Ivy in the Shadows and a Giveaway!

I'm interrupting my mini-series on Dear Senator since I just finished reading Ivy in the Shadows by Chris Woodworth and have another copy to give away. 

Upper elementary and middle school girl readers will enjoy this true-to-life story of a 12-year-old girl.  Ivy is learning how to deal with her mother's failed marriages, assuming more responsibility for her younger brother J.J, navigating the waters of changed school friendships, and figuring out Caleb, the boarder her mother takes in to help make ends meet. 

Like many children in families, Ivy learns about life by eavesdropping. She listens to her mother's discussions with her best friend, "Aunt" Maureen and finds out about their love lives and about her step-father. But eavesdropping only works some of the time. When she incorrectly pieces together the information she hears Caleb telling J.J., her faulty conclusions lead her down the wrong path. 

I appreciate how Chris Woodworth portrays a young girl trying to figure out who is telling the truth, who to trust, and how appearances aren't always what they seem to be. There are strong messages on the importance of honesty, facing the consequences of false assumptions, admitting when one is wrong, and the characteristics of a true friend. 

I also loved Ivy's voice, which you get to hear right from the opening paragraph:

Some say you get your best education in school. Others say it's through life. I got my best education early on eavesdropping at Mama's feet while she talked to my aunt on the telephone. (p. 1)

Thanks to Joy Peskin, Chris's editor, of Farrar Straus Giroux Books for Young Readers, I am giving away an autographed copy of Ivy in the Shadows. So, for those of you who didn't win a copy back in February when I posted the backstory about this book, here's another chance!

Here are the giveaway rules:

• Post this blog on your social media site of choice OR become a new follower of this blog. 
• Either way, leave a comment with your email address (if you are new to my blog) with what you did.
• I will draw a winner's name on Monday morning, June 3. 

Thanks for entering!

Multi-Racial Read #12: Dear Senator- Part III

In the previous posts in this series, I shared excerpts from Dear Senator: A Memoir of the Daughter of Strom Thurmond that covered Essie Mae's early years. This post includes some of her struggles with her racial identity. 

During her nursing training at Harlem Hospital Essie Mae attended Reverend Adam Clayton Powell, Jr.'s church, the Abyssinian Baptist Church. She admired the fact that he was "so light skinned that it was always said he could have 'passed for white.' Perhaps the most inspiring thing about him what that he didn't want to. (p. 85) She reflected,

A lot of girls, the light-skinned ones, frequently talked about passing, marrying into the white world, preferably the rich white world, and living on East Street- Park Avenue, not Lenox. Here I was, born into the rich, white world, the plantation world, and yet where was I? It could have been easy to be resentful, because I was "it" or at least half of "it," yet it was doing me no good aside from two envelopes of money. I was grateful to have a church to turn to, to count my blessings and pray for more, and to watch this great "white" preacher embrace his blackness. If he could be happy with it, so could anyone else. (p. 85)

Essie Mae decided nursing wasn't for her and discussed her options when Strom visited after the war was over. She was pleased when he suggested she attend the "state" college back home in South Carolina until she realized that he meant the "Negro college."  

He didn't have the heart to say the word. In face, he had never spoken the word in my presence He couldn't bring himself to do it, but there it was. My father saw me as a Negro. I may have been half black and half white, but the rule in the courts was a drop of blood made you black. I don't know what else I was expecting. I had lived my whole life as a Negro, but to hear it from my white father, and a judge at that, made it a brutal ruling, and one with no appeal. I could either go to a "Yankee" college or a "Negro" college, but I couldn't go to a "Southern" college, because that meant a white college, and despite my white father, I couldn't be white. p.97"

Next week I'll share Essie Mae's thoughts on her father as South Carolina's 103rd governor and its effect on her. Here are links to the previous posts:

Part I
Part II

Multi-Racial Read #11: Dear Senator Part II

Last week, in my first blog about Dear Senator: A Memoir by the Daughter of Strom Thurmond, I shared highlights of Essie Mae Washington-Williams’ early years and the revelation of her parentage.  This second  post includes some of Essie Mae’s teenage and early adult recollections.

Meeting her father for the first time changed Essie Mae. Always a good student, she tried to use her academic abilities to gain white friends. She wrote,

Knowing that I had a white father somehow emboldened me to do things I would never have done before. 

In particular, one time in high school she was caught allowing Gloria- a pretty blond cheerleader who all the boys liked—to cheat off her paper.  When the teacher reprimanded her, she “lectured me about everybody having to stand on her own feet, that if I could stand so nicely on mine, so could Gloria. The implication was that if a poor black girl could do well in math, it should be a piece of cake for the school’s white princess. The idea that Gloria needed “Negro” assistance was beneath her and the school’s dignity. I hung my head and apologized…Gloria never did speak to me one way or the other. P.47

When World War II broke out, Essie Mae learned from Carrie that her father had volunteered.  Her mother explained,

He’s an Edgefield man,” she said proudly. “They need to fight. It’s in their blood. His grandfather was right beside Robert E. Lee when he surrendered. War runs in the family.”

But is it really “our” family? I wanted to ask her. Talk about being the poor relations. We were the invisible relations.

…..

As Coatesville hunkered down for war, I tried my hardest to put Strom Thurmond out of my mind. Yet like a moth to a flame, I couldn’t stop reading about South Carolina and the “Gone with the Wind” world that was at least half my birthright, but it was a birthright I could not claim. I wanted to find out the worst about this forbidden family, so that I could hate them and want nothing to do with them. After all, did they not formerly own slaves? …And what was my father up to? What kind of justice to blacks did he dispense? (p. 56)

These conflicts and questions would haunt Essie Mae for her entire life.

After a brief meeting in a Philadelphia hotel room while Strom was on leave, he shook her hand and saw her and Mary (her aunt) to the door.

“Is he ashamed of me?” I asked Mary when were out in the street.

“Ashamed?” She opened the envelope and counted 200 dollars in twenties, just as before. “Do you call this ashamed?’

Two hundred dollars was indeed a lot of money, but spread out over three years, it wasn’t that much. Wasn’t a daughter worth more than that? “That doesn’t mean he cares about me,” I said.

“It does to me. It does indeed,” Mary said. (p. 73)

This pattern of secret meetings and money gifts continued long into Essie Mae’s adulthood. Although later in life family members would say these payments were “shush” money, Essie Mae came to believe that the money was expressions of his love for her and her mother—although it always hurt that he never publically acknowledged her as his daughter.

After high school, Essie Mae decided to pursue nursing.  She only considered black programs thinking,

It didn’t occur to me to apply to a program for one of the great university hospitals….though I might have been qualified to get in. I guess I “knew my place,” my white father notwithstanding. There were talented blacks at all these institutions, but I was too locked into the self-perception of race limitation to try to test the color lines. I was shy and self-effacing and had never been away from home…Penetrating the white universe was far too intimidating a prospect. If my own white father didn’t want me, why would anyone else? (p. 74-5)

Multi-Racial Read #10: Dear Senator Part I

When I packed DearSenator: A Memoir by the Daughter of Strom Thurmond in my backpack for a recent trip from Charlotte to Los Angeles, I had no idea that my journey west would replicate one that Essie Mae Washington-Williams took sixty years ago.

But the replication process, although interesting and similar, was one of geography only. My trip wasn’t to find a home that would provide racial equality for my children and myself.

Essie Mae’s was.

But I am beginning in the middle of her story. Using quotes from her autobiography, I plan to share her journey over the course of the next few blog posts. As my faithful blog readers know, I am reading books with a multi-racial theme to provide authenticity to my work in progress, Half-Truths. If you are interested, previous books reviews can be found at that link.

Essie Mae grew up in Coatesville, Pennsylvania, a small steel town forty miles west of Philadelphia. As 12 she accepted Christ and remembered,

The Bible was all white, but so were the movies. I loved them both. The whiteness I just accepted, just like a lot of other things. Acceptance was our way of life, as there didn’t seem to be much point, or hope, of trying to change the system. p. 7

Soon after, her life was inalterably changed. A dark-skinned beautiful woman (Carrie) came to visit and announced that she was Essie Mae’s mother.  It turned out that Mary, the woman who had raised her, was really her aunt. Carrie left before Essie Mae could ask who her father was.

She found out several years later.

Accompanied by Mary and Carrie, Essie Mae travelled to Edgefield, South Carolina for a funeral. Days later, Mary dressed her up and took her to meet her father- a rich white lawyer named Strom Thurmond. After an hour filled with Thurmond’s history lectures and admonitions that Essie Mae “study hard,” Thurmond told Carrie:

“You have a lovely daughter.” It was a kind thought, but inside it hurt me. I would have liked to have heard him say, “We have a lovely daughter.”… He never called my mother by her first name.  He didn’t verbally acknowledge that I was his child…It was like an audience with an important man, a job interview, but not a reunion with a father.” p. 39

That first meeting foreshadowed Thurmond’s sincere interest in Essie Mae as well as her unquenchable desire to be acknowledged as his daughter.  After the meeting, Essie Mae learned the story of her parents’ encounter at young Strom’s home.  He was 23, home from Clemson University and teaching high school. She was a fifteen-year-old domestic who he and his brothers flirted with. Carrie’s explanation of “How did it happen?” was short and to the point: “Love finds a way, darling.”

Although Carrie felt as if Strom loved her, the deep racism of the Jim Crow South along with his family’s prominence, dictated that they keep their relationship a secret. Essie Mae deduced that her parents continued to find time and ways to be together, but as she grew up, he chose to visit her apart from her mother.

Like other teenagers, Essie Mae’s adolescence was filled with identity issues, but hers was compounded by the ups and downs of her mixed-race parentage.

In my darkest hours I began to look at all black people as victims and white people as oppressors, and everything in America struck me as grossly unfair. In my brightest hours I began to look at myself as someone very special, an amalgam of all that was great about America. I had a brilliant white father and a beautiful black mother; was I not the golden child? Alas, the real Essie Mae fell somewhere between these two poles. I was too humble to be conceited, to meek to be a firebrand. My mantra was “accept,” and accept I did at least outwardly. Yet inside me was pure turbulence. (p.45)

Next week I'll continue to highlight Essie Mae's life journey.

Two Editors and a Comma: Dialogue Workshop

Betsy Thorpe and Carin Siegfried
"Two Editors and a Comma"

"Am I punctuating this correctly?"

"Do I use quotes or italics when I write internal dialogue?"

"How does point of view impact dialogue?"

These are just a few of the questions which Betsy Thorpe and Carin Siegfried answered in their recent writing workshop. 

Here are some of my takeaways:

• Italicize internal dialogue. 
• Match dialogue to the tone of the scene. 
• Practice writing dialogue to convey different meaning and/or circumstances between the speakers. 
• Don't lecture; avoid  "info dump".
• Weave dialogue together with narrative, the characters' actions, and their thoughts. 
• Make sure each character sounds different. Use different words, idioms, and expressions. Create a style guide for each main character.
• "Said" is the invisible tag. Use it!
• You can't "laugh" a sentence. In other words, it can't be: "What a silly child you are," she laughed.
• Dialogue tags in the middle of a sentence makes it choppy. Don't write: "Are you," she asked, "coming with us?"
• Use an em dash when the speaker is interrupted. 
• Action/description beats should vary within a story and be distinctive.
• Interior dialogue consists of nonverbal thoughts that a character wouldn't say out loud; self-analysis; or inner conflict. Interior dialogue is honest, reveals backstory, and shows a character's emotional state. It is best used when characters aren't saying what they truly mean.

I asked Carin to comment on a snippet of dialogue from my current draft. I wondered which of these two examples she liked better and why:

1. Kate must be looking for clues too! Lillie’s heart beat hard. She forced her voice to stay calm. “Wonder what she’s doing up there?” she asked Frank.

2. Kate must be looking for clues too! Lillie’s heart beat hard. “Wonder what she’s doing up there?” she asked Frank. Lillie tried to make her voice sound casual, almost as if she was barely interested.

Carin replied: 

I would go with option 2, although it really is a close call. I like “casual” instead of “calm” as it implies more. And I like have the description both before and after the line of dialogue, instead of just before. But it’s really your call, depending on exactly the tone you’re looking for. As with more things in writing, there is no right or wrong answer! 

Which goes to show that word choice is extremely important and that tone in dialogue and beats is something writers must practice, practice, practice!

How about you? Do you have any dialogue tips that we all need to hear?

No pun intended!

World Book Night 2013: The Phantom Tollbooth

As a part of World Book Night, this year I will be giving away copies of The Phantom Tollbooth to students in my tutoring program. I regret not reading this book with my father--a true lover of puns, imagery, and wordplay--but I am glad that I finally savored it myself.

For those of you who have never read Norton Juster's classic tale of   Milo, the young boy who goes on a quest for something to enliven his boring life and returns enriched and ready for his next adventure, this post is a list of my (some!) favorite quotes. I hope they will entice you to share the book with another reader--old or young--who will enjoy Milo's adventures, Juster's imagination, and Jules Feiffer's illustrations. 

So, without further ado and some brief explanations:

"I never knew words could be so confusing," Milo said to Tock as he bent down to scratch the dog's ear.

"Only when you use a lot to say a little," answered Tock. p.44

**********

At the Word Market Milo tries to decide what word to buy:

"Maybe if I buy some I can learn how to use them," said Milo eagerly as he began to pick through the words in the stall. Finally, he chose three which looked particularly good to him-"quagmire," "flabbergast," and "upholstery." He had no idea what they meant, but they looked very grand and elegant. p.47

*********

A small wagon is sent to pick up Milo and Tock. Milo is perplexed.

"How are you going to make it move? It doesn't have a--"

"Be very quiet," advised the duke, "for it goes without saying."

And sure enough, as son as they were all quite still, it began to move quickly through the streets... p. 79

*********

King Azaz the Unabridged has just asked Milo what he can do. When Milo admits he has no special talents, the king replies:

"What an ordinary little boy," commented the king. "Why my cabinet members can do all sorts of things. The duke here can make mountains out of molehills. The minister splits hairs. The count makes hay while the sun shines. The earl leaves no stone unturned. And the undersecretary," he finished ominously, "hangs by a thread. Can't you do anything at all?" p. 85

**********

Milo asks a stranger where he is:

"Do you know where we are?" asked Milo.

"Certainly," replied, "we're right here on this very spot. Besides, being lost is never a matter of not knowing where you are; it's a matter of not knowing where you aren't--and I don't care at all about where I'm not." p. 110

************

Milo meets the Soundkeeper who invents sounds:

"But how do you invent a sound?" Milo inquired.

"Oh, that's very easy," she said. "First you must decide exactly what the sound looks like, for each sound has its own exact shape and size...

"Take laughter; for instance," she said, laughing brightly, and a thousand tiny brightly colored bubbles flew into the air and popped noiselessly. "Or speech," she continued. "Some of it is light and airy, some sharp and pointed, but most of it, I'm afraid, is just heavy and dull." pp. 156-157

**********

Milo lands on the Island of Conclusions and queries a man named Canby:

"But how did we get here?" asked Milo, who was still a bit puzzled by being there at all.

"You jumped, of course," explained Canby. "That's the way most everyone gets here. It's really quite simple: Every time you decide something without having a good reason, you jump to Conclusions whether you like it or not. It's such an easy trip to make that I've been here hundreds of times.

"But this is such an unpleasant-looking place," Milo remarked.

"Yes, that's true," admitted Canby; "it does look much better from a distance." p. 168

************

Milo takes a trip to the land of Infinity.

"I should have known it," he mumbled, resting his tired legs and filling his lungs with air. "This is just like the line that goes on forever, and I'll never get there."

"You wouldn't like it much anyway," someone replied gently. "Infinity is a dreadfully poor place. They can never manage to make ends meet." p.193

**********

Milo and Tock bring Rhyme and Reason (two banished princesses) back to the kingdom and the king remarks:

"... as you've discovered, so many things are possible just as long as you don't know they're impossible."

And for the remainder of the ride Milo didn't utter a sound. p. 247

************

I read the 50th anniversary edition which includes comments and notes from authors and educators who were inspired by The Phantom Tollbooth. If you haven't read it yet, make sure to add this playful yet provocative fantasy to your "to read" list and share its delicacies with another reader. 

To entice you further, here's a short video where you meet Juster and Feiffer:

All You Need is Pain

    With all respect to the Beatles, I have found that more than love, writers really need PAIN in their lives.

     As an instructor in the continuing education department at Central Piedmont Community College, this week I participated in their annual Sensoria event. I was joined by two other writing instructors, Jodi Helmer and Edward McKeown, and together we quickly overviewed the writing and publishing industry.

Ed, Jodi, and I greeted students after the Author's Panel

     Besides sharing the author who has influenced me the most (CynthiaVoigt) and my writing mentors (Joyce Hostetter and Rebecca Petruck) I also told the student audience they needed to consider the P.A.I.N necessary to get published. 
     Let me explain.

     P is for the passion a writer must have in order to bring a piece to publication. Writers must love translating their ideas into words, sentences, and paragraphs. More than seeing their name in print or getting paid gobs of money (which may or may not happen!) writers write because it’s something they can’t NOT do.  They enjoy the process of discovering a new and creative way of telling a story. But passion isn't enough. Writers need skills. Which brings me to,

     A stands for the ability writers need to use all the rules learned in elementary school in order to create a coherent piece of writing.  All those boring things like correct grammar, appropriate punctuation, when to indent a paragraph, how to distinguish homonyms, choosing active vs. passive verbs, avoiding adverbs---all of these must be in a writer's toolbox. And if they're not, would-be writers can read books, take a class, or go on-line to gain instruction and acquire writing skills. 
      Although the writer's craft encompasses more than just stringing words together to form complete sentences; writers can also learn how to choose the best words, and how to use the imagery of poetic language to communicate their ideas. Which leads me to,

     I is for idea. Every article, story, poem, or play began with a seed of an idea. Half-Truths began because I observed many Caucasians and African Americans with the same surname in Charlotte, NC. The many articles I wrote about glass came out of my fascination with a material that is incredibly strong, yet fragile; as old as dirt and as modern as fiber optics. And although my book on glass was rejected by more publishers than I can count, I learned that,

     N is for never giving up. Writers must persevere in spite of critiquers recommending that a piece be re-written for the 15th time; family members mocking their work; editors or agents rejecting the manuscript; and even their own desire to-do-anything-else-in-the-world-besides-sit-in-this-chair-and-write. 

    Take an inventory of yourself:

• Are you passionate about the creative writing process?
• Do you have the ability to write or are you committed to learning and practicing?
• Do you have ideas that grab you and demand to be written about?
• Are you willing to put in the time, effort, and energy that is necessary to bring a piece to completion?

     In a recent webinar, Emma Dryden said, "Pay attention to the journey, not just your goals."
     And realize that PAIN is part of that process.