7 first Lines/Paragraphs from Books published in 2016

Seven is my favorite number and it's 2017. I pulled the picture books from the NY Times Notable Book list. The other two are my favorite reads of the year

They All Saw A Cat Written and illustrated by Brendan Wenzel (debut book)

The cat walked through the world with its whiskers, ears, and paws . . . and the child saw A CAT, and the dog saw A CAT, and the fox saw A CAT. Yes, they all saw the cat.

I AM PAN! Written and illustrated by Mordicai Gerstein

LONG AGO WHEN THE WORLD WAS JUST A BABY, A FAMILY OF GODS LOVED IN GREECE. THEY LIVED ON MOUNT OLYMPUS ABOVE CLOUDS THAT LOOKED LIKE WHIPPED CREAM. THEY WERE ALL GODS OF ONE THING OR ANOTHER . . .

THE JOURNEY Written and illustrated by Francesca Sanna (debut book?)

I live with my family in a city close to the sea. Every summer we used to spend many weekends at the beach. But we never go there anymore, because last year, our lives changed forever . . .

LEAVE ME ALONE! Written and illustrated by Vera Brosgol. 

An Epic tale about one grandmother, a giant sack of yarn and her quest to finish her knitting.

There was once an old lady who lived in a small house.

 

Teacup by Rebecca Young Illustrated by Matt Ottley  (Looks like a debut book.)

Once there was a boy who had to find his home . . . and find another.

 

Now my two favorite reads for the year.

 

 

The Seventh Wish by Kate Messner  

I’ve only seen the ice flowers once. It was winter vacation when I was six and Abby was twelve. She came flying into my bedroom in her green flannel pajamas. “Charlie, wake up! You have to come see before they are gone.

 

I read this book because I was going to be reading it to fifth graders at Leo Politi. I thought it was going to be about a wishing fish and wishes and best friends and Irish dancing. My kind of a read. Nah! It’s a chocolate chip cookie of a book that, on page 102 ,turned into a steak dinner. It’s really brilliant and I cannot recommend it highly enough. But I am so glad I did not get to page 102 with the fifth graders. I think it should be required reading for middle school.

 

 

Full Cicada Moon by Marilyn Hilton.
I wish we had flown to Vermont
instead of riding
on a bus, train, train, bus
all the way from Berkley.
Ten hours would have soared, compared to six days.
But two plane tickets--
one for me and one for Mama--
would have cost a lot of money,
and Papa already spent so much
when he flew home at Thanksgiving.

Mama is sewing buttons on my new slacks
and helping me fill out the forms
for my new school in Hillsborough, our new town.
This might be a new year
but seventh grade is halfway done,
and I'll be the new girl.

I'm stuck at the ethnicity part.
Check only one, it says.
The choices are:
White
Black
Puerto Rican
Portuguese
Hispanic
Oriental
Other

I am
half Mama,
half Papa,
and all me.
Isn't that all anyone needs to know?
But the form says All items must be completed,
so I ask,  "Other?"
Mama pushes her brows together,
making what papa calls her Toshirô-Mifune face.
"Check all that apply," she says.
"But it says just one."
"Do you listen to your mother or a piece of paper?"

I do not usually read verse novels. This one captivated me.  Written in verse the book tells the story of a half black, half Japanese girl who moved with her family to Vermont to be the new girl halfway through seventh grade. It's 1969 and she dreams of being an astronaut. 
I raced through it, loving every sentence.
The what was not said was as important as what was said. Highly recommend. 

What is your favorite book from last year? If you have a diversity one, all the better.

 

 

Dispatch #60: The Spiritual in The Writing Life

by Lupe Fernandez

The Contemplation
The contemplation of a autumnal leaf. Brown, crispy, damp. Hold it up to the sun and the dried capillaries that once pulsed solar kisses of electric fluid. I may need that detail to provide insight into a character, or merely to show off my skills.

The Why?
The why does a flying teen feels unworthy of love? Why does a jovial ten year old skeleton boy frighten the humans of his world? Why does a high school slacker post a humiliating viral video? Why does evil exist? It’s not enough to say, “The Devil Made Me Do It.” I have to know why. Causation. Motivations. Psychology. Emotional trauma. Behavioral conditioning.

The Calling
I write to tell stories. But what do I gain? Freshly printed pages. Words smell of hot toner ink. Edits scrawled in red pen. Years of rewrites. No money. No prestige. A pauper’s life. One among thousands who want to publish. Maybe I’m not good. I wasn’t born with a story in my head. I’m no literary prodigy. I thought about giving up. Of course, would I do instead? Questions ripen. My nose wrinkles at the goal like fruit left too long in a bowl.


I have colleagues who have their own stories, their own reasons for writing between the rush of children, the stomp of jobs and the heartbeat of time.

The Message
What do I want to say? I see a cumulus cloud, ringed by sun gold, dark underside, brilliant white trim, drifting across the sky. My cheeks are cold. White vapor spouts from chapped lips. I witness the Hand of God moving across the Earth.* How do I translate this sublime vision into a story?

The Comfort
When my stomach roils, when my mouth is dry, when the bottom of my stomach drops out through my feet, when I can’t nothing can be done, I sit at the computer and type. Alone. Just click, click of keystrokes to comfort me by. Nouns. Verbs. Conjunctions. Adjectives. Order out of chaos. There are rules to follow. What does the protagonist want? What obstacles confront the protagonist? What are the consequences to the protagonist if the goal isn’t achieved? How does the story end? More questions than answers. Plenty of thick and thin books to read for guidance. Schools of authors to fish for advice. Fellow acolytes to compare and contrast.

I am alone and in good company.

The Pilgrimage
Where do I go to pay homage to great writers, and not so great ones? I confess I've never visited the homes of Gabriel Marquez Garcia, Ray Bradbury or Eduardo Galeano. I did live in Los Angeles for thirty odd years. Plenty of renowned writers began their careers in that city. I currently reside in the San Francisco Bay Area, home to past, present and future authors of note.

Perhaps, my temples are books stores. Browsing the aisles, pulling a book off the shelf, thumbing through the crisp pages, smelling the paper. Or any public library. Rows upon rows of aisles, my fingers touching a rough spine, then the smooth plastic cover of the adjacent book. A musty scent. Central heating in winter. Cool air in the summer. I read author names known and unknown. Subjects popular and arcane.

The Doubt
Always.


*I also see condensed water vapor in motion due to differentials in air temperature and pressure, a confluence of cold and warm fronts influenced by the Coriolis Effect, and rejoice at the hard-earned knowledge gained by scientists of yore.

Interview with Cheryl C. Malandrinos & #giveaway

By Susan J. Berger

 Meet Cheryl Malandrinos whose book Macaroni and Cheese for Thanksgiving. Delightful, well-written story of a little girl who figures out how to save the day when the turkey meets an untimely end. I've given the Goodreads link, but if you would like to acquire it for your eReader, the 5.00 PDF is available here.
Cheryl has a lovely blog called the Children and Teen Book Connection. She's giving away a copy of the book at the end of this post.

Please tell us a little about yourself.

I’m a wife and mother of three who is also a licensed real estate agent. Our son is married, but our two girls are still at home. We also have three cats and two hamsters. In my spare time, I like to garden and cook.

I love firsts, so tell me about the moment when a publisher told you they wanted to publish your first book.

This was so exciting because I had read many books by Guardian Angel Publishing (GAP) prior to submitting Little Shepherd to them. GAP believes “we can change the world by investing in children, one child at a time.” This is a powerful mission that I wholeheartedly support. As soon as Lynda sent me the contract, I started texting, emailing, and calling everyone I knew.                             

Please tell us about Macaroni and Cheese for Thanksgiving.

Macaroni and Cheese for Thanksgiving finds Macy employing quick thinking and ingenuity to help save dinner when the dog swipes the turkey off the table.

 

What inspired you to write it?

In 2010, I participated in Picture Book Idea Month (PiBoIdMo) for the first time. This annual event challenges writers to create 30 picture book ideas in 30 days. Believe me, it’s not as easy as it sounds. This was idea number 24.

I really wanted a book that wasn’t simply about being thankful. There are plenty of kid’s books about Thanksgiving with that message. This review captured the essence of the book well, “The author has written a story about a family, much like yours or mine, perhaps, that works together when life doesn’t turn out the way they want it to. They take a situation and make the best of it… And in working together, they also discover that being with family is more important than what they eat.”

What do you want kids to get out of this book?

Be creative. Don’t be afraid to try something new. Just because something has always been done a certain way doesn’t mean you can’t do it differently.

Since we are in the Holiday season, what is your favorite Christmas/Kwanza/Hannukah Tradition?

I am a huge Christmas fanatic. If it weren’t for the cats, the tree would stay up all year long. Spending time together at Christmas has always been important to us. It’s fun to see the traditions carry on from generation to generation.

Are you working on anything else right now?

I’m gearing up to participate in PiBoIdMo this coming January (it used to be in November). My sincere hope is that I can finish the middle grade historical I’ve been working on and get it ready for submission. I also have several picture books that are looking for homes.  

 And finally, where can we find you?

My friends say I am all over the internet. Here are the best places to find me:
Website Address: http://ccmalandrinos.com/
Blog Address: https://childrensandteensbookconnection.wordpress.com/
Twitter Address: @ccmalandrinos
Facebook Address: https://www.facebook.com/Cheryl-C-Malandrinos-170542359697682/
Goodreads Address: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4341623.Cheryl_C_Malandrinos

Thank you for being here, Cheryl.

If you would like to win a copy of Macaroni and Cheese for Thanksgiving, please leave your email in a comment so I can get in touch with you. What's the most unusual dish you ate/served for Thanksgiving or Christmas?  Happy Reading and a wonderful last few days of 2016. We'll see you in 2017.

 

 

 

Twas The Night for Readers

                                                  by Susan J Berger

Merry ChrisKwanzakkuh.

I am visiting friends in Oregon till Tuesday and Bailey, their dog, showed an interest in my book. So I thought I would use him as one of the illustrations for my Christmas poem.

 Twas The Night.

                                                 

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,

Each creature was reading. Yes, even the mouse.

In a nest made of cotton that used to line pills,

he read Mouseman Saves Christmas and shivered with thrills.

 Miss Padpaws turned pages of  Elf off A Shelf 

And purred as she read it aloud to herself.

Bad Dog, on the hearth, was devouring a book.

He'd chewed up five chapters and turned them to gook.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

reading books, with the covers pulled over their heads.

Mamá was engrossed in her latest romance.

I nodded o'er Dickens and fell into trance.

Not one of us heard jingle bells on the roof.

No prancing and pawing of each tiny hoof.

Santa slid down the chimney and only Bad Dog, 

looked up and woofed softly at the man on the log.

 

"Good Bad Dog," said Santa, and opened his pack.

He pulled out a bushel of books from his sack.

Picture books, YA, some Midgrades for Simon,

Thrillers, romances and even Neil Gaiman.

Geronimo Stilton, he gave to the mouse.

A copy of Archie, he left for the louse

Miss Padpaws got Pout Pout Fish wearing a cap.

For Bad Dog, a book with a cake book on the flap.

 He filled every stocking with poems and prose.

Then ate all the cookies; brushed crumbs from his clothes.

 

On Prancer! On Dancer!"  Sleigh bells jingled bright.

"Happy Reading to All and to All a Good Night".

Dispatch #59: Who's to Blame?

by Lupe Fernandez

Bile boils my stomach. My heart beats faster than a hummingbird’s wings. I can’t catch my breath. Saliva tastes like asphalt fear.

Who’s to say what will happen next?

Who’s to say the worst is yet to come?

Well, because he thought it was good sport. Because some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned, or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.
- Michael Caine as Alfred Pennyworth, The Dark Knight

Who’s to say the best is yet to come?

Who’s to blame?

The entertainment media complex, rotten eggs, sunspots, reality shows, ratings, global warming, left handers, cable, hot vinyl, the Oscars, ants, volatile organic compounds, bottled water, super-delegates, the Spanish Inquisition, quantum physics, social media, Lyndon Johnson, salt-licks, KKK, gerunds, coconut oil, adverbs, depression, repression, suppression, German Shepherds, the glass ceiling, marble tile, agent rejection notices…

You get the idea.
 
As those slaves have died, so will your rabble... if they falter one instant in loyalty to the new order of affairs. Arrests are in progress. The prisons began to fill. In every city and province, lists of the disloyal have been compiled. Tomorrow, they will learn the cost of their terrible folly... their treason.
- Laurence Olivier as Marcus Licinius Crassus, Spartacus (1960)

Once upon a time, racial segregation was the law of the land.

Once upon a time, women didn’t have the right to vote.
Once upon a time, The Republic of Mexico owned California, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada and Texas.
Once upon a time, twelve men walked on the Moon.
Once upon a time…I don’t have any more stories, no more quips, jabs, jokes, puns or ad-libs.

The one time I thought the world was really, really going to change was in the early nineties. The dreaded Berlin Wall fell, marking the end of the USSR. We’re free, I thought. The Cold War is over. The threat of nuclear annihilation is gone. We’re free. This country, the world can devote itself to greater things.

I was wrong.

I’m naïve.

“It’s morning again in America…”
- Republican Political TV Ad, 1984 Election

Is this the day to cast blame?