Sunshine and Science

Liauids, Solids, and Other Messy Materials is going well at ScienceWorks this week. Dane and Aubrey are attending camp with 18 other 7-10 year-olds, doing projects like "Frankenstein's Hand," "Turning Milk Into Stone," and "Watercolor Holding the Brush in Your Mouth," and having loads of messy fun.

They're having a blast, but that didn't stop Dane from skipping Wednesday's class to go with my friend Jennie and her kids for a swim. (You can do that when your mom's the instructor and camp is free!) Dane swam his heart out and caught frogs from a pond with Dominic and Rees. Jennie says there was some serious boy joy there.

The day before, Dane and Aubrey had gone home from camp with their friends Ruby and Chad for a couple hours of swimming. And tonight, Aubrey's pal Sienna is spending the night: so far the girls and Dane have made fortresses for stuffed animals and cross dressed.

Who could ask for anything more from summer?

The Daykeeper's Grimoire RELEASED!

My new writer-pal Christy Raedeke just published her debut YA novel, The Daykeeper's Grimoire, from her Prophecy of Days series.

In the book, punchy and smart teenage narrator Caity MacFireland takes on an old secret brotherhood that's attempting to sustain a sinister and conspiratorial world order. At her new home, an inherited castle in Scotland, Caity finds out she's an integral part of a prophecy to save the world, and uses the Mayan calendar and other ancient concepts or texts to interpret the prophecy and thwart the brotherhood's plan.

The book is an exciting, well-written and intellectually-stimulating adventure. Kids these days are so lucky to have this in the reading nook.

And the second one promises to be equally good.

I wasn't in the writing group when Christy wrote this first one, but she was kind enough to let me revel in her victory as one of her "Writing Group Buddies" at her recent Bloomsbury reading.

As a group, we were the proudest, giddiest folks in the audience, appreciating the tenacity and talent it took to get there.

From Left to Right, you see Jennie Englund (in green), me (chewing gum, woops), Julie Inada (Christy's long-time friend who gave a kickin' intro that night, referring to becoming hooked on Christy's writing back in 5th grade when Christy would leave notes for Julie in the Girl's Bathroom), Christy herself, and another writer, Marcia, who currently is taking a break from the group.

Christy's from Ashland, and Bloomsbury was packed - with family, friends, and even her former teachers, including her fifth grade teacher who was absolutely beaming.

For my Washington pals, go be inspired at one of Christy's upcoming readings!

*Village Books in Bellingham on June 5th at Noon
*U Village Barnes and Noble in Seattle on June 5th at 5PM

Tell her "Anjie sent me!" if you go - and tell her you'd love to hear more about Mr. Papers, the monkey who communicates through origami.

Just for fun, I've included some pictures of some hubbies and offspring.

Tag-alicious

I've been tagged. This is a big deal to me, because I love to be included! (I've been over this before in this post and this post and this post...)

So, let me begin:

Question 1 - Where were you 5 years ago?
1. May of 2005 we were starting to look ahead to dental school in San Francisco - moving in June, starting school in July;
2. Dane and Aubrey were 3 and 4 and chubby-cheeked and young in ways that only hindsight can reveal;
3. Mick and I were about to drive 30 hours round trip to Marin City (at the edge of Sausalito) over Memorial Day Weekend to apply for an apartment - we were nervous and thought it would be really tough to get in, but it turns out it was no big woop;
4. We were about to have the biggest garage sale of our lives (mostly Mick's quiver of wakeboards) so we could downsize from a 3 BR, 2 BA, 2 car garage to a 2 BR, 2 BA 1 shared garage that cost twice as much;
5. We were about to pack everything we owned into a Hertz rental (with no small help from our focused and fabulous friend Eric Friesen when Mick just stood in the garage turning circles unable to determine where to start) - and the truck would be so full we'd leave our kitchen chairs because they just couldn't smoosh in.

Question 2 - Where would you like to be in 5 years?
1. I would like to have my healthy, loving, brilliant family - Mick, Aubrey, Dane, Sharkles and me - all living in peace and harmony with each other and our environment (I know that sounds cheesy but it's true);
2. I'd like to be teaching in some capacity and writing a lot - with a hundred essays or poems or short stories published in major literary markets and a hot novel I've written in the hands of a publisher;
3. I'd like to possibly add a foster child or an exchange student to our family - which also means I'd like to have a little more room in the house (this one or another snazzy one);
4. I'd like to be fit enough to play ball, ride bikes, hike, camp, run, and climb trees with my kids;
5. I'd like to go places and see things with my family and friends.

Question 3 - What is on your To-Do list today?
1. Pick up In Brief, In Short, and Cheaper By The Dozen at the library;
2. Write, and then study a few good essays;
3. Walk/jog the dog, break a sweat;
4. Make dinner;
5. Blog.

Question 4 - What snacks do you enjoy?
1. Chocolate chips from a bag - the whole bag;
2. Apple slices with lime juice on them;
3. String cheese;
4. Frozen berries with agave and milk;
5. Chocolate chips from a bag.

Question 5 - What 5 things would you do if you were a billionaire?
1. Take in as many kids as I could emotionally care for - and donate money to care for foster kids around the world;
2., 3., 4., 5. I don't think I'm going to get very creative on this one - because I think I'd just keep living the way I do, with maybe a bigger home, a few more clothes, and a bigger travel budget - but other than making sure my kids were adequately taken care of in their education, I'd donate to any cause I felt worthy. Any time. A billion dollars is a lot of money.

Now I'll do some tagging - if any pals feel like playing (remember, I know how nice it is just to be invited):
First, I'll tag Nia Sayers at Summerland Style because she's so freakin' creative and amazing and inspiring that her work deserves a big nod;
Second, I'll tag my pal Jennie Englund because she's my fabulous writer-pal (even though she was already tagged by KJR, who tagged me!);
Third, I'll tag my love bug Shelby Friesen over at Shelby's World because she writes the most spectacular birthday posts - for each of her children - that make me laugh and cry no matter which kid, which year;
Fourth, I'll tag my friends Colin and Angie over at Tadhana - who haven't been posting much since they got married(!);
And Lastly, I'll tag my BFF Karen Urlie, even though she doesn't even have a blog, but she deserves my tag if only because she's read EVERY SINGLE POST I'VE EVER WRITTEN.

Stepping into the Story Garden -- and the Mouth and Some Friends' Houses and the Kennel...

Doesn't that all sound magical???

I'm headed to Redmond, Washington, this weekend for a whirlwind conference. My writer-pal Jennie and I drive the 9 hours north tomorrow, hob-nob with other writers that evening, and then take all-day classes Saturday and Sunday - all in hopes of getting a better grip on the Young Reader's (and Writers) world. In case you're concerned, of course I'm going to sneak a quick dinner in with my one and only Karen on Friday night, but other than that, it's work, work, work. Learn, learn, learn.

Mick is away at the Oregon Dental Association Conference in Portland, Oregon, this weekend, frequenting coffee shops and skate parks in between classes with his pal Justin. Needless to say, because we're doubling up on the adult learning, we're, boo hoo, farming our kids out to family and friends.

Alas, the kids are beside themselves with excitement: Dane gets to spend the weekend with Logan, and Aubrey gets to spend the weekend with her cousins. (Hopefully, she won't bring and attract any sickness -- she's missed three days of school this week with the Flu. Fingers crossed.)

And Sharkles? Sharkles the dog? She's doing some doggie daycare and overnights at the R&R Pet Resort. She should be having herself some fun (even though she'll miss us!) as she plays with other dogs and tuckers herself out for each night of sleep.

PHEW!

I sent my application packet off today to the Society of Children's Book Writers & Illustrators (SCBWI) for the Work-In-Progress Grant. The application required a complete Application Form, my Career Background, a list of How I'd Spend The Money, the First 2500 Words of my Young Adult novel, and a Synopsis.

The total packet could only be 15 pages -- mine was 13 -- and I had to submit 7 perfect packets. The deadline is Monday, so I over-nighted it via UPS this morning.

The winners will be announced in September, so I can forget about the contest for now, but keep working on the project.

There are 4 prize categories:
-General (a catch-all)
-Contemporary (takes place in last 10 years)
-Nonfiction
-Multi-cultural/Minority (tells story from that perspective)

I submitted under that last one.

There will be a $2k grant winner for each of those categories, as well as $500 runners-up awards. After those have been selected, an additional "Unpublished Writer" category will open up, and the remaining applications will be considered under that category to win those same awards.

It was a long haul to manage the odds and ends, but I'm glad I did it. I feel more committed now than ever to the project, and like I have some serious work behind me -- and plenty in front of me, too, of course.

This fulfills one of my goals for this year: to apply for a grant. I think I'll apply for another one through the Oregon Humanities, which is due June 26. The writing sample then is the first 25 pages.

Note: I was reminded again how much I value my community of writers. Jennie emailed/phoned/came over to brainstorm and advise on various sections, Karen offered her understanding as a fellow artist, Maya from my Marin writing group helped me keep my head on straight by weighing in on which 2500 words to send, and my friend Ellen (Notbohm) gave feedback at various stages along the way. This sounds like an acceptance speech. It's not -- at least not in the sense that I've won anything, but maybe it is -- in the sense that I've accepted much-needed help from these smart friends.

JenniePal WriterPal SkirtPal

Jennie Englund and I met at Noble Coffee last summer. I was working on a new chapter for my novel; she was having coffee with a girlfriend. We started talking about writing and teaching (she teaches English 100s and 200s at Rogue Community College) and we hit it off.

We hit it off to the extent that Jennie suggested we be friends. This was rare, and I quote her: "I don't try to make new friends, do I?" she turns with a nod to her coffee friend. Her friend shakes her head, no. "I can't even be a good enough friend to the friends I have, so I'm never looking for new friends. But I want you to be my friend. It has to happen. We have to write together."

It was the funniest, silliest intro I could've had to a new friend in Ashland, and I was all over it.

My family was headed to King Tut in San Francisco for the weekend, so summer felt busy, but Jennie and I kept in touch via email and finally got together for some serious writing at the beginning of fall. This was a couple weeks after I'd seen her in Albertson's wearing an outfit I didn't realize was a costume. Turns out she was dressed like a pirate for the Tree Frog Trek camp, but I thought she wore ruffly shirts and vests for real.

Here's the beauty of this: I've been wanting a serious writer-friend to write with, revise with, and set goals with. Check. Check. And check.

A few weeks ago, Jennie let me read something she wrote a while back and I suggested she submit it to Chicken Soup for the Soul's Christmas edition; I also suggested she submit it to Skirt magazine's holiday contest.

Guess who won honorable mention in the holiday contest???

Yup, that'd be Jennie. Following is her story in full. You can also link to it here at Skirt! Way to go, Jennie! And I'm still keeping my fingers crossed for Chicken Soup - because we all like a paying market now, don't we?

How Sallie Bowles Saved Christmas

by Jennie Englund

­
Flames licked the fireplace door as my mom sat on the sofa, cradling her hot cocoa in her hands. Her blonde hair had long since fallen out from relentless rounds of chemotherapy. Instead, a blue handkerchief covered her head, and a reindeer-printed fleece blanket draped her swollen legs. She still wore mascara‚she always wore mascara. But her thin face and tired eyes reflected the battle she was going to lose.

She took it all in: the stories, the drama, even the fighting. She knew this was her last Christmas.

At 27, I knew it was her last Christmas, too. But my seven younger siblings didn't know it. Maybe some of them chose NOT to know it. And the two littlest‚ my ten year-old sister and four year-old brother‚ had absolutely no way of knowing it.

Ribbons, bows and wrapping paper flew around the room. Photo albums and Lego sets were ooo'ed and ahh'ed over, until the next package was ferociously ripped open. That year, we tore into the gifts like lions at their prey. We were looking for the magic gift—the contents of the one box that would make us forget our mom's suffering, and our own.

It never came.

The next Christmas, the reindeer-printed blanket was folded in the corner of the sofa. No one wanted to open any gifts. We wanted our mom.

But Christmas wasn't about wanting. And it wasn't about sorrow. The rest of our Christmases couldn't be this way. As the oldest sibling, I had to do something. We didn't have our mom, but we did have each other. And for the sake of our dad, who had lost his college sweetheart, I had to bring back Christmas.

As we pushed around ham and mashed potatoes with our forks, an idea came to me. Slipping from the table, I rummaged through my teenage sister's room for sequins and baubles. I fastened a too-tight silver bra over my black t-shirt and threw a feather boa over my shoulder.

There was one clear choice. My husband put in the CD we'd brought from our house: the soundtrack to the 1972 musical, "Cabaret." The sole song to which I knew all the words was the title track. As the trumpets began pumping, I slunk sheepishly from the hallway. My dad nodded. My teenage sister stood up on her chair. The four year-old gaped in wonder and surprise.

Like Liza Minnelli in her role as Sallie Bowles, I began singing tentatively at first. I stood motionless at the unplugged microphone, bathed in the beam of a powerful flashlight. Of course I asked myself what I thought I was doing, or even what I was undoing. Was this irreverent? Flat-out blasphemy? I mean, I was the responsible one. And even with all the sequins and baubles and boa and bra, I felt naked, completely naked.

But I could feel the eyes on me‚desperate for the return of holiday folly.

The music picked up pace. Sallie's voice picked up pace. And my confidence somehow adjusted accordingly.

I bumped my hips and twirled my necklaces and wrapped the boa around my brother's neck. My dad was laughing‚really laughing, îand every chuckle was melting the previous year of pain. My teenage sister danced on her chair. The four year-old clapped his hands against his thighs.

THEY were inspiring ME.

By the end of the show tune, I was belting out the lyrics, with my legs kicking up in the air:

"Life is a cabaret, Old Chum.

Only a Cabaret, Old Chum.

And I love‚ a cabaret.‚"

I held the last note until the drum stopped.

And then I collapsed forward.

The cheers and whistles were deafening. It had worked. "Cabaret" couldn't bring back our mom, but it could begin to restore a broken family's joy and hope.

LEGO CLUB

My new friend Jennie is throwing a LEGO party at her house today. It was her kids' idea. They made a flyer and only invited their friends who were gonzo for LEGOs, although her middle schooler wanted to post the flyer around the school. (Yikes!)

Aubrey's going to the book store with Grammy and Grandad - she wasn't feeling the LEGO fever.

Dane, on the other hand, is already planning on hosting the next one.