How My 2020 Word of the Year Changed Me Forever

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Howdy, Campers and Happy Poetry Friday! My poem and the link to today's Poetry Friday's host is below.

The question TeachingAuthors have been batting around this round is, What did I learn in 2020 that will help me in 2021?

Esther, as always, rallies us with gusto offering one tiny prefix to see things anew; Bobbi walks beside us talking honestly about this crazy road we're all on; Mary Ann takes inspiration from a book that's part practical advice, part surprising memoir of a holocaust survivor, and Carmela shows how she is training her brain to be indistractable, offering solid tips and a wonderful found poem to go with it.

This morning I was thinking about how the first word I’ve ever chosen for a full year, CAPABLE, changed me in a year that has changed me. 

In 2020 I learned that I am capable of creating a 3-hour online class on writing poetry for children (next class scheduled for July 17, 2021). I am capable of learning how to comb my hair backwards on Zoom, I am capable of learning how White-centered my thinking and teaching are and discovering how to change this, and I am capable of developing a Zoom-friendly wardrobe (red is my best color on Zoom). To my surprise, I am capable of embracing teaching online. (I sometimes feel closer to people online than people in real life...I think of all my Zoom friends, family and students as my Flat Stanleys.)

photo from The Flat Stanley Project

I am capable of running again (yay!), taking care of two hatchling tortoises and not killing them (we named them Meredith and Derek...can you guess what we watched from March through December?), capable of finding a most excellent dog-friendly cat, and capable of dusting off my picture book manuscript and working on it for 10 minutes a day.

I am capable of ordering stuff online I never thought I'd be ordering online, doing without a lot of stuff I don't need, enjoying online yoga classes to buoy my spirits, exploring weird neighborhoods in Los Angeles with my dog and/or my husband.

I am capable of embracing the chaos, embracing the unknown, allowing myself to collapse into a puddle of tears, redefining who I am, being filled with hope again. I am capable of  learning to understand racism differently.  Basically, I am capable of persisting.

So thank you, 2020. You and my word of the year have changed me. I am more willing to look up a video on how to fix something, read the directions more than once, or simply not be angry at myself if I can’t figure out how to do it the first time around. Rather than try once, give up, and ask someone else, someone smarter and more capable than me to do it, I may set aside more time to figure something out, or pat myself on the back and say, April, you’re Capable. You can do this. 

Thanks to you both, I tried longer and I beat myself up less.

I'll tell you the word I've chosen for 2021. But first, I'd like to bid a formal adieu:

ACCOLADE (draft)

by April Halprin Wayland


Good morrow, Noble Knight.

Please ~ rest your sword by the door;

come hither.



I have called you here at sunrise

to honor your heroic year of service

in a most trying time.



Your work has taught our people

how to be safe, develop grit,

and—as your name suggests—become capable.



Because of your exemplary service

to the palace, to the castle town, and to the world at large,

this kingdom hereby confers upon you



the highest order of knighthood in the field of language:

the First Ever Word of the Year

or FEWY.



Please kneel.



Retire now in leisure

and know that your steadfastness and pluck

has changed us forever.

poem(c)2021 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved.
...................................................................................................

My word for 2021 is FOCUSED, a concept Carmela's post covered beautifully. I can't wait to see where it takes me.

Do you have a word for this day, this week, month or year?  So many of you do--please share them!

Be sure to check out this week's Poetry Friday deliciousness at Jone's!

posted by April Halprin Wayland with love from a house full of animals

Here's our brand-new very dog-friendly kitty, Gato: 

Happy ANEW Year! – Courtesy of the Prefix “re”

YAY! and finally: our New Year is here!

2020 no longer banners our calendars.

This year’s start, though, is different from all others.

Since my one-year-ago post sharing my Rx for 20/20 vision, 

my eyesight required emergency refraction.

I count my blessings daily, if not hourly, that COVID-19 

literally infected neither me nor my family, at least up until 

this moment, and that friends and colleagues who experienced 

otherwise survived without serious after-effects.

I remain forever grateful my losses to date remain few.

My heart holds a place for those unable to say the same.

Still, figuratively? If I was to KEEP keepin’ on, in body, 

in spirit, and especially in my life’s work – teaching, coaching

and writing, the corona virus forced me to see my world – 

everything and everyone - anew. 

When it came to looking, back no longer did the job.

          re-

          prefix

      Definition of re

      1: again: anew retell

      2: back: backward recall

This past year,

whenever Stuff demanded figuring out, so some part of my life – 

i.e. the story I was living, would work as needed, my M.O. became:

•re-examine who and what was important, adjusting my camera lens 

 to better focus,

•re-assess obstacles and available resources,

•re-consider options, NO MATTER HOW SCARY, 

•re-imagine desired outcomes,

•then begin anew with mustered courage.

Were some days better than others, some efforts unsuccessful? 

You bet!

Was I able to get every single aspect of my life working? NO!

But there was always tomorrow, a new day waiting.

The prefix “re” ensured I kept keepin’ on.

                                                      (Used with permission from Karen Ritz)

Recently, Karen Ritz’s beautiful illustration above of Mary McCarthy’s

oh, so true words prompted me to revisit 2020’s happenings.

And, lo and behold! As I saw the year anew, I saw me anew, too!

Like any Heroine who proves different for her Journey, I, too, proved 

different for the story I’d been living.

For one thing, I realized my ability to endure, despite whatever.

“I’m still here,” as Elaine Stritch famously sung.  

For another, I now know I’m able to face down my fears, especially 

those technological in nature.

And like any Heroine, I, too, returned home with something better than 

first sought. I began 2021 with buckets of proven courage.

                                                (Used with permission from Karen Ritz)

The Good and the Bad, the Ups and the Downs, the CrazyCrazy 

challenges – all contributed to a newer, braver me.

Now, whenever Stuff needs figuring out, so some aspect of the story 

I’m writing works as needs be, I’m rarin’ to go.

And that includes the 8th iteration of my current picture book 

biography!

I just rinse and repeat my 2020 Covid-19 M.O. 

I found the perfect prefix to adjust my vision, 

to adjust my verbs from focus to imagine.

I found daring and boldness, no matter the unknown, so my Reader, 

too, can be different for her Journey.

Thanks to Sylvia at Poetry for Children for hosting today’s Poetry 

Friday.

Here’s to your stories - both those you are living and those you are 

writing – and finding, however challenging, at least one Silver Lining!

Happy ANEW Year!

Esther Hershenhorn

P.S.

Welcome, welcome to our ANEWEST Teaching Author – Zeena Pliska!

You can read more about her here.  

WHAT IN THE HECK CAN ONE PERSON DO?

 Howdy, Campers, and Happy Poetry Friday! (my poem and a link to PF is at the end)

Our topic this round? A Favorite Book, Poem, or Quote.  Gwendolyn started us by recommending the book, I SEE YOU-I SEE MYSELF; Carmela followed with 3 Favorite Books + an Inspiring Song; Bobbi came next with a wonderful quote from Emma Dryden and more; Esther cheers us on with Three 2020 Favorite Books to Keep Us Keepin' On; now it's my turn.

I love quotations. Like so many of us, I collect them. And when I teach onsite, every week I paste quotes on walls and windows of my classroom which reflect that week's topic. I have lots of favorite political quotes, too. But one in particular has kept me afloat all year. It's been in my files and by my side in the past, but this year I wrote it on our bathroom wall (which is a whiteboard). 

Today I wrote to a dear friend: You sent 160 Vote Forwards?!?!! Wowee, Rooti, way to go!

I just taught class #9 of 10. It's been like a long walk through the Valley of Death, this business of  learning how to teach on Zoom, but now I feel I'm on the other side of the valley...

There was a day in early summer that I broke down from the craziness of technology, screwed-up passwords, fears of Covid, isolation, mising my son, our "toddler-in-chief" etc. I wailed like a banshee. Gary said in the 40 years we've been together he's never seen me that dark. 

But now my class is almost over and it's been rewarding in so many surprising ways. And there's hope on the political horizon thanks in part to you, Rooti.

And one quote has helped me walk through it all:

The following is what I call a Golden Quote poem. Modeled after Golden Shovel poems, the last word of each line forms a quote.

ONE BIRD
by April Halprin Wayland

Once there was one

bird. Such a lonely little bird. No person,

no fellow sparrow, no tin can

to roll around rocks. Only

a wee plant, its round leaves shining, as leaves do.

That bitter winter, those round leaves wilted. So

Little Bird wrapped her wings around the plant. Did it help? It helped so much.

poem and drawings © 2020 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved

One person can only do so much.

One person (or bird) can only do so much.

What's your favorite quote?

Thank you, Mary Lee for hosting PF at A Year of Reading!

posted with a deep breath of gratitude for you,dear readers, and for my students this quarter who are very forgiving by April Halprin Wayland, with help from her trusty hiking partner, Eli-the-old-but-hanging-in-there-dog.

Today's hike tired Eli out.

3 Favorite Books I Read this Year, Plus an Inspiring Song

Happy Poetry Friday! Today, instead of a poem, at the end of this post I'm sharing some song lyrics I've found especially inspiring during this challenging year. But first, I want to continue our end-of-the year series about a favorite book, poem, or quote we read in 2020.

Last week, Gwendolyn discussed as her favorite book, I See You, I See Myself: The Young Life of Jacob Lawrence, written by Deba Foxley Leach. (I've already added the title to my to-read list.) Unlike Gwen, I couldn't limit my favorites to just one title. I'm sharing three! The first two books are titles picked by the Not for Kids Only Book Club I'm a member of.

1. Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds (Atheneum/Caitlyn Dlouhy Books). 

This book has won numerous awards, including a Newbery Honor, a Printz Honor, a Coretta Scott King Honor, and the Edgar Award Prize for Best Young Adult Fiction. Not only is Long Way Down a beautifully written novel in verse, this powerful book also deals with important issues that are especially relevant today.

2. Echo Mountain by Lauren Wolk (Dutton Books for Young Readers).

This novel, set in Depression-era Maine, is a 2020 title featured on Anderson's Bookshops Mock Newbery list. Despite the historical setting, this story about coping with unemployment and hardship is also relevant these days. The writing is quite lyrical, so I wasn't surprised to learn Lauren Wolk is a poet as well as a novelist. 

3. What Is Poetry? The Essential Guide to Reading and Writing Poems by Michael Rosen (Candlewick Books). 

This engaging nonfiction book was first published in the U.K. in 2016, but wasn't released here in the U.S. until 2019 and I just discovered it recently. I'm still working my way through this one because I'm savoring and learning from each section. Michael Rosen includes many great tidbits in this book, such as the following:

"Poems are a midway point between poets and readers. The poet pours in one set of meanings. The reader picks up a poem and puts in another set of meanings, and the two meet somewhere in the middle. That's what reading a poem is all about. It's a conversation between two sets of thoughts: the poet's and the reader's."

In researching Rosen's book, I was surprised to learn the author contracted COVID-19 earlier this year and was hospitalized for three months. He talks a bit about his experience and ongoing health issues at the beginning of this video. I hope he eventually makes a complete recovery.   

Finally, as promised, I'd like to share some song lyrics that have inspired and encouraged me during these difficult times. They're written by Carrie Newcomer, a performer I discovered when someone shared this song with me earlier this year:

Excerpt from lyrics of "You Can Do This Hard Thing"

by Carrie Newcomer

 

Here we stand breathless  

And pressed in hard times.

Hearts hung like laundry

On backyard clothes lines.

Impossible just takes

A little more time.

 

From the muddy ground

Comes a green volunteer.

In a place we thought barren

New life appears.

Morning will come whistling

Some comforting tune,

For you.

 

You can do this hard thing. 

You can do this hard thing.

Its not easy I know, 

But I believe that its so.

You can do this hard thing. 

 

©2016 Carrie Newcomer  

It's hard to believe Newcomer released this song in 2016. "You Can Do This Hard Thing" feels like it could be an anthem for 2020. 

 

You can read the song's complete lyrics on this page of her website by clicking the cover of the album, The Beautiful Not Yet. And you can hear her perform the song below or on YouTube here.

 

Don't forget to check out this week's Poetry Friday round up at Susan Bruck's Soul Blossom Living.

 

 

Posted by Carmela Martino

Wednesday Writing Workout: The Little We Need for Happiness

I’m happy to report that yet one more unexpected Kodak Moment came my way this month, thanks to COVID-19: that of two long-ago high school friends who’d unintentionally socially distanced before it was in vogue, reconnecting gloriously via ZOOM’s technology.
And you, our Readers, get to reap the rewards.
My BFF from the 60’s – Jane Anne Staw, who will always be “Janie” to me - is a TeachingAuthor, too.

Jane has taught at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, Stanford University and for over 20 years at The
University of California at Berkeley Extension, where she was named an Honored Instructor. Most recently, she’s taught for 12 years in the MFA Program in Writing at the University of San Francisco. She’s been a Bay Area Writing Coach for the past 15 years.

Did she and I know, all those years ago, when we worked on Lower Merion High School’s newspaper, the Merionite, or maybe even the school year book, The Enchiridion, that writing, teaching and writers would fill our days and hearts one day?
I cannot say.
But I do so love that we’re both Teaching Authors.

For sure, there were those few photo album moments as the years tumbled by, many captured photographically by Jane.  Shared First Mom experiences when we amazingly discovered each other in neighboring Chicago ‘burbs. Catch-up phone chats once thousands of miles separated us.  Treasured conversations at milestone years-apart high school reunions. Celebrations of each other’s publishing successes.

But no matter. Once Jane clicked on my Zoom invitation and she appeared on my laptop’s screen, we picked up right where we’d left off the last time we’d spoken… and we didn’t miss a beat.
Jane’s latest book is SMALL: The Little We Need for Happiness (Shanti Arts, 2017).
Once I hit “leave meeting,” I visited her blog based on SMALL, immediately subscribed and knew that her current posts were the stuff of a TeachingAuthors Wednesday Writing Workout.

For so many of us, again thanks to COVID-19, engaging our children and/or grandchildren in the learning process has become a part of our days, nights, and often, weekends.
Jane’s July 1 post on her Writing Workshop interactions with her two precious granddaughters both inform and inspire.

Thank you, Janie, for granting me permission to reprint your post as today's Wednesday Writing Workout!

Readers, Enjoy!

And let's keep looking for those – small - Unexpected Kodak Moments.

Esther Hershenhorn
p.s.
I highly recommend Jane’s UNSTUCK (St. Martin’s Griffin) in case any of you are facing Writer’s Block.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY FOR SMALL

I began holding “Writing Workshops” with my granddaughters as soon as the Shelter-In-Place orders hit, and have continued this summer, though modified and less frequently. Last Wednesday, for example, we collaborated on writing a “graphic story” on the sidewalk in front of their house, each one of us successively adding a sentence to the plot, as well as drawing a chalk illustration for our sentences. The plot, as far as we got, went something like this: Two sisters were stuck inside the house. They didn’t like being stuck inside. But it was raining so they couldn’t go outside. They were bored. They had nothing they wanted to do inside the house. They were tired of all their puzzles and games.

In addition to the illustrations under each sentence, we created a border for every sidewalk square, framing each segment of the story and its illustration in colorful configurations of lines and curves. We had a lot of fun sitting on the warm concrete, thick pieces of pastel chalk in our hands, collaborating on the plot and the illustrations, the sun shining down on us, neighbors walking their dog, clearing a swath around us and smiling as they passed.

After about 45 minutes, the girls had had enough of sitting mostly still and concentrating, so I decided to shift activities and teach them something about small. I selected one of the flowering plants in their garden for us to admire. Once we had all discussed what made that particular plant beautiful, each of us picked a flower from that plant. “Look at that flower for a minute and notice one small detail you find lovely,” I told them.

“It looks like lace around the edges,” seven-year-old Poppy announced.
“I see a slightly darker blue line down the middle of each petal,” eight-and-a-half-year-old Amelie offered.
“Look at the tiny bulge where the stem begins,” Poppy offered.
“The back side of the petal is lighter than the front,” Amelie observed.
“You know,” Poppy exclaimed, “I thought the plant was beautiful, but each tiny flower is even more beautiful than the whole plant.”
“Yes, and there’s lots to discover about each tiny flower!” Amelie added.

Not only was this a lovely lesson in small, it was also an opportunity to bone up on my botany. I googled “Anatomy of a Flower” on my phone, and the three of us were soon comparing the pistils, antlers, sepals and filaments on the rose, fuschia, dogwood and salvia blossoms in the garden.

As we stood several feet apart, masks covering our mouths and noses, outstretched hands cradling petals and whole blooms, I realized that this moment of discovering nature’s infinite beauty had been brought to me—to the three of us–by Covid 19.
                                       
                                            # #  #

3 Aids for Creativity in the Time of the Coronavirus

Today, I'm wrapping up our series on "Creativity in the Time of the Coronavirus." As April mentioned in her post, the topic is a take-off on the title, Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez, which neither she nor I have read. We just like the title.

April also shared that the inspiration for this series came from a Tweet thread posted by Cynthia Leitich Smith back in March. (The link April shared didn't work for some reason, but I think this one does.) Cynthia also posted the following graphic on her Facebook author page summarizing the Tweet thread. (If you can't read the following, April typed up the Tweets in her post.)

I love how Cynthia's post acknowledges that individual writers and illustrators (and really, creatives of any kind) can respond so differently to the same situation. One thing I've learned in my many years of teaching and writing is that no one way is right for everyone. While some writers work best by having a regular, daily writing time, others feel that creates too much pressure. Some writers thrive when they set word-count goals while others despise them. Similarly, we each have our own way of dealing with the stress of the coronavirus pandemic.

One of my goals for this group blog has been for the six TeachingAuthors to share our own unique approaches to being teachers and writers, even if those approaches are wildly different. For this series, Bobbi kicked us off by discussing examples of writers, illustrators, and storytellers who have been sharing their art and become "candles of light amid the dark night." In her post, Mary Ann confessed to being stalled in her writing and shared some of the books and articles helping her to be okay with that. April admitted that she finds the shower of online resources tiring. Her coping mechanism is to continue her habit of writing one poem a day, and she shared a powerful poem in her post (along with a video of a newborn pond turtle 😍). Esther's indomitable spirit shines through in her post on how "Unexpected Kodak Moments" (and her favorite ice cream) are helping her get through this crisis. Gwendolyn extolled the soothing quality of jazz and shared that "Just giving myself permission to write without worrying about the result makes me feel extra creative."

My fellow TeachingAuthors have already provided so many marvelous tips and resources. And yet, I still have something to add--I'd like to share the three things that are most helping my creativity during this time.

1) Nature
     As I mentioned in my last TeachingAuthors' post, walking outside gives me a mental health boost, especially now. I've been taking regular walks around the neighborhood (practicing social distancing when I encounter anyone). I find paying attention to all the changing signs of spring--sights, sounds, and smells--very uplifting.

I encountered this just-starting-to-bloom lilac on a recent walk

      On days when the weather keeps me indoors, I sometimes go online for my nature fix, checking out the latest videos or photos on the Morton Arboretum Instagram account or the Illinois Birding Network Facebook group. (I never knew Illinois had so many bird varieties!)

2) My critique group deadlines
     The critique group I'd participated in for many, many years disbanded some time ago after several members moved out of state and others simply stopped writing. I missed the group, but not the problem of having to fit those meetings into an already meeting-filled schedule. But in January of this year, I was fortunate to connect with a group that critiques each other virtually, via email, twice a month. Having that regular deadline has really helped me stay on task, especially since the shelter-at-home order. I know deadlines don't help everyone, but they're terrific motivators for people like me who are what Gretchen Rubin calls "Obligers." In her bestselling book, The Four Tendencies (Harmony), Rubin describes how Obligers need outer accountability to meet their own expectations. (If you're interested, check out her website for more info and take a quiz to find out your own tendency.) During this crisis, I've felt too distracted to do much reading, even for pleasure. But thanks to my regular critique group deadlines, I've been making slow and steady progress on my work-in-process. 
 
3) Jigsaw puzzles 
     Even before the pandemic started, I'd been thinking about pulling out some old jigsaw puzzles stored in our basement. Inspired by social media posts of others doing jigsaw puzzles, I finally did so. When the news gets overwhelming, working on the puzzle really calms me.

  
I hope this TeachingAuthors' series has brought comfort and inspiration to you, our readers. I'd like to end with Cynthia Leitich Smith's words:

You take care. Wash your hands. Do what you need
to do. Really, it’s okay.

Posted by Carmela

Where Is My Creative Mind?

I keep telling myself, “Come on Gwendolyn. Show your creative side. Rewrite that last paragraph. Show some pizazz!  Pizazz? I let out a deep breath. My pizazz floats away disappearing in the warm April breeze along with any cool thoughts I might have had about my current work-in-progress.

I keep watching the news for updates. I think about my writing project. I watch the news. I think about my project.

What now? I need to finish this project. The deadline is somersaulting toward me with no brakes in sight.

I don’t turn off my TV. Instead, I tune in my favorite music station. It plays jazz music all day and all night. No voices. No commercials. Just soothing jazz. I get some of my best ideas while listening to jazz.

I talk to my writer friends who are extremely generous during regular times and even more so now with COVID-19 AND lockdowns on our minds.  We read each other’s work, offer comments that are on point. You ask yourself, “Why didn’t I think of that?” They bring out more of my creative self.
Pull out a manuscript in your “Not Quite Ready” file. With a new perspective, you may be able to zero in on what could turn it into a sale. Relax. Take deep breaths. Close your eyes and type or write with your favorite pen. Don’t judge your work. Don’t even read it. Just keep going. As I write this, I’m thinking to myself, “Gwendolyn, you need to follow your own advice.”

While Hubby fishes, I write  by the calming
waters of  Lake Draper in Oklahoma City.

I am one of those who stops typing more often than I should and reread, delete and add as I write. Maybe it is time I follow my own advice. After all, it seems as if I’ll have plenty of time for revisions. WOW! Just giving myself permission to write without worrying about the result makes me feel extra creative. Maybe I’ll try a different point of view. There is an old manuscript I want to bring to life.

Is there an idea or character you visit from time to time, but never seriously follow through with your plans for it? Then maybe this is your moment. You won’t know until you explore it fully.

Fill your computer screen with stories only you can write. Your creative mind is within you. Use it. I promise to do the same.

Posted by Gwendolyn Hooks

Those Unexpected Kodak Moments…courtesy of COVID-19.

While quarantined and sheltering in place,

April writes poetry, celebrating just being.
Mary Ann likes and links, connecting online.                           
Bobbi celebrates our communities of writers.
I collect Unexpected Kodak Moments.

FYI:  in case you weren’t around in the 80’s, I’m referring to any happenings worthy of being memorialized with a photograph, originally captured using George Eastman’s Kodak camera.

COVID-19 has dramatically darkened our world as we once knew it.
The challenges for many of us are indeed overwhelming, and on a whole host of levels.
Even a “Non-stop finder of Life’s Silver Linings” such as I,
a Cubs Fan,
indeed, someone who responds, “Hopeful and grateful!” when asked how she is,
must admit: our world is askew.
This sadly unchanging view from my window says it all: the American flag atop Northwestern’s Feinberg School of Medicine, lowered to half-mast, honoring the now more-than-1400 Illinois citizens felled by the Coronavirus.

                       

Tears? Yes.
Fears? Absolutely.

But just as Mr. Rogers advised us to look for the Helpers, I remind myself to look for those Unexpected Kodak Moments.
I know first-hand: a well-planned Plotline can suddenly twist where we’d expected it to turn, forcing us to travel unknown paths set against unimagined backgrounds, with who-knows-what-and-who waiting around the bend.
But I also know, after considerable schooling in the above: while traveling those new obstacle-strewn roads Life’s redirected Plotlines offered us, every now and then, surprise, surprise! We come upon a happening that not only brings us a dollop of Joy. It demands a revisiting so we can see how we got through.

Here are but a few of the Unexpected Kodak Moments I’ve gratefully captured these past five weeks while doing my best to shelter in place. Hopefully one or two will bring you a smile and get you on your way to finding yours.

With apologies to Mr. Eastman, this is my Logitech C270 HD Webcam Moment… ….because of course on Tuesday, March 31, in the middle of ZOOMING everyone in my personal and professional worlds, my Lenova’s camera died.  Who knew laptop cameras were more precious than toilet paper? BUT I FOUND ONE – in Hong Kong - after 2 ½ hours online! And for an additional fee, and an elevated price, Tak Yuet International delivered it to me as promised in 9 days! And even better, even though I’m a Luddite, I attached it to my laptop and it worked!*
(My screensaver’s crocus blooming amidst snow and ice is there to remind me of Albert Camus’ brilliant line: “In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” Fingers crossed.)

The above video, though 19 minutes in length, still qualifies as a Kodak Moment, and an Unexpected one at that. Its availability brought hundreds of guests to SCBWI-Illinois’ first-ever April 15 Virtual Book Launch Party celebrating debut author Amy Alznauer and her eloquently-written picture book THE BOY WHO DREAMED OF INFINITY: A TALE OF THE GENIUS RAMANUJAN, gorgeously illustrated by Daniel Miyares and published by Candlewick. Amy’s originally-planned Book Launch was to be tomorrow Saturday at Anderson’s in Naperville, Illinois.
That “asterisk” beside the mention of my new spiffy camera above? Well, and of course, my logitech270’s Mic didn’t work once we began taping so I was forced to ZOOM in via my iPhone, thus explaining my non-static intro and wind-up, for which I apologize. However, I’m certain my love for Amy came through loud and clear. In 2015 my chapter gifted me with the opportunity to mentor “a picture book writer ready to cross the publishing threshold” via the Laura Crawford Memorial Mentorship. Both the winner Amy and her manuscript’s subject Ramanujan immediately claimed my heart.
Be sure to read my May 15 TeachingAuthors interview with Amy. We’ll be raffling a copy of THE BOY WHO DREAMED OF INFINITY.)

Thank goodness I didn’t discard my Illinois K-8 Teacher Certificate because I’m teaching once again, this time at VOVO SCHOOL!
(“Vovo,” by the way, is what my Brazilian-born 10-year-old grandson Gabe calls me.)
Gabe lives and breathes reptiles, spends hours “herping” (looking for reptiles beneath rocks, inside trees, affixed to the walls of his Sonoran Desert home) and dreams of being a herpetologist one day. Naturally, All-Things-Reptile lie at the heart of our daily lessons.
Science. Geography. Math. Writing concrete poems in the shape of lizards. Learning reptilian idioms. Taking virtual tours of Reptile Houses in zoos around the world. There are online reptile stores to explore - and - Reptile Shows to virtually attend.
All sorts of learning opportunities continue to snake through my mind, keeping Gabe learning ‘til his school district reopens in August, and best of all, the two of us connecting in fun ways.
I highly recommend educator Emily’s Snake Discovery channel.

Multiple Kodak Moments continue to fill my days as long-heard-from students, writers and fellow children’s book creators both near and far away email to query, “Are you doin’ okay?” 
No matter the possible link to warnings to remember “the elderly in hi-rises in densely-populated urban areas.” 😊
To be so thoughtfully remembered at such a time as this does wonders for the soul.
The Good News these folks share becomes my Good News.
For instance, here’s the cover of Claudia Friddell’s long-awaited picture book biography of Joseph Pulitzer, SAVING LADY LIBERTY: JOSEPH PULITZER’S FIGHT FOR THE STATUE OF LIBERTY, beautifully illustrated by Stacy Innerst and published this March by Calkins Creek.
You might remember Claudia and her first picture book GOLIATH from my January, 2010 Student Success Story.

I was so missing my Nia classes and 3-miles-per-day walks, so discovering Jenny Ford’s YouTube Marching Workout was a Kodak Moment for me.

Fortunately, my daily Marching Workouts more than readied me to walk 7 city blocks to and from my local Whole Foods for the 7 am Senior Shopping Time to discover this week’s Unexpected – and delicious - Kodak Moment. Not one but TWO pints on an otherwise empty freezer shelf.

Each day I receive a Gratitude quote. This Monday I read Jon Kabat-Zinn’s words.
         “The little things? The little moments? They aren’t little.”

I agree. An unexpected dollop of Joy can go a very long way, especially when sheltering in place during a quarantine.

May you need a stack of photo albums to store your Unexpected Kodak Moments these coming months and after!

Esther Hershenhorn
P.S.
Thanks to Christie Wyman at WonderingsandWanderings for hosting this week’s Poetry Friday.

POETRY IN THE TIME OF COVID19

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Howdy, Campers, and Happy Poetry Friday! (My poem and the PF link is below)

The topic we TeachingAuthors are exploring in this round is Creativity in the Time of the Coronavirus, a take-off on the title, Love in the Time of Cholera. It's funny--I've been thinking about the title of that book a lot lately, though I've never read it. I wonder if you've thought of that title, too.

And as much as I appreciate and am in awe of the shower of resources, inspirations and suggested activities raining down around us,

can I be totally honest here and say that simply reading the title of each link tires me out?

Eli, after looking at too many Instagram posts

In suggesting this topic, our Blog's Founder and Queen Mother, Carmela, sent us this link to Cynthia Leitich Smith's Twitter thread on March 22nd. (I've condensed it--it was 10 separate tweets on the same day):

Dear Children's-YA Author/Illustrator,

• It’s okay if you can’t get any writing and/or artwork done today.
• It’s okay if you need your writing and/or artwork more than ever.
• It’s okay if you’re upset that your new book isn’t getting the attention it deserves.
• It’s okay if you’re struggling to do online events.
• It’s okay if you don’t have a single idea for a video lesson or activity.
• It’s okay if you’re opting out of online events.
• It’s okay if you owe people messages.
• It’s okay if you don’t have the money to purchase or donate.
• It’s okay if you can’t focus on anything beyond your family/household.
• You take care. Wash your hands. Do what you need to do. Really, it’s okay.

I love all those okays. This list is so forgiving. So comforting.

Have you looked at your calendar lately after canceling event after event, and secretly breathed a sigh of relief?

I had to stop attending my beloved critique group when I was ill and have yet to reconnect. I couldn't drive across Los Angeles for an hour when I was sick. Once I let that go, I realized something: that drive is not healthy for me even when I'm well. 

And thus I eliminated several things I'd done regularly for years.

Am I an agoraphobic in an audacious person's clothing?

On March 24th (So long ago, right?  Where have all my days gone?), I was feeling "teacherly" and emailed a friend, who seemed as lost as I feel now:

Dear Janey,

I think you're asking for survival tips. 

Yesterday my survival tip was to label what I feel. I feel lethargic. Just finding that one right word for how I was feeling helped me. And I stopped yelling at myself for not being as productive as I imagine everyone else is. I just let little April be lethargic. 

Today I made a point of meditating before having breakfast. (What? Delay my breakfast????). Because it's easy to not meditate as my day speeds off on its own. This helped.
And I hiked with my dog and my two grand dogs (I call myself their Dogma) on a beautiful, muddy trail. Drenching myself in green always moves my meter closer to happy.

Note that this upbeat, helpful email was written when my son and his fiancee were hunkered down with us. I loved having them and their dogs fill our house. (Bonus: he bakes bread every day. That smell is house perfume.)  But they drove off to New Mexico two weeks ago, where he'll starts his residency in emergency medicine soon. (I know--yay, Son, and also, oh, dear...).

So now I'm alone most of the day, which is VERY different. I am not gardening. I am not making ratatouille. I am not decluttering. I am not even cutting my bangs.

But how am I surviving creatively?

I write a poem every day and send it to my friend, author Bruce Balan, who sends me a poem each day, too.

Want an example?

On April 7th, I wrote in my journal:

LA County is asking everyone to refrain from even shopping for food this week. We're bracing for a big wave of COVID-19...unless we all lay low. This is kind of like when you're in the ocean and you've miscalculated and that huge wave, which you'd thought you could swim over, is about to crash on top of you and you dive deep, hoping to avoid being in the washing-machine of the wave.

from Pixabay

And here's my April 7, 2020 poem (I immediately want to tell you that it's just a draft and I know it needs cutting and lots of other things are wrong with it, but I refrain from telling you this):

DADDY TOOK YOUR HAND

by April Halprin Wayland

Remember when Daddy took your hand

after you were thrashed

in a watery washing-machine of a wave

and you both walked slowly, so slowly

into the summery ocean
as that big wave came closer

and you could barely breathe

but he was gentle

he was calm

he held your hand

until you rose above the roar

as it pounded sand

and when the next one—the very next one

came growling at both of you

he showed you how to dive deep,

deeper then you thought you could go

below the wave's grasp

so it rumbled it rumbled

past

and all waves

the rest of that day

were just plain old nothing-to-be-afraid-of waves

you could fly

you could breathe

you were somewhere glorious and far away

all day

poem and drawing of the child in the rain © 2020 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved

================================

So...for today, I stand back and watch the world spin. And I forgive myself. It's okay.

Thank you, Molly, at Nix The Comfort Zone for hosting Poetry Friday!

Posted with gratitude by April Halprin Wayland with help from Eli and our teeny tiny newborn pond turtle:

"Real" Life on Line

Today, April 10, makes 30th day of self-quarantine. March 26 was my birthday--my age now has at least one digit that's a 6. The above picture sums up that special day--my daughter sent me daisies, my husband went to Costco and scored toilet paper and...Well, the typewriter was my dad's, the one on which I wrote my first stories when I was in second grade. OK, it's symbolic. Writing is what I do. And when I'm not writing, I'm thinking about writing.

I've done a lot of thinking these past 30 days.

One day, you're bopping along, the embodiment of "Age is just a number." The next, the CDC has declared you officially "elderly" and "at risk" of the coronavirus. Who? What? Me? I felt extremely lucky to be sound in mind and body. Until the CDC told me,"We don't care what age you think you are. You're over 60 and we say you're in big trouble. And old."

So, why am I thinking and not writing?

I am a worrier by nature, even on the calmest of days. A world upended sends me spinning into outer space, like an astronaut who comes untethered during a space walk. (Think the movie Gravity, and that's me.)

Now, with my connection to the outside world is Face Time chats and texting, I need something more to keep me going. Biographies and memoirs are my favorite reading material. I'm especially fascinated by how people cope in impossible situations. Right now, I'm reading Hidden Valley Road by Robert Kolker, about a family with twelve children, six of whom were diagnosed with  schizophrenia. Not applicable to writing, but helping to anchor me in my safe, if solitary existence.

Other people, other stories have arrived in my life, via my laptop (how else?)

From the Washington Post came this article by Sunny Fitzgerald (available only with subscription) about the guilt "of not working in the midst of crisis." Currently, my husband works from the kitchen table, solving "six impossible things before breakfast" and catching up on twenty years worth of home improvement jobs.  He gets exasperated with my inactivity. I get exasperated with my inactivity.  If nothing else, this article stopped my negative inner chatter.

I discovered The Storytellers Project through my morning read of USA Today. As a child, there was nothing I enjoyed more than my parents and grandparents telling me stories of about their childhoods.  The Storytellers Project records everyday people, sharing their real, first person stories with an audience. They appear in USA Today every Thursday. This week's theme was "overcoming self-doubt, certainly helpful in a time where everything seems to be in doubt.

My friends are forever sending me writing links. This one from McSweeney's,  "I Am Using My Free Time Not to Write a Novel" by Scott Bolohan is a snarky look at all of us stalled-out writers.  It turned my current state into something not-so-serious, but with more than a hint of truth.

Finally, there is this episode of NPR's Fresh Air, Terry Gross interviewing that Master of Writing-Every-Day-No-Matter-What, Stephen King.  Like a lot of us, he is stuck in the house with a WIP that's been stalled for years. I have a feeling King's problem is not being "stalled" so much as having too many simultaneous WIP's. I've always secretly thought that King turns on his computer, leaves the room, returns in a couple of days and finds a finished novel. (He's never said that's not the case.) I always enjoy his interviews, which reassure me that while he is incredibly productive, he sounds like the rest of us...watching Netflix, taking out the garbage.

We are living in an open-ended nightmare. There is no end date. When someone does conjecture a date, my first thought is "So soon! Will it be safe then? Who knows what safe is." I know the world I "return" to will be unlike the like the one I left March 12, 2020.

And when we re-emerge to our new reality, I know there will be my friends online, sending me links and personal advice, to cope with what is.

Ten Thousand Sorrows, Ten Thousand Joys

Like everyone else, I am sheltering in place. Because I have taught classes online for years, I have been fortunate to not experience much disruption in my classes. However, as a writer, it has been more challenging to make my art during this time of anxiety-producing calamity and deluge of bad news.

While staying informed is a necessity to surviving the crisis, it becomes all too easy to become overwhelmed by it. To be swept away by it. To be defeated by the despair of it.

“The arts are … a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possible can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.” ― Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country

Ashley Wolff

The light still shining amid all the darkness, however, is the harboring community of writers and artists that share my space. Remember the Taoist principle, noted by Chuang Tzu, “When you open your heart, you get life’s ten thousand sorrows, and ten thousand joys.” 

Over these many weeks, with all the ten thousand sorrows we’ve experienced as a nation and world community, many artists – writers, illustrators, storytellers, musicians, editors, librarians, teachers, and more – have started to share their art in all its many forms. And in so doing, they became the ten thousand joys, the candles of light amid the dark night.

Illustrator Ashley Wolff and her incomparable Rufus reminded everyone in every state to Be Strong.

Storyteller Kevin O’Malley invited those in his Facebook sphere to send him ideas, whether about their favorite people or their favorite things, and he responded to making every wish come true!

Kevin O'Malley

Shevi Arnold created the Facebook public group, Social Distancing Society, now approaching 1.8 K members, all sharing laughs, music, arts, videos – all a reminder that we are in this together! Do check it out!

Book Riot offers a list of children authors posting videos of reading their books and offering activities for their young audiences. Mary Cadden at USA TODAY highlights Storyline Online, a children's literary website featuring videos of actors reading children’s books alongside produced illustrations. Each book has a recommended grade level and activity guides. Among the readers: Betty White reading “Harry the Dirty Dog,” author Jannell Cannon reading her book “Stellaluna” and Rose Byrne reading “The Tale of Peter Rabbit.” Betty White!!!

O! And look at this treat! Master Storyteller Eric Kimmel reads folktales from around the world!

There's more, it turns out. My FB friend Danny Alderman serenades a slew of us with oldies but goodies weekly.  Check out his Facebook page, Danny and Kim and Friends for more videos and activities.

As Nicole Fichera, in her article “Art in Times of Crisis,” reminds us that “When we shift our attention away from fear, art will be waiting for us.”

       “Art brings our mind into balance.” -- Nicole Fichera

Share your favorite videos and inspirations, whatever it may be. Let's add to the ten thousand joys that bring light in this time of darkness! 

--Bobbi Miller

About the photo: One of my favorite inspirations, Granddaughter decorates the front window with her favorite things, so if you walk by the house, you'll smile.

Trimerics: back to the familiar and into the unknown

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Howdy, Campers!  Happy Poetry Friday (PF link & my poem are below)

First of all, we at TeachingAuthors hope you're getting some solid sleep, walking a dog, connecting with those you hold dear, and finding a little island of peace in this brave new world. We appreciate each of you very much.💓

This is our final post on how we're taking leaps in our career or our writing during this leap year, beginning with Bobbi's terrific Taking Leaps in Historical Fiction. (Lately, going to the grocery store feels like a leap of faith, doesn't it?)

But before we get started, a brief detour. The Jewish holiday of Passover in 2020 begins at sundown on Wednesday, April 8, and ends Thursday evening, April 16. The first Passover seder is on the evening of April 8. Here's how to celebrate Passover online, posted on the blog ReformJudaism.org, and here's an article on how those in Staten Island are (or are not) celebrating Passover in this strange time (Orthodox Jews cannot celebrate online).

So the other day I got a lovely email from Alysse Rich, the Principal of the Children’s Jewish Studies Program in Toronto Canada's Danforth Jewish Circle. If you have 10 minutes, enjoy watching Alysse (and little Arthur) reading and singing my Passover picture book, MORE THAN ENOUGH, (cheerfully illustrated by Katie Kath) to her school. (Alysse plays a mean guitar player and has a lovely voice.)

Okay ~ now let's get back to our regularly scheduled program: the leaps each of us has taken or hopes to take.

Today I encourage you to take a leap: try a poetic form that's new to you. And since I've fallen in love (again) with trimerics, why don't you try writing one? 

In June 2011, I posted about falling in love with trimeric poems for the first time. Here's a good definition from http://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/trimeric/: Trimeric \tri-(meh)-rik\ n: a four stanza poem in which the first stanza has four lines and the last three stanzas have three lines each, with the first line of each repeating the respective line of the first stanza.  The sequence of lines, then, is abcd, b – -, c – -, d – -. 

My love for trimerics faded, but now I love being back in the arms of this form. In fact, trimerics have become my escape from pandemic pandemonium (and emails!  Is everyone drowning in helpful or alarming or helpfully alarming emails?!?).

Why do I love trimerics? Because all I need is a first line. That line takes my hand and leads me to places I've never known. Each new poem pushes me to leap into the unknown.

drawing (c)2020 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved.

Here, for your reading pleasure, are three trimerics.

In TENDER, the first line walked onto my page, unattached to any idea. It grew into a poem about my son when he was a young teen.

TENDER
by April Halprin Wayland

He's a slip of a boy, really.

Tender as a slim green shoot

just angling out of earth.

But there are other ways in him.

Tender as a slim green shoot,

he also bristles into cactus,

a dragnet of needles—watch out!

Just angling out of earth,

he can still be caught (wear gloves!)

He can still be taught to breathe gently.

But there are other ways in him

beyond tender, beyond thistly.

Walk into his rooms. Switch on each light.

==============================

I have NO idea where this one came from:

CHANGE OF PLANS
by April Halprin Wayland

"One more thing," she said quietly,

not wanting to interrupt him.

He looked up from the last chapter.

He had been reading a murder mystery.

Not wanting to interrupt him

was her mantra, her world view, her Golden Rule...

until Aunt Blanche had that talk with her.

He looked up from the last chapter

and saw that she was aiming a blow torch

at his lap.

He had been reading a murder mystery.

He was dying to know how it ended.

He didn't know that she had been reading it, too.

==================================

And this one I wrote today. Once again it started with the title.

FRIGHTENED? ME?

by April Halprin Wayland

When I was little,

my mom used to say,

"Every bad dream is a story you tell yourself."

She would rock me to sleep.

My mom used to say,

"Dark things that shake you awake
will be gone in the morning."

"Every bad dream is a story you tell yourself,"

she'd murmur, rocking.

I loved her warm flower smell.

She would rock me to sleep.
She can't anymore.

I've learned: now I tell myself a different story.
=================================

all poems (c)2020 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved.

If you DO find yourself fiddling with trimerics when taking a break from sewing face masks (which, even if they're just bandanas, are apparently great if you want to keep yourself from touching your face 90 times a day), please share them with me ~ I'd love to read what you came up with!

Thank you, Tabatha, for hosting Poetry Friday
at The Opposite of Indifference

posted in good health from a respectful distance by April Halprin Wayland