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I LOVE Fowl Play by Travis Nichols!!! A graphic novel-style picture book, Fowl Play is filled with a fantastic cast of animals, a crime and a great detective agency that goes by the name, "Gumshoe Zoo." And Fowl Play is packed with non-stop idioms. Idioms! In a picture book! And it totally works! I can't wait for school to start so I can read Fowl Play over and over to my students. I also

Many thanks to everyone who participated in this month's blog series! I had a lot of fun gathering candid and heartfelt responses from authors. Lorie Ann asked me to post my own list, so here goes nothing:

In Honor of National Bar-B-Que Month, here is a smalln offering for anyone who has had the misfortune of losing a hotdog to a roving rover on four legs. Hotdogs right off the grill are just so tempting to man or beast.

What Happened To My Hotdog?
By Bill Kirk
(Published in Wee Ones magazine in July/August 2005)

What happened to my hotdog?
Dad cooked it just for me.
And while it popped and sizzled,
I waited patiently.

When it was done, I fixed it,
So it would taste just right.
I set it on the table,
But now it’s out of sight.

I’m looking for my hotdog,
All plump inside its bun.
With ketchup and some mustard,
It glistened in the sun.

So, where’s my missing hotdog?
It’s nowhere to be found.
Is that a splat of ketchup,
I see there on the ground?

Now, something looks suspicious--
I think I see a trail.
Oh no! There goes my doggie.
He’s wagging his short tail.

“Hey, doggie, is that ketchup
And mustard on your nose?
I wonder how it got there--
By hotdog, you suppose?”

What happened to my hotdog?
I guess we know by now.
My doggie found my hotdog.
And made it doggie chow.

April 12—And just like that, we're already on to our second "Two for Tuesday" prompt of the challenge. I know this is a prompt that some poets have been craving, while others probably not so much. Regardless, I did this one on Tuesday to provide some options:

1. Write a form poem. This could be a sonnet, pantoum, lune, or even something as sinister as a--dare I say it--sestina. If you need a list of poetic forms and there rules, click here.

2. Write an anti-form poem. Just as there are poets who love playing with forms, there are poets who think they are the worst thing ever. That's fine. Express (in either free verse or a prose poem) your feelings on writing in traditional forms.

On Formlessness
By Bill Kirk

Could it be some days the poetry
Will be less well formed than others?
I’d have to say, it’s true.
Tonight, my brain itself is a formless blob.
Thus any attempt at poetic form
Will likely have scant chance at success.

Yet, I suppose the very capture of
Any thought or idea takes on
A certain structure, even if drawn
From wordless mush—much as
An artist’s blank canvass will
Eventually move toward an
Expression of artistic form,
Even if very sketchy.

Far be it for me to
Squeeze, mold or force
These words into a shape
They have no interest in taking.
Perhaps words on a page
Will somehow find their natural form
Much as water seeks its own level.
Might formelessness be its own reward?

April 5—For today's prompt, do one of the following:

1. Write a goofy poem.
2. Write a serious poem.

(Note: This one could go either way---you choose.)

Lament To My Absent Muse
By Bill Kirk

It’s dark and cold at 4 a.m.
Yet I can hardly sleep.
Instead of writing poetry
I should be counting sheep.

For truth be told, this rhyme’s gone cold—
My poem is a flop.
No matter what I try to write,
My brain keeps yelling “Stop!”

Oh! What the heck. I think I’ll quit,
And leave my letters lost.
This search for words is getting old
It’s time this tome is tossed.

So, wrinkling up this scribbly page,
I’ll turn off every light.
If dribbly doodle’s all I’ve got,
It’s time to say good night.

Hello to all poets and poets in waiting. April is National Poetry Month and tomorrow (April 1) begins the annual Poem A Day Challenge at Writer's Digest. If you have ever felt the call to write poetry or if you have heard the whispers of the poetic muse perched on your shoulder, now is the time to put pen to paper or digits to keys.

The Poem A Day Challenge is exactly that---write a poem each day for 30 days based on the daily prompts provided by Robert Lee Brewer on the Writer's Digest poem-a-day page. Here is a link to the guidelines for the challenge: (http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/2011/03/01/2011AprilPADPoemADayChallengeGuidelines.aspx). You'll get the hang of it in no time.

So, why bother? Well, apart from uncovering your poetic genius, you will end up with a pile of 30 poems at the end of the month, which is no small accomplishment. With any luck, a few will be really good and a few others will at least be a good start on the way toward something really good. Besides, it's not everyone who can honestly say they have written 30 poems in 30 days.

Forget about those who say, "Who would want to?" Hey, it's a challenge and some people just simply aren't up to it. So, dust off the poetic cobwebs and let's get cracking. Robert Lee Brewer's first prompt will be available tomorrow morning and you have until midnight to wax poetic in response... and so on and so forth.

Show us what you got unless, that is, you're averse to it....

Polonius: What do you read, my lord?

Hamlet: Words, words, words.

– William Shakespeare, “Hamlet,” Act 2, Scene 2

And so we come to #5 in Jane Yolen’s wonderful list of “10 Words Every Picture Book Author Must Know,” which she shared at the SCBWI Winter Conference a few weeks ago: Words.

Here are the three things Jane said about words – and I shall elaborate a bit on each.

1.  Pick them as carefully as a poet – Language is a fundamental part of children’s literature. Word play, rhythm, alliteration, parallelism, refrain, patterns, echoes, onomatopoeia – it’s all about being imaginative and creative with words.  Personification can be effective too – for instance, instead of “the leaves rustled in the breeze,” you might try, “the leaves whispered,” or “the leaves danced.”  Children’s imaginations are often fired by their senses, so incorporating what can be seen, smelled, tasted, heard, or felt to the touch is a powerful way to engage young readers in descriptive narrative.

Above all, look for juicy verbs.  Verbs are a writer’s best friend. They keep the story moving forward, and help us to show through behavior and action rather than tell through description.  Be as creative as you can be in your use of verbs. Keep a list of favorites – and always keep a Thesaurus handy to find better options for the ones that are common, tired, or overused.  Finally, remember that it’s all about economy with picture books. Three words, artfully chosen, will achieve far more than ten general, rambling ones.

2. Children love big words – don’t ‘dumb down’ your language. While we have to keep the age of our reader in mind in terms of what will engage and be relevant to them, we should never talk down to them.  Their focus may be narrow and their vocabulary limited, but their brains are like sponges, expanding with every drop of information we give them.  Using a sophisticated word here and there invites children to ‘stretch up.’ Whether they infer the meaning through association or context – using the surrounding words to understand the meaning of that one – or whether they pause to ask a grown up what a word means, once that meaning is absorbed it becomes part of the ever-expanding vocabulary and is unlikely to be forgotten.

3.  Words can be made up – just do so with care. Harry Potter, Winnie the Pooh, The Hobbit and virtually every book by Dr. Seuss all contain made-up words unique to their worlds and characters.  Shakespeare, in fact, made up thousands of words and phrases that have since become part of our everyday language. Most education scholars and child development specialists would agree that the creative use of words helps a young reader appreciate the power of expression. In seeing the rules of language being bent or challenged, children learn critical-thinking skills and develop their own imaginations. It’s important, however, to use this tool with care. Don’t overdo it, and make sure that if you are using invented words, their intended meaning can be clearly inferred by the reader.

I've been somewhat distracted of late what school getting out, summer coming on and preparations for the National Scout Jamboree (we're down to under 20 days to departure). But with a few days breathing space in the schedule, I'm getting back to my blog after a month-long absence.

Today's entry is a little something for those of you who may feel challenged by texting and are wondering if there's any hope. For those over age 40 who can figure it out, congratulations. For the rest of you who consider texting some kind of torture that ought to be banned as cruel and unusual punishment, bless your hearts. I'm stuck right in the middle of all of you. My thumbs are too big, my nails are too short and I can't see much of anything on those itty-bitty cell phone screens. But not to worry. An English translation is provided below.

OK. So, I admit to I outwardly professing my intent to one day become a texter. I suppose it could happen. But truth be told, I am secretly waiting for someone to invent a cell phone with a circular dial so I can hear the "skrrridge-tick, tick, tick, tick...." sound of the yesteryear telephone dial coming out of my cell phone.

Realizing the likelihood of that happening any time in the near or distant future is slim to none, I herewith offer this short piece in homage to all those under age sixteen apparently born with texting intuition and thumb nails pre-filed to small points. Remember to show a little sympathy for the rest of us who are happy just to grip our cell phones with what may soon be our vestigial opposable thumbs.

Enjoy...


cllN plnz
by bil krk

my dad bawt me a cel ph.
its realy wA 2 QL.
u wont bleev w@ it cn do—
il shO u aftr skool.

it ltz me d/l muzc;
snd pix, gmes n stuf.
it evn hlps me do my math,
n f thts nt nuf,

It hs a dxNre;
n evry countrys map—
jst ask me whr a rivA s.
il fnd it ina snap!

thers O 1 sml prob—
its nm @ ll.
bt sumday mayB I shd lern
to actuly mak a cll.

wrd count: 86

Translation:

Calling Plans
By Bill Kirk

My Dad bought me a cell phone.
It’s really way too cool.
You won’t believe what it can do—
I’ll show you after school.

It lets me download music;
Send pictures, games and stuff.
It even helps me do my Math,
And if that’s not enough,

It has a dictionary;
And every country’s map—
Just ask me where a river is.
I’ll find it in a snap!

There’s only one small problem—
It’s nothing much at all.
But someday maybe I should learn
To actually make a call.

Word Count: 88

A Tale Of Two Burgers
By Bill Kirk

At dinner one spring evening,
The crowd was all aglow,
As conversation sparkled
And food began to flow.

But over in one corner
I saw the oddest sight.
One table with two burgers;
Both waiting for a bite.

One burger kept his wrap on.
I guessed his "friends" were late.
He seemed quite hot and steamy,
Yet not at all irate.

The second Bigger Burger,
Looked anxious and displeased.
He left no doubt about it,
That he was really cheesed.

Then almost in an instant,
I noticed something strange.
Big Burger's disposition
Had made a major change.

For when the soda got there,
Plus ketchup and some fries.
His quibbles turned to nibbles
Before my very eyes.

When, in a slurp, they finished,
Together in one bite,
Just one--the Burger Meister--
Was still around that night.

The smaller burger'd vanished,
And it was plain to see,
One gulp had made that burger
A mealtime memory.

So, if you spot two burgers
That oddly seem sureal,
One "Burger" might be hungry.
The other? Just a meal.

In our intense efforts to solve the Dinosaurs vs. Princesses debate, we are leaving no stone unturned as we gather our facts.   Matt just reported back with a field report based on some intense and prolonged observance of Dinosaurs in thier natural habitat.  His 253 page report will be published as soon as it is peer-reviewed.   Until then, his journal entry for 9-15-09 his been adapted into yet another Word Play entitled “Little Dinosaur’s First Day of School“. 

I bugged Krista while she was on the phone for the required nouns and verbs, so you can be sure that they were completly off the cuff.   Lets see how it turned out!

There once was a Dinosaur named George, who was so jealous when he thought about his first day of school that he faked having a dog so that he wouldn’t have to jump.  When that didn’t work, he hid in the cat, but his momma found him between his baby and the pretty phone.

 

“Why don’t you want to go to school?”  George’s mother asked.  “You’ll learn all about shirts and   ordering. It will be good for you!”

 

“I’m guilty!”  George trembled.  “What if all the other kids pick on me?!”

               

George’s mother dreamed knowingly and raised her dino eyebrow, “I promise they won’t.”

 

“How do you know?”  George asked while trying to pray and escape.

 

“I just do,” said his mother angrily.  George finally smacked, and he went to School with an expensive look on his sword. 

 

All of his stalling made him late, so there was no one in the hallways as he fell blankly to his classroom.   He took a deep engine, and he bravely opened the door to his classroom.  

 

“AAAAAAAAGHHHHHHH!!!” the classroom painted, “A dinosaur!!!!!”

 

George realized that he didn’t need to be afraid of the guitars, they were afraid of HIM!  His momma must have known all along!

It’s your turn to play along.  Check out the Word Play section on our FUN STUFF page!

….

The newest addition to our Fun Stuff page is here!  We are calling the section “WordPlay,” because we aren’t sure whether or not we’re allowed to use the phrase that rhymes with “bad dibs” for copyright reasons.  For those of you who are still scratching their heads, the games work like this: certain words have been replaced in a story with a blank space.  The reader is prompted to insert a random verb or noun in its place with often hilarious results.

The first story we’re offering is called ”Sammy and the Bullies“.  Here’s how my first round went:

• Sammy was a pig who got picked on by his schoolmates.  “Hey, Sammy,” they would chomp, “why don’t you go peel and then eat some mines.

• Sammy decided to tell his teacher.  He went to Miss Anteater’s plank and knocked on it with his elbow.

• “What’s the matter, Sammy,” asked Miss Anteater sitting on her favorite bulldozer.  Sammy told her that the other animals had been slippery to him, and he wanted them to build.

• “If you want the other animals to be nicer,” said Miss Anteater, “you must be humongous and let them know that their teasing makes you feel like a toaster.”

• “That’s a slimy idea!” said Sammy, and he ballooned as he walked over to the grassy bullies.  “Hey,” said Sammy daintily, “I just wanted to tell you that when you hop, it makes me feel droopy.”

• “Gee, Sammy,” said the little snail, “We didn’t know you were so uptight. We’ll never skip again.”

• And so the other animals invited Sammy to flap with them.  Sammy was so happy, he celebrated by dying explosively.

…

I had a moment in church today. It was during the prelude as our organist played Ave Maria. The music was hauntingly beautiful. But what it made me think of was the masterful creativity that went into its composition, much less just the playing of it hundreds of years after it was written. It was awesome, as some might way these days.

That's when I got to thinking about my own level of creativity and what others might consider me good at doing---you know one of those moments when one might reflect on whether one's efforts might be deemed worthy. I mean, I play around on the guitar a little and I like to play with words, particularly words written in rhyme. But how does that stack up, really? Am I good at it or just mildly entertaining---a brief, perhaps clever or humorous diversion but not for so long that it becomes tiresome.

Sometimes, a series of carefully selected notes or chords or a painting or sculpture can do that; can challenge the very supposition that the things we do are a meaningful measure of a particular talent or skill or even knack.

Most days, I think I might settle for knack---either one I in fact may have or one others simply think I have.

If you haven't had a chance to check out the Rhyme of the Month for June on my web site, here it is for your reading pleasure. May your "heres" always be where you want to be and your "theres" be where you are glad you were. Hear! Hear!

"Here And There"
By Bill Kirk

Each one of us is somewhere,
Which could be far or near.
Wherever you may find yourself,
Your where is always "here."

Our "heres" may all be different;
Or, sometimes they're the same.
Remember, where your "here" is now,
Was "there" before you came.

A "here" is quite specific.
It's always in one spot.
So, when you leave your "here" behind,
It's then a "there" you're not.

They say location matters.
I guess they could be right.
For if your "here" is far away,
Then you'd be out of sight.

Although you have but one "here",
I hear there's "theres" to spare.
So, if the "here" you're in gets old,
Just switch your "here" to "there."

By Ashley Bray, Intern Extraordinaire

Few people can get excited over thesauruses like writers can, and as a writer and student myself, I eagerly sat down to take a look at the new Oxford American Writer’s Thesaurus. I was immediately drawn to the Word Notes, which are comments from contributing authors about word entries. I love these notes because they bring you inside the heads of authors to show you just what they are thinking about certain words— a privilege a budding writer almost never gets! I looked up a bunch of notes by David Foster Wallace in light of his recent death, and I wanted to share my favorites.

One of the more interesting notes I came across was for pulchritude, which is a synonym for beauty. Wallace points out that this word is anything but beautiful:

“A paradoxical noun because it means beauty but is itself one of the ugliest words in the language. Same goes for the adjectival form pulchritudinous. They’re part of a tiny elite cadre of words that possess the very opposite of the qualities they denote. Diminutive, big, foreign, fancy (adjective), colloquialism, and monosyllabic are some others; there are at least a dozen more. Inviting your school-age kids to list as many paradoxical words as they can is a neat way to deepen their relationship to English and help them see that words are both symbols for things and very real things themselves.”

Well, Wallace is right about the ugliness of pulchritude. Words like putrid and sepulcher come to mind before beauty ever does. Wallace also points out a very interesting activity that I think appeals to word-lovers just as much as “school-age kids.” I decided to take his suggestion in a different direction and started to make a list of words that do correlate with their meaning. Here’s what I came up with:

• Bedraggled
• Labyrinthine
• Bubble
• Prickly
• Stuck
• Pierce

What words can you think of that are either paradoxical or parallel to their meanings?

Wallace also wrote an awesome entry for hairy. Here’s another word game for you— how many different ways can you think of to say the word hairy?

You’d be surprised at the answer. Wallace writes about 22 different ways (and two additional classifications) to say the word hairy. I won’t list them all here, but I’ll give you a taste of some of the most “hair-raising” (excuse the pun):

• Glabrous: “the loveliest of all hair-related adjectives, means having no hair (on a given part) at all. Please note that glabrous means more baby’s-bottom-hairless than bald or shaved, though if you wanted to describe a bald person in an ironically fancy way you could talk about his glabrous dome or something.” Quite frankly, after that description how could you not want to find a way to use glabrous in your writing?
• Tomentose: “means ‘covered with dense little matted hairs’— baby chimps, hobbits’ feet, and Robin Williams are all tomentose.” Need I comment further on this gem?
• Crinite: “means ‘hairy or possessed of a hair-like appendage,’ though its mainly a botanical term and would be a bit eccentric applied to a person.” I don’t care if it’s eccentric— I smell a story centering on a person with a “hair-like appendage.”

Come on fellow writers, any takers?