Tomorrow, Tomorrow, the play’s done Tomorrow, It’s only a day awaaayyy!

Warning: the following blog is cavity-inducing sweet & Cheese Whiz-tastic.

I’ve been directing the school play, Annie, for approximately the last four and a half years. Okay, it’s only really been since November.

Why they chose someone who can’t sing, can’t dance, to direct the school musical, I’ll never know. It could have something to do with my complete inability to say ‘no.’ Or it could be that tattoo I have on my forehead (it says ‘pushover’ in invisible Sanskrit).

Knowing that tomorrow is the last time I’ll hear the song “Tomorrow” sung by 108 ten & eleven year olds (and accepting that it will be months before I get all the catchy choruses out of my head), I decided to dedicate this blog to the lessons learned from those scrappy orphans and big Daddy Warbuck’s.

Here’s where the saccharine overload begins.

Lessons I’ve learned from Annie
“I think I’m going to like it here!” – When faced with a new situation *gulp* keep a positive attitude and an open mind. And if the laundry hamper you’re hiding in tips over while Bundles the laundry man is pushing you off stage – just go with the flow & improvise. Plans don’t always work the way you expect them to.
“It’s a hard knock life” (sometimes) – There are bad days: days when words won’t come; days that queries get rejected; days when you get thrown up on during the in-school performance (true story) – but these don’t last.
“You’re never fully dressed without a smile” – Nothing makes a bad day worse than a bad mood. I’m not made of cheer & sparkles, but when I give in to crankiness, it never helps the situation. Plus, smiling’s contagious!
“I don’t need anyone but: “ my feedback groups (both of them), my writers’ workshop, my first readers, my blogger friends, my twitter friends…. Okay, I need a lot of people. I’m no Thoreau going off to write in the wilderness. These are the people who lift me up on bad days and remind me that…
“The sun WILL come out tomorrow” – And even though it’s always a day away, as long as I can find something to look forward to and hope for, there’s always a reason to be optimistic and keep going. Who knows, tomorrow could be day Super Agent calls and asks to represent me.
I will now take my bow and close the curtain on this chapter of my life (and on all of these dreadful puns). My only remaining question is: what will I do with all my free afternoons?
No worries, I’m sure I’ll think of something. Or 80 things.

Running & Writing: Learning to sprint

When I participated in high school track, I was a member of the distance crew. I could never be a sprinter because it took me too long to get warmed up. By the time I was ready to turn on the speed, the sprint was over.

In my writing life I function much the same way. I prefer to sit down for an endurance writing session – get lost in the world I’ve created and only re-emerge when my stomach is audibly growling, my muscles are cramping, and my head is utterly emptied. (Oddly enough, this is the same feeling I’d get after a long run!)

But my life doesn’t work like that. There are rare and wonderful days when I can lock myself away and write, but they’re the exception, not the norm. What I struggle with is how to get the most out of the stolen minutes that I smuggle and stack together to construct my writing time.

I’ve tried these tips:

* End your writing session with a half-finished sentence so you can pick up there tomorrow

* Start by reading and revising the previous two pages, then move forward

* End by creating a bulleted list of where you’d like to go next

None work all that well for me – I’m incapable of leaving a sentence half finished, I never want to go back just two pages, and once I start bulleting, I just want to write the scene. How can I teach myself to sprint when I want to run (er, write) a marathon?

How do you make the most of shorter writing sessions?

Character Challenge – the ANSWERS

Dun, dun, dun… here they are. How’d you do?

1. D.: Aislinn (Wicked Lovely)
2. K : Anidora-Kilandra (Goose Girl)
3. B : Cabel (Wake & Fade)
4. P : Calder (Chasing Vermeer)
5. Q: Capricorn (Schooled)
6. R: Doon (Tales of Ember)
7. L: Fitzwilliam (Pride & Prejudice)
8. F : Gemma (A Great and Terrible Beauty series)
9. S : Grandison (Enthusiasm)
10. J : Heathcliff (Wuthering Heights)
11. H : Holling (Wednesday Wars)
12. M : Leisel (The Book Thief)
13. G: Lyra (His Dark Materials Trilogy)
14. O: Mibs (Savvy)
15. I : Percy (Percy Jackson & the Olympians series)
16. A : Phineas (A Separate Peace)
17. T : Roiben (Modern Tales of Faerie)
18. E : Tibby (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants)
19. C: Vlad (The Chronicle of Vladimir Tod)
20. N : Zane (Uglies)

Thanks to everyone who played my character challenge. Even those of you too chicken to post your scores. I hope you as much fun taking it as I did creating it.

Another thing this exercise made me aware of: the awesome nicknames that so many YA characters have. (hmmm, do I sense a characacter quiz : part 2 . . . stay tuned!)

Character Challenge – Part Two (Matching Quiz)

YA and middle-grade authors must have a penchant for unusual names, which is a good thing because I tend to forget character names unless they’re unusual. Scout from To Kill a Mockingbird, I’ll never forget her. Atticus either. But if Boo Radley had been named Ben? Would I have remembered him?

So, as a challenge, I’ve listed some of the more unusual names from some of my favorite books. Most of them are middle-grade or YA. Although, it was pointed out to me that Percy could also be from Harry Potter & Capricorn from Inkheart… maybe some of these names aren’t as unusual as I thought!

How many can you identify? I’ll post the answers on Friday. Have fun!

How many could you identify? If you’ve got a reason to brag, brag. If you’ve got a reason to be embarrassed, ’fess up!

What great names did I forget? I’m sure there are many, many more!

Snow Day Character Challenge

I get very attached to the names of characters I love. When I was seven, I wanted to name my future children Fern and Wilbur. Thankfully I’ve outgrown my Charlotte’s Web obsession – no offense to any Ferns or Wilburs out there. There was also a time when Pippi a la Pippi Longstocking and Josephine from Little Women made my list.

It’s a snow day and you need something fun to do. So,as a challenge, I’ve listed some of the more unusual names from some of my favorite books. Most of them are middle-grade or YA.

How many can you identify? I’ll add some multiple-choice titles tomorrow for those of you who want a hint and post the answers on Friday. Have fun!

  1. Aislinn
  2. Anidora-Kilandra
  3. Cabel
  4. Calder
  5. Capricorn
  6. Doon
  7. Fitzwilliam
  8. Gemma
  9. Grandison
  10. Heathcliff
  11. Holling
  12. Leisel
  13. Lyra
  14. Mibs
  15. Percy
  16. Phineas
  17. Roiben
  18. Tibby
  19. Vlad
  20. Zane

    How many could you identify? If you’ve got a reason to brag, brag. If you’ve got a reason to be embarrassed, ’fess up!

What great names did I forget? I’m sure there are many, many more!

These are life lessons, people!

And survival skills too.

It was math class and my students were diligently working their way through some operations with positive and negative numbers. I was playing with the Sony e-book reader that my colleague, Mr. Techie, had dropped off for me to explore as I continue to dither about if and what type of e-book reader I want/need.

I answered a question, handed out a few ‘good jobs’ and a ‘get back to work’ as I paged through Techie’s book selections. He had Pride & Prejudice, so I gave him + 10 cool points. He had all the Meyers books, which just made me laugh.

And then I got to last page in his catalogue and gasped: “Schmidites. Writer’s notebooks. Front rug. Nooow!”

Did I mention it was math class? And that I didn’t even have my whole homeroom and that some of the kids didn’t even have writer’s notebooks? Whatever. It’s called problem-solving.

The kids assembled themselves on our sharing rug; they were full of anticipation and questions: “What’s up?” “What’s going on?”

“I have something important I need to teach you. Now. This might be the most important thing I teach you all year.”

“What is it?”

“Kiddos, get the lights. “

And then I began to read to them from: The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks.

“There’s no such thing as safe,” I read to them, “only safer.”

We read about forms of transmission: bites, an open wound exposed to the virus (this begged for the comment: “Oh, so the next time I get a papercut, I shouldn’t go rub it on the nearest zombie?”), or if a zombie explodes on you. We read about the timeline of the disease’s progression: starting with fever, eventually death, then reanimation.

And then math class was over. “Writer’s notebooks!” I announced as the rest of my homeroom stumbled back in, bleary-eyed and drained from pre-algebra. Come to think of it, they looked a little zombified until they read the buzz of excitement and ran for their notebooks.

After we’d read about how to evaluate your zombie killing weapon, how to protect your home & school, and the list of items to have on hand (our favorite: earplugs to block out zombie moans), I turned the lights on and shared their writing prompt: “In your notebook, respond to the following: Zombies, dangerous or not?”

They would’ve written all afternoon if I let them. Many of them will write all weekend and share their zombie stories on Monday.

I felt like this was a book I had to read. After all, zombies are attacking… or at least infiltrating. Prior to October I’d lived a zombie-free life.

Now…

  • There’s the Austen thing
  • Then there’s Generation Dead by Daniel Waters (Kiss of Life comes out in May). I read this book in one night in October. I gave it to a co-worker the next day and haven’t seen it again because it’s been passed from one reader to the next.
  • And what about Patient Zero by Jonathan Maberry? This doesn’t come out until March 3rd, but I was lucky enough to read it early. You need to buy it on Tuesday (along with a copy of Brook’s book).

And who would have thought I’d plan on attending a zombie night – complete with zombie movies? Now that I’ve read the Zombie Survival Guide, I know I can handle it. (I hope). If you see me there, feel free to sit next to me. I’ll gladly keep you safe… until I run from the room screaming and crying for my mom.

Mad for Vlad: Part 2

“July? Seriously?” he asked me.

“Yes, bud, July,” I answered.

“Are you sure?” Because he’s an all-knowing sixth grader and I’m just the teacher, he needs to double-check this.

“Well, I went to Heather Brewer’s website and it says pretty clearly that Tenth Grade Bleeds comes out July 9th.” I can say this without even a trace of sarcasm because I’ve had five years of practice.

“Man! July? I won’t even be in your class then!”

“You’ll still be allowed to read it,” I assured him.

“I know – but then we can’t talk about it. Man.” Student hangs his head, sighs, heads back to his desk and picks up his reading response journal.

A few minutes later he’s popped back over to visit. “I thought of two things.”

“Okay.”

“Well, maybe she’ll write faster and it will be out sooner.”

“What’s the second thing?” I asked, not wanting to get into a whole discussion on the publishing industry.

“We can e-mail. But you have to promise to buy the book and read it.” He’s serious.

“Bud, did you think I wouldn’t buy the book and read it?”

“No, I know you will, but you need to buy it ON July 9th. Don’t make me wait this time.”

“Deal,” I agree and we shake.

So, on July 9th, do not call, text, e-mail or tweet at me. I’ve got a date with a vampire named Vlad and then an important e-mail to answer.

If, however, in the month since his elementary graduation, my dear reading buddy has become too 7th-grade-cool to e-mail his former teacher about books – then please call, text, e-mail AND tweet to cheer me up (and talk about the book!).

Mad for Vlad: Part 1

It’s Monday morning and I’m grinning and bouncing in the hallways waiting for my students to arrive. This is not my typical Monday-morning attitude and no, I haven’t had an extra cup of coffee. I’m impatiently-excited because I’ve finally gone out and bought the copy of Ninth Grade Slays that one of my students has been begging for for weeks.

I’d given him Eight Grade Bites by Heather Brewer and he’d read it in two days – “Where’s the sequel?”

“I don’t have it yet, bud,” I answered.

“When are you going to get it?”

“Um…” I mentally replayed the do-you-know-how-much-money-you’ve-spent-already-this-year-on-books conversation I’d had with Matt the night before.

“Um….” And-by-this-year-I-mean-this-year-2009-not-this-school-year. “Soon?”

And so started a refrain of: “Did you get it yet?”

It even became accusatory, “I don’t think you’re a real fan!”

So on Valentine’s Day when Husband took me to the bookstore and told me to pick out what I wanted, I knew that Ninth Grade Slays was going to be in the stack.

And that brings us back to my bouncing Monday. I read the book Valentine’s night (that’s the thanks poor Husband gets for his gesture – a super-romantic night of reading!) and had already strategically placed on my student’s desk so he’d see it first thing.

I was beaming like a two-year-old with a sticker when he walked down the hall. I met him at the door: “Good morning, buddy!”

And he was glowing too. “Good morning, Mrs. Schmidt. Did you have a good weekend?”

“I did, but we’ll share at class meeting,” I said, dismissing his attempts at a polite conversation because my gratification from seeing his face when he saw his desk was much more important. And since when was my buddy a morning person? He typically half-dozed until announcements came on. Why was he so cheerful? I shooed into the classroom so he could find his surprise.

I followed a few steps behind him: bounce, bounce, bounce. Ready to squeak and receive a loud THANK YOU!

And he walked right by his desk to his coat hook, oblivious but still smiling. Seriously? Does he mistake me for someone patient?

“Um, buddy?” I prompted, picking up the book and waiting for him to turn around after hanging his sweatshirt (this is 6th grade, we’re too cool for appropriate winter attire).

“Look what I got for you!”
Only, this wasn’t me speaking.
It was my buddy.

My student whirled around with his own copy of Ninth Grade Slays that he’d bought for me over the weekend.

I looked at what he was holding – he looked at what I was holding.

So now we’ve got two copies of Ninth Grade Slays (twice the Vlad love) and we’re rapidly recruiting new members into our fan club.

If you haven’t checked out this series yet, buddy and I encourage you to do so. But even though we have multiple copies now, you can’t borrow them – there’s a waiting list to read them.
You’ll have to get your own copy. Or better yet, buy someone else a copy – make his or her day by sharing the Vlad love.

Check back tomorrow for “Mad for Vlad: Part 2”

Pink Laptops & Puggles

At the beginning of each year I have my students draw and discuss their favorite place to write. They sketch a comfy chair in a sunny window, a shady hammock in their garden, they draw snacks and pets and squiggly notes to represent music. One girl drew her pink laptop. Pink! I want one – sorry, Huey, if I could trade you in for a pink version of you, you’d be history.

And every year I feel like a bit of a monster as I do this. Because I don’t have comfy chairs or shady hammocks. And while I can sometimes play music to inspire those that like writing to music, and sometimes have silence for those that like that, I’m not allowed to bring in the puggle pair (I’ve asked), and I don’t have pink laptops to give to each of them. (Pink! I wonder if I could paint Huey…)

So essentially I have my students draw their ideal and then respond with a “Too bad. Enjoy your wobbly desk and clicky pencil that ran out of lead.”

But isn’t the world like this as well?

I have an ideal writing place: a desk made out of refurbished antique door that’s situated in a giant picture window with an amazing view. It’s got wireless speakers and a printer, and a laptop that could only be more fabulous if it was PINK. There’s a window seat where the puggles wriggle in sunbeams, a wall that’s painted with whiteboard and even a inspirational sign that reads: “And they lived happily ever after” so that I remember how stories should end on the days I want to throw my not-pink laptop through the picture window.

But how often do I have time to take advantage of this writing space? Um, never. My writing is slotted in during fits and spurts. Insomniac attacks and while cooking dinner. Composed while running and typed while trying to watch the weather, carry on a phone conversation, and figure out what Biscotti’s sneaking off to do.

Writing happens while waiting at the doctor’s office, I type ideas on Petunia (my Blackberry – she’s pink), while on the elliptical trainer (you’d be impressed by my elliptical handwriting, it’s definitely improving!), writing happens while I’m showering, driving, teaching, reading… living.

So why do I teach this lesson year after year if I can’t match their drawings of the ideal? For the same reason that I keep writing even when I can’t get to my writing nook to do so. Writing is a part of life – it’s not something that occurs only during a designated timeslot or the magical forces of the universe combine to create perfect conditions.

And one of these days I’ll find the time to clear the laundry and dusty post-its off my writing nook and use it as it’s intended . . . Can’t complain though, because as I type this, watch the Oscars, answer parent e-mails, Twitter, and plan dinners for the week, I’ve also got a warm dozy puggle in my lap, a computer that’s great (even if it’s not pink), and a great soundtrack on I-tunes. Ideal? No. But absolutely satisfying all the same.

Round-up of Query Advice

Many of the agents I follow via twitter or through their blogs have been writing about queries lately. There’s been much discussion about how queries are multiplying like gremlins in the rain and they’ve held competitions to empty inboxes. (And I thought I was competitive… remind me never to challenge an agent to a game of dodgeball…)

A few points stood out to me this week and I thought I’d compile and share.

Style in the query is a must.
http://bookendslitagency.blogspot.com/ Jessica Faust, BookEnds Lit

I know that I fell into the trap of trying to make my query letter sound ‘professional and polished’ (which should really be read as ‘stodgy and dull’). I was worried that if my letter didn’t sound business-y enough, no one would take it seriously. The end result was a letter that was perfect to form, but that had no hint of my writing flavor. (What does my writing flavor taste like? A mix of Diet Coke, Sour Patch Kids, and Honeycomb – delicious!)

Don’t worry so much about your experience. The query is to sell your novel, not you.
http://nathanbransford.blogspot.com/2009/02/more-story-less-you.html Nathan Bransford, Curtis Brown

Hooray! So the fact that my last publishing credit was in my college literary magazine isn’t going to hurt me? Thank you! I spend plenty of my day job reading and writing – but my experiences teaching sixth grade language arts – while amusing and patience-building – don’t exactly fit in with the rest of my query.

Buzzer words:
http://cba-ramblings.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-not-to-say-part-87.html
Rachelle Gardner, Wordserve Literary

These are the opposite of buzzwords. These are words and phrases that lead to immediate rejection of a query. Using phrases like “literary blockbuster” and “hilarious; you’ll laugh out loud” are buzzer words. Your query letter should show your skill, not tell the agent how amazing you are. (Gah, the same thing I’m telling my 11-year-old students: show, don’t tell!)

Follow the submission guidelines:
http://theswivet.blogspot.com/2009/02/because-you-asked-for-it-compilation-of.html Colleen Lindsay, FinePrint Lit

It was shocking to hear that so many people didn’t bother to read the submission guidelines or type in a personalized greeting. Bad manners, people! What would your mother say?

I highly recommend following each of the blogs above. Any other publishing/agenting/editing blogs you recommend to me?

Happy Querying! Or at least as happy as this fingers-crossed-send-button-pressing-compulsive-e-mail-checking process can be.