I have spent the last eight or so weekends in the main branch of the New York Public Library, moving between the periodicals room and the main reading room and writing writing writing my heart out. The new book is coming along, and I am completely enchanted by the characters in it. It’s been a very different experience writing a contemporary story from writing Song of the Sparrow, and while it was sort of terrifying at first (because even though The Weight of the Sky is contemporary, it was so close to my own experience, and it was set in a different country, and I don’t know—it was just different), but now that I’m in it, and really inside the characters’ heads, I am just in love. So, so far, this has been a challenging but exciting book for me.

Working in the library has been wonderful. If you haven’t seen the building on 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue, you should try to pay it a visit—you can see it online at www.nypl.org. The building is beautiful—like a temple to books. Right now there’s a phenomenal exhibit on Jack Kerouac there, and it features the scroll on which Kerouac wrote On the Road. I think the original scroll has been taken away and replaced by a mimeograph of it—the whole thing was 120 feet long, and it’s one giant, long block of text—no chapter or paragraph markers, no breaks or indentations. It’s a solid block of text. Single-spaced. There’s also, right now, a small but really lovely exhibit on John Milton, which features first editions of Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained. Pretty awesome. And the periodicals room is one of the most beautiful rooms I’ve ever seen. It features frescoes of famous buildings in New York City that are/were home to presses. The Rose Reading Room is also stunning and majestic. It feels good to write in a place like this. Especially since I spent virtually my entire childhood in m local library.


So, not much news on my end, I’ve just been writing and writing. Hope all is well!

I’m having a hard time balancing everything right now. Writing, working, blogging, life… I’m sprinting down the home stretch, trying to finish the new book— and I think I’m close, maybe about two-thirds of the way done now—but I am so busy at work and so tired. Last weekend I had the stomach flu or food poisoning or something. That was no fun, and it also meant I wasn’t nearly as productive as I’d hoped to be. So, overall, I’d say I’m not balancing my days very well at all, and it’s stressing me out!

On the other hand, and I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned this before, I’ve been studying sculpting at the Art Students League of New York, and am happy to say that the piece I’m currently working on is coming along rather nicely. Once I figure out how to get photos off my camera and onto the computer (yes, I’m that technologically backward!), I’ll post some pictures of it. It’s a woman’s head. Meanwhile, the photo that is here is the Art Student's League...but that's not how we look now. The place has a really cool history--you can check out their web site at www.theartstudentsleague.org

Meanwhile I’ve also gone to see the same play three times; most of my friends and family think I’m psycho. But, if you’ve seen The Seafarer, you probably can understand. At least a little bit, right? Right???

Well, I’ve managed to let most of this cold, rainy, very dreary Saturday pass me by, without much to show for it. So, it’s back to work for me.

Hi everyone. I am sorry I have been away from the blog for a couple of weeks. I have a good excuse, though. I’ve been writing. I’ve been writing a lot. And to accomplish this, I’ve had to isolate myself. I’ve absconded to places where I have no Internet access, no television access, no access to any distractions at all, actually. So, now, to actually be online feels like getting out of jail. Or house arrest, maybe.
I’ve been combing the streets of Manhattan for quiet, warm places to work. They are rare. It’s really cold here, and it’s really crowded and hard to find an empty table, a free seat anywhere. Today I actually resorted to my sister’s law office. Yikes!
In other news, I saw the most incredible, transforming play I’ve ever seen: The Seafarer, which is currently on Broadway and which was written by Conor McPherson. With themes of redemption and hope and love and friendship, and with the most superb ensemble cast, this play left me speechless for about a full thirty minutes when it ended. If anyone is in the NYC area and has the chance to see it, I can’t recommend it highly enough. It’s gorgeous, and it is an inspiration.
I hope everyone is staying warm.

This weekend was a big one for me. I finally, finally cracked the code of my new book. After many drafts and false starts and do-overs, I finally found the groove. This book has led me on an interesting, if often frustrating path, as I’ve had many weeks to examine my writing process (and to feel bad about it). I always take a long time preparing to begin writing, sketching out scenes and characters in a notebook first, outlining chapter by chapter and refining and redefining the outline. For Song of the Sparrow, I did months of research. But this story has proven to be the most challenging so far.

Now that I’m working on a contemporary story, I don’t have as much library research to do, and so I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to get to know my characters, especially my protagonist and trying to figure out their world. As I noted last week, it was slow going. And brimming with anguish and neuroses and general loony-ness.

Yet, when it clicks, there is no better feeling. Is this what giving birth is like? The amazing joy and relief and exhilaration? I have no idea, but I imagine it might not be so dissimilar.

At any rate, I’m very pleased with the progress I’ve begun to make on A Map of the Known World, and I’m excited to keep at it. So, you know where I’ll be for the next several months. Right here, in front of my computer, toiling away.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and a merry Christmas. I’m supposed to be working on my new book, and let me tell you, it’s hard. I meant to use the days leading up to and all around Christmas to write, and somehow, I just wasn’t very successful at making good time.

I’ve been busy with other things though—listening to lots of music. There are two amazing soundtracks that I’ve totally fallen in love with: I’m Not There and Juno. They’re both fantastic. The Sonic Youth cover of Bob Dylan’s song “I’m Not There” is amazing (it’s on the soundtrack). And, this song is beautiful to begin with, but the cover brings a whole new layer to it that’s sort of like a wall of sound, but poetic sound. I’m always blown away by the poetry of Dylan’s lyrics.

In honor of my Golden Compass obsession, Liel got me a Golden Monkey Pez dispenser. Yay. I haven’t had Pez in so many years.

Beyond that, there’s not much to tell. I’ve just embarked on a couple of books: Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil and The Routledge Philosophy Guidebook to Heidegger and Being and Time. They’re both really hard, but lately, I feel like all of the Law & Order watching I do is turning my brain slightly mushy. It is due for a workout.

And, I must say some of the ideas I’ve encountered in my readings so far have made me think about the directions I want to take the new book, and that’s really thrilling for me.

So, other than that, I am eating a lot, not sleeping much at all, and trying to avoid the television. Also, I’m a champ at Link’s Crossbow Training on the Nintendo Wii.

Happy and healthy New Year to all!

Hey everyone,
Just a short note to say have a very cozy holiday and the happiest new year, filled with joy and lots of great books!
Yours,
Lisa

To continue my moviegoing reportage, I went to see The Golden Compass this past Friday night, the official opening night. First, I have to try to explain just how excited I was. SO excited, like a little kid. I love these books. LOVE them. I reread them regularly and have finally managed to get my husband to read them after much wheedling and pleading. I force them on everyone I know. The books are amazing. So, you can imagine how I was dancing on pins and needles last Friday. The day seemed to drag on and on, and it felt like the evening would never come. Finally, it did. I couldn’t stop grinning all the way to the theater, and when we got there, I skipped. I skipped! I couldn’t wait. But at the same time, I was nervous…I knew that once I had seen it, I wouldn’t have it to look forward to anymore. All that delicious anticipation would be gone, and if the movie was bad…well, that was just unthinkable. I mean, it’s The Golden Compass.
I was certain the movie would be sold out. What’s more, I was certain that unless we got to the movie theater an hour early, we wouldn’t get seats—let alone good ones. Well, there was a line, and it was fairly long, but seats were not a problem. The film played in the theater’s largest auditorium, which has almost 900 seats. I’ve been there when it was full. The midnight premiere of Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings, for instance (showing my dork). It was not full for this film. Then, a series of trailers came on, and some of them were for other fantasy stories I like a great deal—but all piled on top of each other like that, everything kind of looked the same. And one couldn’t help but think, gosh, we sure are churning out a lot of fantasy.
Then the movie started, and the set and the characters and costumes were beautiful. Perfect. And the daemons…they looked real! I was so happy. But then there were some changes from the original text (I won’t reveal what they are, so as not to spoil anything), and then the plot began jumping and rushing, from scene to scene with no transitions, no development, no fluidity. The two greatest flaws were that Iorek Byrnison’s allegiance to and love for Lyra come about immediately—this was certainly a friendship that grew over the course of the book (over the course of the trilogy, really), and was sorely lacking from this film. And the real impetus for Lyra’s rescue mission wasn’t fleshed out, wasn’t felt. The sloppiness of the editing, though, made the whole thing feel slapped together; for instance, Iorek Byrnison suddenly knew of Lyra’s mission to rescue the children from Bolvangar without ever having been told. But, my, did he look tremendous. The special effects were all around magnificent. I didn’t even mind the ending so much—I certainly wasn’t surprised, given that this is such a mainstream movie and the script had already been watered down so much. However, the careless and slapdash editing weakened the film terribly, and overall, it was very disappointing. But , there was enough beauty on the screen, and the acting was superb, so when I left, although I was really sad, I could get over it and think, at least Lyra and all the other characters were exactly as they should have been.

I just went to see the new film Beowulf in 3D on an IMAX screen last night. Wow, is that movie a stinker. The 3D effects are pretty cool, and they definitely saved the movie from total laughability, and saved the audience from total disgust. But even the 3D effects seemed to lose their luster about halfway into the movie. Meaning, it felt like the filmmakers just got bored with trying to come up with cool three-dimensional effects and sort of threw up their hands. By the end, nothing cool happened in 3D.

The animation, as I expected, was weird. In this odd realistic style, I find that the animators never manage to capture the natural fluidity of human movement, of mouths shaping words, of gaits, of gestures, and it looks so stilted, it’s hard for me to focus on anything else. Robin Wright Penn (whom I didn’t recognize at all—in fact, I had no idea it was her until the end credits!) and Angelina Jolie both looked pretty bad. Well, Angelina’s high-heeled feet were awesome, but her face just wasn’t her own. But, all of this is just cosmetic. What really floored me was the disaster of a story. How could the filmmakers stray so far from the storyline of the original, so as to make the plot almost unrecognizable? Now, I haven’t read Beowulf in many years (I won’t reveal the magic number, but suffice it to say since high school), and my memory of the story is spotty, but, seriously, making Grendel’s mother into a temptress? Come on!

As one of my friends said, after we joked about the ending leaving room for a Beowulf 2 movie, “It felt like this movie was based on the book Beowulf 2.”

By far the coolest thing I saw on the screen last night was the trailer for the 3D U2 concert.

Now it’s back to the grindstone for me…my deadline for A Map of the Known World approaches!

Thanksgiving. I have so much to be grateful for this year. My family was with me for the big meal, my husband did all of the cooking and nearly all of the cleaning, and the food was delicious. But, seriously, we were together—healthy and happy. And I have had this amazing year of grace, in which I saw Song of the Sparrow published and in which I’ve received the most incredible letters from readers, in which my puppy Molly recovered from two serious illnesses, in which I got to celebrate many wonderful weddings and other joyous occasions with my friends, in which I met new friends and visited cool new places. And, I had a big birthday this past weekend. I’m not owning up to which one it was, but I’m happy to be entering a new era that will hopefully be even more fruitful and fun.

I also lost my grandmother Bessie Sandell this year. I think about her every day; I don’t think I’ll ever get over losing her. But, I am grateful for all the years I did have her in my life, and for all that she gave me. The courage to be independent—and sassy, like she was—a deep and abiding love for animals and people, tolerance, patience, and a strong and loving spirit. I hope that she will be proud of me.

I just spent the past weekend at the National Council of Teachers of English convention in New York City, where I got to meet so many cool teachers and librarians and writers. I participated in the NCTE Poetry Blast, where I read alongside such amazing poets as Lee Bennett Hopkins, Nikki Grimes, Joyce Sidman, Marilyn Nelson, and many others. It was incredible meeting and sitting beside Lee, whom I’ve admired for so many years. He’s a very funny man. All together, I had a ton of fun this weekend.

Also, I wanted to mention a book I read recently that has stayed with me. You’ve probably heard of it…it won a little award called the National Book Award. This book made me laugh and made me cry, and it made me develop a big ol’ crush on the author: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie. Wow, what a phenomenal book. It is so funny and sad and so beautifully human. If you haven’t already, read it!!

I feel so fortunate...to have been introduced to this amazing community of readers and writers and bloggers, and to have been adopted by them. Thank you so much, guys!

The Winter Blog Blast Tour continues, and Jackie Parker of Interactive Reader has posted the second part of my interview on her blog. You can find it at:
http://interactivereader.blogspot.com/2007/11/lisa-ann-sandell.html

And Jackie also posted an amazingly sensitive review of The Weight of the Sky:
http://interactivereader.blogspot.com/2007/11/funny-thing-about-sky-is-that-it-can.html

Jackie's blog can be found at: http://interactivereader.blogspot.com/

It's an exciting week for me...I was interviewed by two incredibly smart and thoughtful bloggers, Colleen Mondor of Chasing Ray and Jackie Parker of Interactive Reader, who asked me very tough, but fascinating questions for their Winter Blog Blast Tour.


You can read the first half of my tour here:
http://www.chasingray.com/archives/2007/11/she_sta yed_with_me_through_the.html

Stay tuned for Part 2!


Interactive Reader: http://interactivereader.blogspot.com/
Chasing Ray: www.chasingray.com

Fall is finally, finally here! The weather has finally caught up with the month of October. Today it was sunny and cool and windy and brilliant. I rode my bike along the Hudson River, and it was invigorating and wonderful. Except, the leaves are still green…which is weird. No autumn hues, no reds or golds. But, at least with the cooler temperatures, it makes staying inside and curling up with a book and hot tea very inviting. And I’ve been rereading Gary Paulsen’s The Winter Room. What a fantastic story, and he is truly a master storyteller and writer. Currently, I’m struggling with my own next story, finding it hard to string one word after the next.

Writer’s block.

Here’s hoping that the autumnal weather brings me that back-to-school sensation that lets me get cracking again.

This oily, clammy summer weather in October is making me feel kind of out of sorts. I am hot, then I’m cold, and this weekend, instead of working on my new book, as I was supposed to, I went for a bike ride. Oh well. It was fun. The other cool thing I got to do this weekend was see J.K. Rowling read from Harry Potter VII at Carnegie Hall. Oh my goodness, it was incredible. First, I was amazed to see Carnegie Hall filled to the brim, and all for a book. And, then, of course, to see Ms. Rowling, and to hear her read her own words was wonderful. She was so funny and warm and genuine. And she read from one of my favorite chapters, when Ron returns to Harry and Hermione. She did their voices exactly as I’d imagined them. Everybody in that auditorium was beside themselves with joy and excitement. I even found myself weeping a few times, to see how star struck some of the little kids were, and to see how much these books had meant to so many people. To me, too. Harry, most of you probably don’t know, has played a very important role in my life. A pivotal one, actually. You see, I met my husband because of Harry.

When the first movie came out, I was lucky enough to receive a ticket to a sneak preview. I invited a dear friend of mine, another writer named Adina Kay, and when I met her to go to the theater, there he was standing outside on the curb with her, waiting for me. Liel said, “nice purse,” and I think it was love at first sight.

One year later (and one year of dating Liel later), at the sneak preview for the second film, I was sitting in the same theater with Adina, when all of a sudden her phone rang. I was so embarrassed. I became even more embarrassed when she told me the call was from Liel and I had to go down to the lobby and meet him. My first instinct was to ask her who had died. After she assured me that everyone was well, I met Liel. He greeted me with a weird grin and said that we had to meet his friend. Then we walked out into Time Square (and I recall walking past Mr. Big, Chris Noth), and wandered around until a van with wood paneling and track lighting on the inside picked us up and whisked us off to the New Jersey Turnpike. Liel, looking very mischievous, told me we were having a special birthday dinner in New Jersey. Now that’s odd, I thought. But I went with it. Then, the van pulled off the turnpike, toward Newark Airport.

“It’s not dinner in New Jersey,” Liel admitted. “I actually thought we’d spend a long weekend in Montreal for your birthday,” he said. My birthday was a week away. I called my family, my bosses, my friends and told everyone I was off to Montreal for a long weekend. And all of those people said, “Yes, Lisa, have a great time in Montreal!”

But when we arrived at our gate, I saw the words “Charles De Gaulle – Paris” on the monitor over the check-in desk. “Oh my god, we’re not going to Montreal,” I breathed. “We’re going to PARIS!!!”

I grabbed Liel in a breath-sucking bear hug, and promptly burst into tears. And when we arrived in Paris the next day, we trotted around the Left Bank, stopping in cafes, drinking coffee, and eating pain au chocolat. That evening, Liel took me on a twilight walk across the Pont Neuf, steered me over to a bench, got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.

So you see, it’s all thanks to Harry. And Liel’s master planning and undeniable romanticism. The End.

Hey y’all,
I came back from touring in Alabama for the Alabama Library Exposition a couple of weeks ago. It was a blast. I got to travel with the Scholastic Book Fairs and meet librarians in Bessemer, which is just outside of Birmingham; Scottsboro, which is near Huntsville; and Florence, Alabama. It was great—lots of traveling, lots of food, and lots of fun. I’d never been to Alabama before, but I would love to go back and spend more time there, and really get to see Birmingham and Huntsville. Unfortunately, on this trip, there just wasn’t time to sightsee. Everybody was so warm and so kind…it spoke volumes for Southern Hospitality. But one thing I’ve noticed as I’ve traveled around the United States is that, for the most part, people are friendly and helpful. Even in New York City!

After Alabama, I flew directly to Los Angeles, where I met my mom and had a couple of very fun-filled days. We went to the Getty Center, which was stunning. We saw a phenomenal retrospective of the photographer Edward Weston’s work, and a variety of other exhibits. We drove along the Pacific Coast Highway, tooled around Malibu and the Pacific Palisades, and hung out in Santa Monica and walked along the pier. And then we got to go to the launch party for a book I edited, called The Down-to-Earth Guide to Global Warming, by Laurie David and Cambria Gordon. It was so much fun, and we met tons of interesting people.

Then, I had four days at home to recover before Liel and I left for Providence, Rhode Island, where we celebrated the wedding of our best friends, Eric and Sarah. The wedding was beautiful, and it was an excellent weekend. So, all said, it was a very fulfilling few weeks, tiring, but inspirational and very, very fun.

More soon,
lisa

I’m off to Alabama this coming week for the Alabama Library Association’s traveling expo; the Scholastic Book Fairs are bringing me down there for it. I can’t wait. I’ve never been to Alabama, and I can’t wait to see it. The South is a region I don’t know so well…in fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I haven’t seen very much of this country at all. But, I am really looking forward to exploring a little bit—the neat thing about this conference is that it travels from city to city, so hopefully, I’ll get to see quite a bit of Alabama. I’m also really excited about traveling on behalf of my book Song of the Sparrow. I haven’t really been on a “book tour” before. I don’t know if this qualifies really, but I think so…right? Nevertheless, it is super cool in my mind.

Then, after four days in Alabama, I’m off to Los Angeles, where I’m meeting my mom and going to a launch party for one of the books I worked on in while wearing my other hat as a book editor. I’ll be sure to share any celebrity sightings when I get back!

So, it’ll be fun fun fun in the sun for the next week. If you're in Alabama, come say hello. Otherwise, wish me luck!

I spent most of this weekend cleaning my apartment, covered in dust and tumbleweeds of dog fur. But, I accomplished a lot. We have a small fortress of books assembled on our living room floor. Have you seen Snakes on a Plane? I wouldn’t recommend it, but I think our wall of books would definitely keep the snakes out. It’s weird to be a grown-up with a household to keep up. I’m glad it’s just an apartment and not a whole house.

I couldn’t believe how much paper I have. I don’t know what to do with it. And I have formed an attachment to almost every sheet that I’ve saved. Why can’t I seem to throw anything away? What makes a pack rat? Is it a writer’s quest for immortality? I don’t think so. I don’t really care if anyone remembers me after I’m dead. I think it’s more of an abject fear that every time I throw away something, in three, four, five, or ten years time, I’ll need it, want it, look for it, then curse myself for disposing of it. Whatever it is. It’s happened before. Ugh…STUFF. I hate it. When I lived in Israel, I hardly had any stuff, and it felt good. Free. Stuff just weighs me down. But for the time being, I seem to be content to just sink beneath the weight of all my stuff.

Well, at least my desk is clean now, so I have no excuses for not writing!

Last night I watched a movie called After the Wedding, a Danish film that was in theaters earlier this year. I won’t reveal too much about it, but as I watched, I kept thinking that something sinister was going to happen, or one of the characters I was following would turn out to be villainous. The movie continued to unfold, and this sense of the ominous persisted. After two hours had passed and the film came to a close, I realized, none of the characters was actually BAD. Sure, they were flawed, but just as real people are. What does it say about me that I had this expectation that at least one of the characters would do something violent or wicked? Or about our culture? Does it say anything? Am I just rambling…probably.

Meanwhile, this past week, Liel and I committed ourselves to living like people who don’t live in NYC do. We started cooking again. We only ordered in food once and ate out once (but that was only to celebrate our anniversary¬—our 3rd!). It is a terrible temptation living here—where there are lots of different and very good restaurants, and where nearly all of the restaurants deliver for free¬—to order in. So, last weekend and this one, we went to the supermarket, like I had done my whole life until moving here, and bought groceries to last us the week. Oh, it feels like such delicious normalcy! And of course, much healthier and way more affordable.

And now I’ll go back to contemplating whether I just expect the worst from people, or whether our culture has groomed to me expect the worst, or whether this particular movie was done in such a way as to lead the viewer into expecting the worst. And whether it means something or absolutely nothing at all.

I have just started re-reading Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials Trilogy (I’m gearing up for the movie, of course!). I’m just one hundred pages into THE GOLDEN COMPASS, and I cannot get over how good it is. I am glad I didn’t read this as a little kid; there’s no way I would have understood all of the philosophical and political meanings and undercurrents. But he’s such a great writer. And I love how Lyra starts as a mean, rough-and-tumble, tough little kid. He describes her as a being like a “half wild cat.” I am counting the days ‘til this movie comes out.

Meanwhile, I should be starting to work on my new book, A MAP OF THE KNOWN WORLD. But, I haven’t really started. The hardest part, for me, about the writing process is motivating to sit down and start writing. I can sit and dream and think and try to understand my characters or the story, but it doesn’t really happen, the characters don’t start to take on flesh in my mind until the first words are down on paper. But getting myself to the desk, to the computer, to begin putting those words on paper is so hard. I’m not sure if it’s laziness or anxiety…or maybe out and out fear that keeps me. Maybe a combination of all three.

But I think the story is banging around in my head so much, that now tiny little cracks are starting to form, and it just might escape. I guess it’s time to buck up, get up off my lazy butt and start writing. No more Law & Order. To desk chair, I go.

I have just started re-reading Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials Trilogy (I’m gearing up for the movie, of course!). I’m just one hundred pages into THE GOLDEN COMPASS, and I cannot get over how good it is. I am glad I didn’t read this as a little kid; there’s no way I would have understood all of the philosophical and political meanings and undercurrents. But he’s such a great writer. And I love how Lyra starts as a mean, rough-and-tumble, tough little kid. He describes her as a being like a “half wild cat.” I am counting the days ‘til this movie comes out.

Meanwhile, I should be starting to work on my new book, A MAP OF THE KNOWN WORLD. But, I haven’t really started. The hardest part, for me, about the writing process is motivating to sit down and start writing. I can sit and dream and think and try to understand my characters or the story, but it doesn’t really happen, the characters don’t start to take on flesh in my mind until the first words are down on paper. But getting myself to the desk, to the computer, to begin putting those words on paper is so hard. I’m not sure if it’s laziness or anxiety…or maybe out and out fear that keeps me. Maybe a combination of all three.

But I think the story is banging around in my head so much, that now tiny little cracks are starting to form, and it just might escape. I guess it’s time to buck up, get up off my lazy butt and start writing. No more Law & Order. To desk chair, I go.

This summer is slipping past so quickly, I can’t seem to catch hold of it. We came back from our trip to Israel and England a few weeks ago, and I’m sorry to report, there was a minor crisis. Molly Dog Leibovitz, our brown mutt puppy, caught a terrible stomach ailment while we were away, and had to be hospitalized. Obviously, it put a major damper on our trip, as we put off plans to travel to Jordan and Egypt, to look for early flights home. She came out of the hospital before we were able to actually find any seats on any outgoing flights, and so we continued on to London and Cambridge, England, where we were able to visit our very good friends—including the amazing author Alison Pollet! When we arrived home, unfortunately, Molly still wasn’t at 100%. Fortunately, she is okay now, and pretty much recovered. But something tragic has taken place in Molly’s world now—she’s not allowed any more table scraps or treats! Of course, she still gets treats once in a while, and the vet’s decree certainly has not curbed her begging habits (“Look, Mom, I‘m sitting!”) at all. But, happily, so far, so good.

The other news I have is that I managed to write a proposal for a new YA novel (another reason I was offline—I know, excuses, excuses), and Scholastic Press will be publishing it in Summer 2009. I’m so excited! It feels so good to be writing again.

And, I'm back on my bike, too. Happily, I don't even tense up anymore, quite as much, when I ride over rough surfaces, like I had been doing after the big spill. Beyond that, my big plans for the summer, to clean my apartment out—I mean thoroughly, have sort of evaporated. Oh well. Maybe come autumn. (yeah, right...)

So, now that all is more or less back to ordinary, I am back to blogging regularly—promise!

I hope all of you are having a great summer!

I have been here for four days, and I have eaten more and better in this short amount of time, than I have since the start of 2007. It’s nearly true.  Seriously, though, we’ve been able to unwind and spend time sunning ourselves on the beach, swimming in the Mediterranean Sea, sitting in cafes and restaurants, but today a funny thing happened. My husband and I were driving to the beach, after a very late and lovely breakfast at the Tel Aviv port with my mother-in-law, and the sun was shining and we were both happily anticipating the notion of spending another relaxing afternoon on the beach. Now, most Israeli men must serve in the army here, and so seeing young men in uniform carrying guns (usually M-16s) is quite a common occurrence. Today, however, as we were driving toward the beach, a guy dressed in regular civilian clothing was walking down the middle of the highway. He looked totally normal (aside from the fact that he was walking in the middle of the street), until I noticed that he had a machine gun strapped to his chest, and it was pointed at our windshield. For a moment I blanked and forgot about the mandatory military service and the proliferation of guns in this country. And I got scared. But then I blinked and realized it was probably just a soldier on his day off, fiddling with the shoulder strap of his gun. He wasn’t pointing it at us, he wasn’t behaving in a threatening manner at all.
    And then I was reminded that, in spite of the glorious beaches and the very ordinary city-ness of Tel Aviv, this country is not at all like home.

This week…these last three weeks…oh, what am I saying, this entire year has gotten away from me. Time is going so fast. But, hopefully it will slow down even a tiny bit now, because I’m going on vacation!

I’m leaving soon for Israel. It’s strange to think that I’m going to be on vacation there, when there is, for all intents and purposes, a civil war going on in Gaza. It feels wrong and hard to really comprehend. And it’s just sad.

I will write from abroad…I hope to do some writing while I’m there and much laying like broccoli on the beach.

Stay tuned!

This past weekend was Book Expo America — the biggest book convention of the year. Now, because I wear the hat of a book editor, as well as that of a writer, I usually go. But this year, I got to go as an author. And it was amazing! I did a reading for Scholastic, at a breakfast they hosted, and I also had a signing. The signing was crazy busy! I never expected anything like it, and the line just didn’t end…it just kept going and going, and I felt so incredibly lucky and, to be honest, giddy like a five-year-old, and totally thrilled. Spectacrular.

I realized I haven’t really talked about what Song of the Sparrow is about, or why I wrote it. And so, I thought now might be a good time.

I’ve always loved Arthurian legend, the romance, the adventure, the chivalry. But it always seemed consummately unfair to me that it was only the men who got to run around with swords and slay dragons and go on quests, while the women were, at best, damsels in distress who needed one of those knights to rescue them, or, at worst, villains who were trying to destroy all that is good in the world.

Song of the Sparrow focuses on one of the women from Arthurian lore—she is known as Elaine of Ascolat in some texts, and also as the Lady of Shalott. The first time I saw her, in the Tate museum in London, I was struck by how haunted and beautiful she was. But when I went back to Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem, and to the older stories, I thought she deserves better than her lot — which, if you don’t know — to sum it up, is to fall in love with Lancelot and then die of a broken heart. Lame, right?

And so, in writing this book, I hoped to correct this injustice and give Elaine a more meaningful story.

I did a lot of research into the history of King Arthur and the time during which he would have lived, if he did in fact live. After doing all this reading — and gleefully putting off the actual writing for months! — I decided to set the story a bit differently from the traditional take. Arthur is a war lord who leads the Briains in battle against their various enemies. Elaine lives in his battle camp with her father ad brothers, who are all soldiers of Arthur’s, along with other recognizable names, such as Lancelot, Arthur’s second, Gawain, Tristan, and, of course, Gwynivere.

My next blog post will include a sample chapter or two!

Lately I’ve been thinking about time. When I was younger, hours, minutes, even, seemed endless. A year was an eternity. Five years was inconceivable. But now, time slips away so quickly, so stealthily, I can barely look up from what I’m dong to mark its passage, to notice that half a year has raced past, that it’s not 2006 anymore, that the 90s were more than ten years ago. And this frightens me.

What is it about time? Beyond the body’s need for sleep, time has no natural boundaries. The movement from light to dark or from season to season is cyclical, without beginning or end. I hate sleeping; it’s always felt like such a waste of time. Alas, I get tired. Early. In fact, I’ve been known to fall asleep at dinner tables. More than once. But it’s the marking of an end that bothers me, the end of a day. Why can’t I just keep going, keep working, use the time to indulge in more hobbies? But the days end, and I need sleep.

My grandmother passed away a few weeks ago. She was my last living grandparent — and I was lucky enough to have known all four of them. She was also the grandparent to whom I was closest, even though she lived far away from me. She had a spirit that was filled with gentleness and humor and mischief and spark. I miss her so much. And I miss the time we had together. I mourn for her, and I mourn for that time.

I think about my grandmother in the mornings, often when I am on the subway, on my way to work. I have no idea what summons the memories and thoughts of her. The timing is apropos of nothing, and even though it has happened several times, I am always startled by how intense and painful the emotions are. Right after she died, I was consumed by the idea that her passing truly marked the end of my childhood. That was it. There wouldn’t be any going back; a door had closed. The yearning and the sense of loss I felt for the time lost have faded, although the spot still smarts.

And yet, I continue to allow time to sneak by me and do not fill it as richly as I would like. Life moves so fast, and I am ever searching for ways to slow it down, to grab hold of it by the tail and to just hang on or yank it off its track. Perhaps summer, with the perfume of flowers and birdsong, will help me to stop time, just for a short while.