Awhile back I posted about the amazingly thorough and creative curriculum guide that Natalie dias Lorenzi created for my first book.
Well, she did it again. Boy-oh-man is she good.
The teacher’s guide for All the World is up at my website now! (Click here and then on the link for curriculum guide, or click here to go directly to the pdf.)
And she’s added an author’s interview to the first one, so that revision is up now, too! (Click here and then on the link for curriculum guide, or click here to go directly to the pdf.)
Teachers, librarians, home schoolers — help yourselves! And Natalie…. thanks a million…
This weekend, my aunt and cousins and extended family will celebrate the memory of my beloved Uncle Joe. And they’ll do it by swimming the length of our lake, in Wisconsin. Because that’s what he used to do, summer mornings.
He’d swim from his cottage to my grandparents’, at the other end of lake. And there he’d have breakfast with them.
The swim has become tradition these last few years since he’s been gone. I ache to be there in the water, but instead I’m hear thinking about it and thinking about him.
Last night should have been just dreamy for my sweetheart and I. It was our first night on a brand new cushy mattress. This, after years of sleeping on some cross between a cobblestone lane and a tattered overcoat. A brand new cushy mattress.
And then the air conditioning went out. Out. Dead. Kerplunk. 87 degrees inside, and rising. Our whole family, dog and cats included, wandered the halls, flushed and moaning. I mean, I couldn’t really tell if the cats were flushed but how could they not be?
My husband stood in front of the furnace tinkering. I aimed fans at the girls faces. We opened windows, felt the air outside and closed them again.
How romantic.
I was busy trying to figure out the take-away message on this one (don’t get too comfortable… don’t get too dependent on the finer things in life… don’t live in a place where summer=the fires of the underworld) when it suddenly occured to me that we could go swimming! There is no rule that says one can’t swim before noon, is there? And as a matter of fact, our most beloved spring-fed swimmin’ hole is free every morning until 9:00 a.m.
So coffee and cocoa in hand, down the hill we rolled. It took the girls exactly 3 nanoseconds to take the plunge. Me, just a teeny bit longer.
And when we dug into the rest of our day — which included a visit to a farm just outside of town and a visit from Jeff the A/C guy (my hero) — we were still under the influence of that most magical morning swim.
Now I’m thinking that the take-away message might’ve been "step out of your rut". Which we did, and I’m glad…
It includes a few events I’m really excited about:
Two storytimes at Austin Public Libraries over the next two weeks (These will be my last official Sock is a Pocket storytimes before I start trotting out new tricks for All the World. If you haven’t seen my whole fishing-vest-of-many-pockets, come on out!)
My All the World release party at BookPeople on Saturday, September 26!
And The Texas Book Festival, Halloween weekend.
Also, I’ll be giving a talk on "Going with your Gut" at the November SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators) gathering!
If you want to come join me for any of these fun gigs, you can come early… like me. (C’mon you guys. Seriously. Stop laughing. I’m full of good intentions….)
I am now in possession of an actual hard-bound copy of my book. It arrived wrapped in pink ribbon and silver tinsel because my editor does stuff like that.
I love it. I even love the endpapers. If it weren’t so square and bulky, I’d sleep with it under my pillow.
One of the most incredible gifts of being a picture book author is sending in something that is purely text-ual and having something so visual come back. In this case, so incredibly richly and vibrantly visual. Marla’s art makes me weak in the knees.
So, now that I truly believe this book is for REAL, I thought I’d share a few very kind reviews with you. By people who also apparently believe it’s for real…
Click here to see what the exceedingly generous Cheryl Tasses at Reading Rumpus had to say about it.
And then here is a little bit of the review in Booklist: Scanlon uses a pleasing rhythm to move from normal-life specifics all the way to more existential concepts. Small illustrations of a family entering a restaurant are paired with everyday notions (“Table, bowl, cup spoon / Hungry tummy, supper’s soon / Butter, flour, big black pot”) before a page turn offers a panoramic spread of the restaurant and the woods surrounding it: “All the world is cold and hot.” It’s a catchy pattern perfect for reading aloud while pointing out the children hiding within the illustrations. – Daniel Kraus, Booklist
And then here’s what my daughters have to say:
"You’re one of my favorite authors, Mama." "Mm-hmm. Mine, too. I mean, for one thing, Roald Dahl is dead."
Last night we went to see this summer’s musical-in-the-park. It was The Music Man so I’ve been singing about Gary, Indiana, all day today.
The whole evening was spot-on perfect. We laid our blanket down at 6:00, walked across the parking lot and swam in Barton Springs ’til 8:00, walked back and picnicked as the show started, and knew enough to sing along fairly frequently. The girls had that lusty look in their eyes, that "I could be up there singing" look, from start to finish.
So it should’ve been no surprise when, during the intermission, one of them said, "Plays are better than movies."
"Way," said the other.
"Way."
"Better how?" I asked.
"Well," said Tall One, "they’re real. I mean, they’re almost real. You can even see a little mistake here and there."
"Yeah," echoed her sister. "When they make mistakes in movies they just rewind and change it up. It’s kind of cheaty."
"With plays you’re right in the middle of whatever’s happening," said Tall.
"I see what you mean," I said, and then the band struck up.
Note to self: What kids want from art is to be "right in the middle of whatever’s happening." At least some kids. At least mine…
On the beach last week, one of my aunts gave me her Oprah magazine with a page turned down. There are some great little essays by writers, about writing, she said. And she wasn’t kidding.
How about this painful little gem by author Jim Shepard? He tells students they may be cut out for the writing life if "(a) they need to do it in order to feel good about themselves, even though (b) doing it almost never makes them feel good about themselves."
Sigh.
I was thinking about this in the middle of the night last night. I was up with an idea, which was great (in that I love a muse-driven writing session) and which was terrible (in that it was 1 a.m. and nothing but uck was actually coming out on the page).
So then I proceeded to use the time to catch up on some more back-blog-reading. And lo and behold, there you all are, sorting out your own stuff with writing and with life.
There is so much to negotiate, most of it in our own heads. Thank goodness for poetry, right? Thank goodness for poetry and the hot, homemade Michigan-blueberry muffins I just pulled out of my oven. Life’s pleasures.
This goes out to Tanita and Jama today. With high hopes for confidence, joy, success and no regrets…
Autobiographia Literaria
When I was a child I played by myself in a corner of the schoolyard all alone.
I hated dolls and I hated games, animals were not friendly and birds flew away.
(Read the rest here, or better yet — listen to Garrison Keillor read it!)
I am finally home after many, many hours behind the wheel.
I am home with two daughters, a bunch of duffles and a ten-pound box of the fattest Michigan blueberries ever plucked.
I am home in my own bed and my own kitchen and my own 100-plus degree weather. (Although in the name of truth, I should say that I generously share that with the rest of the folk who live down here…)
I am home with my sweet ol’ dog who won’t let me out of her sight and my sweet ol’ husband who seems nearly as pleased.
I am home at my desk, with its stacks of mail — frequent flier updates, insurance offers, and a few very nice little surprises from my friends at Simon & Schuster and Beach Lane Books.
First came the Simon & Schuster Fall 2009 catalog, which features All the World on pages 264 and 265. Which means that it actually exists and booksellers and librarians can actually order it and other people besides my mom might eventually have it on their shelves.
But it wasn’t pages 264 and 265 that freaked me out, friends.
It was inside the front cover. Y’know, the stiff cardboard cover in the front of all the other pages??? Where All the World is called out in pretty colors and big bold print???
It says, "Caldecott Honor winner and New York Times bestselling illustrator Marla Frazee shows you All the World By Liz Garton Scanlon"
That is, honest to Pete, exactly what it says. And then it says to turn to pages 264 and 265.
Blow me down.
And then, deeper down in my stack of mail was a package exactly like the ones S & S sent booksellers and reviewers: A flat, square box with the galley of All the World nestled in shredded paper with a shell and some beach glass. And a hand-written note from my editor. And the new Beach Lane catalog.
The whole dang deal is so beautiful that I don’t have the heart to disassemble it. For real, you guys.
It is as if I’ve had a baby and this great big old company has hand-knit a blanket for her and is carrying her carefully around, making introductions.
As you might imagine, it is really, really, really fine to be home…
No, I was not at ALA. And I have not been blogging. Or cleaning my house. Or doing much laundry.
Because… I have still been on my many-state-mini-van adventure with the Small and Tall!!!
Tonight, though, I’m in a hotel room in West Memphis and tomorrow I will be HOME. For the first time in 5 weeks. And I am almost as ready as my daughters.
(Who are a little more ready because they will carry on not cleaning the house or doing much laundry, and I won’t. Or will. You get what I mean.)
Anyway. I have a LOT of updates for you, little and big.
Like about how I cried today listening to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. When he finally got that golden ticket, nearly delirious with hunger and waning hope? That is such a beautiful scene. Seriously, you guys. Go back and re-read it. And also the next scene where Grandpa Joe jumps out of bed, giddy with the luck of it all.
Oh, and another literary moment today was when the girls were reading Archie comics and discussing which one they liked more — Betty or Veronica.
"Betty," they both declared. (Thank heaven for small mercies.)
And I chimed in from the front, "Yeah, Veronica’s kind of snooty, isn’t she?"
"Snooty’s not really right, Mama," corrected Small One. "She’s just spoiled."
Oh. Right.
So before I recount the countless enlightening moments like these that I’ve saved up over the last month or so, can I just share with you the photo that my beloved agent snapped with her cellular phone at ALA in Chicago?
My little book was there — in ARC form and on the Simon & Schuster banner. Next to Toni Morrison (!??!?!) and a whole bunch of other incredibly daunting and amazing folk.
Thank you all for your sweet notes of understanding over my going AWOL and all. It is so nice to see your familiar names and hear your familiar voices…
So, I promised you a thing or two. Let’s start with this.
My next book is OUT IN THE WORLD. This is freaky scary crazy. Of course.
Y’know how when you have a baby and you first put her in her carseat and head out for a drive you consider calling for a police escort and putting signs up in every window of of the car saying, "Please, would you maniacs slow down and take care because this situation is very, very fragile"???
Well, it’s like that.
Luckily, there are some very good, kind folks receiving this particular package so I’m not feeling too battered.
(Particularly touching in that my friends at Simon & Schuster and Beach Lane Books went so all-the-way-out to share this book with people, and touching in how much Shelly B. appreciated it…)
