It is Spring in Austin, Texas! 
My kids are on vacation in about 7 hours!
I have a new book out (I’m sure you’ll all be surprised to know that it rhymes!)
And I pressed send on a new manuscript last night, right about as the clock struck twelve!

What better way to celebrate it all than with a poetry party.
Wanna come?

Leave your link in the comments and I’ll round ya up throughout the day…
Welcome, and thanks, for coming!

Now here’s a little somethin’ to get you started:

Spring

BY KARLA KUSKIN

I’m shouting
I’m singing
I’m swinging through trees
I’m winging skyhigh
With the buzzing black bees.
I’m the sun
I’m the moon
I’m the dew on the rose.
I’m a rabbit
Whose habit
Is twitching his nose.

(Read the rest here…)

Now, here’s an original from Ruth at There is no such thing as a God-forsaken town

At Carol’s Corner, you’ll find an Edgar Guest Poem

Laura Salas celebrates with a book trailer for her new book Bookspeak (!!!) and, as always, here’s her 15-Words-Or-Less contribution.

Robyn Hood Black’s hanging out with Rebecca Kai Dotlich (lucky her!)

Amy at The Poem Farm shares a "sweet" original.

Tabatha Yeatts brings us Lisel Mueller today.

You’ll find some Victor Hugo at Dori Reads.

Check out the digital poetry at Random Noodling, a discussion on making poetry at Kurious Kitty, and an Eavan Boland quote at Kurious K’s Kwotes.

Oh, and enjoy the book spine poem at 100 Scope Notes!

Our friends at Paper Tigers highlight Mongolian poet Dashdongdog Jamba.

Jama’s celebrating my favorite fruit today, at Alphabet Soup!

Irene Latham shares a stepmom original at Live. Love. Explore!

Tanita Davis is working her way through some tricky T.S. Eliot this lenten season.

There’s a review of Eileen Spinelli’s newish novel-in-verse over at Secret’s and Sharing Soda.

The Write Sisters and Basho join so many of us, thinking of our brothers and sisters in Japan.

Happy Birthday to Heidi at my juicy little universe. She celebrates with an original.

And Elaine is being original (and seasonal) over at Wild Rose Reader, and also at Blue Rose Girls!

You can read some George Herbert at Semicolon today.

Jeannine Atkins is discussing poets as protagonists. Cool!

Read an original Charles Ghigna at Bald Ego.

The wonderful Mary Lee at A Year of Reading is in with another spring poem — or, rather, a waiting for spring poem.

Blythe Woolston brings us a powerful video and an original poem.

Carlie at Twinkling Along shares an original, too.

And check out the Mother Goose take-offs at fomagrams!

Julie Larios has a Lorca poem at The Drift Record.

You can read a Schulyer poem at Learning to Let Go.

Get your groove on with April Halprin Wayland over at Teaching Authors.

My friend Andi at a wrung sponge reviews Dave the Potter today.

Jone brings us more spring, via William Carlos Williams, at Check it Out.

You can read some Lorine Niedecker as part of Women’s History Month at The Small Nouns.

Carol Rasco (of RIF) shares a piece by Kevin Young, from Ardency. 

A first-timer from Books, Dogs and Frogs shares haiku, with good thoughts toward Japan.

Tara at A Teaching Life offers us Mary Oliver.

Sally Thomas at A Castle in the Sea shares an original piece.

And you can go get your Irish Fix at All About the Books with Janet Squires.

I’ll add any last additions late tonight or in the morning.
In the meantime, be well and happy reading!
Namaste….

Just a couple of late additions:

You can read an original at pearlygirltoo.

And at The Quill and Crayon? A post on the camellia flower.

Thanks for stopping by friends!

As I mentioned the other day, I’ve had a guest at my house this week.
Well, formally she’s a "mentee," but we’re not actually all that formal around here.

Together since Monday, we’ve written and revised and visited with first graders and now, to round out the experience, we’re blogging together.

So, welcome, Maggie! I’m so honored you chose to be here for your "Project Week".
(No jokes about me being a project or needing work, please, folks…)

I think it’s pretty unusual for a 7th grader to be able to immerse herself in something like this and, even more importantly, to want to immerse herself the way you did. You’ve been on fire!

Let’s chat a little bit about how it’s been…

L: How did it feel to be an author for a week?

M: It was a really rewarding experience, I mean I wrote a whole book in one week. It was really interesting to get into the perspective of a child, because the kind of books that you write and I was experimenting with writing, kids don’t start out reading them to themselves but they are meant to be read aloud to teach new vocabulary and skills such as rhyming and rhythm. Basically it was a really fun and academically enhancing week.

L: Were there any surprises?

M: There were not really any surprises this week, except for how quickly we produced this book. I mean less than half way through the week (2 days) all of the initial writing was done. (Of course it took longer to polish it up!)

L: What was most challenging?

M: The most challenging part was probably the brainstorming and then writing the first draft. Getting a definite plot-line down on paper was defiantly the most difficult part.

L: What was most fun?

M: For me the most fun part was on Tuesday when I just sat down with you and we turned everything into rhyme and just cranked out most of the text that would need to be completed for the story. It was a very satisfying morning.

L: That’s nice of you to say, and I had a great day that day, too! But honestly, YOU turned it into rhyme yourself. I just supported you! 
So, how will this week affect your writing in general — and affect you as a writer?

M: I think I will now think more about the audience that I am writing to before I just start writing down my ideas. I also think that this experience has improved my editing skills a lot.

L: Yes, you really were willing to do the hard work of revision. That impressed me. Do you think you’ll work on other picture book manuscripts in the future?

M: I most certainly will continue writing picture book manuscripts. It was really fun and I learned a lot, also I think is a good way to get an idea down without having to write a whole novel.

Thanks so much, Liz,
Maggie

Thank you, too!
It’s been really fruitful for me to spend a number of days being more conscious about what it is that I do, and working to articulate that.
Plus, I loved having a sidekick!
Come back soon!

It’s a lovely week at my house because I have a visitor. 
A family friend — a middle-schooler who, as part of her school’s Project Week, is writing a children’s book.
So, she’s spending the week with me. 

We talk all about picture books and rhyme and scansion and revision.
We talk about humour and getting in the groove.
We talk about libraries.

We do writing prompts.
We then, actually, write.
(I wrote quite a lot yesterday because, ahem, I had to set a good example. Y’know?)
And then we revise. Together.
It’s a hoot!

So, stuff’s happening over here and I’m hoping that on Thursday Maggie will tell you about it.
Tomorrow she’s going on a school visit with me. 
And maybe going to the post office with me because, um, that’s a part of my job. 
Right?

The only thing I like just about as much as a good school visit
is the letters I get after a good school visit. 

There is often some very fine crayon art and a good number of exclamation points. 

There is often humor.

There is often wisdom.

There is always love.

Dear Liz,

I learnd a crown is a pretty plase, like the top of my head or the top of a leafe tree.
I am gunna be looking for that book All the World!

Thank you. 

From, Rowan

Dear Liz,

I learned that it can take muns and some times years to finish a book.
Your books gave me ideas for a book I mit write and ilastrate.

It was exiding having you here.

From Darcy

Dear Liz,

I learnd that your editor hleps you fix mistakx and you have to go to your offic and fix your mustak agean.
And agean.
And agean.
And finaleey, the editor sied yes!
You finoleey did it!

Love Kim

See what I mean?

And speaking of my buddy Noodle…

Today, in honor of the worms
and, really, everyone else who "persists, oblivious, in service" —
this poem. 

What if folks really knew "the good they confer" on the rest of us?
What if we tended to each other as if we had a "debt to angels"?
What if nobody waited "for reciprocity"?

That’d be something, wouldn’t it?

Worms

BY CARL DENNIS

Aren’t you glad at least that the earthworms
Under the grass are ignorant, as they eat the earth,
Of the good they confer on us, that their silence
Isn’t a silent reproof for our bad manners,
Our never casting earthward a crumb of thanks
For their keeping the soil from packing so tight
That no root, however determined, could pierce it?

Imagine if they suspected how much we owe them,
How the weight of our debt would crush us
Even if they enjoyed keeping the grass alive,
The garden flowers and vegetables, the clover,
And wanted nothing that we could give them,
Not even the merest nod of acknowledgment.
A debt to angels would be easy in comparison,
Bright, weightless creatures of cloud, who serve
An even brighter and lighter master.

(Read the rest here…)

I have been really, really, really busy.
I mean, everyone always says that, I know, but this has been kind of a breathtaking busy.

I can’t complain, since so much of it has been engaging and terrific work —
conferences, school visits, talks, and critiques.
The beginning of my teaching semester.
Yet another revision.

And then, in the middle of all that, a whopping case of the flu, one daughter’s field trip and another daughter’s standardized test made for a relatively emotional breathtakingly busy time. 

So it was really no surprise that the release date of my latest book kind of snuck up on me and nearly snuck right past. 
Noodle would likely not be surprised, either, to be overlooked and lost in the shuffle.
A worm’s lot, he’d say.

But honestly, I’m pretty fond of this little worm-and-bird, and grateful for them.
For example:

Huge thank yous to Arthur Howard who added such humor and whimsy to the book, who added love and pathos, who added a little green baseball cap to the head of the worm.

And to my editor, Allyn Johnston (at Beach Lane Books) who waited patiently over the very many months it took me to puzzle out the whys of this book.

And to my agent, Erin Murphy, who buoyed me up over the very many months Allyn waited and I puzzled out the whys.

And to Natalie dias Lorenzi who created the fabulous teacher’s guide to accompany Noodle & Lou (and my other books, too)!

And to Jama Rattigan who didn’t forget the release day at all!

And to the folks at Kirkus, and Booklist, and Publishers Weekly, who’ve all had some really swell things to say about the book.

But mostly, thanks to my sister, to whom Noodle & Lou is dedicated, for being the blue jay of my heart.
She stumbled upon the book accidentally, in a little bookstore in Montana, days before it was even due to come out.
And then she stumbled upon the dedication inside.

Isn’t it funny, the way life sometimes works that way?
The way we trip over little surprises, the way we meet the folks we’re meant to, the way the sun comes out just in time?

Lucky us.
You, me and Noodle.
Lucky, lucky us….

Namaste.
 

I’m in Colorado, which is my home state and, thus, my happy state.

Ordinarily when I’m here, I spend most of my time outside.

This time, my adventures have been more of the indoor variety.
For one thing, it’s been seriously deeply crazily cold. (I know it’s winter, but still!)
Also, I’ve gone from school visit to school visit to conference to book store to school visit. Etc.

So, no summits this trip, or backcountry skiing, or campfires.
Although I did wield a mean snow shovel for about an hour yesterday morning.
Instead, I’ve saved my awe and giddiness for 2nd graders and teachers and librarians and best old friends.

Usually, I like to share little quotes and anecdotes from my school visits, because they tend to be very funny and very dear. (Like last Thursday, for example, when a little boy suggested to me that “a cat is a pocket for a hairball.” I mean, honestly. Does it GET any better than that???)

But this trip has been too long and chock-full to collect quotes every day.
I’ve just let it roll on by.
Until this morning.
When a little guy raised his hand to ask, “Does it hurt to write books?”

I caught my breath.
And while I did he said, “I mean, like do your hands hurt?”

Oh.
That’s what he meant.
My hands!

So I showed him a little stretch I do to wake up my fingers and my arms and shoulders when I’m at my desk.
He and all his buddies did the stretch with me.
It was a nice moment.

But meanwhile, I was thinking, “Does it hurt to write books?”

He didn’t even know to ask about the other kind of sore, the invisible kind.

When what we’re working on doesn’t work.

When what we write isn’t right.

When what we love isn’t beloved.

When we’re pretty sure we’re all washed up with no place to go.

When we’re deathly afraid.

“It does,” I wanted to say. “It hurts.”
But I didn’t want to scare him away.
Because there are all those times when it doesn’t hurt, when it thrills and tickles and shines.
I’d hate to scare him away from that.

(Apologies for the slight delay on this post, due to air travel, time zone transitions,
and bitter, bitter cold that makes it almost impossible to even think!)

Librarians!!

I’m not the only one who’s been moved to put some love out there in the world.

Here’s another picture-perfect post from Tabatha Yeatts, and some words of wisdom from author Lindsey Lane.

And here’s where you author-folk can walk the walk — at Authors for Librarians. 

I’m wrapping up my week dedicated to Librarian Love, but that’s not to say there won’t be more of it to come. Librarians are a pivotal part of our schools and our communities. They are the hosts of our downtime, guides to our adventures, supporters of our studies, and they are teachers. They teach us how to read and how to research. They teach us what’s inside books and how to use books. They teach the wild extroverts how to be happy alone, and they teach the quiet introverts that they are not alone. They teach us about time travel and dinosaurs, illness and wellness, love and fear, humor and surprise. They teach us that the world is both very, very big and also at our fingertips all the time. 

Let us not make the mistaking of thinking librarians are any less than all of that. We need them, as students and teachers, parents and people. We need them as a society and we should tell them so. And show them, too.

Namaste.

So happy to start off today’s post with some really lovely Librarian Love, thanks to Ms. Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference. Check it out.

And if you want to join in on my impromptu week of gushing and gratitudes for the librarians in the world, it’s not too late. Here’s my kick-off post from last week — along with a formal invitation to join me. I’m wrapping it up tomorrow — Tuesday, February 1st — but any day’s a good day to honor the Keepers of the Books!

Last week, I thanked the librarians who’ve tended to my daughters over the years, and I thanked the librarians who’ve supported me as an author, and I shared a truly awesome visceral book-loving poem by Mark Strand.

Today, I want to thank all the many librarians who serve as wise, thoughtful, hard-working readers on literary award committees every year. I mean, of COURSE it’s librarians who tackle these huge jobs, right? They know and love books, and they know and love young readers. They’ve got their fingers on the pulse. And they don’t seem to mind filling their offices-bedrooms-living rooms with books upon books upon books — all of which have to be read, carefully.

I’m particularly fond of a certain Caldecott committee, if you know what I mean:

Well, it turns out that the magical profession of librarianism is under siege beyond our own local map.
Here’s the state of things in the U.K., for example.

People?? Has the whole world gone mad?? 

Phillip Pullman remembers "(T)he secrecy of it! The blessed privacy!"
He knows that "No-one else can get in the way, no-one else can invade it, no-one else even knows what’s going on in that wonderful space that opens up between the reader and the book."

He knows and remembers that, and so do I.
So do lots of us, right? 
So what is this malarky about not needing librarians? 
Sheesh.

A world like this is just going to bring the librarians all to tears.
And we don’t want that, do we?

Eating Poetry

BY MARK STRAND

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.

The librarian does not believe what she sees.
Her eyes are sad
and she walks with her hands in her dress.

(Read the rest here…)

And if you’d like to join me in my week of Librarian Love, it’s not too late.
See my previous posts here and here and here, and then join in.
You’ll be glad you did.

Namaste.