Why We Read, Why We Write … the Inspiration

February 24, 2013February 24, 2013 / still a dreamer / 8 Comments

I count myself very fortunate. Reading was an important and integral part of my life from when I was very young. Everyone in my family read – parents, grandparents and us kids – we always had a book, a magazine, a newspaper or all of the above. If we wanted something to do and the parents were busy, the answer was “Then go read your book,” and it was never a punishment.

In my pre-toddler years I was ensconced at one side of my Mom while she read to my older brother sitting on the other. I was soaking up those words like nobody’s business, and as a result I was reading … and writing … at a very early age. To this day, I am deeply grateful for this gift. It has served as a firm foundation for my never-ending love of reading, learning and writing.

When I was old enough to have a library card, and I believe that was at 5 years old and in kindergarten, I was part of the weekly trek to the town library, where my brother and I would each return with a stack of books. It was one of my greatest thrills to go to that library. And I remember it well because the original building was unlike most others in our little town. The Dixon Homestead Library was an old Dutch Colonial stone house with a gabled roof. (In doing a little research, I found that it was built between 1780 and 1790 by Derick Banta, a Revolutionary War soldier whose birth home on this same site was burned down by the Tories.) When I was a bit older, an adjoining addition for children was built and I remember being able to walk from one “house” to the other.

As a result of my love of books, I also loved to write and still do. Today, as I picked up Bird by Bird – Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott, and after finishing The Smoke Jumper last night, I couldn’t help but think about why we write and why we read.

I believe we read to learn about another’s experience … to be transported into another world in which we feel something that is meaningful to us, whether that is romance, terror, curiosity, amazement or intellectual enrichment of all kinds. We want to experience that which another knows and/or feels and can bring us through words. A good writer touches some part of us that says, Yes! This speaks to me.

Is this, then, why we write? If we are true to our hearts, I would have to say yes because we are at our best when we write what we know. Our writing has the most impact when our reader is drawn in to the world we create and wants to stay. I am aware that when I write, I want to make a difference to a young reader; whether he or she is 5 or 12 years old, it is my fondest hope that her life will be enriched in some way by my words. As I embark on a new writing project, I know I have a lot to think about and learn. I will have to revisit memories and feelings that will make a story come alive. But in this way, I hope to carry the torch of so many amazing authors that have inspired me, touched and enriched my life over the years.

But then … I also write because I simply love to write.

Children’s Book Illustrator Bagram Ibatoulline

February 21, 2013August 23, 2015 / still a dreamer

While purchasing novels at ridiculously low prices at book sales is great, books featuring the work of outstanding illustrators simply must be bought new and treasured. In this category, I cannot say enough good things about Bagram Ibatoulline. He has become one of my favorite illustrators over the last few years.

In Crow Call by Lois Lowry, a Newbery Medal winner, Ibatoulline brings to life both the characters and the autumn quiet of the woods and fields of rural Pennsylvania. Liz is the shy daughter reconnecting with her father who’s been gone a long time to war. They slowly re-establish their relationship with “Daddy” taking Liz out for a very special breakfast and then a trip to the woods where she calls the crows to wake up and come to her. Daddy has brought his gun to hunt, but easily sees where Liz’ heart is. The story itself is touching, but the illustrations are magnificent.

The feel of the woods and the trees, the capturing of the crows in flight, and the beauty in facial expression and body language of Liz and Daddy are just superb. Ibatoulline was born in Russia and is the illustrator of many acclaimed books, two of which will welcome Crow Call to my bookshelves, Scarecrow’s Dance and The Miraculous Journey of Edward Toulane. His illustration graces picture and middle grade books of all kinds from fairy tales to history to wonderful stories by some of our best modern day authors and poets.

If you are a fan of brilliant children’s book illustration, Bagram Ibatoulline will certainly inspire and delight you.

In the Moment

February 1, 2013 / still a dreamer / 6 Comments

At 4:30 this morning I was jarred into awakening by the sound of my currently empty garbage can hurtling across my back porch to points South. (It was placed there as the least likely spot to be pushed around by winds gusting to 50 mph. Clearly, the wind knew better than I.)

And at that pre-dawn hour, when many unwelcome thoughts clamber into our consciousness, a score of them crowded my mind. They all had to do with the future and with things that in all likelihood would never come to pass. But such is the mindset when we are catapulted into wakefulness from a sound sleep.

Some time later, curled up on the couch with my coffee and happily-fed, drowsy cats, I opened up to read from The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo. In language far more poetic than my own, he described the ancient human challenge of staying in the miracle that is and not falling into the black hole of what is not. He provided a simple breathing exercise to let go of all the imagined outcomes that are not yet real. In other words, be in the moment. Perfect.

So this evening, just about 12 hours after my abrupt morning awakening, I was working at my desk. The wind continued to wrestle with the trees and I looked out the window to see the magnificent sky pictured above. At first, I thought to continue my work. Then I realized that that sky was the miracle of now, exactly what I had been reading about and reflecting upon. I chose that moment.

Toni Morrison’s Paradise

January 15, 2013January 15, 2013 / still a dreamer

Paradise is the first book I’ve read by Toni Morrison, and I can assure you I will read more. In fact, it’s hard for me to not go back and re-read this book right now.

Here’s a couple things I can tell you – do not read this book late at night when you’re tired; do not put it down for extended periods of time and think you will be able to easily jump right back in; and do not read it when distracted. Here’s why. Toni Morrison assumes you’re paying attention. Her characters are complex as is the storyline … there’s a lot to remember … a lot you want to remember when you’re reading Paradise. This is not light reading, but it is a truly amazing read.

Toni Morrison’s use of language is exquisite; I was thrilled repeatedly with the beauty of how she chooses and uses words. Her characters are so real I wanted to either step in the pages to be with them or have them come and sit down by me and talk; tell me about their lives and how they changed being in Ruby, OK; how they changed living in the Convent with Connie and the other women; tell me more.

The storyline of Paradise is of a group of ex-slaves freed from Louisiana and Mississippi who, rejected by their fairer skinned brethren and terrified by whites, set up their own community deep in the Oklahoma country, self-sufficient and proud. The history of their forefathers was revered and their insular lives safe. Safe except for the women who had come to live at the Convent – women whose lives had been torn apart by suffering at one time or another and who made their way, tried to heal, in this isolated home outside town. Paradise is, in part, about what happens when people come to see others the same way they once were viewed and what they do about it. And, in part, about redemption and finding one’s place in the world.

This is far, far, far too simplistic a summary of this extraordinary novel. If you want to be immersed in another time and place, in the lives of people so real it can be painful, perhaps Paradise is for you. I’m not sure what I can read right after this that will not pale beside it.