Thursday, November 27, 2014

PiBoIdMo 2014

I'm participating in PiBoIdMo this month. (I bow to all who are doing NaNo, and especially--those who actually succeed!) I love picture books. I've written a few books and queried a couple and read a million. I find that my main source of inspiration for picture books comes from my children. They are my muses in so many ways.

Back at the beginning of my son's first grade year, he was dreading going to school each day. I'd drop him off in the morning and promise him a poem in the afternoon. During the day I'd write some quirky, nonsensical thing to read to him after the school day. I know he appreciated it, but I think I got more out of that experience than he did! To this day, I sometimes run across a random piece of ledger paper with a end-of-school-day poem scribbled on it.

Just listening to and watching my children gives me too many ideas to keep up with. My little girl twirling around inspires thoughts of a girl who dances everywhere she goes. My messy house strewn with toys gives me ideas of trees sprouting from the toys of messy children, turning their rooms into jungles. My daughter talking to her toys...what if the toys talked back? (I admit, that last idea could either be cute or creepy.)

Today there was a post over at Tara Lazar's blog which reminded me that I may be behind, and NOW is the time to panic (in a good way). So off to be inspired by my naughty children...and to eat turkey, of course. Happy Thanksgiving!

Monday, November 3, 2014

Let's Try this Bloggy Thing Again! Putting Yourself in Your Books

It's funny--at first glance it may look as though my first post was a week ago. But it was over a year ago. A lot happened in that year. I queried. I queried some more. I went to Mexico with my husband to celebrate our 10 year anniversary. I queried some more. Then I revised. I spent two months through a grueling sale process selling a house we lived in many moons ago (when we were young and naive and thought it was a good idea to buy a 100 year old house in law school). (Bad idea.) Then I worked on a couple new books and queried some more. Now here I am. But I haven't disappeared entirely. I've been on Twitter making a little bit of noise. It saddens me to think about my blog disappearing into oblivion like blogs sometimes do. Now I want to wake it up.

And speaking of waking up (and trying not to awkwardly transition to new subject matter)...when I was young, my mom used to barge into my room in the morning singing Cat Stevens' Morning Has Broken. It was her zany, yet gentle way of getting me up for school. It was much better than an alarm clock, and to this day I have fond memories every time I hear that song. My MC, Liza, mentions using the same tactic when waking her aunt. I find myself slipping little pieces of myself into my books--and not on purpose. Little clues of Me just kind of slip into my writing. Is it because writing is easier if we let ourselves into our writing? Is it because it's easier to relate to my MC by endowing her with similar thoughts or memories? Does asking rhetorical questions in my first-blog-post-in-forever (cue Frozen music) okay?

Oooh, I can feel my blog taking a long, deep, two-arm stretch. Its legs were asleep, but now they are all tingly as it starts to move. And ha! My blog has bed head. How embarrassing.