The Strand on BBC radio with Daby Toure and Skip McDonald

Years ago I read an account of a group of African men hired to transport supplies on their backs for someone who was exploring in Africa. The explorer set a fast pace, despite the heavy packs the men were carrying. At the end of a week or ten days, the men refused to shoulder their packs, insisting on a lay-over day. When pressed, they said they were "waiting for their spirits to catch up with their bodies."

I've always loved the expression, and find it very true. And it's what I'm doing now: after the push to get MARCHING FOR FREEDOM done, I'm waiting for my spirit to catch up with my body.

Last night I was laying in bed in the dark listening to the radio. I wasn't sleepy, just done with my day, enjoying the stars I could see gleaming through the skylight after days of overcast and rain. I heard the most wonderful program on The Strand on BBC radio. One of the leaders of the World Music scene, Mauritanian musician Daby Toure teamed up with American Bluesman Skip McDonald for an album, "Call My Name." Before playing their song, "Rhythm," Daby Toure introduced it, saying, "For us, rhythm is everywhere. The rhythm is when we walk, when we talk, when we decide things, when we think about things, everything is with rhythm. We have to chose the good one. When you chose the good rhythm, your day is good."

Check it out here at BBC radio. It's about 20 minutes in. I think the BBC only leave their programs up for six or seven days, so take a few minutes soon. I promise, the rhythm of the song will set your day in a whole new direction.

advanced reader copy for Marching for Freedom

You know that feeling you get when you are in a little cabin in the woods and its been windy and maybe rainy and suddenly you realize that the wind has stopped blowing. It is calm. Beautifully, quietly calm. And you know how you pick your head up and wonder, "when did the wind stop blowing? Just now? Or minutes ago and I didn't notice?"

The wind stopped blowing for me... minutes ago. For the last few weeks I have been hard at work on the final fixes on my upcoming book, Marching for Freedom: Walk Together Children, and Don't You Grow Weary. But I haven't been alone. My editor, Catherine Frank, has been reading, shooting me questions, rereading. Strategizing. Asking more questions. Jim Hoover, the designer...well, he's put together the most incredibly beautiful book. I was able to pull together 50 black and white photos of the march from Selma to Montgomery, 1965. Here's a snapshot of some proofs that Jim recently sent me that I put up on the wall of my writing room. He was working on getting the grays just right. Not too warm, not too cool. And the manuscript has also been circulating through the incredible, encylcopedic mind and capable hands of Janet Pascal, catching my most dim-witted errors, and querying jumps or oversights I've made.

While we were doing this, I was also finalizing all the permissions: for the photos, for quotes and music lyrics. Not for the faint hearted, I promise you. But all the worry and work and second-guessing is worth it: today my Advanced Reader Copies came in the mail. I held the book -- well, the pre- book really. (These are what the reviewers will get this spring. It's like a paperback copy of the book. Still missing the index and a few high-res photos.) I ran my hand over the silky-smooth cover. Sniffed it. Thumbed through it. Slowly, very slowly. Greeted each photo like an old friend.

There a few tasks left for each of us, but the book goes off to the printer very soon, and reappears as a real book this fall. Now... in the quiet... the rest of my life is waiting for me.

Here is what happens to my desk when I work this flat-out. Kind of scary, eh? You can see that I have a little clean-up to do now that the winds have stopped blowing!

Working and playing in New York City, all in fast-forward

I'm back in the land of beautiful sunsets, hiking in the hills every evening with Tom and our dog Penny, the bay at our feet, turning shades of turquoise and aquamarine as the sun sets and the lights of the city sparkle in the darkness, laying out grids and curves.

NYC was a blast. I had five incredibly busy days as I met with my agent and several of my editors. Highlights were: working on layout for my upcoming book, Marching for Freedom: Walk Together Children and Don't You Get Weary with designer Jim Hoover and editor Catherine Frank, a party for Deborah Heiligman, celebrating her new book, Charles and Emma, which is truly spectacular (five stars, all well deserved), a wonderful visit with editor Jill Davis as she stretches in new ways, (interview with Jill on I.N.K. here) a visit to the New York Tenement Museum with my friend Allyson Feeney, and a brainstorming session with one of my beloved posse, Judy Blundell, (interviewed by Daniel Handler here) over breakfast at Balthazar.

I took my camera and shot lots of photos. Imagine my surprise when I arrived home and no. camera. in. my. bag. Somehow I lost it. The very last day. I keep looking in all the usual places -- did I take it out of my bag when I got home and lay it down somewhere? (It was 3 am, after all.) I called the airline and I called the hotel and I looked all over again at home. No camera. So I lost my great photo shoot. I wonder: is this like the fish that got away? But I know I had a great shot of fashion on the streets: a woman walking in high, high heels, with canary yellow soles. Photos of this wonderful store full of ribbons in satin and gross grain and velvet, and buttons! buttons! buttons! All in floor to ceiling displays. (I just found it on Google -- it's M and J Trimmings) and Anna, next time we go to NYC I'm taking you there.

Enough wallowing about my lost camera. Time to get to work. Heading to the library to rough out an upcoming article for Smithsonian Magazine.

Blaze of glory

Took a walk in the hills as the sun was setting in splendor just north of the Golden Gate Bridge. Goodbye to the bay area and hello to New York City for a quick trip. Brrrr!

Virginia Euwer Wolff

There's a wonderful interview with Virginia Euwer Wolff (you know, Make Lemonade) on Publisher's Weekly Children's Bookshelf. A wonderful read. Check it out. Virginia is one of the few people who can leave me holding my aching sides laughing while she looks at me, all innocent-like. And she writes beautiful, intense, breathy novels. And plays the violin.

If you are really lucky some day you will hear her speak and you'll laugh so hard you have to gasp for breath. Except for the parts where she'll make you weep. And if you aren't going to cross paths with her soon, you can pick up her new novel, This Full House, which is the third (and I think final) book in the trilogy about Jolly and La Vaughn.

Obama Inauguration Day at UC Berkeley's Sproul Plaza

In 1962 my mother kept us all out of school and we walked up to the UC Berkeley Memorial Stadium to hear President Kennedy speak. I was ten, and we sat on the wooden benches under the open sky with his voice ricocheting from the loudspeakers. I don't remember what he said, but I remember he was laid on my heart like a patch that day, a man who made people laugh and cheer when he spoke. A man important enough that my shy and reclusive mother would brave crowds to make sure we saw him.

Since then, my heart has been patched and repatched, in love and in anger and sorrow, often within sight of the campus, inside the surging sounds from the carillon bells. I went to school at UC Berkeley, was tear-gassed in Sproul Plaza, graduated as the first student with a degree in Women's Studies. My husband Tom and I had our night-before wedding party at the Faculty Club, with our family gathered to celebrate us. I still frequently walk to campus, my library card in hand, loving the smell of the halls, the echoing sound of chairs scraping back from study tables, the quiet rustling of paper as people turn pages and scribble and type and sigh.

This morning Tom and I headed for Sproul Plaza to watch Obama's inauguration under a wide open sky. The lovely circle of completion: another president who can inspire us like we haven't had since JFK, another president already laid on my heart, just like on so many other American hearts. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of us gathered together to cheer and weep and dare to hope he can guide our weary, crashing world to a better place.

Oh Lord, What a Morning. The sun clears the building as Michelle walks out.

Obama speaks.


Everyone listens, and this man stands and sings the Star Spangled Banner, start to finish.

As things wound down and the crowd began to drift away, this woman, Lady Liberty, remained perfectly still and watched until Bush took off in the helicopter. Then she turned quietly and walked away, witness to the moment.

Dan Stone Memorial Chidren's Author visit

I just had the most exhilarating school and library visit. Dan Stone, who lived in Burlingame, California, was a dedicated library user for many years. After he died, his family created a special event, the Dan Stone Memorial Children's Author Series. I was invited this year as the guest. I followed in some pretty big footsteps : Paul Fleishman 2002, Maxine Rose Schur 2004, Pam Munoz Ryan 2005, and Gennifer Choldenko 2007.

In the morning I did two presentations in the middle school library. I had fantastic kids, clustered together on the carpeted floor of the library and up the also-carpeted steps. The were full of questions, which was great. As I was showing Dorothea Lange's photos of the Great Depression and playing Woody Guthrie songs, I realized these kids were hearing today about the recession-could-it-turn-into-a-depression, and now they were seeing and hearing about the Great Depression. What I was doing was not just history, but was suddenly relevant, scarily enough.

In the afternoon I did two more presentations at the Burlingame Library, which is a beautiful place. Dan Stone's daughters came and brought their children, which was really an honor. Here's a photo of the Stone grandchildren with me on the right and a picture of their grandfather. My author minder for the day was Cathy Somerton, with assistance from Kathy with a K. Thanks to both of them, as well as Michele Gilcrest, the librarian, who prepared the kids for my visit. And thanks to Cathy Somerton for taking the photos!