What better day than Dr. Seuss’s birthday than to celebrate how I’ve been living a creative life? And though I haven’t been writing in the drafting-a-new-book sense (my favorite kind of writing), I’ve been immersing myself in the creative life in other ways.
The reign of school visits ended last week. In less than three weeks, I taught eight writing workshops to more than 200 students, ranging from grades 4 to 7. This particular workshop is about where story ideas come from and includes a guided writing/thought exercise where the kids come up with their own story ideas. They never cease to amaze me with their thoughtfulness and creativity. The workshop is about inspiring kids, but I always come out inspired by them!
After one session, a 6th-grade girl walked down the hallway with me and shared a poem she had written about herself. It was lyrical, had a great cadence, and optimistic, a beautiful portrayal of herself. After another, nearly the entire 4th-grade class lined up with their scraps of papers and waited in line for my autograph, totally making me feel like a celebrity. Connecting with young readers and writers is 
magical! Plus, talking with the librarians and teachers who teach these kids everyday is informative and inspiring.
Monday the Connecticut Humanities and the authors and illustrators of THE GREAT CONNECTICUT CAPER celebrated the hardcover and audio release of the book at a local library. It’s always fun to catch up with my Caper collaborators. I haven’t listened to the whole audio version yet, but what I did listen to was brilliantly narrated (listen to the Caper audiobook here).
Of course, I’ve been reading a lot. In particular, I’ve been stepping out of my comfort zone of YA and reading adult books and non-fictions. And always, always, always reading to the boys. Last week I squeezed in visiting The Boy’s pre-school class for World Read Aloud Day. I’ll leave you with some of our favorite Seuss books.
writer’s block, or are afraid to look at our inboxes because of an influx of rejections). It’s bound to turn up in our writing.
#InkRipples
The wee hours of Friday morning. Sirens blare. Heart quickens. Body from dead asleep to pinpoint alert in seconds. I knew this could happen, but it doesn’t make my pulse pound any slower. I feel the hubby—it’s too dark to see—rise next to me. “Here we go,” I say, not exactly sure what we’re in for. I’ve never been in a tsunami before.
The last tsunami to hit French Polynesia after the earthquake in Chili in February 2010 was measured in inches. I had looked it up because after I had heard tsunamis had been in the area, I had wanted to make sure my favorite tropical location was still intact. The remote location and the surrounding coral reefs had kept French Polynesia safe, but that didn’t mean we would get through this one unscathed.
The hubby seems mildly concerned. His calm demeanor only proves to grate on my already agitated one. He hasn’t been watching the coverage as long as I have. He didn’t see the list of countries under tsunami warnings. He hasn’t let his mind wander to dark places and worse-case-scenarios.
