squeetus

Let's play, guess what's going on with Shannon!

• For about seven weeks now, feeling so tired, needing about 10 hours of sleep a night and an afternoon nap
• Nausea, worse in the morning and evening, periodic gagging and vomiting
• Pants no longer fit
• Headaches
• Emotional
• Lying in bed in the morning, moaning, until husband brings some food, though nothing looks good to eat
• Many foods suddenly unappetizing, such as water, milk, salad, anything fatty or sugary
• Random foods suddenly very appetizing, though I can only comsume tiny quantities
• Consuming an inordinate amount of saltines
• Unable to bend over without dry heaving
• Get lightheaded after climbing a single flight of stairs

Poor Max is getting so bored with his couch-bound mama. He's been a trooper, though. And a genuine miracle occured when I felt so good in New Orleans. Part of that, I'm sure, was that I was so well rested (and part was the $18/pill prescription meds--ouch!), but I didn't throw up once the whole time! I thought I was on the mend, but then I came home and the vomiting resumed. Max has taken to making fake throw-up noises when referring to me. It's so pleasant.

The Big Easy

I'm back from New Orleans, which was an amazing trip in so many ways. Shall I do a travelog? Are you sure? It'll be a crazy long entry if I do. Okay I will, but you don't have to read it if you don't want.

Thursday

Dean and I painfully separated ourselves from Max at his grandma's house. We were near tears, wanting to kiss him again and again. He was playing the piano and was like, "Leaving yet? Yeah, whatever. This piano is sure interesting." We had a layover that was supposed to be an hour and a half, but they tacked an extra four hours onto it. It was a little hard, but it was so much fun just to be with Dean. I really like him. Don't tell, though. I want to find out if he likes me, first.

Friday

We had nothing to do until night! So we slept in, walked through the French Quarter to have a jazz breakfast at the Court of the Two Sisters. Holy humidity. I'm from a dry envirnment and hadn't grown my gills yet, so the climate was a bit shocking. After we hung out in our hotel room. For parents of toddlers, all that leisure time was intoxicating. Friday night I had dinner with the Newbery committee. Isn't that amazing to be able to say that? It was so fun! I've always said that librarians make some of the best company around, and this group was like the Justice League of librarians. I fell in love with each of them. I actually did. Frankly, it was rather easy to do. And I had fresh fish covered in crab meat and broccoli with bernaise sauce (none of which I spelled right, I'd bet). GOOD food. Seafood is my favorite, so costal towns are my tummy's delight. I'm such a dork, I didn't realize until I was dressing that night that I hadn't brought any appropriate shoes for such an occassion so I had to wear a pair of my editor's shoes. I don't think that was in her job description, but she didn't complain.

Saturday

Slept in again! Then we went to have breakfast at a very snazzy joint called Brennan's, had a baked apple floating in cream, strawberry crepes, poached eggs in artichoke hearts. Mmm. (photo: Dean eating aforementioned apple.) As we walked back to the hotel, we passed a band playing on the street corner. A tuba player led two trumpeters, two trombonists, two drummers, and an electric guitarists. They were awesome! And all looked to be about nineteen years old. What a town. For lunch we ate at Acme's and I had a fried oyster po' boy with tabasco mayo. Wow. Later my awesome editor took me out for my first pedicure! It was so lovely, so relaxing, and my toenails are a lovely deep red shade that matched my dress for the Sunday banquet. That night, we had dinner with more amazing librarians. What is it about librarians? They're smart and funny and insightful, and also basically nice, and hopeful, and like books. And I got into a lovely discussion with several about Joss Whedon's genius. We were at the Red Fish Grill; I had the fish. Why not? There was a fried oyster appetizer dripping with BBQ sauce and blue cheese dressing that I keep dreaming about.

Sunday

In the morning, we went to the convention center to do a signing at the Bloomsbury booth, then Dean and I walked around and snatched up several free Advance Reading Copies with much glee. We landed a couple of graphic novels and the new Peter and the Starcatchers sequel with special happiness. Also go to meet Lane Smith, M.T. Anderson, and had some other literary superstars sightings. The ALA convention is huge. You can go anywhere and find some amazing author signing books, that are on sale at huge discounts. It's such a book nerd paradise. And I'm such a book nerd. We headed back to the hotel to rest up for the night.

At six, I shimmied into my red dress and high heeled, clear plastic Cinderella shoes, and my editor and I went to the "Winner's Reception." There I got to hang again with the cool Newbery committee and meet Lynne Rae Perkins, Alan Armstrong, Susan Campbell Bartoletti, and Jaqueline Woodson, and catch glimpses of the Caldecott winners. (photo: with several from the committee) Very quickly my Cinderella shoes proved to me why Cinderella lost one in the first place--because they give blisters and aren't near as comfortable as they were in the shoe shop. I don't think I wore them again for the remainder of the night. At seven we went into the banquet, which was HUGE. I'm not sure of the numbers, but I think it was over 1000 people and maybe up to 4000? I have no sense of numbers, so I can't really say. Bloomsbury had a couple of tables reserved. I sat with my husband, agent, editor, other lovely folks from Bloomsbury, two of the Newbery ladies (Doris and Sue), and two other lovely librarians. There was a lot of applauding that night. When they announced all the members of the committee, they asked everyone not to applaud until the end, but SOMEONE hooted for Doris and Sue anyway. I thought it completely inappropriate and I would NEVER do something so impolite, but if I ever did, in my defense, they didn't specify no hooting until the end.

After dinner, they did the awards. It caught be somewhat by surprise, I must say. I didn't think I'd be so excited. I mean, I'd known about the Newbery Honor now for six months, so it wasn't a surprise by any means. But it was so exciting! Barbara Barstow said the most lovely things about princess academy, that started my tear ducts working. Then she called me up to the stage to receive the plaque. The applause was overwhelming--and you're award it's not strangers but a room full of people who are all part of this amazing purpose to create stories and get them into kids' hands. I really had planned on walking up slowly and with much dignity, but a combination of elation and worry that the longer I took to get up there the longer people would have to clap for me made me suddenly run. The barefeet helped.

I hugged and hugged sweet Barbara, and then I turned for my picture (and I'm sure I looked oh-so-lovely as I was crying, of course, because my tear ducts will never give me a break). Then I think I hugged her again because I couldn't help it, and I found myself saying to a woman I'd known for two days, "I love you, Barbara!" And she said, "I love you, too!" And you know what? We both really meant it. Show me a better business in the world that books! (photos: Dean took these of the screen where they projected images from the stage, me and Barbara and the very nice plaque. For the first time, I feel confident that no one's going to take the Newbery Honor away! I have proof now and many witnesses.)

Lynne Rae's speech was so lovely and perfect. I missed the beginning of Chris Ratchka's because I had to waddle off to the bathroom (I'm such a dork), but the end was so great. Then we retired to another room for a receiving line. Jacqueline Woodson had also run onto stage for her award, and we talked and realized that we'd both been barefoot. Something to that, I think. I don't know how long were were in the receiving line (an hour? two?) but I met superspeed so many delightful people, and even though I was really tired by the end, it was still delightful and I wouldn't have missed it. Many people told me that I looked like a princess. That's never a bad thing to hear. And it was a little eerie how many people seemed to know who I was. A serious highlight was when Linda Sue Park came through the line, who is my candidate for president. I defy anyone not to fall in love with that woman. Then home to bed...

...and some tossing and turning, as the air conditioning in our hotel room broke during the night.

Monday

(photo: in Bloomsbury booth with Dean and Sue, from the committee) Another signing at the convention in the morning. It was fun to see Brooke and Julie, two of my hometown teen librarians, in the front of the line. A lovely lunch before setting off to the airport and a long travel home. We didn't get to bed until 2 am.

Tuesday

And then Max was awake at 7 am, so the sleep-in holiday was officially over. But he's so cute! And though I've been half asleep all day, we've had a delightful time snuggling and reading books. He's even smarter and cuter than when we left and doesn't seem to be holding a grudge.

Ah, semantics

I've had some emails from people who are clearly confused about my upcoming projects, so I thought I'd clarify:

"You're writing a graphic novel?!!"

"Graphic" here doesn't mean "descriptive of violence, sex, etc." but rather "containing pictures." It's a comic book. rapunzel's revenge will be a comic-western-fairy tale-adventure. It's completely PG, maybe even G (there's lots of action, but it's not gratuitious violence). And you're going to love it. You'd be crazy not to. Dean co-wrote it, and he's so clever and funny, and Nathan Hale's illustrations are going to be amazing. Not out until 2008, but I swear it'll be worth the wait.

"So, why not just say "comic book"?"

Traditionally, comic books are 23-page soft bound issues that are part of an ongoing series. A graphic novel is book length and presents a self-contained story. They look a lot the same on the inside--panels with pictures and word balloons. It's such a great medium for storytelling. I love that so many of my readers, who have never read a comic book or graphic novel, will be introduced to this wonderful world of visual books through rapunzel's revenge!

"AND you're writing an adult novel?!!"

K, again, we're probably misreading words here. It's "adult" as in "published by a mainstream publisher, not a children's publisher, with a main character who is of an adult age," NOT "adult" as in "adult video store." Sheesh. (The English language needs some new terms, obviously, 'cause graphic and adult just have too many meanings.) If it were a movie, I'd rate it PG. It's about adults so there are adult situations, but I'd feel comfortable giving it to my grandmother. If you're worried that I'm going to get smutty, know that, in my opinion, it's loads cleaner than prime time TV. (though I guess that sometimes isn't saying much...)

"What, are you selling out?!!"

Wikipedia defines selling out as "the compromising of one's integrity, morality and principles in exchange for money, success or other personal gain. It is commonly associated with attempts to increase mass appeal or acceptability to mainstream society." I'm a little shocked that people ask me this question without seeming to realize what an insult it is. I do not compromise my integrity with what I write. I choose what I write. I do not have the ability to try and write for what I think might sell or what the market wants. I can only respond to the stories and characters that nag me and try and do my best by them. I'm writing an adult novel because the story appealed to me. In all likelihood, my adult novel (because it's my first foray into a new field) will be less successful than my young adult books. I'm not getting rich off it, not trying to break away from YA lit, no one's pressured me to do it. I just had a story to tell, and I've done my best to tell it in the best way possible, one that's true to the story and the characters and to my own sense of the world.

"And what's the title again?"

Officially, the title of the adult book is now and forevermore, austenland. I know supporters of the title ostensibly jane will be sad. It was a tough call for me, but ultimately I felt that austenland better represented the book and made it more accessible to readers. And I had good news this week--my editor read the recent draft and was very happy with it, and we're poised to send it on to copy editing and get the ball rolling! Hooray! This is a book I've been working on for 6 years, so it's wonderful to see it come to fruition.

Amazing stuff

I'm facilitating a YA Novel workshop next week and in preparation have been reading submitted mss from the participants. They all had to send in a first chapter of a YA or middle grade novel they're working on. After reading 13 chapters, I have to say, this industry has some stiff competition. They were all great in their own ways and all made me want to read more. This is the kind of stuff publishers are getting in their slush pile, which means the competition is so tight. With so many good books being written and submitted, I think you have to be GREAT to catch the attention. And you have to find just the right editor for your book, which can take months and years of searching (goose girl was rejected by nine publishers before finding Bloomsbury).

It's a tough field. But I think that's exciting! It's the impetus we writers need to make ourselves even better, to craft every word, to sing our souls into the writing, to make a book worth dancing about! I hope that hopeful writers see the invigorating challenge in this and take it boldly, and not let themselves get discouraged. Never be satisfied with "good enough." Go write a book so brilliant, so lovely and exciting and interesting and new, that when the right editor reads it, she can't possibly say no!

Bagel sandwiches

I enjoy them. I had one for lunch.

The Squeeter Pig will be going out very soon. The content has been ready for a month, but I've kept my poor husband too busy to make it newsletter worthy. We're going to be moving to a new home in a couple of months, and we're in the process of prettying up our condo to sell. Today we had the carpets cleaned. Max freaked out when he woke up and found the living room/eating area entirely void of furniture. "Uh-oh," he kept saying, pointing around him with angry anxiety. "Uh-oh, Mama!"

I turned in a new draft of my adult novel and now I'm back working on YA #5, as I've taken to calling my current project, previously titled Diary of a Lady's Maid. The title will be changing, so I don't want to get too attached to it. I've also changed the names of three of the main characters, which can be somewhat bewildering in my head.

Reading pledge

When I visit schools and groups, I usually talk about how I became a writer and how to be a lifelong reader. (My publicist reminds me that I should talk about my books, and I try to remember, but I'm not very good at that.) We talk about how many books there are in the world and how to find books that are right for you, not getting stuck in a boring book for month after month. And I declare that it's scientifically impossible to read a book too young for you!

One thing I often do is take a reading pledge with the audience. I do this with everyone, elementary school age kids through adults. We all need it, in my opinion. I vary the pledge a little, depending on the audience and what I think their needs might be. I've had a few requests to post it on my site, so I'll do it here temporarily and add a reading section later. Thousands of people in the US and UK have taken this pledge. I want to clarify that when I present this pledge, I emphasize that I'm talking about books that we read on our own, the books we pick up for pleasure, not what a teacher assigns. Please don't go to your teacher claiming that Shannon Hale said you don't have to read her assigned books!

THE PLEDGE

On this day, June 7, 2006, Shannon Hale, the famous and beautiful writer, told me that I never have to read a boring book again, when I'm reading for fun. If I read 15 pages or 50 pages and it's still boring, I can put it down and go find a better book. And if anyone ever tells me the book I'm reading is too young for me, just because it's a picture book, or a comic book, or it's short, or the font is too big, or it's a fantasy, or it's funny, I can tell them, You're wrong! Shannon Hale told me I can! Thank you very much.

(feel free to adapt the pledge to your own needs and reuse anyway you like)

Several people have pointed me to the Reader Bill of Rights, a great, concise list of rights we have to read in our own style and pace. It's great!

My thoughts on Criss Cross

Criss Cross, by Lynne Rae Perkins, won the Newbery Medal this year. A glance at the customer reviews on Amazon.com shows what vastly different reactions this book is producing. It's always this way with a book that wins a major award, I think. This was a small, quiet book before the award. When the ALA shines that brilliant golden spotlight on any book, the attention tends to expose it not only to wider readership but also to harsher criticism. That's the way it goes, I guess.

I'll admit I was nervous to read it. I'll be meeting Lynne Rae this month, and it's so uncomfortable to meet a writer if you can't honestly say, "I loved your book." But then again, it feels disrespectful to me to not bother at all. So I did read it. And I'm so relieved to report:

I LOVED IT.

This is a story that felt fresh and refreshing. It interweaves the stories of several young people in a small town, presumably in the 1970's, though the time period isn't really important. The narrator is omniscient and so gentle with her characters and their lives, she made me want to be extra caring of those around me, too. The prose was delicate and thoughtful, and sometimes truly funny. There's no mother with cancer, no date rape or abused child, no major trauma that often gives impetus to contemporary novels. And no adventure or magic, no real tragedy or heroism. The quietness makes every day events so much more precious, curious, lovely.

I think this is a book that might not be for everyone, or perhaps it's a you-have-to-be-in-the-mood kind of a story. The structure is episodic, there's no strong arcs of action. It's a hammock read. As much as I enjoyed it, I don't think I would like reading two books like this back-to-back. I think I understand why some people just don't dig this novel, and I think it's a completely legitimate reaction. No book is for everyone. But as for me, I thought it perfect.