Kitchen Appliances for Writers

I'm an experimental cook. Meaning I wait until the last minute because I'm caught up in some writing project and completely forget it's time to eat, and then I go in search of something to throw together. So most meals are experiments in creativity. Isn't that what writers do?

I have an old stove. 

For an old one, it's still reliable and mostly accurate. I use it to cook eggs for breakfast, store pots and pans (lots of storage in this thing), and occasionally cook pasta. Sometimes I'll stir fry. Every now and again, I'll roast potatoes or veggies in the oven. I cook most of my meat and many of my veggies on the gas grill outside. No cleanup. Just turn up the gas and turn on a timer. I have forgotten the time before and end up with no gas.

Recently I have added a couple of appliances that make my life so much easier. Bear with me. I know it's Poetry Friday and there is a poem coming.

This is my Ninja!

It is the most amazing blender ever invented. The motor sits on top. Absolutely no mess, no dials, just a punch button to make it go. The blades are super sharp, so be careful. Perfect for a smoothy snack. Or a smoothy lunch if that meal snuck up on you. The smaller bowl is additional, with it's own blades for chopping things.

My most recent addition is the cool rice cooker. I'd heard of rice cookers before. My daughter has one, but as I don't cook much rice, I never really thought much about one. A few weeks ago, my nephew, the one who keeps me organized and dressed fashionably, took me shopping. "You need a rice cooker," he said. So, we bought a rice cooker. I love it. I've looked at a couple of other since I bought this one, and I like mine the best of any I've seen. Rice cooks in the bottom while anything from fish to green beans or both, steams in the basket above it. Fantabulous! Now I can put dinner on before I sit down and start that project. I doesn't overcook or burn if I forget it. And I always have leftover rice for rice pudding. It's good for  breakfast. I throw the rice pudding together and let it cook while eating dinner. Cool it, stick it in the fridge, and pull it out for breakfast. East cold or reheat in the microwave. (That other appliance I'd find it hard to live without.)

So there you have it, my commercial on this Poetry Friday.

Now poetry. Rice Pudding poetry, of course.


Rice Pudding

by A.A. Milne

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She’s crying with all her might and main,
And she won’t eat her dinner—rice pudding again—
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
I’ve promised her dolls and a daisy-chain,
And a book about animals—all in vain—
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She’s perfectly well, and she hasn’t a pain;
But, look at her, now she’s beginning again!
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
I’ve promised her sweets and a ride in the train,
And I’ve begged her to stop for a bit and explain—
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She’s perfectly well, and she hasn’t a pain,
And it’s lovely rice pudding for dinner again!—
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

Tabatha Yeats hosts more Poetry Friday at The Opposite of Indifference. 

Never tried rice pudding? Here's a quick, easy recipe. I cut the sugar by half because I don't like it so sweet. I have used honey before, too. And my rice is usually not short grain. The long grain works just fine.

Spring Break Beach Reads

Wide swaths of beach four inches deep in shells.

Morning walk at low tide.

I'm finally getting to this book. Did you know that you can now  "borrow" books free at Amazon Prime?

This was a free ebook download back before Christmas. A good book for analyzing a few recent reads and thinking about a new story idea. 

Audio book  for the drive down. Will finish on the way home.  

Hubby brought this one in hardcover. I may delve into it when he's done. 

And I'm playing in the March Madness Poetry Tournament. Round One has started. I'll get my first word (seed #2) tonight. Voting for Round One begins tomorrow. 

Never Ignore the Muse

I'm three weeks into my writing class that began the end of January--40 Days and 40 Nights: Deepening our Practice. It turns out that four assignments a week, in my week at least, has been a challenge. Last week, I had my piece figured out in my head, but I procrastinated getting it on paper, got wrapped up in email and dinner plans, and decided I needed sleep more than I needed to write. The next day my mental plan had vanished.

It's not a good thing to ignore the urge to write, that moment when the idea is clear, even if the words aren't. Never let something as urgent as sleep crowd it out. Never put it off until the dinner is cooked or the kids are in bed or the invoice is posted. At least jot down some fragments that can later be formed into rational thought.

Because if you don't, something else intrudes, the next task is imminent, the demands of the day are right there in your face, and they have to be done. The moment is lost. Sometimes you can't even remember the idea. It dissipates into the air like steam rising from a boiling pan of spaghetti. Then getting words on paper is impossible. The impetus is gone, the momentum lost, the spark that drives the pen flickers out.

You try again the next day, but you can't remember the feeling that came the moment you looked out the kitchen door and saw the blue heron standing on the rock. You can't remember the color of the sky or the strange combination of smells that assaulted your nose when the door opened.

And there's still the assignment that must be done, still a commitment requiring words on a page, the longing for a tone of voice that only thoughtful words will capture. The process demands time and discipline. Time to think, to re-see, to craft words and sentences and paragraphs that one day you hope someone other than your husband or your mother will read. Words that a reader somewhere will think about, identify with, perhaps even change for. Powerful words that speak to a desire, a longing, deeper than the paragraphs on the page.

But it starts with the urge to write, and the posterior in the chair, and pen to pad or fingers to keys.

Where January Went

It feels like it ought to be March. January seemed to last forever and the tulip trees are blooming already. It's a good thing I didn't make any New Years resolutions. They wouldn't have lasted. So, here I am trying to catch up again.

My hubby and I left for Oregon on New Year's Day. We spent a lovely week with my daughter and son-in-law in Eugene and Portland.

Hubby and Son-in-Law at the Oregon U track. Yes, we were there when the Ducks won the football game.

Sculpture on the architecture building when Son-in-Law is a student.

We had a lovely dinner at a winery in the Oregon countryside.

A lesson in architecture at the Oregon U art museum.

I left Oregon on Friday and flew to San Antonio for my Delaney sales conference and spent several days with my grands before moving to the hotel for three days of publisher presentations.

Now aren't those babies beautiful?

The kids came to the Riverwalk one night after the conference. We had ice cream and then hung out at the Rainforest Cafe.

And there's number five. Such a sweetie.

By the time I got home, around midnight on January 11, I was on the verge of one of the worst colds I've had in a very long time--head, chest, nose, the whole works. I spent about 5 days in bed or sitting in front of the TV wrapped in blankets and another week trying to function. In other words I did only the absolute minimum, then came home and slept again. I watched three full seasons of Burn Notice. I've always liked spy stories, never tried to write one though. I decided Burn Notice is a bit like Scarecrow and Mrs. King on steroids. Went through a full round of antibiotics, two boxes of Mucinex, and who knows how many gallons of chicken soup. Like I said, it was a long month. Finally this last week I'm feeling mostly human, although the cough is still not completely gone.

This last week I signed up for a class at writers.com, called 40 Days and 40 Nights. It's taught by Laurie Wagner. Here's the blurb that sold me:

     After 10 weeks and 40 assignments you will see a difference in your work.

     You will: feel more comfortable writing; find a looseness in your voice; take more chances, more risks;        develop a relationship with writing that is comfortable and familiar. You might even get to know the sound of your own voice.

 That's what I would like to find in these next weeks, and it's probably one of the reasons I didn't make any resolutions. I knew I'd lost touch with something in my writing life and I didn't want to just mask the need with new goals. Instead I want to recharge, rediscover my relationship with this thing we call a writing life. I'll keep you posted.

Promoting Your Writing By Speaking

I've been trying to find my rhythm, balancing all the the balls in the air, as school and my business commitments kick in. Keeping up my exercise routine is vital in this season of driving and sitting. During my walking time recently, I've listened to a series of teleseminars, called "Promoting Your Writing By Speaking."

Randy Ingermanson hosted the teleseminar interviews with Mary Byers in an informative question and answer format. Mary has been a professional speaker for over twenty years. She is also an author. One of her books resulted from an editor who heard her speak and offered her a contract to write a book on the topic. Mary makes as much in three speaking engagements as she does writing a book. Her perspective on splitting her time between writing and speaking is valuable for writers who spend a lot of time in school visits.

Although Mary is not a children's author and her speaking engagements are not centered around author visits to schools, her advice for building your speaking business is rock solid.

Session one gives information on developing topics and identifying your audience. In session two, Mary talks about setting fees. Session three gives tips on preparing for your speaking engagement. The final session covers ways to grow your speaking business.

All four sessions are available on Randy's Advanced Fiction Writing website.

Two Voices in a Meadow

It's Poetry Friday. I love searching through my favorite poems for gems to share here. As I browsed through my copy of Richard Wilbur, I came across this poem that captures the two emotional extremes that we can so easily drift toward as writers. I don't know what Wilbur was thinking about as he wrote it, but it struck me today as a perfect picture of the struggle we face learning to keep a balanced perspective of ourselves.

"Two Voices in a Meadow"

by Richard Wilbur

A Milkweed

Anonymous as cherub

Over the crib of God,

White seeds are floating

Out of my bust pod.

What power had I

Before I learned to yield?

Shatter me, great wind:

I shall possess the field.

A Stone

As casual as cow-dung

Under the crib of God,

I lie where chance would have me,

Up to the ears in sod.

Why should I move? To move

Befits a light desire.

The sill of Heaven would founder,

Did such as I aspire.

Wishing you milkweed dreams and rock solid goals this week.

Poetry Friday roundup is hosted by Heidi at My Juicy Little Universe.

Readers Theatre Project

I've missed a few Monday posts. I hurt my shoulder and have been babying it. In the meantime I've worked on three more readers theatre scripts for my book on explorers. My wonderful critique group has helped me find the balance between information overload and story.

The research required for one of these things is prodigious. I end up with facts in my head, notebook, computer, on paper scraps and napkins, the back of envelopes, sticky notes, etc. Then do I organize all those notes? Not really. Usually I am much more organized, but because there are so many of these little scripts to write, I have approached this project a little differently. I accumulate all these facts and then let my brain sort for story, conflict, and humor.

My first draft is almost always too fact heavy, so I look again for the heart of the script. What is the teaching point? How can these characters I've pulled together interact, react to each other, with enough conflict and humor to make a middle grade reader willing to recreate this tiny piece of history? There's the challenge that keeps a writer plugging away on a project.

If you haven't used readers theatre in your classroom or library before, check out the variety of topics and grade levels published by Libraries Unlimited. There's something here for everyone. And next year, mine will be on the list.

Teaching Kids to Write (In Memory of Doreen)

I love teaching creative writing classes. It's always an eye opening experience to see what kids will come up with. Some funny, some heart wrenching, but always unique.

I've been reading two books on writing written for kids. Neither of them is new, but they found their way into my reading stack for different reasons. The first is What's Your Story: A Young Person's Guide to Writing Fiction by Marion Dane Bauer. I attended a conference this summer where Marion was one of the featured speakers. I thoroughly enjoyed her approach to the workshop and wanted to see how she passed on her wonderful body of writing knowledge to young writers.

In the introduction, Marion tells readers that "our stories put us in charge. They allow us to explore our feelings without having to face the consequences of acting them out." It's a good observation and a great way to start the storytelling journey. Marion's writing on writing is vivid. She is a master at capturing the intensity of the present moment, in her own stories and helping young writers tell theirs. A great resource.

The other book is Live Writing: Breathing Life into Your Words by Ralph Fletcher. Doreen Sears introduced me to Fletcher. "He's the guru of writing these days," she told me."You need to know him." So I went in search of his work and found I liked it a great deal. He has several lovely volumes of poetry and many novels, too. His clear thinking and practical examples bring life to his book for young writers.

Doreen Sears was a dearly-loved, K-12 reading specialist for Muscogee County. She died on Friday after a long battle with cancer. Her kindness and her smile will be sorely missed. So my book suggestions today are in memory of this gentle lady who loved reading and writing and helping students discover the power of words.

Third Graders Ask the Best Questions!

I visited with the third graders at Blanchard Elementary School today. They were a great audience and had some excellent questions about writing and books. I was so excited to hear how much they enjoyed the Georgia habitat books. It's really a wonderful feeling when your audience loves to read what you wrote!

Our topic for today was the hats a writer wears. You don't start out wearing the author hat. You start with the investigator hat, the one that leads to an idea and the information relating to it. Then you move on to the writer hat and work, work, work! After that comes the editor's hat. Read it out loud. Revise. Get it right.

It would be nice if writing proceeded in a nice straight line like that, but it generally doesn't. So we talked about moving back and forth between the hats, finding the right amount of information, the best way of presenting it, and filling in the holes.

Tricks of the trade: I had asked the students to bring a piece of their writing with them. I gave everyone a piece of tracing paper to place over their writing. Then we placed a pencil on the beginning capital word and drew a straight line to the period, continuing until each sentence was lined through. When you lift the tracing paper, you can see the length of your sentences. The trick is to realize how long your sentences are and make sure that you vary their length. A long one, a short one, a couple of medium length, another short one. Variety is the spice of life, and it goes a long way towards improving a composition.

After signing a few books (and a few arms!), I said goodbye. Abby, my sweet guide, walked me back to the office and sent me on my way. It was a good day.

Another One!

The same day I got the phone call about my readers theater manuscript, I sent another proposal to another publisher. Three days later, that editor e-mailed me to say she liked it and wanted to see the complete manuscript. So now to finish writing that one! I told her I'd get it to her in 30 days. It's a book of devotions on praise for ages 8-12. It's going to be a busy month.

Phone Call From an Editor!

I almost didn't answer it.

It's been a long week checking off the completed or half-completed items on my monster to-do list. Washing clothes, finishing a proposal (sent it off this morning), scheduling appointments for the new school year, plowing my way through homework for an upcoming writer's workshop. So mid afternoon, I lay/laid (always have to look that up) down on the couch. I had just slipped into a peaceful doze when my cell phone rang. It wasn't by the sofa. It was out in the office. Did I really want to get up and race out there? I hesitated and then pulled myself out of the comfy spot I'd made between all the pillows and ran after it.

Good thing! It was an editor at a house I sent a proposal to less than a month ago. I wasn't thinking about hearing anything from her for at least 3-6 months. She wanted the files in a Word format so that she could present it to her team in a couple of weeks!

I have a drawer full of rejection notices. I steel myself not to be surprised when I open the self-addressed stamped envelope and find some version of thanks, but no thanks. I did get one last week that said, "Cute, but not what we seek. Good luck elsewhere." If you're a writer, you know that's worth a small celebration!

But a phone call is BIG! And her comment was "It's a good proposal." Yippee!!

Now I just cross my fingers and wait.

And if they say yes, then I have to actually write the rest of the book!

In the Middle

I'm still reading through Nancy Kress' book, Beginnings, Middles, and Ends. This explanation of the middle is such a clear picture. The act of typing it out verbatim helps plant it firmly in my brain. And hopefully, it will inspire you to think about what's in your middle.

"The middle of a story develops the story's implicit promise by dramatizing incidents that increase conflict, reveal character, and put in place all the various forces that will collide at the story's climax. In other words, the middle is a bridge--sometimes a long, winding bridge, sometimes a short, direct one. At one end of the bridge, the story's beginning introduces characters, conflict and (sometimes) symbols. Then in the middle, these same characters, conflicts, and (sometimes) symbols move across the bridge, grouping themselves as they go into alliances and oppositions. Some people change during their journey across the bridge; some don't. Conflicts deepen. People become more emotional. The stakes may rise. By the time the characters reach the other end of the bridge, the forces determining their behavior are clear. At the far end of the bridge, these same forces will collide (the story's climax).

Unity in fiction depends on keeping everybody on the bridge. The forces developed in the middle must emerge naturally out of the characters and situation introduced at the beginning. In turn, the ending must make use of those same forces and conflicts, with nothing important left out and nothing new suddenly appearing at the last minute."

A great picture, isn't it? With lots of food for thought.

In the Works

I met with my editor from State Standards Publishing on Monday. She gave me my copies of the two new sets of books that just rolled off the press. It's an amazing feeling to see my name on all those books. It was a lot of work and two sets at one time was a big bite!

She also commissioned me to write another third grade book, just one book, on ancient Greek influences on American democracy. I spent yesterday afternoon in the library collecting research. Manuscript is due by the end of June for publication in November 2009.

I'm meeting with my fabulous critique group this weekend. My submission is a book proposal for Readers Theatre on Global Explorers.

I'm researching publishers for a book I'm working on with a friend. She is a counselor and has spent time during the last three years using art therapy with children of the Rawandan genocide. I'm really excited about working on this project with her. You can read about her work here.

I'm off to do homework in preparation for the PCCWW in August. Check back later for the next installment of what I'm learning.

Once Upon a Time

Once Upon a Time is a wonderful little magazine for children's authors. I had an article published in the Spring 2009 issue. Editor Audrey Baird is looking for submissions, so if you have wisdom or encouragement to offer other writers, send her your work.

I originally began this blog for my children who are scattered across the country. I wanted to keep them up to date on the remodeling project next door that my husband and I took on. The article published in Once Upon a Time resulted from watching the process. Here's my article and some pictures to add a little interest.

Remodel, Revise, Reinvent
by Doraine Bennett



My husband and I recently bought the house next door to us. The shallow-roofed, fifties style house sagged like a worn out volume of Good Old Archibald that no one had picked up for years. It might have been a good idea in the fifties, but today, it looked like a really bad first draft.



We began remodeling with the idea that we would remain within the original footprint of the house. Structural damage forced us to boost the foundation with helical piers. We tore off the roof and added a second story. We rearranged the interior walls to make fewer, but larger, rooms.

One day our Hispanic brick mason pointed to the exterior brick wall. “No good,” he said shaking his head. The bricks were not tied to the house structure. The whole wall could collapse at any moment.

I have a few first drafts, stuck away in drawers or buried in computer folders, with as many structural problems as the house next door.

Sometimes, I get stuck in the footprint of the original draft, not realizing if I just pulled the roof off or moved the bricks, I could expand my story, find room for ideas that I hadn’t considered, or add a new dimension with subplots, stronger characters, and deeper themes.

It doesn’t necessarily mean throwing out the whole thing, just looking at it with new eyes, finding what is of value, and not being afraid to tear down a few walls or words.


We named our revised house next door “The Resting Place.” One day, when the work is done, it will be a place of solace for friends and family who need to be refreshed and reminded that joy can be found in difficult places.

I would like for my stories to do that, too. Refresh a reader. Offer a small reminder of peace. A glimmer of hope.






Revision is challenging. We tend to see what is there instead of what could be there. But when the finished product brings joy, the time and effort is well spent.

Gems from Kathleen Duey

Southern Breeze Springmingle Notes

Bits of wisdom from a delightful author:

Unless the coffee table is important, don't describe it.

If you have a digital recorder, take it with you to the garden, the gym, for a walk. You can collaborate with yourself later, complete with excitement in the voice.

When doing research, find professors on the internet. E-mail them and ask for books they would recommend on your subject. The two or three books that overlap from professors are the best research in the field. Read them and you've saved yourself hours of time.

Experiment when you start a new work. Try first person, third person, present tense, change the age of your protagonist. A significant investment in exploration will provide depth and understanding of your characters before you start writing.

Pass on everything you know about life to people who don't know it yet.

Woohoo!

I mentioned a few weeks back that I am participating in Nancy Sander's Book in a Month Club posts. The goal is to TRY to land a contract for a book by targeting publisher needs rather than trying to find a home for our own finished work. So I have been sending out queries for books that I haven't even written yet! It's a bit frightening, but loads of fun.

I got my first response yesterday. So now I have to become an automatic expert in a field that I expressed interest in and write a proposal!

Drop by Nancy's blog and you'll learn a lot about changing your frame of reference for approaching publishers.

Book Proposals - Land A Contract

One of my favorite blogs is by Nancy I. Sanders. Every March she does a book in a month workshop on the blog. Last year, we wrote a picture book in a month. This month the goal is to write a book proposal and try to land a contract in a month. Of course the landing part could take much longer, but figuring out the journey and sending in the proposals is do-able!

Come over to Nancy's blog and join the fun.

http://nancyisanders.wordpress.com/

Maybe we'll all land a contract!

Conference Survival

I grew up hugging the walls, fading into the woodwork, blending with any flowers I could find. As a teenager, I tentatively began trying out my voice. As a young mother, I found that I had a lot of things to say, but didn't often say them. As an adult, I began to deal with the issues that nailed me to the walls and found that freedom of speech is a marvelous thing!

That said, put me in a room with 200 mostly strangers from morning to night for a weekend and I'm still an introvert at heart. I'm pretty good at spotting others in my species and often will strike up a conversation with them.

The problem is that the weekend is an important time for meeting people, making friends, finding comrades for a journey into story that is often solitary. So halfway through Saturday when I'm too tired to press beyond the default button and I'm generally asking myself--Why did I decide to do this?--I have to remember who I am. I have to give myself permission to steal away for a quiet moment to regroup. I have to remember that it's not how many people I meet, it's recognizing where the genuine connections occur in those random interactions. And then when I get home, making time to weave that tenuous thread of acquaintance into a stronger cord of friendship.

The Things We Forget

The last manuscript I completed for State Standards Publishing was in the third grade set on Georgia habitats. At the last minute we separated the large coastal plain and added a book on the Upper Coastal Plain area. So I had just written about the long-leaf pines and the wire grass when I had reason to head over in that direction for my aunt's funeral. She lived well, loved much, and had a good funeral (if such a thing exists). I spent some happy moments as a girl building cities in the sand of my grandaddy's driveway, reading a book by the pond while my parents and brother fished (I wasn't much for worms in those days), and pushing the wide porch swing as high as I could get it to go.

One of the defining factors of this area of Georgia is the soft, sandy, soil. You can stand in what looks like solid ground and sink to the tops of your shoes.

I rode with my brother and his wife in the back seat of his car past towns like Junction City, Tarversville, Danville, and Allentown, all the way to Swainsboro. When I went there as a kid, our car slowed down to pass through all these little towns on the coastal plain. Now we just bypass most of them and I wonder who lives there and what they do and where they got their names.

When we got to Swainsboro, I climbed out of the back of the little red car. My feet tangled in the seat belt and I plunged forward onto the sandy soil. I had forgotten about the sand spurs. Memories of running barefoot across the yard rushed back to my conscious mind. Balancing on tiptoes until someone came to pick me up and carry me back to the porch and pick the wicked little burrs out of my feet.

My brother came to my rescue. Apparently he had forgotten about the sand spurs, too. He tried to brush the sand off my coat and they attacked his hands.

I was still picking sand spurs out of my coat when I got home. One stuck fast in the fur collar had to be cut out. My mother and dad made sure I didn't leave any on my shoes or feet to be carried back to the harder ground of the fall line. Apparently one little seed will grow a whole field of the things. Make sure they land in the garbage can!

Recovering a child-like mind

As writers for children, it is essential to find that corner of our own mind that still thinks like a child. The problem is that our adult minds tend to send those thoughts to stand in the corner facing the wall. We can easily miss the wonder that accompanies our random childlike musings.

Yesterday I sat in my special thinking quiet thoughts chair with a good book and a cup of hot tea. I automatically jerked my hand away when I tipped the cup and splashed hot Earl Grey on my fingers. Ow!

I wiped my fingers, readjusted my grip, and sipped the steaming cup. My eyes went back to the book, but my mind wandered to the corner where that little kid was observing everything in her scope. And there, a question was brewing.

Why is the tea too hot for my fingers, but doesn't burn my tongue?

Now my adult mind needs an answer.

What burning questions have you stumbled upon lately?