Castle of Concrete by Katia Raina

 Today, I get to celebrate my friend Katia Raina's new YA book Castle of Concrete!  

There's more about the book below but first, I want to tell you about Katia.  A decade ago, we met for the first time outside at a local restaurant, chatted about writing and life, and by the end of the night I had a new friend. Katia wrote about that day on her blog.

Katia is one of the most interesting and thoughtful people I know.  And she's fearless.  When she lived here in New Jersey, we'd meet at a local diner where she'd share her adventures. Katia grew up in the Soviet Union during its collapse and that's where her new book takes place. During one of our writing sessions, she talked about writing a book based on those experiences.  I'm so happy this book is going to be out in the world. I can't wait to read it!

Here's the description of her new book from her publisher:

 Set in the final year of Soviet Russia’s collapse, this stunning debut novel tells the story of Sonya, a timid Jewish girl reuniting with her once-dissident mother and falling in love with a mysterious muddy-eyed boy who may be an anti-Semite. All the while, Sonya’s mama is falling in love also—with shiny America, a land where differences seem to be celebrated.  

  Unfortunately this interview was virtual since she's move out of state. But I'm thrilled to be able to ask Katia these questions and to learn more about her book: 

How did your experiences as a teen growing up in the Soviet Union during that time influence your story?

I was a bit younger than Sonya during the events taking place in Castle of Concrete, but many experiences growing up in those turbulent times inspired the book and in many ways made it what it is. The big, life-defining moments like first romance, starting a new school and reuniting with my mother after a long separation, hearing anti-Semitic slurs casually tossed around by strangers -- and worse -- friends.  But it wasn't just the big things. It was playing the piano to deal with feelings, and hanging out on construction sites. It was rides in crowded buses and visiting a McDonald's for the first time. It was standing up to a teacher. (There is a moment in Castle of Concrete, where Sonya uses a quote from a great Russian author to try and defend her dignity against a teacher, while expressing a very Russian sentiment that beauty is important, physical beauty included. Specifically, when the teacher quotes Tolstoy at her as saying "Modesty beautifies," Sonya fires back with a line from Chekhov: "Everything in a person must be beautiful." Well, this bit was based on a real exchange between an adolescent me and my sarcastic teacher. Of course now I am a teacher, myself, and I make it a point to never make a young person feel small because of their occasionally questionable clothing choices. :)

Having given you all these examples, it's important that I make very clear that this book is fiction. Sonya has a lot in common with the young me, but we are not the same person and the same things didn't happen to us. Castle of Concrete is woven in equal part of memory, research and imagination.

You started this story years ago (I remember us talking about it in the diner).  Can you talk about how this book came to be?

I started this book when my baby daughter was just born. Now, in the year it's being published she is 15, going on 16, just like Sonya. Now that's a scary thought!

I have always loved writing, especially short stories and poetry. As a young mother, I decided to quit a demanding journalist job to raise my then-toddler son and suddenly found myself with time and inner space for creativity. So I signed up for a correspondence course at the Institute of Children's Literature -- because I am that person who works well with creative guidance -- and started experimenting with goofy short stories for little kids and picture books. At the end of the course, working with author Kristi Holl, I decided to start a novel. That's when the ideas for Castle of Concrete came flooding in.

This book didn't come from a single lightbulb moment. It was more a collection of memories and many little ideas that came together into a big one in a process so magical I am having a hard time describing it or locating its origins. I took strong feelings lingering from adolescence, including the urge for romance, the need for connection and the fear of rejection and combined it with big questions, like why do people hate others so much? Why do people need an "other?" That's how the idea for Castle of Concrete was born.

What was your writing process for this book?

I poured my ideas into an outline and started. Kristi at the Institute of Children's Literature loved the first chapter and encouraged me to keep at it. The first draft writing took me about three months. It was so much fun and so easy. Little did I know that the revision process for this story would stretch over years and years. I spent many days, mornings and evenings, luxuriating in the setting and consumed by the characters, as I was getting to know them better and better with each pass. Of course there were many dark moments as well. There would be times when I'd say to this book, "Okay, story. Whatever you have to share, share it now, or be done with it. Because I can't do this forever, you know. This is a heads-up: ready or not, I am moving on." And I did move on, over and over, on to other manuscripts, other revisions. I enrolled in Vermont College of Fine Arts, I explored other ideas.

The traditional advice is: start a story, finish it, move on. It's good advice, and I tried so, so hard to follow it. Yet, gently but persistently, Castle of Concrete, would always find a way to rope me back in. I re-read, I tinkered. I reconsidered. I got feedback from writer friends and a few publishing industry professionals who loved Castle in its earliest, most imperfect incarnations and whose passionate guidance absolutely helped shape the book it would become. I took the feedback and revised, then revised again. Hopefully this give you an idea. :) That was the process, just scratching for the truth and seeing it come slowly forward. Until I could feel like yes, this was the story I had been trying to tell. This was the song I had been trying to sing.

That has been my process!

Thank you so much for answering these questions, my friend. You can learn more about Katia and her new book by visiting her blog

Congratulations Katia! 

The Writing Process Blog Tour

Tamara Ellis Smith asked me to participate in the Writing Process Blog Tour. Here's Tamara's  post  on Kiss the Earth , a blog she shares with author Sharry Phelan Wright.  How can you not love a writing blog that is named after a line in a poem written by the poet and zen master Thich Nhat Hanh?
I met Tamara in a unusual way.  When Neil Armstong is My Uncle and Other Lies Muscle Man McGinty Told Me first came out I found a commercial on YouTube from a boy who had read the book. It was amazing. As an author, there is nothing better than watching a commercial about your book that was written and acted by a fifth-grader. The boy had long curly hair that bounced when he spoke.  At the time I was starting Hiding Out at the Pancake Palace.  I was so inspired by the boy in the YouTube commercial that I gave the main character, Elvis Ruby, the same long curly hair. It became Elvis's trademark.  I wrote to the teacher to thank her and got a lovely email back from the boy's mom, who also just happened to be a middle grade book author. So that's how we met. Talk about a small world. Recently Tamara announced that she had received a two book deal with the publisher Schwartz & Wade!  Her first book, The Marble Boys, comes out in August 2015. 

Here are the questions from the blog tour.

What am I currently working on?

I'm working on a  middle grade novel. The main character is a girl who believes she has a certain psychic power and she doesn't want it at all. The girl has a very strong relationship with her grandparents and I'm really enjoying writing about that part of the story. She is twelve. There is a fourteen year old boy who seems to like her.  This is my first story where there may be a little bit of a romance.

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

That's a difficult question.  When I'm working on a story, I'm not thinking about genre. My first book was historical fiction. The next one had a tiny bit of magical realism. This one seems to be somewhere between a fantasy and magical realism. One thing they all have in common is that there is always a misfit, a character who clearly doesn't belong. My stories always involve them navigating relationships and having them trying to find their way.


Why do I write what I write?
 I never intentionally set out to write middle grade, but I have noticed that most of my characters are somewhere between the ages of ten to fourteen. I love reading middle grade books. They are fun, often philosophical and always filled with hope and promise. It is such an important time of growth, where kids are taking their first steps into an adult world yet they haven't lost their childhood abilities to imagine and to wonder. 

How does my individual writing process work?
 I wish my process was more of a process. I'm in awe of writers who say they can write outlines or that they always start a certain way. For me, every book is different. It usually starts when I think of a character and then think about how the character would interact with other people. I try to get to know my characters before I even begin to write. Normally I start thinking about them while I'm finishing up a book.
Each book comes out a different way. Neil Armstrong is My Uncle was all about this angry girl. Once I had her voice down, I was able to write. She was loud and determined -- so it was easy to let her run with the story. 
For Hiding Out at The Pancake Palace, I had to write pages of back story before I could understand what was happening. In this current book, I'm writing out of order. When I see a scene, I write it. I'm trying to make sure I understand what the main character is really after. The good thing about writing out of order is that I already have how the story will end.
One thing I know for certain is that I hate first drafts. I love revision.

 Next up on the tour:

Katia Raina 

Katia writes poetry and novels for young adults, while pursuing an MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults from the Vermont College of Fine Arts. I met Katia when she asked to interview me for her blog after my first book came out. By the time the evening was over, we were friends. When it comes to writing, she is fearless. I've learned so much from her. 
Katia has already posted her answers to hop on over to her wonderful blog and see her reply.

Jake celebrates HUM!

Jake is convinced that if you listen hard to a daisy you will hear its secret hum. That's because he's spent the last few months listening to me gush about Tracy Holczer's truly amazing middle grade debut, "The Secret Hum of a Daisy."            

Today HUM goes out into the world!  Congratulations HUM!  And congratulations Tracy!

To find out more about Tracy and her lovely book here's the link to her website.

When we're not listening to daisies here in New Jersey, we will be doing a happy dance to celebrate the special day.

Jake Celebrates the Paperback Release!

The paperback for Hiding Out at the Pancake Palace is out in the world!   Jake cannot control his excitement. Here he is celebrating in that crazy Jake way.

Actually Jake seems to really enjoy books.  He was the first to unwrap my author copies (and he did this while we were all out of the house).  When I got home, the box was opened and all of the copies were transported to Jake's favorite spot under the stairs.

Alas. This wasn't the first time he's done this. He enjoys paperbacks but he's been known to nibble on a hard cover too. Jake likes to sink his teeth into a book. 

Hiding Out at the Pancake Palace is in Paperback: April 10th

 

As an author, I'm beginning to notice things about book design that I never saw as a reader. 
Check out the paperback version of Hiding Out At the Pancake Palace.
Notice the information you get from the front cover. At the top is a one sentence teaser that tells what the book is about (I did not come up with this clever one liner.). They also managed to get the "an NPR Best Book of the Year" placed in the top left corner. At the bottom of the cover, there's the title of my other book so that the reader can make that connection. 
And then there are the lovely images. The sunglasses hint that someone is hiding (and they make the book look fun!). Even the blueberries are there for a reason. In Aunt Emily's Pancake Palace and in the Pinelands of New Jersey (where the book takes place) blueberries are important. And how can anyone resist the yummy stack of pancakes with the gooey font of the title melting right over them?   

In the back of the book there's a longer description to give the reader a better feeling for what the book is about and some quotes from the reviews. Sometimes when you put a lot of text into a small space it looks overwhelming.  But not in this case. That is because the quotes from the reviews are served up on white plates with a fork right next to them!  

By the way, those blueberries that are on the back cover are also featured in the beginning page of each chapter.

Thank you Square Fish for making the book look so delicious and for the time, talent and care you put into the design.

The paperback comes out on April 10th!

Toy Trains and a Farm

Here's a video of the toy farm that my mom (who is 87) set up at her place in New Hampshire.  The trains belonged to my mom's dad.  Many of the farm figures did too--although over the decades she added to it.  Every year when I was growing up, we set this up around the tree. Some years were more elaborate than others. One year we had train tracks that went around the entire house. You had to step over them every time you went into a new room. The Christmas tree in the center of the farm is one of my favorite things. It was made during the Great Depression from old scrap metal from a World War I fighter plane.You'll see a thanks at the end of this to my brother and his friend. They're the ones who set up the train board so my mom could arrange her farm. The video was made by my niece.  Enjoy!

Hope whatever holiday you're celebrating is special! Good health and happiness in the new year! 

Yes. I Was Nervous at The Brooklyn Book Festival

I was a panel moderator at the Brooklyn Book Festival. It was called "A Great Big Beautiful World" and was filled with star-studded authors.

In the picture on the left is Sonia Manzano, actress, author of 2013 Pura Belpre Honor Book The Revolution of Evelyn Serrano  and Sesame Street icon. Sonia was the first Maria on Sesame Street and she wrote for that program too.

Next to her is the award-winning and Emmy-nominated screenwriter (of films like Daddy Day Care and The Shaggy Dog) Geoff Rodkey. Geoff is the author of the extremely funny adventure series, The Chronicles of Egg.  

On the far right is Katherine Applegate, the 2013 winner of the John Newbery Medal for the years most distinguished contribution to children's literature. Katherine won for her beloved book, The One and Only Ivan. 

I'm the one in the crazy-colored scarf. The picture was taken moments before the discussion started.

 

Here's what I was thinking when the picture was being taken:

The average person runs at about 8 miles per hour (random fact that I know because besides being a writer, I'm also a librarian-and librarians are fountains of odd trivia and random facts)

The location of the Brooklyn Book Festival is about 120 miles from where I live in South Jersey (Google Maps)

Subtract three miles from the average running time because I'm an out-of-shape, middle-aged person. (I'm being generous about my running abilities but let's go with it)

Add in a few hours because I'm not familiar with the borough of Brooklyn and at some point I'd get lost.

Add in a few more hours because even though I've lived in Jersey for seven years, I'd get lost there too.

Estimate that due to adrenaline I could keep running until I got home

And the answer is:

38 hours

That's how long it would have taken for me to be sitting in my living room if I started running for the hills (or in this case the Pinelands of New Jersey).

38 hours is not long at all.

To say I was a awe-struck and nervous about being in the company of such amazing authors, who are creative and talented in so many ways, was an understatement. 

There was no need for nerves.

It turned out to be great fun.

Sonia Manzano gave thoughtful insightful answers.

Goeff Rodkey made the audience laugh.

Katherine Applegate was witty and charming.

Middle graders, who were in the audience, asked most of the questions.

And I'm glad I stayed.

Here's Geoff Rodkey's blog post about the event and yes he called it "the best panel ever". And you can see Katherine Applegate's tweet about it on his blog too.

The picture was taken by my editor Nancy Mercado, who is the one who got me the panel moderating gig  (thanks Nancy!) 

A Book Tour at Albert Music Hall

If you want to hear music in the Pinelands of New Jersey, go to Albert Music Hall.

There's nothing like it anywhere. Every Saturday night, musicians gather to perform oldies, folk music, country, bluegrass and songs that celebrate the Pinelands' unique culture. It's not only locals who enjoy the music. People from all over visit Albert Hall. Folk music legend Pete Seeger performed there twice.
The musical tradition started way back in the 1950s when two brothers, Joe and George, held gatherings at their deer farm. Joe played a washtub bass and George played the violin. The gatherings got so popular, they moved to a building in Waretown.  When that building burned down, the music continued in a parking lot. Since the 1990's Albert Hall has been located right next to the Frederic Priff Elementary school.
In Hiding Out at the Pancake Palace, the musically-gifted boy, Elvis Ruby and his musically-challenged friend, Cecilia find their way to Albert Hall.
Since this is one of the places that the book characters go, I thought the book should take a tour too.
Last night, Hiding Out at the Pancake Palace visited  Albert Music Hall.

Below are some pics:

Here's the book hanging out in the parking lot outside of the Hall.  The violin is borrowed from one of the performers.

When you first go into Albert Hall, you're greeted by the volunteers at the gift stand (everyone who works there is a volunteer. The place is filled with people who care about music and about preserving the folklore and culture of the Pinelands.  You can feel their dedication as soon as you step inside)

On the other side is the snack bar. One of the characters in Hiding Out at the Pancake Palace raves about their pies (featured in the picture below).  There are cakes, coffee, and hot dogs too. You can sit in the back of the auditorium, listen to the performers on stage and enjoy some great food.

Forgive the quality of the picture below. But this is the stage and auditorium at Albert Music Hall.

 

One of the most unique features of Albert Music Hall is the Pickin' Shed. This is a separate building where anyone can bring in their instruments and play.

Normally this place is packed with people. Last night, the music was great.

 Here's the outside of the Pickin' Shed. On summer nights they open up the doors and the music spills out.

For more info about Albert Music Hall, check out their webpage.  By the way, if you ever do decide to visit, admission for adults is only five dollars.
Thank you to all the volunteers last night who were kind enough to pose with my book.

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)