We had some friends visiting from out-of-town, and as often happens when you live outside of Washington, D.C., we ended up at a museum.  We chose the Smithsonian American Art Museum (Off the Mall!  We found parking!), where a collection of works by Norman Rockwell was on display.

Norman Rockwell was probably the first artist I discovered as a kid.  My parents had a huge hardcover album of his artwork, and I remember looking at the pictures until the dust jacket was in tatters.  It may be fashionable for some to shun Rockwell as too commercial and unchallenging, but all the same, I thought there were some valuable lessons for writers, especially children’s book writers, therein.

First, it should be noted that the works on display were not just a random collection, but pieces from the collections of Steven Spielberg and George Lucas.  What do two of the most famous filmmakers of our time have to do with Norman Rockwell?  As we found out in a short film accompanying the exhibit, PLENTY.  Both Spielberg and Lucas spoke movingly of admiring Rockwell’s Saturday Evening Post covers from an early age, and his ability to instantly convey a story in a visual way.  My favorite example of this was a Post cover called “The Flirts,” which had two older truck drivers glancing down admiringly at a pretty blonde girl in the car next to them.  To quote Spielberg’s comment on the painting, ” ‘the men’s glances are totally innocent, completely moral,’ and ‘at the same time, just naughty enough’ that you know these guys aren’t ‘total squares.’”  One of the men is plucking a daisy.  And my favorite detail is the reflection on the back of the sideview mirror – the light has changed to green, but the drivers obviously have no intention of driving any time soon. 

So lesson one: the bones of the story should be apparent, at least by the tensions in the story.  You can count them here: men vs. women, old vs. young, the presence of unattainable beauty.  Another great one is called “Boy on High Dive,” with a young man peering fretfully over the edge of a 20 foot high dive.  What he wants most is what scares him. 

Spielberg and Lucas also talked about characters, how Rockwell “cast” his paintings, much like a director casts a film.  No one is chosen at random – everyone in the picture has a function and a particular ability to convey an emotion or idea.  Lesson two: no “clutter” characters.  Make sure your story is not littered with characters who are just crowding out your ideas.

Finally, the filmmakers pointed out that Rockwell had an uncanny ability to convey the history of each subject in an instant: the coatcheck girl who longs for a better life or the airman who is easing back to civilian life.  You can tell by their expressions and the tiniest details that Rockwell inserts into his pictures.  Look at “Back to Civvies,” and you can catch all the details of the man’s before and after lives.  A high school pennant and a girl’s photograph are juxtaposed with the picture of an airplane and a detailed military jacket draped over a chair.  They’re not there for you to notice first – you’ll first look at the man looking at himself in the mirror – but the details are there for you to discover.  Likewise, characters in stories develop depth and interest through the small details of their lives, as well as the large ones.  (Lesson three, for those you keeping score at home.)

I love finding inspiration for better writing in unexpected places.  Where have you found your inspiration?

I go through fits and spurts of practicing Chinese.  I’ve been in a good place lately, meeting up with a language partner every week so that I can practice Chinese and she can practice English. 

The practice made me brave enough that when I overheard a Chinese grandmother at a school playground the other day, I spoke up, in Chinese.  In the past, I’ve always been a little afraid of getting too quickly in over my head, but I was feeling pretty confident in standard mom-talk.  How old is your grandson?  He seems shy!  My oldest goes to school here.  Just don’t try  to talk to me about foreign policy or existentialism.

The grandmother seemed to welcome the conversation, and we chatted for a few minutes.  I missed a few words here and there, but held my end up, I thought.  Then she overheard another mom say, in English, ”I’m going to help out.”

What did she say? she asked me.  I translated.  Then she asked me to repeat the sentence in English.  I repeated it.  Then she tried to write the sentence down phonetically, she could practice.  We said it together.  “Ai mmmm go-ING to hellll-puh ow-t.”

It took me a few minutes to figure out why she wanted to say this particular sentence so badly.  Then it hit me.  She didn’t speak a lick of English.  Any sentence was better than nothing.

I thought about how this woman taking care of her three grandchildren all day, and what she would do if something happened, if she needed help and no one was around to transate.  I told her about the Literacy Council of Northern Virginia, where I had worked when I was fresh out of college, which offers the services of trained volunteers to tutor people who want to learn English.  She waved me off.  No time, she said, though not before asking how much it cost.  I offered to take her phone number and call her with more information, but she refused.  And then I was stuck – out of words, and unsure whether to be any pushier would be rude.

I have to say that normally, I’m a live-and-let-live kind of person.  I may not agree with your decision, but I’ll let you be.  But this woman is sticking in my head.  There are things people say are milestones in learning a new language – understanding and using idioms, say, or taking down a phone number (my mom still says phone numbers in Chinese).  I think this is another one – I wish I had had the words to talk to her a little longer, to persuade, or at least push the door open a little more.  It’s one more goal to work on.

Hey! Today was my day to post at the very fabulous From the Mixed-Up Files. I interviewed Georgia Chirieleison, children’s selector for the Fairfax County Public Library system, which means she buys every single book intended for patrons up to 18 years old. Want to guess how many books that is? She is a very busy lady, and was kind enough to spend some time with me on the inner workings of a library.

I’m THRILLED to announce that a brand spankin’ new group blog devoted to all things related to middle-grade books has debuted today.  Whether you’re a reader, a writer, a teacher or a librarian, there will be something for you.  To kick things off, From the Mixed-Up Files is offering a nine book giveaway.  To check out the books and enter to win, visit from themixedupfiles.com today…and look for my blog entry in a couple of weeks!

I recently showed the results of Fuse 8’s Top 100 Chapter Books poll (sorry, link is not working right now) to my husband and he was intrigued.  We had read all seven of the Harry Potter books out loud to each other, and more recently, he’s been reading the Percy Jackson series with our oldest son, but he recognized that perhaps there are some children’s books that everyone should read.

He asked me to pick out some books for him (and stole my copy of Anne of Green Gables along the way!).   He has read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and A Wrinkle in Time, but I think his best reaction so far has been to Katherine Paterson’s Bridge to Terabithia.  He was, as he would probably say, perturbed when Leslie died.  It was a great book, he said, right up until that point.  After I explained that the story emerged from the sudden death of a friend of Katherine Paterson’s son, he was only slight mollified.  It may the point of the book, he said, but still.  And of course I understand.  We all adored Leslie, right along with Jess, because haven’t we all needed somone like Leslie at some point or another in our lives? 

Husband is a great lover of history, so he might enjoy some of Paterson’s other works, too, such as The Master Puppeteer.  But first, he has to finish From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler.  And I’ll be posting some of my “make-up reads” here as well.

I attended the volunteer luncheon at my local library last week.  I volunteer with the Ready-to-Read program, which brings library-style reading programs to child care centers in my area.  It’s a good, challenging gig – a successful program will buoy me through the day, but a bad one will haunt me.  I’m still working on group management, and I’ve definitely learned, the hard way, that less is more.

The luncheon itself was lovely, and since my children and I go to the library no less than once a week, I felt like I was among friends.  Since the library’s 25th anniversary is coming up, the volunteer coordinator put together a very entertaining where-were-you-25-years-ago show, including a slide show and two very intrepid librarians willing to don leg warmers and ripped t-shirts.

But there was also a slight air of sadness.  These are tough times, and it was evident in the silver-lining voice that the district supevisor used to tell us that the library service for the homebound has been saved because every member of the county board of supervisors had a parent or spouse who had used this program.  The periodicals section is littered with notices that subscriptions are not being renewed because of budget cuts, and closing time has been cut from 9 pm to 8 pm, which I imagine rules out the library for many people who just can’t get there any earlier.

We still had the luncheon, that’s true.  I think it was about pride even during cutbacks, showing the volunteers appreciation, which librarians themselves do not receive enough of.  The real insult, of course, is that librarian jobs are threatened when people need libraries the most.   People are borrowing more books, they are looking for jobs, they are going to networking events.  All of this happens at the library.  “My” library served over a quarter-million people last year.  Its meeting rooms are booked way in advance for every kind of community group you can imagine.  If you speak Farsi, Vietnamese or Thai, there are staff members to help you.  

I’m a little late for National Library Week (mark your calendars for next year, April 10-16), but I’ll put this out in the blogosphere anyway.  Thank your librarian, even when it isn’t “their” day.  I don’t know about you, but when I go to the library, I always feel better walking out than I did walking in, and I think librarians should feel that way, too.

I’m going to connect dinner planning with the Writing Life, really, so bear with me.  There are times in your life when you need the failsafe dinner.  When I was working on my edits over the holidays, my mantra was Always Buy Frozen Pizza.  My freezer was always stocked with ‘em, which meant that I had one less thing to worry about.  And one less thing to worry about meant more mental energy for writing.  (See – connection!)  And sometimes, I think just knowing I had the back-up created a little space in my life so that I could actually think of and cook a dinner.

These days, my family and I are in the thick of it with sports.  Spring means baseball and soccer, which in turn means lots of hurry-up-eat-this-before-we-go-to-practice dinners.

Here’s a quick meal I’ve concocted – and it takes about as long to make as a frozen pizza does to bake.  Maybe even less, and you get some fruits and veggies into your little darling (one less thing to worry about!).  All three of my children like it, which is some kind of miracle (and means that your family will probably like it too). 

Breakfast (for dinner) Sandwiches and Smoothies

The smoothie is easy, and gets lots of fruit into your kid.  We put bananas, yogurt and frozen mangoes and strawberries in a blender, along with some orange juice.  Blend (and add orange juice) until you reach the consistency you like.

Breakfast sandwich

Ingredients: Cooking spray, English muffins, egg, frozen chopped spinach, milk, ham and cheese

Microwave a large handful of frozen spinach  to defrost. Spray the inside of a wide bowl (the egg will spread out and cook better this way), and then scramble an egg in it.  Add salt & pepper, defrosted spinach, and a bit of milk.  Microwave for a minute, or until the center is nice and firm.

I find that one egg is about right for two sandwiches.  Cut the cooked egg in half, fold in half, and place on bottom half of an English muffin.  Add ham and cheese and muffin top.  Put the sandwich in the toaster oven for a few minutes to melt the cheese.

Voila!  Dinner with food group coverage.  One less worry.  More writing/driving to baseball/figuring out how to be in two places at the same time.  Tell me, what are your best tricks for freeing up brain power on busy days?

One of the great pleasures of writing stories is getting to name your characters. It’s like naming your children, only you don’t have to argue with your spouse.

Children’s lit is scattered with some great names, and names that have become associated with greatness. Neil Gaiman’s main character in The Graveyard Book, Nobody “Bod” Owens, springs to mind as an example of a name that explicitly reminds the reader of the character’s shadowy life between the living and dead.  Some characters become so beloved that we mention their names as beloved friends: Harriet, Fudge, Milo.  And then there are characters are so well-known they become known even by their initials. Say it with me. Aych. Pee.

Even though children’s writers are eternally young at heart, I’ve noticed an occasional tendency to use names from one’s own childhood.  I think this is a missed opportunity, at least for contemporary novels.  A kid spy in today’s world should not be named Barbara UNLESS it is a plot point.  Otherwise, it’s a name kids probably associate with an older generation but not themselves.  While I don’t know if any editor or agent would actually reject a story because of a dated or out-of-place name, it is, I’m guessing, a terrible distraction that can be easily avoided.

On the other end of the spectrum, consider Jennifer Hubbard’s debut novel, The Secret Year, with its protagonist, Colt.  Working-class Colt is secretly dating upper-class Julia, until she is killed in a car accident and Colt must deal with the aftermath.  I think it’s a genius name, unusual but not unfamiliar, and to me, the name suggests both the roughness of a young horse but also its appeal.

My own name was only popular for a very limited period of time, and would probably be a bit jarring in a story set in today’s world.  (Though I have been meeting a terrific number of Wendy’s through kidlit events.  The last Kidlitosphere event had five, count ’em FIVE, of us.) 

You can check websites like babynamer.com or this one from the Social Security administration to get an idea of how your name fits in with a particular era.  One of my favorite sources are the lists of top high school athletes that come out from Parade magazine: those kids always seem to have a good mix of trendy names as well as enduring traditional ones.

What are YOUR favorite names in children’s lit, or inspirations for naming characters?

It is a common device in children’s movies to have a cast o’ zany characters – the cool guy, the brainy girl, the jock, etc. What I realized, though, while watching G-Force* with my kids was that it works so doggone well. It’s not just that overdrawn characters make it easier to keep track of who is who, it’s that the kids love it.

For those of you not familiar with the cinematic tour de force that is G-Force, it is about a team of guinea pigs sent on a special mission. My kids were immediately hooked. “I’m that one,” announced my daughter, claiming the sole female in the group. “I’m that one,” said my older son, drawn to the weapons-happy guinea pig. “I’m that one,” said the middle child, liking the guinea pig who was funny. I’ve noticed since then that they do this almost every time we watch a movie – they want that connection, that identity.

Their pronouncements reminded me of one of the reasons I write: to give a child to say, I’m that one, in response to a book. Maybe the character is just like the reader by circumstance or demography; I still remember just loving Tracy Wu in Blubber because I had not seen a contemporary Chinese-American character in a book up until then. Maybe the character has a talent or ability that the reader aspires to; or solves a problem that the child needs help with. Whatever the motivation, I like to imagine that as we become more aware of all the varieties of lives and circumstances in the world, that our books and characters are spreading outward, giving more children a chance to say, I’m not alone. I’m that one.

I have my copyedits now, which is very cool. I love all the notations on my beloved book – all that close personal attention! Who knew that qi-pao, the Chinese high-collared dress with the frog closures near the shoulder, was hyphenated? I didn’t know, but I am so grateful that my copyeditor did.

And among all the wee details is my ISBN. *Sigh* I can’t tell you exactly why seeing the ISBN is sending me into a swoon, except that it probably has something to do with being on the path to being official. I even looked it up on Wikipedia, which has a very nice entry about the whole process. For a quick tour, go grab a book and play along. I took out my copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

If your ISBN starts with a 978, the book was assigned its ISBN after January 1, 2007, and has a 13-digit ISBN. The “978″ indicates that this is a product dealing with the publishing industry, and was created to help streamline global markets.

If your book, like my dear Harry Potter 1 here, was assigned its ISBN before January 1, 2007, then it will probably start with a 0 or 1, and that would also be the next number in the 13-digit code. This indicates an English-speaking area. Then comes the publisher code (there may be more than one per publisher – Harry Potter is published by Scholastic and in this case, it’s 540), the title number, and a “check digit” which is a formula to make sure that none of the numbers are transposed, which would be bad. To geek out even further, the different publishing formats of the same title (hardback, trade paperback, etc.) gets its own unique ISBN.

More than you probably wanted to know, but feel free to think of me as one of those new parents who can rhapsodize for several minutes about the very adorableness of the tip of the baby’s nose.