUT...I would like to take this time to thank my husband for always making sure that not a single Mom's Day passed by without me being lavished with flowers, gifts, and cards. When the kids were too little to plan this day, it was Gary that always stepped up to the plate and made plans. Plans for me to NOT do any housework or cooking. He always made sure that I had some sort of lovely little thing to unwrap, even in our leanest times. And believe me, we had plenty of lean times!!
Now that the kids are older, they all work together. Yesterday, I had a huge and beautiful bouquet of roses delivered to the house, along with a charming box of chocolates. Today, my daughter is busy in the kitchen preparing all the food for a Bar-B-Que. She's made a double batch of Chocolate Chocolate Chip muffins (recipe courtesy of Nigella Lawson)and chopped and diced everything that needed to be. My boys will work with Gary to grill some gorgeous Filet Mignon and are always in a jolly mood on this day.
In a few hours Gary will take the 5 minute drive to pick up my mom and bring her here to be with us. As always, I have bought her an Orchid corsage, which has become a tradition. When I was growing up, my dad always bought one for my mom on Mother's Day. Now that he is gone, I have taken up that tradition and I always have a beautiful be-ribboned Orchid waiting to be pinned to her blouse.
For me, this day is always chock-full of memories from past Mother's Days. Those sweet, early times when the kids were so excited for me to open their gifts and read the cards. And through these last 18 years of Mother's Day celebrations, I have received countless cards and lush bouquets and beautifully wrapped packages. BUT, the greatest gifts are the hearts of my children.
To all moms who read this: I hope this day brings you that simple but deep love in the pit of your heart that only a child can so innocently give.
To My Dearest Friend Cindy N: You have been an inspiration to me for so many years. Through your ups and downs, happinesses and heartaches and a loss of a child, you are a strong and steadfast mom. Your perseverance and unconditional love will, in the end, always be what your children will treasure.
Until Tomorrow:
Kim
Garden Painter Art
gnarly-dolls
Kim's Kandid Kamera
By: Betsy Bird,
on 5/13/2007
I admit that in spite of the hitherto lack of little ones ah-banging and ah-bungling around my knees, I enjoy the occasional parenting blog like Strollerderby. Recently they had a great series of segments describing what NOT to get the matriarch of any given home. Take a moment today, then, to make it quite clear to your own mama that she should be bloody grateful you didn't get her anything found here, or here, or certainly not here.
Posted on 5/9/2007
It was about a year ago, on a spring day like a lot of spring days in Chicago; the sky, overcast, the color of slate, the color of mourning doves. The wind was blowing cool and damp, making me shiver. I was standing in Queen of Heaven cemetery, looking down at a mound of dirt, an unmarked grave. It was where Rita Alvarado, my mother was buried. So much had happened between us, so much said and unsaid. I laid down on top of the dirt and opened my arms to try to hold her one last time.
People have asked me how would I describe my relationship with her. I tell them this. A little girl and her mother are flying on an airplane, when something happens and the plane starts careening toward the ground. In a rush, the mother searches for a parachute and finds only one. Placing it on the girl, she carries her to the open hatch. The child wails and screams, begging her mother not to let go. But the mother, with infinite love, takes that last step, and releases her daughter to the open sky, to the world, to her future.
Everything I am today is because my mother gave me a parachute.
The following piece is my love letter.
It’s winter Mamí, and I’m thinking of you. Not Mother’s Day, and not your birthday --- on an icy, white, nameless day in the heart of winter. Through the cold that seems like it will never end, my thoughts turn to you and that memory --- the last happy time.
We’re in Geneva, near the Wisconsin border, tobogganing, with abuelo and silent, angry Daddy. I’m four, I think, and you are kneeling in the snow, your hair in a French braid, your fur coat billowing around you as the wind blows. I’m in my blue snow suit, chubby and smiling, and loving you, loving you so very much. How could I know that you would soon start to leave me by degrees?
Each time I remember the snow, your beautiful face, I ache. I want you. I want a woman. Only a woman. This longing is about the hunger only a woman can feed. I want what I want. I want what I can’t have. I let a woman hold me. It is something. It is never enough.
But I remember you taught me about stories and the power in telling them.
Posted on 5/5/2007
René Colato Laínez
You can find this poem in the Spanish Children's Magazine, Iguana (May-June 2007)
En el día de las madres
corto flores de colores
para la reina de corazones
que me canta lindas canciones.
En el día de las madres
preparo un gran pastel
con tres libras de sal, un poco de miel
y mucha canela como el color de mi piel.
En el día de las madres
rompo mi pequeña alcancía
para comprarle a la reina una silla
y si no me alcanza, una calcomanía.
En el día de las madres
le abriré hasta el cielo mis brazos
para darle un regalaso,
un gran beso y un abrazo.
Take a look at these books about Mother’s Day/ Día de las madres:
Antonio's Card / La Tarjeta de Antonio by Rigoberto Gonzalez. Illustrated by Cecilia Alvarez.
¿Me quieres, mamá? por Barbara Joosse. Ilustrado por Barbara Lavallee.
A Ride on Mother's Back: A Day of Baby Carrying around the World
by Emery Bernhard. Illustrated by Durga Bernhard.
Happy Mother's Day, Mami! Happy Mother's Day, Mami!
by Leslie Valdes. Illustrated by Jason Fruchter.
Siempre te querré por Robert Munsch.
Mother's Day: El Dia De Las Madres by Ana Consuelo Matiella. Illustrated by Juana Alicia.
Love You Forever by Robert Muncsh.
Mama, Do You Love Me? by Barbara Joosse. Illustrated by Barbara Lavallee.
Are You My Mother? by P.D. Eastman
Posted on 5/1/2007
What mother wouldn't like a picture book for Mother's Day?
Here's a short (incomplete) list of books that would make great gifts for mom ....
"A Special Day for Mommy" by Dan Andreasen
"Someday" by Alison McGhee & Peter H. Reynolds
"I Love My Mama" by Peter Kavanagh & Jane Chapman
"Don't Forget I Love You" by Miriam Moss & Anna Currey
"What Mommies Do Best" by Laura Numeroff & Lynn Munsinger
"Heather Has Two Mommies" by Leslea Newman & Diana Souza
"Mars Needs Moms!" by Berkeley Breathed
"Even Firefighters Hug Their Moms" by Christine Kole MacLean & Mike Reed
"31 Uses For A Mom" by Harriet Ziefert & Rebecca Dought
"Mom for Mayor" by Nancy Edwards & Michael Chesworth
"What Moms Can't Do" by Douglas Wood & Doug Cushman
"Guess How Much I Love You" by Sam Mcbratney & Anita Jeram
"You Are My I Love You" by Maryann Cusimano Love
OMgoodness about being kicked in the chest by a deer. that scared me just reading it lol! I'm glad you're OK though and thanks for the awesome links!
I love random posts! Congrats on the nominations and the award.
Yeah, I have heard of "ning". In fact, I just realized I'm a member of ning group. LOL!
Oooh, kicked in the chest by a deer? Ouch!
I write everything out long hand first, too! Maybe I'll be as successful as Jennifer one day! :)
Lots of cool stuff here!
I have heard of Ning, and am a member. There's this very loud part of me that wants to scream "no more social networking places".
Seriously. Can't we all just settle on Facebook :)
I used to read Ian Flemming, too!! Somehow, though, martinis always sound like they taste better than they do.
Shelley
I love that you drove a van in high school. I drove Daisy, a '78 Oldsmobile that we liked to enter via the windows Dukes of Hazard style. Lipstick Apology sounds really interesting. I'll have to keep my eye out for it.
Randomness is my middle name. Great picture, sounds like you guys had a blast.
You do randomness very well.
OMG two things jumped out at me- long-hand writing and kicked by baby deer-hehe loved reading this!!
Great post! Congrats on the award. I really enjoyed reading your answers. :)
Fun tidbits!!!
I was never kicked by a deer, but I was pushed down by a baby elephant!
I was always the base for cheerleading, too. No top of the pyramid for me!
I use to always say I'd write my books out longhand...soooo glad I haven't.
My husband was a gymnast all through college...still have the hardest time finding him shirts that can stretch across his shoulders.
I was a cheerleader and am trying to steer my girls away from it. What did all those cheers mean?!! Push them back, push them back. I spent hours saying things like that. It's a wonder I can write my own name now. Sorry to all cheerleading lovers out there!
Great post! The deer sounds painful. I haven't been kicked by any, but I've sure been snuffed at a lot by them -- bears too. My husband likes martinis too. :)
Congrats on the award!!! So glad your daughter is okay now ... that must have been so frightening!
Is this award season or what?! Congratulations!
And I forgot to say I drove a blue Chevy van in high school, too, but no dice =)
Awww Shelli! Thanks for the shout out!