A poem for this Sunday

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Emma Lazarus, November 2, 1883

photo credit: www.morguefile.com

The Girl Who Drank the Moon and more "Girl" titled books

The Girl Who Drank the Moon by Kelly Barnhill won the Newbery today! It's a beautiful book.

by Kelly Barnhill - middle grade fantasy

Here are a few other books from 2016 with "Girl" in the title off the top of my head.

By Karen Rivers - middle-grade magical realism

by Monica Hesse - young adult historical fiction

by Lisa Schroeder - middle grade fantasy
coming in paperback March 27, 2017

Poetry Friday

Small Things Help Too

Today I fed the birds.

Sometimes the world can feel

like one horrible ball of pain.

If you're like me, you ask yourself,

what can I do?

What can I possibly do?

Some days we find big things to do.

Serve the needy.

Feed the hungry.

Give to a good cause.

As I watched the birds scamper

around the yard, eating the seeds,

my heart rate slowed,

my brain calmed

and for a moment, 

the world 

felt peaceful.

It wasn't a big thing.

Not even close.

But the change 

in my world

felt 

BIG.

There's always

something we can do,

isn't there?

Today I fed the birds.

And today the birds fed me.

Is writing hard?

I'm sitting here by the fire watching the snow fall while reading a book I received for Christmas called IF YOU WANT TO WRITE: A Book about Art, Independence and Spirit by Brenda Euland.

The description for the book online starts out like this: "For most, the hardest part of writing is overcoming the mountain self-denial that weighs upon the spirit, always threatening to extinguish those first small embers of ambition."

On Thursday, I actually had someone ask me, "Is it hard?"
"What?" I replied, wanting to make sure I understood exactly what she was asking.
"Writing a book. Is it hard?"

It's a complicated one, that question.

Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't.
Sometimes the words flow, sometimes they don't.
Sometimes characters talk and talk and talk, sometimes they don't.
Sometimes your inner critic stays nice and quiet and sometimes she YELLS IN YOUR EAR.
Sometimes it doesn't matter that there is laundry to do and floors to mop while other times it is impossible to write a single word unless the house is spotless.
Sometimes social media isn't a distraction while most days it is impossible to stay off of it for longer than ten minutes.
Sometimes it is as joyful as walking through a field of tulips and sometimes it is as painful as going to the dentist to have a cavity filled.

So why do we do it if sometimes it is hard, or even painful? If sometimes the business side of publishing hurts so, so badly?

In IF YOU WANT TO WRITE, she speaks about a letter van Gogh wrote about the creative impulse.

"But the moment I read van Gogh's letter I knew what the creative impulse was. It is a feeling of love and enthusiasm for something, and in a direct, simple, passionate and true way you try to show this beauty to others..."

Whenever I talk to kids in Skype visits or in-person school visits, I often get the question - why do you write? The desire to write comes from a place of love and enthusiasm, just as this author says. A love of stories. A love of books. A love of words. And a desire to share that love with the world.

Yes, sometimes writing is hard. But as the coach says in that wonderful film "A League of Their Own," that's what makes it great.