Golden Reading Moments

Coming Event: Saturday, September 1, 2007, 11:00 a.m.

Join Lucky the Golden Retriever for R.E.A.D. story time

At The King’s English Bookstore in Salt Lake City

R.E.A.D. dogs are nationally certified therapy dogs from Intermountain Therapy Animals. They also have additional training and licensing as reading companions to promote literacy and help children find new ways of making reading fun. Though they can’t read they are very attentive and non-judgmental listeners when a child is reading a book to them. Currently Intermountain Therapy animals have licensed over 1300 R.E.A.D. teams in 48 states (the Dakotas are the only two where they do not have teams) and Canada, Poland, Japan, Belgium and Israel.

Article reprinted by permission of The King’s English. Photo from internet, source unknown

Today's post is dedicated to the memory of Sally Frances Haws, a Golden Retriever so special, she merited a middle name.

Kids!

We have three sons. If we'd known, when they were born, how distinctly different they would be from each other, I think we'd have given each the middle name of "Diversity."

The oldest got his Eagle Scout, went on a mission, married in the temple, and has a darling new baby. He is in his third year of medical school at Wright State University and lives in Dayton, Ohio. When he has a chance to play soccer, he gives it 150 per cent. He has a small build, is well-coordinated, and has blond hair, blue-gray eyes and fair skin.

Our second has a degree in exercise science from USU. He spent a semester in Finland, fell in love with a local beauty, and eventually married her in a Lutheran ceremony in Jyvaskyla, Finland. He plays and coaches American style football. That's right, football, not soccer. The Junior team he coaches just won the Finnish national championship this summer. Our long-distance contribution as team sponsors was to send them to Pizza Hut for a celebratory dinner. Yes, they have Pizza Hut in Finland. Now, the Senior team on which he plays is in the national playoffs. The finals will be televised on Finnish TV, a first. When football is over he will return to his master's thesis (in an English-speaking Exercise Science program at the University of Jyvaskyla), concentrate on more intensive Finnish language classes, and then consider his employment options. He has a stocky, sturdy build, an olive complexion, brown hair and turquoise-blue eyes.

Our youngest attends the University of California at Berkeley. A bachelor, he is totally immersed in the Berkeley lifestyle and doing well in his classes. His major is computer engineering, and he knows he's responsible for supporting his parents in their old age. He will put us in a Home, he has assured us. He and two colleagues have recently started a business which provides remote computer repairs to customers anywhere in the world. I hope it takes off. Berkeley's tuition is stiff. Since arriving at Berkeley he has joined the Democratic Party, the Honors Society, and the ACLU. Last fall he participated in the annual Free Hugs campaign, which was a joy to watch on YouTube. He is our tallest at 5'10, blond, with fair skin and blue eyes.

Teachers and administrators have always had some difficulty connecting these young men with their parents. Once, in a perverse attempt at joke, I told someone the older two (18 months apart and the same size for many years) were twins. Identical twins.

But if you don't have a sense of humor, I don't recommend parenting.

As the years pass and these young men continue to pursue their individual dreams, we embrace their diversity and individuality. And we love 'em to bits. So to Kevin & Emily and Baby Paige, BJ & Marica, and Jeff, long-distance hugs from Mom. I'm proud of all of you, but I miss you!

My Dark and Stormy Night Sentence

Six LDS Writers and A Frog is sponsoring a "worst beginning of an LDS novel" contest. Read all about it at their blog (see link). Since it was introduced with a reference to Snoopy, I couldn't resist posting a picture of Snoopy as my favorite writer here.

Here is my entry (although I had to reduce it to 100 words for the contest):


Tifffany Jo surveyed the spectacular multi-colored horizon, which showed no hint of storm, but given the dark and deeply troubled state of her achy-breaky heart that night, a raining cats-and-dogs thunder and lightning storm would have been a call to repentance for Jason, if he was even watching Kevin Eubank’s weather report, that he should turn his back on the sudden and drastic changes he had made in his life just yesterday: the Bic- shaved head (oh, that beautiful wavy brown hair with its receding hairline, how she missed it already!), the beginnings of a scraggly beard sprouting under his lower lip, the new Harley he had bought with his BYU student loan, the pierced eyebrow, the tattoo of Snoopy as the Red Baron on his upper arm, the studded leather jacket that didn’t quite cover his growing paunch, even though he had joined a Guy’s Gym the week before, and his new band of biking friends who called themselves the Bald and the Beautiful; she knew with all her heart that if she endured to the end and maintained the sweet spirit she had cultivated so faithfully since entering the Young Women’s Program at age twelve, with the same patience and persistence she had shown while waiting faithfully for him while he served his mission to Preston, Idaho, just as she had unfailingly made payments on the wedding dress of her dreams at Eternal Promises Wedding Salon (during the Best Two Years of His Life), that she could inspire Jason to return to his former returned missionary persona, whereupon, dressed in dark slacks, white shirt and tie, he would drop to one knee in front of the Wilkinson Center, a perfect red rose in one hand and a velvet box holding a one-carat diamond ring in the other (the ring financed by the sale of his Harley), and beg her to forgive him his trespasses and to make him the happiest man on earth; she knew with all her heart that she could change him, just as her mother had changed the man she had married, who now didn’t speak until spoken to, meekly took out the garbage and mowed the lawn, who never voiced an opinion that didn’t originate with his wife, and always voted Republican.

How do I love thee, Dad?

For my husband's 50th birthday I asked our three sons to each compose a list of fifty observations about their dad. They could be memories, comments, etc. Just a list of fifty things. One was emailed to me and had rather formal language (the youngest son was about nineteen going on forty), another (after several reminders of the due date) rambled a bit, and the third was dicatated to me from a phone booth in Pocatello, Idaho. "We just finished our soccer game, Mom, and it's midnight, I'm barefooted and it's pouring rain, and have I said fifty things yet?"

Each list was so characteristic of the writer, it was choice. And the boys' comments reminded me that we often don't know what our children really think of us. The reflections were funny, honest, and touching.

There's a wonderful tribute at latterdayauthors.com. It's an out-of-season mother's day letter, which I highly recommend. I hope David Wooley's mother has read it by now. It's sure to bring a tear and a smile to her face. And it's not even Mother's Day, when we feel so obligated to come up with profound sentiments. This is a keeper. Check it out at www.latterdayauthors.com.

They forgot the words

We measure the summer days by the number of hummingbirds dive-bombing around the feeders we hang in the back yard and the amount of syrup they consume. We have counted as many as 15 during the "cocktail hour," at twilight. We've recently had a few days of intermittent thunderstorms, and now one lonely hummer hovers around the feeders.

No fair! It's too early for them to leave (we're not sure where they go each year). Our nighttime temperatures have remained warm, and there's not a hint of fall in the air yet. But something signaled the beautiful creatures to leave. The poor hummer who was left behind is remaining mum. We recall the old joke that hummingbirds hum because they've forgotten the words.

Whatever caused this early exodus, it's saddening. The university students are back in full force, adding to the traffic in stores and on our streets, and injecting vitality into the community. The public schools start this week, too, but the hummers weren't scheduled to exit. Not yet.

It's been a long, hot summer. But I'm not ready for fall. Maybe the abrupt departure of the hummers is a signal to "get with the program."

No Rock & Roll for Cows in Preston

I recently learned that rock and roll music was banned in Preston, Idaho for many years. Of course, I immediately assumed that folks in Preston regarded Elvis and his ilk as evil influences, and sought to protect their youth from rock's harmful effects.

But I was entirely wrong. Rock and roll music was banned in Preston, Idaho because cows simply don't like it. Soothing music must be played on the radio whilst cows are being milked, in order to give the best quality and quantity of milk. Who knew?

Hands and Faces, Earth and Sky

is the second line of a song by Andrew Lloyd Webber, from Aspects of Love:

Love, love changes everything,
Hands and faces, earth and sky . . .
Love, love changes everything,
How you live and how you die . . .

It's a lovely song, a signature piece of singer Michael Ball's. So why am I blogging about hands and faces and Sir Andrew's lyrics today? Because, in proofing my novel, I came across an interesting passage. My character, Hugh, doesn't want to go out and drink with the other hands on the ranch. His boss understands and asks him to stay behind on Friday nights, to do extra chores (with extra pay, too), thus allowing Hugh to "save face with the other hands." AAAAAAAh! Thank goodness I caught my terrible, unintended pun. I hope there aren't any more we've overlooked!

Hotel library in Stockholm

This is a picture taken in the lobby of the Scandia Hotel in Stockholm, Sweden. It's a huge library and reading room! A great place for a bibliophile! In addition to this huge circular bookcase in the middle, the lobby is also lined with bookcases on the walls. Some of them were even in English!

short story feedback/encouraging words

I met with an editor at Writers@Work last June. His feedback on my short story: "I think your voice is strong and consistent; it has a timeless appeal to it. Re the story: its virtue is simplicity."

Today I finished my first batch of proofs; hope they make sense to the editor.

Home and working on proofs

I am home from Ohio and my daughter in law and the baby have left for Burley. The baby is simply adorable. What a joy!

Now I am tackling my proofs, addressing questions the editor had about sources and other details (very thorough, which I appreciate) so it will be an important and painstaking process.

Yesterday my student and I recorded his Storycorps interview. I think he did a great job. It's exciting to know that one copy of the CD will go to the National Archives, and that segments may be aired on Utah Public Radio or NPR! I got the easy part, asking questions, and I already knew the answers to most of them, so I just guided him through a few stories we had agreed he wanted to share.

The Wild River and Unexpected Pleasures

Last night while watching "The River Wild" I reminisced with my son about a trip we took to the Rogue river in Oregon, where the movie was filmed. Though our trip wasn't as exciting as Meryl Streep's (we weren't hijacked by a gun-wielding Kevin Bacon, and we had an expert guide who steered us through some scary rapids, one of which required helmets) I think our children's favorite memory was seeing three large turtles perched on a log as we floated down a perfectly smooth portion of the river. I remember feeling as carefree as Huck Finn. When we came closer to the log, the turtles let go one at a time and dropped into the river: "Plop, plop, plop!" The boys were hysterical with laughter.

The guide told us that every spring all the river guides raft down the river, and memorize every section of it. Each year the river's character changes due to climate, water volume, shifts in the river bottom, and other factors. They don't take a bit of it for granted. Our guide was seasoned and experienced. When we approached the biggest of the rapids, we pulled over and he talked us through it. Everyone knew where to sit, which way to lean, and how many strokes of the oars to take when instructed. We donned our helmets and put our lives in his capable hands.

"OK, four strokes and then pull your oars in!" he yelled. One, two, three, four . . . "Hold on, folks, we're going through backwards!" We held on, went through backwards, and then, when we were on a quiet stretch, we took off our helmets and he told us what had happened.

"All the way, during the hour before we reached the rapids, I had estimated everyone's strength. I seated you where you needed to be in order to balance the raft. What I didn't estimate was your adrenalin. When we hit the rapids, your oar strokes were stronger than I expected. Three would have been enough. By the fourth, I knew we were turned around, and that's the way we took the rapid."

Quite simply, we didn't know what we were capable of accomplishing. In the writing world, that extra kick of adrenalin, of determination, may be what makes the difference between good and excellent, published and not published.

We also had excellent guidance on the river, and that is available to us as writers in many forms: writing groups, workshops, peer, judge and editor feedback, and our own ability to edit and improve as we develop our skills.

And let's not forget the extra bonus of the plopping turtles. We should have fun along the journey, and not miss those unexpected moments of pure pleasure.

Back up, back up, back up!

I promise I'm going to email my pertinent files to myself, and to my sister, so it won't be so difficult to retrieve them when I forget to pack my flash drive! You'd think I'd learn that one of these days!

My manuscript is now with the proofers, so I should get the galleys in a couple of weeks. I'll be excited to see them! My first work of fiction to be published!

Today I am blogging from Dayton, Ohio, where it is hot and muggy. Thank goodness for AC! The new baby is darling and cuddly and I'm loving being Grandma J.

Left w/o my flash drive, and as this is a new laptop, didn't have a thing to work on. Hopefully a remote hookup to my home computer will take care of that, with the help of youngest son.

Getting ready for publication

This is so exciting: I will have interviews or book reviews from Marsha Ward, Tristi Pinkston, Rachel Ann Nunes, and Charlene Hirschi of the Logan Herald Journal. And I have a good list of other contacts, thanks to Jaime at LDStorymakers.com. I hope to get a national review or two. Keep your fingers crossed for me! Release date is November, and most national reviewers want ARC or bound galleys 3-4 months in advance, so with the help of my most capable nephew (who's in Sci/Fi publishing) I will have the appropriate materials to send out. And I've received a copy of a press release from Jewel, which is a great example of how to write one. So while I'm in Ohio (being grandma!) I will be putting together a press kit.

The most important reason I'm going to Ohio, though, is to meet my beautiful new granddaughter, Paige (as if you haven't seen her pictures posted here). But I will also take my laptop!

And any of you experienced/published writers who'd like to make suggestions, please comment!
Now I've gotta pack!

Thanks,

Grammy Janet