Winter Gathering

Woke up to frost all around, sparkling and beautiful, on the grass and trees and glimmering on my strawberry plants.

Winter solstice here, once again. Had a holiday party Sunday night, with food and drink and caroling and lighting the menorah, all to drive back the dark, and glory in the cozy center in the depths of winter.

And before the cold could strike everything, we'd brought in the bounty of the back yard. The persimmons gathered, hung and drying, thanks to our son Felix. These ridiculously large squash, cut and stewed and pureed.





And flourishing in the garden, the sturdy, defiant Meyer's lemon tree, perseveres despite the cold.

Folk and blues singer Odetta dies

Last week, the astonishing folk singer Odetta died. There's a lovely review of her life in the New York Times... They title it "Odetta, voice of Civil Right Movement Dies at 77." Please scroll down on the NYT page to the video of a recent interview with her. She's already old, very old, for the interview, but when asked to sing, she closes her eyes, dips down her chin, and then, up with her chin and she sings... incredibly. Her voice is so percussive and rich. She is a big part of my family lore. When I was little, she came to visit us on the farm we lived on and my dad took astonishing photos of her. We often had her music playing.

As I've been writing books, she's been with me. A friend gave me a tape of her original recording at the Blue Angel in Sausalito. I worked my father's photo into my book on Woody Guthrie. And just two days ago, I wrote about her discovering Pete Seeger asleep in a big tent on the march they had both joined, Dr. King's Selma to Montgomery march for the vote in 1965.

There is lots of end-of-life joys and trials around me right now. My parents live about a mile away, and my mother is bed-bound, and on hospice. The great grace is that she is no pain. Our brother-in-law, Bernard, is very, very ill. He and my sister live with my parents. And in a separate apartment, our son Felix and his girlfriend live at the house. Felix gardens with my dad in the day (they have a ripping garden full of winter vegies and two huge, homemade greenhouses), and goes upstairs to check on my mom every evening, taking his guitar and singing songs to her. Today Felix called me from his cell phone. He and Sasha were just taking a walk in the Mountain View cemetery nearby, and he wanted to know where the family plot was.

Dying can involve a whole family, the sadness and hopeless waiting and caretaking and beautiful, unexpected moments of grace in it all.

NCTE photos

Run right over to Laurie Halse Anderson's blog for terrific photos of NCTE/ALAN authors. I knew I'd find good photos soon!

Thanks so much, Laurie!

NCTE San Antonio, financial melt down in publishing

Just back from San Antonio, and the exhilaration of NCTE, National Council of Teachers of English. I did a panel with some fantastic non-fiction children's writers: Marc Aronson, (very cool blog on School Library Journal) Tanya Bolden, and Tanya Stone. Great writers, highly opinionated. Fast-paced discussion about how we work, how to use our books in the classroom, all moderated by Teri Lesesne, who managed to keep us all on track!

Of course, the one thing I forgot to pack was my camera. So I don't have any pictures to show. But spirits were high as I rambled around the floor.

But I think everyone was wondering what NCTE would be like next year with the financial melt down that is going on. Want some info and ideas what you can do? Zip over to Editorial Ass today to check out her blog on what's happening in the publishing industry and how each of us can do one. small. random. act. of. kindness. to keep the kettle boiling. She's an amazing blogger, an editor who writes beautifully and with heart and lots of info. I always love her posts.

Selma Alabama and Obama's unsung heros

This week I've been in Alabama interviewing people who were children and young adults on the 1965 civil rights march for the vote. These people are some of the unsung heros Obama praised in his presidential acceptance speech ("and on a bridge in Selma..."). They marched and sang and were beaten and jailed. Released, they went out and marched again. Their courage provided the news coverage to outrage Americans and give President Johnson the power to get the Voting Rights Act through Congress.

On Tuesday November 4th I was in Selma. It was a historic day to be waiting to hear the outcome of our election. People excited, anxious, hopeful.

Getting out the vote, in the original get-out-the-vote town.

At eight pm I joined a silent candlelit vigil walking across the Pettus Bridge. Faces beautiful in the flickering candlelight. We gathered at the foot of the bridge in a circle, moving in together as Amelia Boynton, in her 90's, walked to the center to share her memories. On the original Bloody Sunday march in 1965 she was struck down by the sheriff's posse and lay by the side of the road in a swirling mist of tear gas.

Check out this wonderful photo taken by Rene Johnston of the Toronto Star:

http://www.thestar.com/fpLarge/photo/530676

We listened, quiet and hushed. Suddenly someone called out: "Obama's taken Pennsylvania!" People yelled and cheered and wept and we clambered back across the bridge, noisy and relieved and joyous.

David Almond, his book Skellig and music

I love the feeling when a book clings to me -- I finish it, put it down, and find I am still partly in the imaginary book world days later. Lovely.

And a big favorite of mine is Skellig. Even thinking of Almond's book right now, I can slip into Skellig's world. I just found this great interview by Almond where he talks about the importance of sounds and the music in his head -- part of how he creates the magic.

"When I wrote Skellig - set in the streets of Newcastle - my mind was filled with sounds: the creaking of a dilapidated garage, the scuttlings and scratchings inside, a baby's heartbeats, her breath, the songs of blackbirds, the cheeping of chicks, the hooting of owls, the dawn chorus, the voice of a girl quoting William Blake, the sound of the city beyond a small suburban garden. At the centre of it was Skellig himself: his surly almost-animal squeaks and growls becoming more coherent, turning into a confident human voice. And when the book was published and people began to ask questions about it - about the repetition of certain phrases, for instance, or its rhythms, or its composition as a series of scenes, or its use of Blake's poetry, I often found myself referring to music."

Full interview is posted in The Guardian.

Book Passage Kid Lit night

Had a wonderful time Monday night at Book Passage, where I had the privilege of being on a panel with Zilpha Keatley Snyder (Egypt Game, Headless Cupid, Witches of Worm), Gennifer Choldenko (Al Capone Does My Shirts, If a Tree Falls At Luch Period) and Christina Meldrum (Madapples).

Here's Christine, and Gennifer talking, with Zilpha seated.


Lissa Rovetch has put together an incredible once-a-month Kid Lit Salon. Her line-up of Kid-Lit stars is awesome! Check it out.

Here she is, chumming up the crowd. (Lissa is very funny and is responsible for getting all of us going).




We had one of those intense, informational, can't-stop-laughing evenings. The room was full of people in a cheery mood, and the energy just hit a high spot. Thanks to all.