A writer, educator, book addict, geek, and occasional dog rescuer

Dear Ms. Creech,

This is a thank you note mixed with a confession. Read on, and you’ll understand.

First, I have to say that I loved your talk at the New England SCBWI Conference and was thrilled to finally meet you in person.

So thank you for that. But that’s only part of the thank you.  Before I get to the rest, I have to do the confession part.

So…you know that poem you have on your website? The one that explains to teachers why you can’t accept any more invitations for school visits this year?  It starts like this:

My phone is ringing

and the fax is going
and sometimes I am sick

(I hope you are not sick!)
and my car needs fixing

and I have to go
to the grocery store
and do the laundry

and clean up messes
and I am supposed to be
writing a new book
which takes a lot of time
to think about and
to write all those little words…

 

(The rest of Sharon’s why-I-can’t-visit poem  is here,  for those of you who are not Sharon and don’t know how it goes.)

You might not remember this, but a whole bunch of years ago – maybe nine or ten – you got an email from a teacher begging you to requesting that you consider making an exception to your no-more-school-visits-this-year policy.  It was written as a poem, too, because she thought you might like that, and she figured it was worth a try.  She doesn’t have that exact poem any more, but it went something like this.

We know that you are busy

Answering your phone

And buying food

and doing laundry

and sneezing

(Bless you)

And writing books we adore..

But we love-love-love those books so much

And wondered if you might sneak away

To visit us anyway.

It would just be for a day,

And then you could go back

To your grocery-shopping

Laundry-doing, phone answering, sneezing life

(Bless you)

To write more magical stories

For us all to love.

 

That teacher figured it was a long shot. (She used to be a reporter and understood all about deadlines.) But your poem inspired her poem, just like that, and before she knew it, she’d gone and hit the send button.

Your schedule was too busy to visit.  (She figured it would be.) But you made time to write back. You told her you loved her poem, that it made you smile.

And that made her whole teacher-day.

That teacher was me.

And that explains why I had to sit down when you tweeted this picture last week, saying you found your book in good company at the bookstore.  There’s your book on the left, and beside it, Grace Lin’s book, and then mine. Roald Dahl and Karen Cushman are there, too, just for good measure.

 

Thanks for making my day.   Again.

.

Yesterday was the perfect day to smell lilacs and pass under the white blooms of dogwoods on my way to the Smith College Greenhouse. The museum area is currently devoted to a show called From Petals to Paper: Poetic Inspiration from Flowers. Poems printed on placards and arranged according to flower types were selected by Liliana Farrel and Janna Scott, class of ’13, who were inspired by Annie Boutelle’s poetry workshop. Walls featured irises, tulips, and other spring flowers. The section on daffodils offered Wordsworth wandering lonely as a cloud, along with Robert Herrick, Amy Lowell, and Alicia Ostriker giving the flowers a political context. Poets including Li-Young, Mary Oliver, and Louise Gluck show flowers as solace, taunting, sensuous, exuberant, or demure.


A small room was devoted to Smith alum, Sylvia Plath. We see a draft of Among the Narcissi filled with cross-outs and new words, with still more lines and notes from an editor at The New Yorker, then we see it published in the magazine.


David Trinidad had given us a brief introduction to both Sylvia Plath and tulips in his amusing and profound poem The Red Parade. Here we find Sylvia Plath’s Tulips on the wall and can also listen to a recording on a television. The poem tells of a red gift in a stark hospital room at a time when the narrator felt as if of nurses were claiming her clothes, the anesthetist her history, and the surgeons her body, so that I believed the line near the end: “Tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals.” I like the poem, but am glad I’m a person who can receive tulips and simply say “Thank you, what a gorgeous color!” The recording was made in 1961, two years before Plath would die by her own hand at age thirty, leaving two children.


This heart-tugging show is open until the first weekend of September.

By Cynthia Leitich Smith
for Cynsations

Divya Srinivasan on Octopus Alone: an interview by Chris Barton from Bartography. Peek: "'Loner' seems such a negative word, and so definitive. I liked showing a character who loves her home, but realizes she needs some space, and who then ends up finding a place that feels all her own, like a precious secret."

Finding the Perfect First Sentence by Jessica Brody from Adventures in YA & Children's Publishing. Peek: "Sometimes, as a writer, all you get is one page, one paragraph or even one sentence to hook a reader. So it’s crucial to pick the right opening."

Physical Attributes Entry: Butts from The Bookshelf Muse. Peek: "Physical description of a character can be difficult to convey—too much will slow the pace or feel 'list-like', while too little will not allow readers to form a clear mental image."

Saying "No" to an Editor by Darcy Pattison from Fiction Notes. Peek: "You can refuse a contract for any number of reasons. Money, vision for the published manuscript, an unkind word. You never have to sign a contract."

Where Are All the Black Boys? by Varian Johnson from They Call Me Mr. V. Pek: "Either people will think it's not relevant to them because it features a black boy. Or they won't buy it because they'll think it's about slavery or racism. Or people won't buy it because it's not true Black History Month material." Note: don't miss the continuing conversation in the comments. See also 2013 Middle Grade Black Boys: Seriously People? and Judging Covers by Andrea Davis Pinkey.

Will Konigsberg's "influential" choice

Author Insight: Books with Influence from Wastepaper Prose. Peek: "What do you feel is the most widely influential book you’ve read in the last few years?"

An Ongoing Discussion, an Ongoing Question by Charlesbridge editor Julie Ham for CBC Diversity. Peek: "Can authors or illustrators write about or illustrate cultures and races different from their own?" See also Diversity in the Caldecott Winners & Honors (Or Lack Thereof) from Children's Literature Network.

What If? A Method for Developing Ideas by Elizabeth S. Craig from Mystery Writing is Murder. Peek: "You can brainstorm this way. You can even outline this way. You can get yourself out of plot holes this way."

Asian Pacific American Heritage Month in Children's Literature from Colorín Colorado. Peek: "...celebrates family traditions and the rich diversity of Asian and Pacific Americans with books, activities, and a variety of resources and ideas for ELL (English language learners) educators."

Genre Bending/Blending by Brian Yansky from Brian's Blog. Peek: "There's something inherently rebellious about writing fiction. And there are writers who find themselves, even if they begin writing in a certain genre they love to read, wandering."

Guest Editor Danny Fingeroth on Submitting Graphic Novels from DearEditor.com. Peek: "...having pages of the story drawn and lettered to include with the proposal is generally a good idea, although there is the chance that some editors may not like the look of the art, and so may reject the story even if they like the writing, and even if you make it clear you would be willing to work with another artist."

Cynsational Giveaways

• Ball by Mary Sullivan (PB)


• Nothing But Blue; Me, Penelope & Country Girl, City Girl by Lisa Jahn-Clough (YA)(3 books!)

The winner of Feral Nights by Cynthia Leitich Smith was Amanda in London, and the winner of Eternal: Zachary's Story by Cynthia Leitich Smith, illustrated by Ming Doyle, was Brandon in Florida.

See also Interview with Joy Preble & Giveaway of The Sweet Dead Life from Cari's Book Blog.

This Week at Cynsations

• Sharron L. McElmeel on Creating an Author/Illustrator Website with Teacher-Librarian Appeal


• New Voice Tamera Will Wissinger on Gone Fishing: A Novel in Verse


• Shirley Reva Vernick on Defining Success


• New Voice Kit Grindstaff on The Flame in the Mist

More Personally

Here's a peek at my comings-and-goings last week in the Austin children's-YA lit scene.

At the YAB Fest reception with Jessica Lee Anderson, P.J. Hoover & Danny Woodfill of The Book Spot in Round Rock.

Julie Dinkel Woodfill of The Book Spot & author-editor Madeline Smoot

Author E. Kristin Anderson & librarian Jen Bigheart

Authors Cory Putnam Oakes & Krissi Dallas

Jen & author Lindsey Scheibe

Authors Lindsey Lane & Shana Burg at the Austin SCBWI monthly meeting

With authors Susie Kralovansky & Bethany Hegedus

Author-speaker Lynne Kelly

As for this weekend, Joy Preble will speak and sign The Sweet Dead Life at 3 p.m. May 18 and Lindsey Scheibe will speak and sign Riptide at 2 p.m. May 19 at BookPeople in Austin.

See also Cynthia Leitich Smith on Eric Gransworth's If I Ever Get Out of Here (Arthur A. Levine/Scholastic) from Debbie Reese at American Indians in Children's Literature.

Personal Links

• Krissa Hillman Created Cupcakes for Literacy


• Tarot for Writers


• Carol Lynch Williams & WIFYR


• Blog Tour: Sirens in the Time of Gatsby (featuring Janet S. Fox)


• Launching a Book with a Tea Party by Catherine Stier


• What's the Point? Five Writers Offer Lifelines for MFA Despair


• Astronauts Set to See "Star Trek Into Darkness" in Space

Cynsational Events

YA lit readers! Join Cynthia Leitich Smith at 6:30 p.m. May 25 at Round Rock Public Library.

Join Cynthia and Greg Leitich Smith at 11 a.m. June 11 at Lampasas (TX) Public Library.

Join authors Cynthia and Greg Leitich Smith, Nancy Werlin and ICM Partners literary agent Tina Wexler at a Whole Novel Workshop from Aug. 4 to Aug. 10, sponsored by the Highlights Foundation. Peek: "Our aim is to focus on a specific work in progress, moving a novel to the next level in preparation for submission to agents or publishers. Focused attention in an intimate setting makes this mentorship program one that guarantees significant progress." Special guests: Curtis Brown agent Sarah LaPolla, authors Bethany Hegedus and Amy Rose Capetta.

Whew! I hit my big rewrite deadline this Wednesday, exactly on time...and it feels good. Guess what else happened? We found a new house! We're still waiting to hear final confirmation that all the credit checks, etc., have gone through, but with luck, we should be able to move in exactly a month.

...Which will mean that we're moving when I'm 8 months pregnant. Eep! Plus we're moving into a smaller house, so we need to do a massive purge of stuff beforehand (not just books anymore!), not to mention getting the whole house clean and organized for the movers to work with...

But whatever! Sometimes we just need to stop and be happy about what we've got. Right now, I am happy that my pre-submission rewrites for Low Road are finally done, and we have a good house to move into before the new baby comes. Those are both really big sources of satisfaction and relief! (And please wish the book luck as it flies out into the publishing world!)

Also, about an hour after sending off my rewrite, as a reward for myself, I started reading an e-ARC of Jo Knowles's new book, Living With Jackie Chan - and oh, I fell in love. It is wonderful. You can read my full review on Goodreads, but here's the short version: if you're a fan of Sarah Dessen or just a fan of great characters, heartfelt stories, and a strong narrative voice, you will love this book. It's my favorite of all of Jo's novels so far, which is saying a lot.

I gave myself yesterday as a day off, because I needed it after the last, manic two and a half weeks of super-revision. I met a friend for cake at my favorite new cake café in town - tea and apple sponge cake, mmm! Afterwards, I helped MrD make a fun craft project. Then I spent the evening hanging out with more friends at a fun clothes-swap event, laughing and gossiping, eating more cake, drinking (nonalcoholic) apple ginger beer and taking home a sparkly new scarf, a knee-length waterfall cardigan (that luckily falls around my massive pregnancy belly!), and a sparkly beaded bag.

This morning, it was time to get serious again. I wrote 3,043 words of my next freelance project, which is due in just two and a half weeks. This weekend, I need to sort and clean the house like the madwoman - and, if I can, write another 2,000 freelance words as well, even though I won't have any long writing sessions to do it in. I am Back to Work, in every possible way...

But it's good to take the time to celebrate. It really is.

These three kittens go up for adoption today.

1. The animal shelter where I volunteer has a bake and plant sale tomorrow, so I'm baking this morning. We have a group of kittens going up for adoption this morning, too. Three litters of kittens were found in a plastic tote and brought to us a week ago. The story was on all our local TV stations, and lots of people have inquired about the cats and kittens. So when I drop off my donations to the sale, I think it will be a busy place!

2. I'm off to South Carolina on Monday for several days of school visits. I'm bringing the South Carolina Picture Book Award medal for Hot Rod Hamster with me to show the kids.

3.  It's exciting to see my garden coming to life again. The rhubarb looks very happy where I planted it. :-)

4.  My critique partners and I have rented a cottage on a lake for 5 days in June to do some writing. I'm looking forward to getting back to writing. I have revisions on an early reader and a chapter book to do, and I assume I'll see First Pass pages for Half a Chance soon. I also want to draft a new middle-grade novel this summer. I have no idea yet what that novel will be about, but I'm anxious to find out.

5.  Maine has officially flipped the switch from mud season to GORGEOUS. Everything is really beautiful now.  Here are two of my local public libraries.


Curtis Memorial Library, Brunswick, Maine. Photo by my husband, John


Patten Free Library, Bath, Maine. Photo by my husband, John

This is not a fitness blog, I promise

I just need to do a race recap.


The Broad Street run is a ten mile race through Philadelphia in a straight line from Einstein hospital to the Philadelphia Navy Yard. About 40,000 people do it every year. It was The Thing I'd set my sights on late last year when I realized that I was getting less fat and more capable. Ten miles seems like a ridiculous distance and I wanted to do it mostly because it had seemed absolutely impossible at one time and then possible, however unlikely....

When I arrived at the starting line though I began to worry. City hall marks the half way point, and despite it being gigantic and looming, it was so far away that I couldn't see it. I'd never run in a straight line like that before. I'd run in loops and I'd always been able to see the next place in the loop, realizing not only that I'd have to keep running until I got to that point that I couldn't see, but also that when I got there, I'D ONLY BE HALF WAY was freaking me out. My training had been Not Good, since I'd fractured my tibia I had only very slowly come back to running, the longest I'd run in the last two months was five miles the week before, five difficult miles. I wasn't sure if I'd have the stamina and I wasn't sure that I wouldn't re-injure myself -- in fact, I wasn't sure if my fracture had healed (spoiler: I make it and nothing breaks).




clickenzee to try and find city hall


I was right at the very back of the pack, in fact, out of 40,000 people, only about 100 were behind me. The big lesson for next year was "bring a disposable sweat shirt and sweat pants" -- it was freaking COLD and they tell you to be there long, long before you actually need to be there. They suggested I get there by 6:45 or so which was a good two hours before the race starts. Next time, I'll pull into town around 8:00.

Finally the starters gun goes off, but it's so far away that we can't hear it from the back of the line. It takes 20 minutes, maybe more for the back of the line to actually get to the starting line but finally I was off. All along the way through North Philly people line the streets, waving and cheering, it was great. After about half a mile I started passing the first people who'd stopped running and started walking but I was cautious about going too fast. I wasn't sure if my leg would hold up -- I hadn't done a long run since the fracture -- which made my training a nightmare, and I didn't want to turn into one of the people who had to stop, so I loped along with 10 minute 45 second miles.




Clickenzee to Embiggen!


There are people all along the route, and every sleepy-eyed garage band in Philly is set up on a corner playing Counting Crows covers and eventually you pass the Temple University marching band (not marching) with baton twirlers performing amazing feats of dexterity, playing "Eye of the Tiger" (possibly over and over and over again) and the whole thing is like some grand party. It's somewhere after mile three that people start to space themselves out and you're not really passing people or getting passed too much, you're just trotting along. It was around here we passed two injured people, one had fallen in a pothole and was being carried off by friends -- the other had twisted his ankle and was limping defeatedly towards the El stop. I asked if he needed a train token, he waved me off and said his father was coming to pick him up and went back to looking sad and injured. To me, being so worried about the same thing myself, it seemed like a catastrophe.

Finally, at mile 5, city hall looms up and you realize that you're half way. I got much more enthusiastic at this point. I'd been promising myself to hold back judgement until I got to seven miles, but at five I felt pretty good which was encouraging.




Clickenzee to Embiggen!


At mile six my running partner said "I just hi-fived (former Philly Mayor and Pennsylvania governor) Ed Rendell!" "Where?!" I said. "About a block back? Do you want to turn around?" -- of course I wanted to turn around. So I ran back a block, and spotted Big Ed on the side of the street hi-fiving people & wearing a Boston uniform.

Palms were slapped and I continued to mile seven with a celebrity charge. Also, trillian_stars was waiting to cheer me on somewhere between mile six and mile seven which was a great thing. It's kind of hard to express just how happy it makes you when perfect strangers shout "you're crushing it! go go go!"




Clickenzee to see Big Ed even bigger





Big psychological charge by being on the other side of City Hall,
plus having Trillian Stars cheering.





At mile 7 I saw someone holding up a sign that said "only three more miles to go!" I was tired but that sign made me realize that now it was ony a 5k, and I can run 5k while clipping my nails now, it's no longer a big deal. That amped me up, and my running companion who decided that now was the time to put the burn on and he shot off in front of me. I would have been perfectly content to keep going at the same speed, but he saw this as our opportunity to pass a lot of people so I gasped and tried to keep up.




Clickenzee to see me surge through mile 8 or something.
Also note my weird messed up walrus flipper of a right foot.


The last three miles weren't all that fun. My hands got a little numb, I felt really tired, but all around me were people walking, they'd just stopped and I wasn't going to stop, even though it felt pretty bad the last mile. Eventually I saw the finish line about half a mile ahead. We surged through the chute with what I felt was the last bit of anything I had and there was someone standing with an armful of medals handing them out to people. I took mine and felt incredibly, indescribably happy. Everything started to go white, like the world was powerfully over-exposed. Someone handed me a plastic bag filled with food and a bottle of water. I walked out onto the grass and things kept getting brighter and finally went purple and my legs were wobbly. I realized I was going to fall over if I didn't sit down, so I sat in the grass and started eating the junk food out of the bag. It tasted pretty good. There was a 270 calorie "breakfast bar" from local vendors TastyKake which was ... freaking incredible. And I ate a banana and a bag of potato chips. There was no cell signal so I couldn't text Trillian to let her know I was finished.

Later I discovered that I was suffering from something called "Orthostatic Hypotension" paired with or causing another thing called "Exercise Associated Collapse" (conveniently called EAC) which happens a lot at endurance events and is mostly temporary. It's caused by blood pooling in the lower extremities -- when running the action of running helps circulate the blood, when you stop, it doesn't return as quickly and not enough gets to your brain. There are several recommended solutions to this, one is to keep walking, briskly, at the end of your run, the other is to lay down and elevate your legs. This is sort of what I did, but I substituted "eating candy" for elevating my legs.

As the crowd started to thin out I found Trillian and we watched the very end of the race come through the finish line -- the very end of the race is made up of all of the routes bicycle cops and golf carts they use (presumably) to pick up injured runners. When the bike cops and golf carts pass you, you're not a racer anymore, you become a pedestrian. I wonder if they shut down the finish line and stop handing out medals as the last golf cart crosses the line or if some kind soul stays there to see if anybody crawls up.

Anyway. When I got home I printed out a photo of myself at the finish line and mailed it to my sports medicine doctor.

I started the race with about 100 people behind me, and I came in 26,262th. At 1:50:19, my time was about double that of most of the people in my running club, but I realized that somewhere in there, I still managed to pass about twelve thousand people. Go little walrus flipper. Go me. My only goal was to finish, and I finished.

So there you have it. Last October I was fat and out of shape and today I ran ten miles. In the interrum I survived a fractured leg and various aches and weirdos at the gym and I feel pretty good about myself. Plus I have a medal. My final thought is this: Pin your goal in a place that seems possible, though very difficult, and work towards it relentlessly. The view from the top of the mountain is worth it.

I will now shut up about exercise for a while. Have a swell day.




Have I shown you my medal? Clickenzee to see it LARGER!

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[Roller Derby Portraits]

On Tuesday I finished a two-day visit at Colegio Roosevelt, the American international school in Lima. Librarian John Kurtenbach arranged a great schedule for myself and author Julia Durango, who's traveling with me. Julia saw the pre-K/K classes and did a joint presentation with me to grades 1-2. I saw grades 3-8. Attentive and enthusiastic audiences. A special shout-out to the Grade 6 group (which included a couple classes of 7th graders), all of whom read A LONG WALK TO WATER--they were my final presentation and a terrific finish to my time at the school.

Julia and I had arrived on Friday evening, so we'd had the weekend to explore Lima before starting work on Monday. On Saturday, John took us to two museums, including the beautiful Museo Larco, and introduced us to Pisco, the Peruvian national beverage. Sunday, we shopped the Indian markets and had dinner at Huanca Pucllana, a restaurant that overlooks an archaeological site that's dramatically lit at night.

I'm awaiting photos from the school; in the meantime, a few photos from our first days:



Greeting visitors at the Museo Larco: a Peruvian Hairless dog, a native breed. Never seen anything like it!




The ruins at Huanca Pucllana in Lima.




At the Huanca Pucllana restaurant, assorted appetizers. In the foreground, chicharrons de cuy. Cuy is one of Peru's most famous dishes. (Look it up...)




In the library at Colegio Roosevelt, pointing to the photo of previous visiting author Laurie Halse Anderson.


On the way from the Cusco airport to the Sacred Valley:



Llama llama woolly mama!




Julia and baby llamas.


It's difficult to post photos from here, so I'll probably wait until I get home to post more. And there *will* be more.... This is truly an amazing place.

Taking a quick break-within-a-break to share the breaking news as it, uh, breaks. (Clearly, it's obvious why I need some quiet time in the writing cave. Carry on.)

Upcoming:

There will be a contest announced next week involving this:



Curious? Intrigued? Can't wait? Stay tuned!

Ongoing:

Last chance to sign up to be a part of the arc tour hosted by Wastepaper Prose and PageTurners! Sign ups close at the end of the week (tomorrow) so clicken to join the parade!

If you miss that opportunity, know that my I ♥ Book Bloggers Giveaway is still going on, should you want a chance to get a signed arc, 10 bookmarks and a bit of secret swag. There are arcs waiting to find good homes. While others will be at BEA and GoodReads and Netgalley soon, here's your chance to get Book One of the Twixt first.

Aaaand amusing:

I got the following tweet yesterday:

@dawnmetcalf I wondered if there was an excerpt of Indelible yet available. The narration, is it in the first person singular?

So I thought I'd answer here:

Alas, unlike every other YA author on the planet, I tend not to write in 1st person POV, but in 3rd. Indelible is not in 3rd person omniscient as I did with Luminous, but 3rd person focused, specifically on the main character, Joy Malone. I have stories which I've written in 1st person, but I was more comfortable with this one being in 3rd. I never thought this was unusual until I started writing specifically for a YA/MG market (something that sprang up over the course of my being a YA to a NA to a whatever-I-am-now [My brain rebels at calling myself an "adult" despite the fact that I have a house, a job, a spouse and two small people who look vaguely like my husband and call me "Mom."]) and people started to remark on it. I guess this makes me stand out in the crowd? Trust me, if you ever met me in person, I tend to stand out anyway.

As far as the excerpt, I'm happy to oblige with this exclusive clip from INDELIBLE:

JOY MARCHED QUICKLY down the hall, leading Inq away from the lunchroom and other people.
    “What are you doing here?” Joy asked under her breath. Salted soy butter stuck in her throat.
    “Just visiting,” Inq said. “I thought I’d bring you this.” She held up the laminated thumbs-up sign, its key chain dangling off her palm: Mr. Soares’s missing hall pass. Joy snatched it back. Inq grinned. “You’re welcome.”
    “Thank you,” she said. Checking the halls and the doors and the wall-mounted cameras, Joy retreated from the more congested parts of the school.
    “Isn’t there somewhere you need to be?” Joy whispered.
    “Need is such a human word.” Inq pouted. “Want and need are so subjective. I don’t find them very useful.” Joy turned a corner. Inq followed. “Where are you going?”
    “My locker,” Joy improvised, hoping that no one could see her talking to herself.
    “Well, that does sound important.” Joy bit back her retort. Inq sounded bored, and she was in no mood for bored Inq, which promised to be both dangerous and highly annoying. Inq hadn’t been too happy when they’d last been at Graus Claude’s, and Joy was still feeling emotional after her conversation with Stef. Prolonged exposure did not bode well.     Joy picked up the pace, skidding to a halt in front of her locker.
    “What do you want?” she whispered over her shoulder.
    Inq tipped her pixie face to the side as Joy dialed her combination. “Well, I just thought....”
    Joy pushed up the handle and darkness slammed down.
    Stunned, Joy glanced around in the heartbeat that followed, the flash in her eye a weak firefly in
sudden shadow. She squeezed the locker handle. It was solid and, presumably, real. She was in her school hallway, instantly transported into night. The world was coated in a thick film of heavy, brooding gray, but it wasn’t nighttime. The few people between classes were stuck where they stood. A dropped pen hung in midair. The hall clock hands frozen at 11:47.
    A thick, curving line held a concentrated darkness, as if a circle had been burned with gasoline on the floor. Joy was trapped inside a bubble—everything beyond it as still as a held breath.
    Except Inq.
    Inq struggled to her feet. She looked almost as shocked as Joy felt. Her dark, colorless eyes blinked rapidly as she frowned.
    “Joy?” Inq called, her voice warped as if underwater, echoing weirdly although she was barely six inches away. “Are you okay?”
    Joy waited for the sound of her words to fade before answering.
    “Yes,” she said. Her voice sounded normal to her. “I think so.” She let go of the locker door, but nothing changed. The weight of the gray silence was like a deepwater dive. “What happened?”
    “I don’t know,” Inq confessed. The sound seemed mismatched, penetrating the bubble a long second after her mouth moved. “It’s a trap.”
    “A trap?” Joy stretched out to grab Inq through the veil, but hit something not quite solid that sparked. Joy hissed, clenching the feeling of electric ant bites from her fingers. Pain lit the fear inside her. She stared at Inq. “Get me out.”
    “I don’t know...” Inq sounded upset, worried, for the first time Joy had known her. And now was a bad time to start. “I don’t think I can.”
    “Yes, you can!” Joy said. “Get me out! Try!” She held out her hand as if Inq might dare to take it, but the Goth girl shook her head and splayed her fingers as if she were waving goodbye. Joy’s heart thudded wildly. “Ink...”
    “Don’t call him,” Inq warned. “He’d appear inside with you, and we need to be sure we can get you both out first.” She glanced over the fiery line, her mouth tight and grim. “Hang on.”

;-)

And, lastly, I leave you with this smile for the rest of the day. It never fails to crack me up!



*pulls blankets over head*
*pretends to be a turtle-turtle*
*resumes typing*

I'm always honored when a child writes a letter to me for the "Letters About Literature" contest.  Each state names three state winners whose letters go on to compete nationally. I've had many state winners for Rules, but this is the first one for Touch Blue.

Zoe is a sixth grader in North Carolina, and here's an excerpt from her letter:

"Most importantly, I learned blessings do not always come in neat packages. Tess planned for Aaron to be exactly how she w...anted him to be. But while she was planning and checking the details, she missed what Aaron needed most. Aaron came looking for love and acceptance. Tess was too focused on her own plan to notice. She had plenty of love to give him if she had just opened her eyes. That’s exactly what I did. My perspective opened to include the real struggles of people around me; my world grew bigger and became more like reality. I have been thoroughly touched by your work, Touch Blue. I’m glad to have a new outlook that includes looking for all of the unlabeled blessings around me."

You can read the entire letter here:

http://statelibrary.ncdcr.gov/ld/services/nccftb/letters/Vestal_1.pdf