Crazy Jake

People with giant hearts do crazy things.
Take my friend, Ashley.  She's one of the most kind-hearted people I know. A huge animal lover. The type of person who spends her spare time walking dogs at the local shelter.
One day in January Ashley (I call her Ash) was on Facebook and saw a picture of a 6 yr old mastiff/boxer/bull dog mix named Eeyore who was living in a high kill animal shelter. The dog was going to be euthanized the next day. He had hours to live.
Ash contacted the rescue organization and saved him.
Now here's the thing.
The dog was in Miami. 
Ash lives in New Jersey.

A little crazy, right?

It turned out that Eeyore had a lot of health problems. They were the type of things that were typical of a dog who had been on his own for a long time. Heart worm. An ear infection that was so bad that he needed an operation.  Scratches on his face. If they were treated, they were not life-threatening. But treating them was expensive.

Ash is a full-time college student who works part time at the library. She lost her home in Superstorm Sandy so she is not exactly in the financial position to pay for all of this. 

And now she was responsible for a dog in Miami who has thousands of dollars in vet bills.

It all seemed unsurmountable.

Ashley turned to internet. A whole bunch of people with giant hearts donated money for Eeyore, a dog they'd never met.

Down in Florida, he was fostered and cared for and nursed back to health by more kindhearted people. It took months.

To be honest, I wasn't paying all that much attention to Eeyore and his story. Oh sure, I asked about him and I donated some money to his cause, but  I was too preoccupied with things that were happening in my own life.

I didn't even know that Eeyore was ready for his trip to New Jersey and that Ash was frantically trying to find him a place to stay until another animal-loving co-worker mentioned it to me at the library.

It wasn't like we weren't looking for a dog. Our beloved German Shepard mix, Chi, had passed away in December. During the months that Eeyore was in Florida convalescing, I'd go with Ashley to the local animal shelter. I knew exactly what I wanted: a golden-haired large breed ...like Chi. There were some great dogs at the shelter but the ones that I liked either were about to be adopted by someone else or they were way too high energy for us.

Since we didn't have a dog, and Eeyore didn't have a home, it seemed like a natural fit. After a short conversation, my husband and I decided to foster Eeyore.

We met him on Easter morning.

By Easter evening, it felt like he had been here forever.

We renamed him Jake.

And he was no longer a foster dog.

There is nothing dainty about Jake. He is a bulldozer of a dog, who will jump on your lap if you let him.

His favorite game is when one person stands on one end of the yard and the other stands at the other end. Jake runs back and forth to get pet.

Mostly, he likes to chill with his people. Every so often he runs around like a crazy dog, excited, happy and ready to play. He tends to be a goof ball.

But that is not why I call him Crazy Jake.

You'd think that a dog who had been abandoned and mistreated, a dog who ended up on death row at an animal shelter would be wary of humans. You'd think he'd keep his heart to himself.

But Jake is all about love.  He rolls over on his back. He gives kisses. He presses against people, waiting to be pet.
He charms everyone he meets. He has a whole group of people who helped with his rescue and every time Ashley posts pictures on Facebook, they cheer him on.
I've never seen anyone (dog or human) so determined to make a relationship work.  From the moment he got here he seemed to love and accept us, and the only thing he wants is to be loved back.

When you think about it, that's a little crazy.

A dog who has been abandoned and mistreated being so trusting and so willing to love again.

But obviously Jake is a dog with a giant heart.

And dogs with giant hearts do crazy things...

Jake in his new home.

Friday morning deep thoughts. 

Being chill

April was Amazing!

There are days that you will always remember and for me, April 16th was on the top of the list.

That was the day of the Hiding Out At The Pancake Palace book launch held at the Toms River Branch of the Ocean County Library. (by the way, Hiding out at the Pancake Palace takes place in an imaginary town in Ocean County and I happen to be a librarian there).

First over one hundred 4th, 5th and 6th graders whose schools were destroyed from Superstorm Sandy came to the library to celebrate the launch! We talked about writing, reading, and dreams.

There are tons of pictures at the Ocean County Library's flickr page

Each child received a book (donated by my publisher Roaring Brook Press, the Ocean County Library and me). They played games. There was a pancake toss (with beanbags that looked like pancakes). And check out that "hiding out" poster where on the flickr page where each child got to pose for a picture  taken by the paparazzi. 

My editor drove all the way from New York to come to party. My colleagues who work in other OC library branches came too.  At lunchtime, there was cake made by Jennicakes and incredible food, including pancakes (made by the Branch Manager). I spent the day surrounded by people from the Ocean County Library and they are some of the most creative, enthusiastic and talented people I've ever met.

It was a day filled with surprises: 
* One of the fourth grade classes who attended the morning party came dressed as characters from Neil Armstrong Is My Uncle...  They carried posters and spoke in character too. It was amazing.
* There were presents from friends: flowers, balloons, candy  and Brussels Sprouts (this is a great gift but it doesn't make sense until you've read the book)
* I received an Ocean County Library Commission Resolution read by Commissioner James Mullins before my evening talk. It's a official document filled where every paragraph starts with the word WHEREAS. It starts like this "WHEREAS the OC Library Commission has been informed of the publication of Nan Marino's book ... " and then it moves to "WHEREAS the book ....mentions Ocean County landmarks such as Albert Hall and the Pinelands.."  When it got to "WHEREAS Nan Marino is a dreamer and when she conducts school visits she reminds kids to dream to..."  I started to cry.

I guess it's true that I am a dreamer, and I dreamed about getting published for a long time. Before you get that call, there are certain things that you think about: Holding your first (and your second) book in your hand. Seeing it on the shelf of a library. Having a child tell you that what you wrote mattered.
But in my wildest craziest dreams I could never have imagined a more perfect book launch or a more perfect day. Thanks to my friends and colleagues at the Ocean County Library, the day was magical.

Book Launch Bash for Kids Still Affected By Sandy

The stage is set at the Toms River Branch of the Ocean County Library.

Here's what's happening today to celebrate the launch of Hiding Out at the Pancake Palace.

First, in the morning there's a book launch party for school children who are still displaced by Superstorm Sandy.

Hosted by the Ocean County Library in Toms River NJ, about a hundred fourth, fifth and sixth graders will be treated to fun, crafts and activities. We'll chat a little about writing and reading and they'll get a taste of the first chapter of Hiding Out at The Pancake Palace (which takes place in an imaginary town in Ocean County).

The people at the library wanted a happy feel good event. It's been a tough six months here. We're still working on restoring and rebuilding. Most of the children invited are from the barrier islands, which were pummeled  by Sandy. They're still waiting for their schools to be rebuilt (and most likely their homes too).


As soon as my publisher Roaring Brook Press found out what the Ocean County Library had planned, they generously offered to donate copies of the book. The Ocean County Library donated some too, and of course, I happily joined in. Now every child who attends this party will leave with an autographed copy of the book. There will be some other giveaways. The people at the Ocean County Library know how to throw a party and they've worked so hard to make this day special.

Hiding Out At The Pancake Palace is about a superstar boy who freezes on stage in a televised talent show. To escape the paparazzi, he hides in the Pinelands of New Jersey.  There's lots of local folklore in the story and the famous blueberries, cranberries, sugar sand and music of the Pinelands make their appearance in the book too. I wrote this book way before Sandy, but after seeing how tough and resilient the people of my adopted state have been, I am so proud this story takes place in New Jersey.

I wish you all could see way the stage is decorated and there's this really cool spinning wheel (like the ones they have at carnivals) that's filled with pancakes and all sorts of references from the book. Oh and there's a amazing cut out poster where kids can put their face in the opening so it looks like they are "hiding out" with the book.

In the evening there will be a book talk/author event open to the public. So if you happen to be in Toms River New Jersey at 7:00 on April 16th, stop by  the library.

Memories of Chi (2000 to 2012)

My dog Chi has been featured in a lot of my posts so I thought it was fitting to celebrate her life here on my blog.

Here are some of my favorite pictures.

Everyone should have the opportunity to be loved by a dog.

How the Christmas of Sandy Got Changed to Something More

My Christmas ornaments were destroyed in hurricane Sandy.  They were stored in the back shed in what I thought was watertight containers.  When the storm surge came everything was knocked around. Between the salt water and the mud, they didn’t stand a chance.

Where I live, I’m one of the lucky ones. I’m still in my house, which is more than I can say for most of my neighbors. During the past two months, their moldy wet belongings were taken to the curb. Their houses are gutted and they are scattered who knows where.

Compared to that, what’s a few decorations?

Besides, I’m not one of those people who loves Christmas. Sometimes the holidays overwhelm me. And you can always buy new ornaments, right?

CVS had a giant tube of color balls for 15 bucks. For a moment I thought about buying it. I even thought about splurging and getting a few of those hand-blown glass balls.

But it wouldn’t be the same. A tree with all new decorations would be like the ones in the department stores – nice to look at but devoid of sentiment and meaning.

It’s the memories in each decoration that makes it special. This year, while I’m surrounded by the destruction of Sandy and mourning the death of my father, I’ve been holding tight to memories.

And much to my surprise, I’ve missed my ornaments.

Even the ugly ones.

The year I got married, my mom gave me this hideous fluffy pink thing that said “First Christmas” in magenta script. (We always hid that one in the back).

She redeemed herself the next year when she gave me a wooden sail boat with a white-haired captain that we all agreed looked a little like my dad.

I had some pretty ones too. And handmade ones. For a while my sister went through what we liked to call her “felt period.” Every year we got a new felt masterpiece.

My favorites were the ornaments with stories that continued from one year to the next. When I was seven I found a wooden elf with an orange hat in my brother’s stocking. (Please don’t judge. He used to go through my stocking too).  For years we negotiated and traded that elf back and forth, and we argued about who got to put it on the tree. For even more years, we fake-argued.

I told myself this shouldn’t matter. Compared to what so many others lost, this shouldn't be a big deal.

Still, I missed my ornaments. I miss my neighbors. I miss the way the streets looked before Sandy. I miss my dad.

All that missing made me weary. 

I decided to skip Christmas. Expect for the Christmas Eve trip to the in-laws, I could have pulled it off too.

Until I got a package in the mail from my writing friend, Tracy Holczer. (We met on the Blueboards. We have the same terrific agent and we started talking over the phone in the beginning of this year. We talk about writing and we talk about life too. By the way, Tracy’s debut middle grade book is due out in 2014)

It was a huge box and I didn't understand it when I first opened it up. The box was filled with ornaments –some were in gift bags—others were carefully wrapped in tissue paper.

This had to be a mistake. In the rush of those pre-Christmas preparations maybe Tracy had sent me a box that was meant for her tree. She was probably going crazy looking for it. I was going to send her an email to let her know.

Then I saw a note on one of the bags that said “Merry Christmas Nan”

And I cried.

It took a long time for my slow-processing brain to put all of it together.

These were ornaments from different people -people I know from Facebook, people whose books I admire, people I’ve shared my writing angst and happy moments with, people whose books are on my to-read list. 

There were notes. Each note told a story. Each decoration did too.

Some of the ornaments were from their own trees.

Others were new.

There were home made ones too, including some snowflakes made out of felt.

There was even one that was the exact same replica of one that I had lost.

I spent the day crying.

Then I pulled myself together and drove to the local CVS and bought a little tree and some lights.

When I went back to my house, I played Christmas carols and sang.

While I decorated, I marveled at my gift.

My writer friends turned this difficult time into to the “year of the unforgettable gift”

I wish I knew a way to say thank you to everyone who participated (I don’t want to list names because I’m worried that I’ll leave out someone). It has bought me more joy than I can say.

I have a tree again.

A tree that is filled with stories.

And it’s a gift from the best storytellers I know.

Thank you.

I wish you all the same type of joy that I found when I opened up this truly special gift.

Merry Christmas!

 (More pics below)

There's an Contest on Goodreads

There's a contest on Goodreads for the Advanced Readers Copy of Hiding Out at The Pancake Palace!
Click here to enter.  The contest ends on December 12th.

After the Storm

“After every storm, there’s a rainbow.”  

I admit it. I was one of those people who totally bought into quotes like that one. Blame it on the rainbow. When I was in my teens I almost had a car accident pulling over on a busy street so I could stop and take a picture of one that was reaching across the highway. And I’ve spent many an afternoon singing over and over again that song The Rainbow Connection with Kermit the frog. (well… Kermit sings. My voice comes out more like a croak – and I can’t believe I’ve admitted this on my blog). And those books with rainbow-after-storm themes are among my all time favorites (Isn’t that what middle grade books are all about?) 

But a lot has happened since my last post. I’ve learned all about the nature of storms – both emotional ones and hurricanes. Within a 48-hour period, there was a death in my family and there was Sandy.  Where I live on the Jersey shore, Sandy hit hard. It hit hard on Long Island, where I grew up too. 

So now I know…the storm is only the beginning of the story. The rainbow would be the end. But there’s a whole lot that happens in the middle that I had no idea about. And that's the part that seems to go on forever. It’s the middle part that tests you, that makes you question everything.   

So far, here’s what I’ve learned about what happens after the storm: 

     There are tears.

     There is destruction.

     There is mud. It is not the gushy soft stuff that you wiggled your toes in when you were a child or the luxurious goo that spas use. It is a dirty mud, It is relentless, unforgiving and everywhere.

     There are hugs. Lots of hugs.

     There is awe...At the sheer power of nature...At the finality of death... Of the surreal quality of it all.

  
     There are new ways to say hello. Even strangers on line at the supermarket greet each other with a “how’d you do?” After Sandy, that means “do you have heat?” “Was your house flooded?” “Are you homeless?”

     There is confusion and frustration. And resolutions. 

     There is tedium. The cleaning up part is slow and hard, a Sisyphean task. Every day people gather up the insides of their houses (the walls, ruined moldy possessions, refrigerators, appliances etc) and place them in huge piles near the street. As soon as the piles are taken away, they take another wall down, gather up more moldy possessions and make more piles. Grief has a similar pattern. It nags at you while you drink your coffee, then goes away, only to come back in flashes and waves.

     There is a yearning for ordinary things now gone: A day my Dad and I spent sailing in the Great South Bay. That roller coaster in Seaside that I always meant to ride. That beach on Long Island where I spent my high school summers.

     There is bravery in unexpected places. There is resilience. And I could write an entire blog post about kindness – simple gestures and huge acts of generosity from both strangers and friends.

     But even speaking metaphorically, I wouldn’t quite call the bravery, the resilience or even the kindness a “rainbow”. As for real ones, I’ve stopped looking up in the sky for them. I am not in the mood. If one did appear, its carefree lightness would seem trite and not appropriate.

     There is time, though. Time to rebuild, time to gather those you love and to be thankful that you are together, time to share a meal and to celebrate thanksgiving.  This year, it will be a different type of holiday- maybe more meaningful than ones in the past.

     Did I mention there is mud?

(the picture is a pre-Sandy rainbow over Barnegat Bay)