2016

A House of Makers and Readers

Today was my third amazing day, and final day, at the Mazza Museum Summer Conference for 2016. The conference continues through Friday, but my time there is done due to family commitments. As always, I leave buoyed by the spirit of the authors/illustrators, as well as the contagious enthusiasm of the librarians and teachers who attend, and the deep love and commitment of the Mazza staff and volunteers. As I said in an earlier post, this is the place to be if you love picture books.

Today, attendees heard from three keynote speakers–Steve Light, Lita Judge, and Elly MacKay. Only one had I met before. I was familiar with the work of two. All three made me feel so privileged to hear their personal stories and catch a glimpse of their creative processes. But the one thing that I took away from all of them was the knowledge that each of them were “overcomers.”

Two admitted to struggling with dyslexia. One was that odd ball kid who becomes the target of bullies.

But despite these challenges, none of the three gave up. All had people in their lives who believed in them and one even had the option to hide out in the library if the need arose. (Honestly, I still have days where I need to hide out among the stacks. How about you?)

They each spoke passionately about playing with words and their art materials, about trying new things, about keeping collections of what they love. Though their backgrounds were wildly different, each of them knew the value of time alone, time in nature, and of being close observers of their worlds.

And the thing I guess I love about all of them is that they are still kids at heart and they carry the children they were within.

Here’s some of the wisdom nuggets they shared:

“I live in my sketchbook.”–Steve Light

“You need to be an observer to be an artist or a writer.”–Lita Judge

“If I show up for it, it will show up for me.”–Lita Judge

“There are advantages to living where no one else wants to live.”–Elly MacKay

“I grew up in a house of makers and readers.”–Elly MacKay        

Here’s to all the makers and readers, the painters and dreamers, the kids hiding sketch books and pencils in their baseball mitts, and those of us who know the safety and delicious solitude of rooms full of books.

And… here’s looking forward to the Mazza Fall Conference, November 2016!

Speak up:

comment

| TAGS:

Children's Books, creativity, Elly MacKay, failure, Illustrators, Lita Judge, Mazza Museum, picture books, Steve Light, Writing, writing life

Smoke Alarm Epiphanies and Other Lessons from Mazza

Day One at the Mazza Museum Summer Conference was a grand success. Each year those Mazza magicians create a masterpiece on a corner of the stage featuring books and gizmos meant to introduce the authors and illustrators who will present. I think this year’s display is one of my favorites.

 

 

 

 

Chris Barton charmed the crowd with pictures and stories from his childhood, as well as reminding everyone that inspiration is everywhere…including the story of How Daddy Installed the Smoke Alarm…a simple story from real life that Chris’s toddler begged him to tell over and over and over. This inspired him to begin writing stories down for all children, and adults, to enjoy. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rosemary Wells told us true. Practice, she insisted is the key for writers and illustrators and anyone who wants to be good at what they do. Just as a pianist runs scales every morning, the writer must warm up with words, the artist must paint or draw or cut. Always be curious and learning. Write for your reader. Draw for your reader. Copy shamelessly! That’s how you learn. Work without ego entirely. She exhibited this trait brilliantly by taking time to talk to each person. Lucky me!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Barney Saltzberg helped us laugh and sing and remember that even an Oops can be Beautiful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hint of the Day: The artist is only the scribe, the vehicle. It comes from somewhere else.–Rosemary Wells

You never know what will start with only one–Chris Barton

There are no mistakes–Barney Saltzberg

Speak up:

comment

| TAGS:

Barney Saltzberg, Chris Barton, Illustrators, Mazza Museum, picture books, Rosemary Wells

On the Road to Mazza Museum

Wow! What a busy summer.

So far a wonderful writing retreat in Maine with good friends, a visit to Candlewick Press

with fab friend and author, Michelle Houts, and now I’m on my way to the Mazza Museum in Findlay, Ohio for the Mazza Summer Conference. If you love children’s picture books this is the place to be. Stay tuned for updates from the field.

Hint of the Day: Though your writing desk may get lonely, you don’t have to. Take advantage of the many conferences and book festivals available. Find your people!  (Especially if they make you laugh…)

 

Speak up:

comment

| TAGS:

Illustrators, Maine, Mainely Writers, Mazza Museum, picture books, writing life

Lessons from a Broken Toe

I didn’t make the connections at first. I just knew it hurt. A lot. As I sprawled in agony on my just-made bed, my first thought was, “How in the world am I going to get to work today?” My second thought was to curse the large box of books at the end of my bed. The one I had just crashed into barefoot. The one full of magnificent books I have been meaning to read for a long time but just haven’t gotten to because, you know, I have to go to work. And then the thought came, “I have to go to work today because I have that meeting at 10:00 to go over my contract.” The contract I intend to sign in order to work three more years. Three more years in which I probably won’t get to read those magnificent books. You see where this is going…

On most days, I enjoy my job. I like the dedicated educators I work with. I love the students I work with and enjoy the detective work I do trying to decipher their learning issues, figuring out ways their parents and teachers can help them succeed. I love my little office with its twinkle lights, beachy art, and electric kettle where I brew my morning tea. I especially love when children I’ve worked with over the years stop by to give me a hug or visit with me and my crazy-haired stuffed-toy penguin. But let’s face it, I spend most of my time writing reports full of numbers and attending meetings where I talk about numbers, and reading other people’s reports full of stiff language and more numbers. I try really hard to remember that though I have to include those numbers in my reports, my real job is to tell each child’s story. Who is this quirky kid? What do they love? If they could do anything in the world, what would it be? That’s the part that gets me up each morning. That’s the part that makes me consider signing a new three-year contract on the morning I’ve just destroyed my toe.

My mother was a teacher. My father was a teacher. For both of them, choices were limited right after WWII. At the little college where they attended and met, and thus allowed me to come into being, my dad says the choices for the boys were to be a preacher or a teacher. He had no desire to preach. If he couldn’t run away with the circus, he at least wanted to have a farm, but spots at the big school, Ohio State University, to study agriculture were allotted to returning vets, and though he and his friend offered to live in a chicken coop they had built in woodshop, they had to choose a different path. My mother had even fewer options. I went into education also at the urging of my father who was concerned about my future, but my heart has always belonged to stories, poems, the creative life. I think my mother’s did too.

Though I loved working with my students in the classroom, all my creative energies went there. When I had children of my own, that also required enormous amounts of creative energy. But though I love being a creative educator and creative mother, those roles have never been enough for me. I have to write. I have to photograph. I have to live in wonder.

In recent years, I’ve made conscious choices to follow my dreams. I’ve taken the leap into writing seriously and finding homes for my work. I’ve won awards. I’ve completed my MFA. I’ve set goals in motion with a five-year plan. So why did I quaver on that morning of the new contract? Why did my rushing around to get to work lead me painfully into a box of books I had not yet read? Why do I not feel the same joy at my computer at work that I feel when I sit down to start a new poem or picture book or novel? Why does sitting in yet another meeting not provide the same rush as reading my work  in front of an audience or leading a discussion about poetry and art in our everyday lives?

A few years ago, I read a book called Whistle While You Work. The authors, Richard J. Leider and David A. Shapiro, included an activity in which you were to identify from a list :

• Things that fit your gifts and talents
• Things you are not sure if they apply
• Things that don’t feel like you at all

Here’s my top five: writing things, exploring the way, shaping environments, seeing possibilities, adding humor

Here’s my bottom five: solving problems, analyzing info, doing the numbers, resolving disputes, fixing things

I think that morning my toe and that box of books had something important to say to me.

I’m walking more slowly now and looking carefully at what lies ahead. I signed the contract, but I’m also gazing forward to what comes next. And I intend to focus on getting more of list #1 in my life and much less of list #3. I have more options than my parents. My daughters will have more than me. But one of the best gifts I can give myself this Mother’s Day, and one I can give my daughters, as well, is to live an authentic life, to not always take the expected path, to not settle for what is, to live in wonder and gratitude, and to always be imagining the possibilities of  what can be. 

Speak up:

6 comments

| TAGS:

creativity, Whistle While You Work, Writing, writing life

Writing Outside (Your Comfort Zone)

So I love to write outside. It’s one of my favorite things to do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But outside my comfort zone? Not so much.

However, in the last year or two, I’ve been having stories come to me that don’t fit into a poem or picture book.

They insist on being (gasp) novels. Now, I love novels, but I have never believed I was equipped to write one.

I mean, I’m a short form gal. Yet those stories keep showing up at my doorstep, and I don’t have the heart to turn them away. 

So, for now, I’m going to the Little Red Writing Desk, and putting what I know into a notebook. Actually two notebooks. Because the ideas are growing. Somehow, it seems safer to scribble in a notebook than to sit down at the computer and type CHAPTER ONE.  Now that’s terrifying for us short form folks. But messing about in a notebook…it’s as easy as journaling. No expectations at all at this stage except to get the ideas down and see what happens.

Maybe you have an idea outside your comfort zone too. Feel free to share! Remember we’re in this together.

 

 

 

 

 

HINT OF THE DAY: If you have a project that takes you outside of your comfort zone, approach it in a different way than you normally would. If you usually write at a computer, try a notebook.

If you most often write on lined paper, try the wide open blank page. If you never draw what you are thinking, sketch out your rough ideas this time.

Speak up:

4 comments

| TAGS:

#Fiction, creativity, Writing, writing life