If It Feels Good Do It

Okay. I have been off the Facebook, Twitter, and Blogspot drugs for one month now. Call it Blogblock, Facebreak, Tweadle dee... Whatever.

It's amazing how much time I have on my hands. I think I had some senility issues with all those tabs up there to click on. I would be writing something in Word. Then I would stop and click on dictionary.com, and four hours later, I would return to a blinking cursor in the middle of the document.

It was like walking into a room and forgetting why I was there.

A little more writing/thinking time and less clicking time. NaNoRevisMo. Anyone?

In other news...

1. Stocks are up and that's good for business. Yeah team! With the exception of Borders Book Group, which trades at $1.94. Can you say bankruptcy?

2. I have been teaching English at a school down the street. It's a blast being with the kids. And my English is pretty damn good! I had forgetten.

Writing blogs no one will read is weirdly fun.

More later.

Poetry of Rock and Roll

I've long argued that modern poetry is alive and well; it's just packaged as rock-n-roll.

Pope and Eliot have been replaced by Plant and Bono. Stairway to Heaven is today's Kubla Khan.

These days, poetry readings are not packed, but humans haven't lost their love of words in poetic form. Now we pack football stadiums. Instead of a reading, someone sings.

This video is from U2's Barcelona show where a Rumi poem is written in green in support of Iran's free elections. Poetry with a purpose.

Finally, here are the words/lyrics from U2's poem/song. I like the Roar line.

BREATHE

16th of June, nine 0 five, door bell rings
Man at the door says if I want to stay alive a bit longer
There's a few things I need you to know. Three

Coming from a long line of travelling sales people on my mother's side
I wasn't gonna buy just anyone's cockatoo
So why would I invite a complete stranger into my home
Would you?

These days are better than that
These days are better than that

Every day I die again, and again I'm reborn
Every day I have to find the courage
To walk out into the street
With arms out
Got a love you can't defeat
Neither down or out
There's nothing you have that I need
I can breathe
Breathe now

16th of June, Chinese stocks are going up
And I'm coming down with some new Asian virus
Ju Ju man, Ju Ju man
Doc says you're fine, or dying
Please
Nine 0 nine, St John Divine, on the line, my pulse is fine
But I'm running down the road like loose electricity
While the band in my head plays a striptease

The roar that lies on the other side of silence
The forest fire that is fear so deny it

Walk out into the street
Sing your heart out
The people we meet
Will not be drowned out
There's nothing you have that I need
I can breathe
Breathe now
Yeah, yeah

We are people borne of sound
The songs are in our eyes
Gonna wear them like a crown

Walk out, into the sunburst street
Sing your heart out, sing my heart out
I've found grace inside a sound
I found grace, it's all that I found
And I can breathe
Breathe now

Blogotwitbook

It's all one. The blog. Your Facebook page. The Twitmonger. I follow. I lurk. I friend.

The trifecta?

Here's another place to add to the list. A must?

An agent asked me to sign up at LinkedIn instead of Facebook. S/he was right. The business of publishing.

But how to put it all together?

In fifth grade science, the kids study animals' production cycle: Do I produce or consume?

Recently, I switched to Google Reader for consuming blogs. Reading is a boat load easier but commenting is ... uh… yeah. GR takes blogodom to a higher level of lurkosity. I blog therefore I lurk.

Here's some cream of what I've lurked on since the SCBWI LA 09 GLAMFEST last month.

At the conference Wendy Loggia (Delacorte) gave a speech about seven things that would kick you out of her request pile.

She brought out tomes, dusty binders full of data and rejections going back to the 12 Century. (BTW: The eleven hundreds mark the seminal point in rejection letters. Rejects were banned in the Dark Ages).

She noted seven things, but number four seemed to rise to the top of the foam.

Debbie Ohi has the complete list. And of course, Team Blog got it all here including these 1984ish lines: "She will google people who have submitted their work and read their blogs as part of her research to make her decision."

Waterboarding, caning, and googling…. Welcome to my nightmare!!!

There have been others to chime in on the subject. The killah agent, Janet Reid, said, "You're not invisible, no matter what the guy selling the cloak at Platform [9 ¾ ] said to you."

Shaun Hutchins (Deathday Letters coming out from Simon Pulse in the spring.) fires back with an anti-watch what you say piece. "If no one tells me I suck, I'll never get better."

President Obiwankinobi told kids to watch what they post on FB.

And even more.

Chris Richman and Michael Stearns have been Facebloging in lieu of blahbloging on the subject. If you're not a FB fan of UpStart Crow, you should be.

Got to go post this...

Wait ‘til they see me blog.

There was a lot of good floating around that conference. New friends, old friends, non-alcoholic beer (wink, wink), great agents and editors, all so approachable. Thank you.

I'm still hoarse from laughing.

There was more than just the fun. There was real business going on.

I don't know if it was my energy or if I was "ready" or something, but the agents and editors at SCBWI LA GLAMFEST 09 were different this time.

They were not only gracious and accessible this year, but a hint of something else flashed in their eyes. In everyone's eyes. Every single person at this conference on both sides of the desk seemed hungry.

Like we were going to take over the world with good kid books!

We're in the catbird seat here, people. Children's/YA market share is increasing and that's good. The quality of submissions (our competition) is getting better and better, which only makes for better books.

Write on.

What’s a boy to read? 1

Here's what jumps off this kids' bookshelf in the airport:

First, Miley Cyrus. (OMG y'all: she looks just like Hannah Montana)!!!

My eleven-year old son is with me. He rolls his eyes. Miley stares back and our eyes travel up to The Sisterhood pants, then over to Nick and Nora then La Cliquée, dead centre, and finally leaping up from the base, the support ... Twilight

The Whim woman on the third shelf winks at us, then Miley again and we light on The Calder Game by Blue Balliet, whom we think is Lemony Snicket posing as a woman. But not a bad book. But we've both already read it.

We stay and dig a little. Hidden away Prada & Prejudice. And there's Untamed, Rrrair. Warriors.

What would I like to see?

Anything that moves. The Three Musketeers, Sherman Alexie, Alex Rider, Gordon Korman, 39 Clues, Haddix, Madame Bovary, The Crime Travelers, Percy Jackson, Hemingway, The Young James Bond, Fred Tries to Kill the Moon, Whimpy Kid

Xenophobia

Fear of the Foreign.

I love summer because so many people travel and a few more bricks in the wall are taken down.

Every time I fly over the ocean, I try to pinpoint the exact spot over the Atlantic where I become a foreigner.

I've lived outside of my home culture to the point that the wall for me is rubble. That's a good thing. I am also a francophile. :~)

As far as writing for kids goes, I think they are starving for stories outside of their home cultures. My own stories are Jason Bourne for kids (boys, in particular). Fun. Fast. But quelque chose de different.

Mitali Perkins writes about this cultural divide. She inspired today's blog. You can check her out at http://www.mitaliblog.com/2009/07/ya-books-and-global-poverty.html

Fast Friends

I feel very rich in friends.

For me, we are always making new friends. Continually. I think it's the only way to feel rich is to be rich in friends.

When you meet someone new, you know pretty quickly. You know what I mean? You thin-slice.

I think I make friends pretty easily.

My newest bestest friend I've spent a total of maybe eight hours with him. Total face time, that is.

I met Sarah Frances' husband, John, the other day for the first time and he reminded me how easy it is to make friends with someone brand new to you.

Don't get me wrong here. This former mock-fugative is not without issue, either. John has faux-alQaida ties. He's known to chase bears with brooms. And he has trouble finding good fishing spots. But he has an open door and cold beer behind it.

That's my new criteria for friendship. Open door. Cold beer.

What's your criteria? Do you make friends quicker than others? And for the writery question of the day: Do boys make friends more easily (quicker and not necessarily deeper) than girls?

(photo credit: my oldest bestest friend)