A Tale of Two Cultures: Genre in Chinese Literature

Our former editorial intern Wendy Lu wrote this series on the reading culture in China.

A Tale of Two Cultures II: Genre in Chinese Literature by Wendy Lu:

The Chinese love lisi, or history.* More often than not, you will see that the books people hold in their hands while ambling down the street or wandering between shelves at the library are biographies of late rulers and other important figures, chronicles written about this dynasty or that era, or perhaps a photo journal of old relics and precious antiques that once belonged to families of lost names. Even children’s popular books are filled with stories about mighty emperors and their royal families living in the Forbidden Palace. In a country whose past dates back to over centuries ago, history is what grounds people and fuses that connection to their ancestry as well as to China herself.

That isn’t to say Chinese people don’t enjoy fiction as well. But while many television shows and novels are fictitious, they rely heavily on the setting and historical background of the era that the characters have been placed in. The back story of the characters and of the setting is a chief determinant of what goes on—the conflict—in those 28 episodes or 489 pages. Even as people are enjoying beautiful tales of family betrayal and war and incestuous romance and magic and rogue princesses in imaginative worlds, those imaginative worlds are based on the real world, either as it is or what it used to be.

Magic. In America today, we associate the word magic with glittering vampires, witches named Glinda, thin wands that shoot out colorful spells, dragons and other mythical creatures, green and gooey potions whose properties are either deadly or unknown, and Albus Dumbledore with his half-moon spectacles. While in China people definitely acknowledge those representations of magic, what first comes to mind is almost always wu da pian, another genre all its own that essentially means “kung fu” and is a major characteristic of Chinese culture.

Stories based on wu da pian are popular amongst all age groups, including youth. While numerous stories include martial arts and only martial arts, the kung fu that dominates the majority of wu da pian sagas incorporates elements of magic—that is, spells and enchantments activated through a link between the mind and body that are compelled by li, or energy. Flying, weaponry, and kung fu moves supplement this magic to create the genre wu da pian.

I remember babysitting two elementary school kids a couple weeks ago and taking part as the wounded victim in their wu da pian roleplay. They laid me, supposedly unconscious with fatal lacerations, on the ground and began yelling out a series of hypnotizing incantations and waving their hands—flat and positioned accordingly—in fixed patterns around my head. During one of the few moments in which I wasn’t fearing for my life in the hands of two kids who’d gone Kung Fu Panda on me, I realized they must be replicating a certain wu da pian series they’d read in a book or seen on television. Oh dear, I thought, I hope the victim in the actual series lives in the end.

In addition to wu da pian—and perhaps within the very genre itself, talking animals with human-like features, tall-tale legends, and fighting faeries that fly and travel via giant chess pieces (makes the magic carpet sound so obsolete, so ‘90’s, doesn’t it?) are also relatively popular in literature, especially children’s books. Stories that take place within the Forbidden Palace and feature princes and princesses and other members related to the Emperor are classic. And, of course, internationally acclaimed books such as Twilight and Harry Potter have also earned accolade and a capacious readership in China, and have played a large role in western globalization in China. However, Chinese literature is and always has been delineated by lisi and wu da pian and everything that ultimately defines China.


*Note: Getting to know the many locals here and learning what sort of literature attracts and resonates with them has been an enlightening journey and joy. When I say “the Chinese,” I am referring to many of the native citizens who live here, especially those I have come to know and befriend, but it is not to be assumed that my comments on “the Chinese” may not relate to “all Chinese.”

Back-to-School Blues

 Getting back into the “back-to-school” routine can be a difficult transition for kids and bring out a host worries from the anxiety closet along with the new school outfit.

Not only do bedtimes and mornings come earlier, but the transition to a new classroom, a new teacher, a new unit, or even a new school can bring up certain anxieties or regressions in children. 

Here are 12 ways you can ease those back to school stressors and help make your child’s transition to the classroom easier; (note: if anxieties become especially intense, please consult a doctor or therapist).

1.     TURN OFF THE NEWS:  Turn off the news – keep the paper out of view, turn off the internet, the radio and tv news. Try not to talk about world events around your children for the next month or so, until they have settled in to their school year.

2.     ROUTINES: Make your home inviting, safe, and comforting. Keep – or reinstate – your routines. Be at school pick up right on time. Keep bedtimes steadfast and a regular dinner hour. Be predictable; keep your word. Kids need to know they can rely on you right now.

3.     CREATE A COZY HOME: Days are getting shorter and colder. Make your home warm and inviting by turning off the overhead lights and use ambient lighting. Light a candle at dinner time; add a flower in a vase. Set out throws and pillows. A stuffed animal. Keep it simple.

4.      MAKE DINNER: Before the sports schedules get crazy, start having dinner as a family again. Don't talk about school or homework. Tell them something funny about your day. Keep it light. Laughter is good. Have a warm cooked meal. Put on some music. Family warmth is important now.

5.     SIT AND STUDY: Sit with you student. Perhaps not at the table, but nearby. Maybe you have something to read, or sew  -- pick up that old knitting, or grab a magazine. Try to stay off of your computer –  that tends to zone us out. Be a light and nearby presence for your child. Be nearby and available, while also giving them space.

6.   UNPLUG: Have a cut-off time when the Internet goes off for the evening and collect their computers  at night and put them in YOUR closet.  This will prevent kids from staying up too late texting friends or getting onto websites that are inappropriate for their age. In THE BIG DISCONNECT by Catherine Steiner-Adair, she advises that computers be used out in common areas and not be taken into bedrooms so that parents can oversee their use.

7.     FEED YOUR CHILD WELL: Eggs or oatmeal or pancakes in the morning are a good sendoff; send a heartier meal for lunch, and then a sit down dinner; a warm, well-made meal can help soothe back-to-school jitters.

8.     ENGAGE ALL THE SENSES: Go outside for a walk in nature; spend some time after school outside. Bring nature indoors; pick a flower or some branches, leaves, pine cones and put them in the kitchen or on the dining room table.  Sometimes pleasant scents (such as baking cookies, peppermints, or citrus scents) can uplift mood.

9.     CALL ME: Tell your child that they can call or text you any time during the day if they are worried or have a question. Let your kid know the schedule or plan for the day the night before and write it down on an index card. Write an encouraging note and include it in their lunch.

10. BELIEVE IN THEM: Tell them you believe in them and that you are there for them no matter what. Sometimes kids like hearing stories about when you were afraid or were starting something new as a kid, how you felt, and how your got through it, and how it worked out. Share those stories with them. 

11. READ TO THEM AT BEDTIME: Now is also a good time to (re)start reading to your child at night. Pick out a story you have enjoyed together in the past.

12.  REST: Take time for yourself. As a caregiver or parent, you are also going through this transition. Cut back on your workload if you can; say no to extracurricular activities for a time.

Good luck! New beginnings are exciting and challenging times. Face them with courage and compassion, for yourself and your child, and this too shall pass.

Read When It Rains

 

FORTUNE COOKIE:  

Farm when the sun shines, 

read when it rains.

Some middle-grade books we recommend for a rainy day: 

One Crazy Summer by Rita Williams-Garcia - two girls travel to Oakland in the summer of 1968 to visit their mother who is involved in the Black Panther movement
P.S. Be Eleven by Rita Williams-Garcia - The sequel to One Crazy Summer (equally as good)

Yuri's Brush with Magic by Maureen Wartski-- Kids find sea turtles and discover a family secret through the Japanese folktales their aunt tells 

The One and Only Ivan by Katherine Applegate - Told from a circus gorilla's perspective

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead - Newbery Medal-winning science fiction and mystery novel 

Liar and Spy by Rebecca Stead - Two friends go undercover in New York City

Hope Was Here by Joan Bauer - Hope and her aunt seek family and good fortune in a small-town diner

Passion

When I was a kid, I had a passion for ice skating.

During our earliest years in Brooklyn, my sister Susie and I would soap up the empty bathtub with Ivory and skate until we'd fall and clunk our heads. This happened so many times that the management took away our soap and closed our rink permanently.

I solved this issue by rising early one Sunday morning and cracking a dozen eggs on the kitchen floor.

Susie and I were having a grand time skating until crash landings summoned a sleepy father.  He started yelling about our breakfast, which was now broken yolk and eggshells on the floor.

My son was two when developed a passion for hockey. Wearing his duck bicycle helmet strapped about his chin, Nick would skate in socks across the kitchen linoleum and smack the orange plastic puck into the oven. His slap shot was so good that my husband would yell, “Put the biscuit in the basket!” from the dining room. Whenever we would set foot on the black-and-white linoleum, Nick would squeak, “Get off the ice!!”

The vacuum cleaner was the zamboni. This went on for years.

When I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, I had a dream.

In the dream, I was visiting a young friend who had made his home in a junkyard. There were all sorts of cars rusted and piled, one on top of another, in a huge field. I was lamenting that "my friend" could not see the treasure that was under this pile of rubbish. The junkyard was built on top of an ice skating rink. “You love skating!” I exclaimed. "Can’t you see it? It is right beneath your feet! All you have to do is clear out all these cars!” What I was saying to my dream self was:  You must clear out the detritus of your life -- the debris, the clutter, the rusted hunks of junk -- and uncover what is already here waiting for you; your dreams lie just beneath your feet.

There are many times in a person’s life when, at a tender age, they have the opportunity to share who they are with the world. That courage can sometimes lead to broken dreams smashed on the kitchen floor.

"I want to be a writer," I told my Dad, when I was 12. "Writers are weird," he replied. (I was discouraged; now, I consider myself well qualified...in the weird department!)

“I want to be a Buddhist monk,” my husband told the nuns at his school. Future horse trainer is what they put under his yearbook photo.

My son declared that he wanted to be a t-shirt designer when he grew up. “You can do better than that,” he was told. Crush. (Hey, Ralph Lauren started out designing ties.)

In our house, we now have a phrase. When someone criticizes someone else's ideas without listening to them, we yell, "Stop squashing my dreams!"

Growing up, I never told anyone my deep, dark secret: I wanted to be an entertainer -- a 1930s showgirl, in black and white, on Broadway. So what if couldn't sing on key and I was born in the wrong decade? Putting on a show – helping people through hard times using art, music, beauty, dance, and teamwork --  still speaks to me. The Show now equals books. The 1930s/Depression = preadolescence.

While clearing out what not longer serves us, we must identify and toss the mental chatter and old, out-dated messages about who we are and what is meaningful and valuable.

 

Junk the rusted Mustang, sell the Sunfish, donate your old shoes. Dump the broken records of other peoples’ expectations. Then, the ice will be clear for happy.

 

-- Amy C. Spaulding, Publisher, sleepyhollowbooks.com

Purpose may point you in the right direction but it’s passion that propels you.”
– Travis McAshan, Entrepreneur and Web Strategist

If passion drives you, let reason hold the reins.”
– Benjamin Franklin, American Statesman

The Palace Within

I was driving to pick up dog food at Costco, when I starting thinking about this blog post. My thoughts drifted to the parquet floors of Peterhoff, the summer home of the tsars.

I had been on a study abroad program to Leningrad. We had visited the Bolshoi Ballet; the Hermitage; the place where Pushkin had studied. We had inspected Mon Plaisir, where royals would lunch while enjoying spectacular views of the Gulf of Finland. (Good for the digestion.) After each course, the royal table would disappear into floor below, where servants would remove dishes and plate the next course. Then, whoosh, the table would rise again to waiting guests with forks poised.

It was all lovely. Really. Palaces, gardens, fountains, grand halls, amber brooches, malachite urns. Yes, there were diamond-encrusted clocks, delicate jeweled birds in golden cages, flattering oils, voluptuous silks, overstuffed beds. And there was I, traipsing through the Summer Palace in clumsy, felt strap-on sandals, when a funny thought entered my head. "Where is MY palace?"

Just days before, we students had visited the Leningrad Blockade Museum. Affixed to a piece of board was the recipe and proportions the bakers of Leningrad had used to make bread while the Germans were busy blockading their city for nearly 3 years. The wartime bread was made, in large part, of sawdust, shoe leather, and other detritus that could be consumed. Until that day, I did not know you could eat shoe leather.

And just miles away -- *snap* -- we found ourselves in this palatial estate, Peterhof -- (it is magnificent, you should really go there: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peterhof_Palace) -- where we had to remove our shoes (but thankfully, not eat them), so that we wouldn't scuff the parquet floors.

The timing of this served to tick me off. Why does one girl get to be a princess and one a pauper? Why does one get to walk in slippers in royal gardens and one is born into circumstances where life is spent barefoot -- not in Eden, but in poverty.

I wondered why, why, why. "And where is MY palace?" I asked the museum gods, wagging my finger at the fat little cherubs on the frescoed ceilings.

Granted, I have lived a life of luxury relative to the world's population. I have always had enough to eat. I was educated. I own a home and drive a car. I can afford pets.

But WHY don't I have a palace? I wondered, as I channeled my inner Eloise, the storybook heroine of the Plaza Hotel. I wondered this as I slid the length of the parquet ballroom floor in my government-issued slippers, turning the royal hall of masterpieces into an existential slip and slide. The museum guard chided me in Russian for my lack of decorum.

But before I heard his words, I heard my own. And the voice said: "Build your palace within."

Hmmm. I thought, "Build your palace within. What the heck does that mean?" I was still a teenager who liked pretty things.

As I was walking into Costco today, I passed the pyramid of Whey Protein Powder Shakes, the Jack LaLane Juicers (only $89 dollars!) and past cases with diamond bracelets and Lladro figurines. It was starting to feel just a little too much like a museum... and a slip-and-slide.

The photograph above was taken on the night of Dec. 4, 2010. (The launch of Sleepy Hollow Books and the debut of Maureen Wartski's novel, Yuri's Brush with Magic.) Here is my winter palace: the Regulator Bookstore in Durham, North Carolina. Although it may not be stately or ornate -- you might even call it modest -- it holds a jewel greater than the Tiffany Yellow Diamond. This simple building holds a heart and soul, the vortex of community, within its walls. It is run by a fellow named Tom Campbell and another gentleman named John Valentine; they feed the soul and warm the heart.

Happy Valentine's Day to one and all. May your palace within glow brightly this year.
xoxo Amy

(Photo credit: Caperton Morton Andersson)

Holding Up the Sky

We know Aesop’s fabled tortoise won the race, but what if hare and turtle were to take to the sea? The sea turtle would be my odds-on favorite. Sea turtles can cross oceans and swim in bursts of up to 30 mph when evading predators. Sea turtles are one of the few species so ancient that they watched the dinosaurs evolve and become extinct.

Sea turtles have survived for 150 million years. Now we are stewards of the Earth. Sea turtles have become endangered due to climate change, poaching, development, and pollution. If they go extinct, who will hold up the Sky?

My wish is that parents, librarians, and teachers use the novel Yuri’s Brush with Magic by Maureen Wartski in book clubs and middle-school classrooms to open discussion about these ancient sea creatures and how kids can help protect our environment.

Would you like to...

"Adopt" a sea turtle and track its progress on the computer? Click here: http://www.seaturtle.org/adopt/

Visit a sea turtle in person? Start here:
North Carolina Aquariums http://www.ncaquariums.com/
Karen Beasley Sea Turtle Rehab. Center http://www.seaturtlehospital.org/

Spend summer at a Sea Turtle Camp?
Check this out: http://www.seaturtlecamp.com/

Find a great holiday gift for your tween? Order a copy of Yuri’s Brush with Magic here: http://www.amazon.com/Yuris-Brush-Magic-Maureen-Wartski/dp/0982454252. For bulk orders, please contact amy@sleepyhollowbooks.com; (919) 724-0250

Tweet us: https://twitter.com/#!/sleepyhollowboo
Watch us: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WvT1rEkxN0M
Friend us: http://www.facebook.com/sleepyhollowbooks

“Anytime you see a turtle up on top of a fence post, you know he had some help.” -- Alex Haley

(Photo credit: Joe Tansey)

Another reason why I love North Carolina...

(Photo credit: Amy C. Spaulding)

Love the ones you're with

Yesterday was Respect for the Aged Day in Japan. People bring meals to the elderly; everyone has the day off, presumably to celebrate and help the elder citizens of their communities.

It got me thinking about my grandparents. I never knew my maternal grandfather, Al Smith. He died shortly after my parents were married. But his memory loomed large and he was a good friend and advocate for my mother. My paternal grandfather was a big personality – fun, smart, playful and loving. I would give anything to spend one more day on his front porch looking out at the mountains with his arm around me. There are some things that are indelible to the memory – like the feel of shirt fabric on a young arm or the gnarled thumbnail of a man who retired but never quit working.

My message to kids – to ANYONE who has a grandparent on this Earth: Be kind to them. Listen to them. Sit close to them. Rub their feet (if they like that). Give them as many hugs as you can. Tell them that you love them. Write them letters. (Especially thank you notes.) Believe me, you will miss them when they are gone.

The Freedom to Learn

Happy 4th of July!

Maureen Crane Wartski, author of Yuri's Brush with Magic, shared her thoughts about the gift of freedom. You can follow her blog at: http://maureenwartski.wordpress.com/ Enjoy!

The Freedom to Learn by Maureen Crane Wartski

This past week our grandson, Ben, graduated from Durant Middle School. Sitting amongst the crowd of proud parents, grandparents, relatives and friends, I watched as row after row of children from 6th to 8th grades rose to claim certificates and trophies: honors, high honors, awards of distinction. This beautiful grouping of young people made me think of one of our most precious freedoms: the freedom to learn.

At this time of year we are likely to think of Freedom, its implications, its precious legacy. Still, beyond those that are outlined in the constitution, beyond even the sacrifices that are made by dedicated men and women in the defense of our country, there are other freedoms which we as a democratic people too often take for granted. Education is one of them.

All right, I can hear the younger generation stirring. I can hear muttered protests that Grammy must finally have lost it. Since when has school equaled freedom? But though nowadays it is taken for granted, education wasn’t always available for all. Who can forget that in the poisonous days of slavery those in bondage were forbidden to learn to read or write? Or the ‘separate but equal’ laws or the shameful, segregated schools?

In the world today there are many impoverished communities where education is an unaffordable luxury and other lands where girls are not allowed to go to school because men fear that knowledge will empower them. There are totalitarian regimes that only allow their twisted version of the truth to be taught and which ruthlessly suppress and punish any who think otherwise. Yet even in those repressive places there are groups of young women who teach other women no matter what the consequences, and there are educators who speak out, students who dare to question, even though they lose their freedom…or worse. The thirst for knowledge is so strong, the need to learn so great, that it will not be denied.

Ben’s classmates wear their Freedom with ease. Why not? It is their birthright, after all. Theirs is a society in which all citizens are guaranteed the right to go to school. Granted, there have been agonizing cuts in education and the system of allocating schools is hardly perfect, but this is still a far cry from countries where the nearest school … if there is a school at all… is a five or ten mile walk away or where youngsters drop out of school at age nine to help support their families. All that is asked of our children is that they learn. And learn they do, these beautiful young people, discovering facts that my generation could only imagine. At their fingertips lie worlds of knowledge yet undreamed, and from them one day will come amazing new achievements.

They come, smartly dressed

Hair combed, shirts pressed, bright-eyed…

Sunny day in June.

Not so long ago, many women, forbidden to become doctors, endured slights, insults and countless difficulties to become healers. Now, there are women in every field: medicine, engineering, the arts, the sciences, education, politics… the list goes on and on. Not very long ago enslaved African Americans secretly learned their letters. They braved brutal punishment in doing so because they knew that without learning there was no understanding and without understanding there could be no hope for dreams.

And the freedom to dream— the knowledge that any one of us can make those dreams a reality— has to be one of the sweetest gifts of freedom.

Why I love living in North Carolina

A writer on every block...

Serendipity!

Serendipity |ˌserənˈdipitē|
noun
the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way : a fortunate stroke of serendipity | a series of small serendipities.

I had a wonderful interview with Frank Stasio on The State of Things program on WUNCFM 91.5 on Monday. We talked about Sleepy Hollow Books and my family’s history of promoting literacy and a love of books among young readers.

LISTEN NOW!
Click the link to hear the program.

Yuri's Brush with Magic is available from these fine booksellers... I hope you will patronize them.

Regulator Bookshop, The Gothic Bookshop, Flyleaf Books, Purple Crow Books, and Quail Ridge Books and Music
Also available on Amazon.com.

Have a serendipitous day!

Amy

Happy New Year! あけましておめでとうございます

I hope the new year finds you and your family well and happy!

To celebrate the end of 2010, I attended the year-end Mochi-Tsuki (rice cake pounding) event hosted by the Nippon Club of the Triangle.





Boiled sticky rice (餅米 mochigome) is put into a shallow stone bowl and patted with water and then pounded with a large wooden mallet. Mashing the rice, it forms a sticky white dumpling -- and can be eaten with all sorts of delicious toppings.

Mochi is also made into a New Year's decoration called kagami mochi (鏡餅), formed from two round cakes of mochi with a bitter orange (橙 daidai) placed on top. The name daidai is supposed to be auspicious since it means "several generations."

To write "Happy New Year" in Japanese: あけましておめでとうございます

To say "Happy New Year" in Japanese: Akemashite omedeto gozaimasu

10:10:10!

My friend Grace has a lovely quote on her website:

"Act each day as if the good that you do will change the world forever. Just as the sands of the Sahara blow across the Atlantic and sparkle a Caribbean sunset, your smile today can cross the oceans and provide a little goodness to a stranger on the other side of the world."

What a lovely sentiment. I had the great honor of traveling to the Duke Marine Lab in Beaufort, NC this past weekend. We had a series of lectures by NC Sea Turtle Biologist Dr. Matthew Godfrey, and scientists Campbell, Piniak, Boucquey, Bjorkland, and Ramus. I know so much more about sea turtles now!

Did you know that sea turtles are considered "living dinosaurs"? Fossil records date their species back to the time of the dinosaur. There are five remaining species of sea turtles on earth -- and all five are on the endangered list.

So it was a pleasure to help the folks at the Duke Marine Lab release three of the green turtles that they had rehabbed back to health -- into the wild.

On Sunday, October 10, 2010, we traveled on the Susan Hudson research vessel out to a good spot in the ocean and set the turtles free. This little turtle took off like a shot. It must have been the big smooch I gave him. Swim well, little fellow. Enjoy the Carribbean sunsets. Think of me. You certainly put a big smile in my heart.

White Sea Turtle

I went behind the scenes this weekend at the NC Aquarium at Pine Knoll Shores. We got to see this cute little guy close up, along with other rescued hatchlings that are being cared for by Michele Lamping -- one of the world's leading experts of sea turtle husbandry. Here is the link for more information about this special little fellow:
http://www.ncaquariums.com/what-would-you-name-a-white-sea-turtle
The NC Aquarium is running a contest to help name the turtle... give it a try!

Maureen Crane Wartski -- YURI'S BRUSH WITH MAGIC

HALLOWEEN!

Why do we love Halloween?

At Halloween we can be playful AND spooky without being too serious. We can play with our darker impulses during the holiday without acting on them. We can bring our shadows into light.

Books are a good place to grapple with the shadow. Peter Pan had his shadow. When he lost it, he returned to Wendy so she could sew it back on. GOOSEBUMPS has long been a series favorite. Now vampire tomes for teens and young adults flood the market. Our cultural shadow continues to morph and each generation draws its outline differently.

I have always enjoyed Halloween. I loved dressing up in costumes and looting neighborhood candy bowls. “Arghhh. Hand over your Snickers, Matey!” One Halloween I dressed up as "Laura" from LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE in a sunbonnet and gingham dress. Another year I was a hobo. More creative costumes usually involved wearing a painted cardboard box.

In retrospect, my favorite costume was the one my Mom made 5 minutes before my bus came.

“Mom--- Mom---Mom. I have a Halloween parade at school today. I need a costume.”

Mom headed to the linen closet. She grabbed a white sheet and her pinking shears. She cut out eyeholes, threw the sheet over my head, tied a red yarn ribbon around my neck and pushed me out the door.

“There, you’re a ghost. Go catch your bus.”

“But, Mom, I don’t wanna be a ghost,” I whined.

Slam. Door shut, case closed.

“Yay. Boo.” I said as I dragged my dingy gray Chuck Taylors to the bus stop wearing my sad little ghost costume.

Mom never had a problem with her shadow.

(Photo credit: "Halloween in Sleepy Hollow, 1978", by Emilie Spaulding)

The Hokey Pokey: What I Learned at the 2009 NC Literary Festival at UNC

Kids love funny. They love spooky. Kids love characters that make them laugh and shriek. If it’s going to be spooky – it better be funny spooky.

The two rock stars of the Children’s tent on Saturday at the 2009 NC Literary Festival were R.L. Stine and Judy Schachner – the authors of the Goosebumps and Skippyjon Jones series respectively.

Both were amazing presenters. They were highly interactive with their audience and involved the children in the telling of their stories. They had their programs well-rehearsed. They were playful, spontaneous and professional. They had the mastery of an unruly crowd that rivaled that of any elementary school teacher.

One author did highly personalized dedications and the line extended and snaked on at the book signing for over two hours. Now that’s the way to create a buzz. Everyone who passed asked, “What’s the line for?” like they were ready to jump on it – whether for winter boots or ice cream sandwiches.

It was totally worth the wait, because this author is a talented, lovely, and magnetic creative genius. I noticed, however, that the 12:00 noon hour for book-signings was torture for hungry and hot toddlers who have the patience of three-year-olds. Or for me.

The other author did not do personalized dedications, but simply signed, and took pictures with adoring fans. There was a two book maximum for signings and the crowd moved much more quickly through the book-signing process. We felt equally happy and attended to.

What I couldn’t get over was how darn nice and talented these authors are. Their patience and good-humor bordered on saint-like. Maybe the most important thing I learned from watching them work the crowd and do their thing is that, above all, they knew that children want to laugh, or shriek, and be entertained. These authors are great entertainers – on paper and in person.

Both authors voiced their belief that when a kid falls in love with a book or a character, that kid wants to read more and more – and that’s what it’s all about.

SHOUT OUT: Clay Carmichael read from her YA book, WILD THINGS. Zoe, her 12-year-old protagonist, has the sassy charm of Tatum O’Neal’s “Addie” in Paper Moon; she says those things you’d wished you’d thought of and is made for the silver screen. Catch WILD THINGS at a local bookstore near you…before Zoe goes Hollywood on us.

Musica Universalis

There can never be too much silence for me.

I hear everything -- the refrigerator rumbling, the cicadas clicking, the truck changing gears down the street. I hear the dogs sighing in the heat. I hear the tick-ticking of the wall clock, the crick of an ankle changing position. I hear a leaf falling to the ground, the scritch of bird shifting on a branch as it eats its berries outside my window.

I hear spiders singing to their children as they roll their egg pouch in silks. I hear the banana tree grow, the earthworm move and wriggle and tell all its friends about the time I dissected his great, great... great uncle in science class. I hear mosquitoes think about biting me.

I hear snakes shed their skin and new layers of bark slowly being added to the dogwood. I hear the mosses clinging to the hill and the rock mumbling "sorry" to the patch of grasses it has lain on for the past centuries.

I hear the spokes of a bike whistling in the wind and the frog's leaping toadstool slowly decaying in the crunchy wood. I can hear the trees thinking, dolphins playing, the sprites gathering in a cloudless form above me, waiting for me to talk back. I hear meadow heather whispering on purple plains -- they are very nearly shouting in their silence.

The Sunflowers in Tuscany are practically a riot of color and business -- stretching for miles and miles as we shoot past them on the train -- all yelling in unison -- "Slow Down. What's your hurry? You are so small. We -- so vast. What is so important anyway? We are here. Stay awhile and we will swallow you up."

I hear the waves lash the shores of Lake Winnipesaukee at night saying, "Nevermore, nevermore," over and over. Death is coming and they will keep talking and singing and humming. "Life is short. Slow it down a bit. And Listen. We have something to tell you that only we can tell -- and you will never be this way again."

I can hear butterflies flap their wings and pollen shouting "Wheeeeeeeee!" on the breeze. I can hear asphalt sizzle and water seep into the thirsty earth. I can hear the whole Earth humming and rocking and rolling and working and breathing and it is a symphony -- a cosmic kazoo -- a tissue-papered comb -- a planetary musical -- the music of the spheres.

Even my eyes can hear things not spoken. My ears can smell things and taste them and feel them. My ears are magic and bring me the intelligences of all sound.

My favorite movie as a child was DUMBO. Dumbo had the world's biggest ears and could fly. I always loved that -- that one's ears could set oneself free -- unchained from gravity.

I don't hear people talking to me when I am thinking. Can't listen to 2 conversations at once. I can't talk and listen to the radio at the same time.

But I can hear the moon spinning and that's enough for me.

Photo credit: Sleepy Hollow Books

Wealth

I grew up in a town of great wealth -- wealth of bygone days.

The Rockefellers lived up on the hill on their country estate -- sprawling farmland that overlooked the Hudson River. Nelson Rockefeller had his sculpture garden hidden away and all the private Rockie homes were off limits but the family opened the grounds to joggers and bikers and horseback riders -- even though they were really the only ones ever on horseback.

John D. Rockefeller used to ride his horse down the hill into town I was told, and give out dimes to the townspeople in the early 1900s. The town was famous for being the place about which Washington Irving, another resident, wrote THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW -- the tale of the headless horseman who scared the poor itinerant teacher, Icabod Crane, by brandishing a false pumpkin head on a blazing steed. I always imagined John D. Rockefeller also haunting the town -- also on horseback -- hopefully doing good deeds -- or at least leaving little dimes on the pavement.

I spent my girlhood in Warner Library -- a grand Italianate library with pillars and palladian windows and high celings. The ornate bronze carved door, depicting Poseiden and the sea nymphs, was brought back from Italy. Although you could push it open or closed with just one finger because it was perfectly engineered, it probably weighed half a ton. Oil paintings of society ladies -- the Warners -- looked out over me as I sat in the wingback chairs reading Ranger Rick magazines or LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE. It was like sitting in someone's really fine library at home, but anyone could come in and pick up a book and read.

When I went back on my last visit to Tarrytown, I visited the library and said a little prayer to the ladies in the oil paintings and thanked them -- the mother and daughter-- for creating a sanctuary for me as a girl.

I would come in from school each afternoon. I'd walk down to the library and Carol B. Caro, the white-haired but young children's librarian, would greet me. She knew me by name. "What are you looking for today, Amy?" she would say in the most cheerful, but library quiet voice. She was always happy and knew everything about books. She wasn't very tall so a kid could see eye-to-eye with her.

She would lead me down aisles of open shelving in the Children's Reading Room and pull off Little Women, Robinson Crusoe, Wuthering Heights, A Wrinkle In Time, I don't recall all the titles and authors -- Judy Blume -- everything a girl could want to dive into. I don't know if Carol knew I wasn't very happy and didn't fit in. She didn't really chat much. Her job was to feed me books to occupy my mind and to divert it from sadness.

I see Carol all the time -- maybe once a year -- at big occasions -- usually at weddings. I think I have told her what she meant to me back then -- how she saved me by being caring and interested but never too close. She let me do the discovering, the reading, the returning, and she was always there -- constant as the proverbial Northern Star and ready to turn over another page.

#42 - Pet a dog

STRESS BUSTING 101: What do I know about stress? EVERYTHING!

If you are feeling pressed, stressed, or blue, you can use this list as a stress-busting oracle: Close your eyes, blow out your breath slowly, and think of a number between 1-50.

Now look at the list and consider doing the following…

1. Take a bath (add Epsom salts for a good soak)
2. Have a cup of tea
3. Go for a run
4. Go for a walk (and do soothing self talk; flip the worry -- see if you can see the POSITIVES about why the roof leaks: The sound of soothing raindrops eliminates need for plug in feng-shui fountain; better view of the sky; cute repairperson; good time to add on an addition/solar panels...)
5. Draw a cartoon about the issue...include a positively outrageous solution
6. Put on music
7. Dance, dance, dance
8. Hit the heavy bag
9. Call your sisters
10. Call a friend (put their name on your stress-busting list with phone number)
11. Do a load of laundry; take out the garbage; unload the dishwasher; sort the sock drawer
12. Go swing outside; preferably in a park around kids; do not wear trenchcoat
13. Pull weeds
14. Transplant something
15. Lie in the hammock and read
16. Write a letter to someone
17. Go outside. Now.
18. Crouch down and touch the earth with your bare hands and feet
19. Hug a tree
20. Swim
21. Stretch; do yoga
22. Breathe out slowly
23. Have a drink of cold water
24. Splash cold water on your face
25. Write down your complaints and worries
26. Read a book under the covers and and take quiet time
27. Write a gratitude list of 10 things that make your life better. Now write 10 more.
28. Go for a bike ride
29. Yell in the car (preferable alone)
30. Color, draw or paint
31. Hit a tennis ball against a backboard; go to the batting cage
32. Call a therapist or smart, unflappable friend
33. Call Mom
34. Recycle something
35. Say or write positive affirmations -- put the really good ones on your bathroom mirror
36. Say a prayer (Lord’s prayer; Buddhist or Jewish blessings)
37. Sing Christmas carols to yourself (my favorites are Silent Night and Here Comes Santa Claus)
38. Have a green drink (a fruit smoothie or Odwalla Superfood green drink)
39. Take your medicine or vitamins – Vitamin B
40. Take flower essences (Bach’s rescue remedy)
41. Meditate
42. Pet a dog or cat
43. Hold a child
44. Go ice skating
45. Lie down
46. Go to the movies and see a COMEDY
47. Water the plants
48. Vacuum or sweep
49. Walk, walk, walk – take the dog with you
50. Get bodywork; massage; or ask a pal for a hug
51. Turn off the news; turn on the music -- and sing

(Remember, always take your own preferences and needs into account. Check with a medical professional before you get too wiggy. This is my personal list. Make your own list of 51 things you can do to soothe yourself when you are feeling upset or stressed.

Let me know what works for you!

(Photo credit: Joe Tansey Jr.)