Ice and Snow

So: 

we've had snow and ice

and ice and snow

and rain and sleet

and sleet and rain

and snow and ice

and so it goes

You can hardly breathe

it is so beautiful:

(*Click to enlarge. Stick your face right in there. xx)

Stones

Stones on my desk

When I am thinking

I'll pick one up

and roll it around

in my hand

they're cool and smooth

and reassuring

they're simple

and astonishing

and I love them

xx

The Boy on the Porch: Fiction Enters 'Real Life'

When I wrote The Boy on the Porch, I was still living in western New York, with no plans to move, but by the time the book was finished, my husband and I were moving to Maine, following other family members, including two beloved grandchildren.

In The Boy on the Porch, a boy rides a cow. I do not know where that came from. However, several months after moving to Maine, my granddaughter joined 4-H and fell in love with cows.  She liked to sit or lie on their backs after feeding and grooming them:

Mind you, I don't think she had ever mentioned cows before this, nor had I ever heard of a child riding a cow before I wrote The Boy on the Porch.

*

In The Boy on the Porch, a boy is found asleep on a porch.  A week after we moved to Maine, I went out onto our porch and discovered a young boy curled up in a chair:

Okay, this one is not so strange, as I knew the boy, my grandson, but I had a moment's flash of that phrase "the boy on the porch" that initiated the whole book.

*

This is the story of the mystery of a child ('mystery' in several senses), and it is the story of the ways in which children and adults shape each other. 

My own children and grandchildren and all my students were mysteries (in many senses) to me, and I'm fairly certain we have shaped each other along the way.

Mm?

xx

Through the Window Glass

If you scroll back one day in this blog

you'll see this same view

in

different weather

and if you were to lean in closer

on this snowy day

you'd pass through

the window glass

and be right here

right now

. . .

xx

Inside Out, Outside In

Shadows on an upstairs railing

mimic the slim trees outside

stretching upward

and

the cold clear waters of the pond

mirror the pure perfect blue 

of the sky on this cold windy wintry day

in Maine

and the sun
that floating white light orb
(can you see it?)
is a reflection


entering the window behind me
and flinging itself into
the sky opposite
and bouncing back inside
onto my small head

I don't know if I am
outside or inside
sometimes

xx

Maiden's Cliff

Maiden's Cliff

Camden, Maine

a beautiful hike

with beloved people

and dogs, too

Most of us wearing neon orange

to alert hunters

to our presence

Such a day!

xx

Red Wheelbarrow

so much depends

upon

a red wheel

barrow

laden with brown

leaves

beside the white

birches

xx

Wicked Restroom

Check out the 'wicked' restroom

at the Farnsworth Museum

in Rockland, Maine. . .

This ties in with their current

Wizard of Oz 

display. . .

Makes you smile, mm?

xx

Writers Gather

Some of the writers and illustrators

and other noted book people

at the recent Rhode Island Festival

of Children's Books & Authors:

Kate Messner with Professor Susannah Richards

Chris Van Allsburg with Jarrett Krosoczka

Gregory Mone with Avi

Editor Susan Rich with Dan Santat

and the illusive Lemony Snickett

**

Much love for enthusiastic readers

and much love for fellow writers 

and illustrators

and book lovers.

We did laugh an awful LOT.

xx

The Harbor

Down in the harbor

boatmen and women

are making repairs

steadily preparing

to wrap up for winter

cocooning

as the sun 

slides lower and lower

in the sky

and the dinghies

lie in wait

for their final shuttles

of the season

. . .

xx

Refilling the Well: or Why I'm Not Getting Any Writing Done

I give up.

The next/new story

is just not going to get written

until

it turns ugly

outside.

xx

Sudden Beauty

You're carrying a load of laundry

down the hall

you round the corner 

and there!

whoah!

on the windowsill:

You stop

you freeze

you are struck dumb

It's too much

this sudden beauty

on laundry day

*

Sometimes I think 

I should never write another word

because words pale

in comparison

to 

so much else.

xx

About those tomatoes . . .

Oops.

In the last blog post

a photo of tomatoes on the vine

prompted the recall of

a long-ago poem.

I thought the first two lines were:

clothes on the line

tomatoes on the vine

BUT!

Today I remembered the correct version:

flowers on the vine

bermudas on the line

summer came and 

summer went and 

no one fed the swine.

++

Ho! 

Flowers!
Bermudas!

No tomatoes!

Brains are amazing storehouses . . .

xx

Tomatoes on the vine . . .

Yesterday I brought in these

unripened tomatoes

to save them from frost

but seeing them today

jolted me back to a poem

I wrote and published

(in a small journal)

over thirty years ago

I'm still looking for a copy of the poem

but here are the lines

I can remember so far:

clothes on the line

tomatoes on the vine

summer came and summer went

and no one fed the swine . . .

Well!

I didn't say it was a good poem.

xx

The Boy on the Porch: Beginning

Usually I begin writing a story when a clear and insistent image appears in my mind of a character and a place. That initial image often becomes the opening image of the book, as it does here:

I'm curious about that boy and the people who find him, and so I write the story to learn more.

I hope that readers will be curious, too, and will read the story to learn more. . . and will like what they read.

xx

Water and Rock

The only noise

is 

water against rock

water against rock

water against rock

xx

(Acadia National Park, Mt. Desert Island, Maine)

The Original Cubism

Wicked storms blew through

trees down

power out for twelve hours

One result, from the fridge: 

My husband calls it

'the original Cubism'

xx

Communing with Ocean, part two

You are lured in by

the tree-framed view

to stand on the rocks

and breathe

to kneel by water's edge

and admire.

It is good to disappear

into such grandeur

xx

Communing with Ocean

The pull of the ocean is so strong

sun  sand  water

rocks  seaweed  shells

bliss

xx

Sheep Talk

There was some

sheep talk

going on

at the fair

in 

Union, Maine:

I was eavesdropping.

xx

There's an awful lot

of local pressure

for

my next book

to be about

a

cow.

Mm.

xx

The Boy on the Porch

(Coming September 3, 2013)

This is the newest book, out in a few weeks.  

The title floated in my head as I woke one day two years ago, although I did not recognize it as a title. It was merely a phrase, insistent enough that it stuck with me through the morning.  The following day, it appeared again as I awoke, and later that day after a nap, again: "the boy on the porch."  A few days later, again.  And again.  And again.

Okay, okay, okay.  I will write to find out about the boy on the porch!

Student Art: Decorated Envelopes

Fan mail with illustrated envelopes

makes me smile.

Why don't more of us

indulge in this art?

Maybe you will send a letter

to someone today

and decorate its envelope

Mm?

xx