2 THINGS I LEARNED & CANT WAIT TO SHARE!

Howdy Campers, and Happy Poetry Friday! (The link to PF is below)

I'm starting off our final topic of the year: 

Something New I Learned and Can't Wait to Share 

Sadie learns something new: TV!

There are soooo many things I'd love to share!
But lucky, lucky you, 

I can't remember all of them,
so I'll just offer two.

#1: This Splendid Blog Came Knocking at my Door...

Many of you probably already know this one...it's a blog! it's a newsletter! it's a splendid picture book/poetry/gift resource and more!)

I'm talking about Orange Marmalade Books ~ with the tagline: spreading the word on delightful children's literature  

And who's the wonderful writer behind the curtain?  Her name is Jill Swanson (though I think of her as Ms Marmalade.)

Jill's October 14th post, "Five for Autumn's Splendor" introduces us to the beauty of picture books that celebrate fall, including Buffy Silverman's On a Gold-Blooming Day: Finding Fall Treasures  

I love that her posts are never too long to read on a busy day, and I love that they're always full of the illustrations of the picture books she's introducing us to...such as this illustration from Buffy's book:

If this photo is cut-off on your device,
the words on each picture are: 
Clouds rumble. Mushrooms Pop.
Raindrops Tumble. Acorns drop.

I also love that this blog shines its light on books that are hot off the press and those that have been around for a while. Good books shouldn't be lost in the shuffle, and Ms Marmalade sees that they aren't.

I like getting her blog as a newsletter, which comes every two weeks. If you haven't already, check it out!

#2: A Poet I've Just Discovered: Arthur Guiterman

This past weekend, our pup Sadie was overjoyed to be in the center of a circle of my folk music friends in our living room. Janet, who was tossing Sadie a ball, told me that when she was young, her family put this short poem on their dog's house:

MOTTO FOR A DOG
by Arthur Guiterman

I love this little house because
It offers, after dark, 

A pause for rest, a rest for paws,

A place to moor my bark.

Sadie prefers Kitty's bed to her own

Born in 1871, Arthur Guiterman was famous for his clever humor and quick language.  He wrote of technological advances and modern progress in poetry, novels and satires. He addressed the hypocrisy of the ladies of Daughters of the American Revolution and other similar organizations. Guiterman co-founded the Poetry Society of America in 1910. Guiterman was forever caught in the “now,” addressing the rapid and shocking evolution of society with humor and mental agility: "First dentistry was painless;/Then bicycles were chainless" as well as...“Now motor roads are dustless, The latest steel is rustless, Our tennis courts are sodless, Our new religions, godless.” ~ The information above, which I've shortened, is from this source.

In looking up Guiterman, I discovered that one of my fellow blogmates, JoAnn Early Macken, posted information about him in 2016 and shared the very poem you just read.😊 

In her post, JoAnn writes: "The last line always grabs me. I didn’t realize the double meaning at first: a bark is a kind of boat; of course, a dog’s bark would be moored (tied up) somewhere cozy and safe. And the pause/paws homonyms add to the poem’s genius." 

Thank you, Matt, for hosting Poetry Friday this week 
on Radio, Rhythm and Rhyme

posted with hope by April Halprin Wayland,
with help from Sadie's big sister, Kitty

3 Things You May Not Know About Me

Howdy, Campers, and happy Poetry Friday! (My poem, the links to PF and to my upcoming classes are below).

We in the TeachingAuthors treehouse 

decided to get personal this 'round, so hold onto your hats as we blog about the 3 Things You May Not Know About...

Carmela started our 13th(!)-year with a bang: 3 Things You May Not Know About TeachingAuthors and a Trimeric Poem which details our new posting schedule, new calendar, and her terrific trimeric poem; Mary Ann reveals the famous children's author/illustrator she kissed, a shocking newspaper interview, and the book series she--a former children's librarian--has never read. 

And here are 3 Things You May Not Know About Me:

1) About 700 years ago at a conference far away, Nikki Grimes and two of her friends I'd had dinner with, knocked on my hotel room door past midnight. 

I was in my pajamas. 

They plopped down on my bed. 

I did my best to wake up. (I felt as if I were thirteen again, this time with the "in" girls who wanted to talk to me...in my pjs...on my bed!) 

Three older white men had had dinner with us--possibly publishers or book sales reps--I don't remember now. Nikki asked if I was aware of the racial slurs they had flung across the table at dinner. 

Now I was wide awake. Whaaa...? 

Those remarks had flown invisibly past me. 

These women were sitting on my bed, in the middle of the night, to open my eyes.

Maybe those remarks were dog whistles, meant only for the ears of the three black women at the table. 

Or maybe I was focused on the salmon, maybe I was dying for another roll but didn't want to look like a glutton, or maybe my monkey mind was buzzing from the conference.

They did their best to help me see that night, but I don't think I really understood. Though my family--grandparents, uncles, aunts, mother, father, sister and I--had been activists first and foremost in our lives, I'd never endured what Nikki and her friends had.

I look back with embarrassment. But also with gratitude. 

Thank you, Nikki, for trying that night, though I didn't understand. 

I am just beginning to understand, 700 years later.

[Addendum posted 2/9/22: I appreciate Heidi Mordhorst's comment below (and our subsequent correspondence): The stories that we white people can tell each other of our ignorance, our safety, our privilege are really important, April. Thank you. I'm so interested in how you characterized the "dog whistles" as meant for Black ears, when usually they're meant from white mouths for other white ears. Some of the ignorance of us "good white people" is that we don't suspect others of being racist; we don't hear what they're really saying. Let us be owls in all seasons, listening for what's underneath the surface.  

I now realize that it may be hardest for those of us from activist families to shift from believing that not being blatantly racist is enough. It's up to me to become anti-racist, an upstander and an ally.]

2) My picture book, MORE THAN ENOUGH ~ a Passover Story, illustrated by the wonderful Katie Kath (Dial Books), is coming out as a paperback and an audiobook on 2/22/22 🌞What a happy date🌞 (You can pre-order it from an indie bookstore now!)

(For those of you with an iron stomach, here's the whole, bloody creation story behind More Than Enough...which you can wash down with these delicious reviews.)

3) I recorded the author's notes for the audiobook in a fancy Santa Monica studio!  (The author's notes are just seven sentences long.)

Moi, after reading the author's notes

from More Than Enough...stoked with coffee

4) A bonus fact you may not know about me: my intention this year is to be present. So my word for 2022 is presence. When we're truly present, our  presence is a present 🎁

About a year ago I learned something (which you'll read in the backstory) that made me appreciate how focused owls are...how present they are, which inspired today's poem:

OWLS
by April Halprin Wayland

They are a special breed,

those focused listeners

who block out all

 

as if they're owls,

who hear

a mouse's heart

 

beat 

under

snow.

poem © 2022 April Halprin Wayland
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Backstory:

I heard on the radio that "Owls can hear a mouse's heartbeat under a foot of snow"!  Isn't that MARVELOUS?

I did a virtual cartwheel when I heard that.
======================
Thank you for stopping by today! One final note:

I'll be teaching Introduction to Writing Children's Poetry on Saturday, March 26, 2022 12 noon-3pm PST, and Introduction to Writing a Children's Picture Book on Saturday, April 9, 2022 12 noon-3pm PST. Both are virtual classes; enrollment is limited to 20 students.

Thank you, Elisabeth, for hosting Poetry Friday at Unexpected Intersections

posted by April Halprin Wayland, with love

2 Poems of Hope for the New Year

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Howdy, Campers ~ and happy Poetry Friday!  (Two poems and the PF link are below)

CONGRATULATIONS to the TeachingAuthors reader who won Kimberly Hutmacher's book, Your Nose Never Stops Growing and Other Cool Human Body Facts in our last giveaway of the year.... drum roll, please...

 ---> John S! <---
(This is not a picture of John, but I'll bet he's this excited)

I'm honored to be writing the last TeachingAuthors post of our 10th year. We'll return refreshed and ready to entertain, educate and inspire you on January 10, 2020.
......................................................................................................

I wanted to end this year with a note of hope.

Or two.

I scrolled through old poems tagged with the word hope--there are lots!

Then I cold-bloodedly killed off all but two...and can't decide which to post. So here are two to send you into the new year with hearts full of hope. Which do you prefer?

IN KAUAI
by April Halprin Wayland
July 27, 2018

I'm fourteen

the sand is neon hot

I run into the sea

letting its waves drink me

I swim as if I'm in our school's pool

burying my face in its warm water

savoring that strange grey light the concrete walls cast

reveling in its chlorine smell

but I'm in Kauai, Hawaii, salt in my eyes, salt in the air

there are fish below, but I don't have a snorkel or mask

so I swim and swim and swim—

there are no concrete walls here

and oof! I bump into a snorkeling man and his daughter

we laugh and he takes off his gear, "Here—you've got to see this"

as if it were the most natural thing

as if we were long-time friends

so I do—I put my mouth on the bite tab

even though we've never met—

and slip on the mask to see
what I knew was there

what I didn't know

was how much kindness
was swimming

so near

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

ALMOST 10 PM

by April Halprin Wayland
August 19, 2010

My brain is sinking into the first chapter of a really great book.

I’m on top of the bed leaning against four fat pillows

wearing my seriously soft socks

as always.

Gary's reading The Economist on the little couch

head back against the square cushion he’s positioned just right  

feet on the opposite arm of the couch

as always.

Eli is upside down, back legs against the couch

front legs straight up in the air, paws flopped

eyes closed, breathing deeply

as always.

The balcony door nearest the couch

is open

letting in a loose tangle of African daisies

and this just-right August night.

I turn a page.

Something makes me look up.

Elsie

pokes her head in the bedroom door.

Her green eyes narrow.

She studies the dog for a minute.

Then she slinks blackly along the edge of the room

towards our bed.

I wave my arm frantically over my head,

finally catch Gary's eye,

mouth, “ELSIE!”

and point.

Elsie is evading a predator.

She relaxes as she slips past the bed

which will block Eli's view if he wakes,

then takes a cat-light leap, landing next to my thigh.

By the time I turn on the ten’ clock news

(which wakes Eli)

Elsie is warm on my stomach.

Eli trots over.

She offers her head to him for a lick.

For several licks.

She leans further forward,

purring.

His tail wags furiously.

He puts his paw on her

and cocks his head.

Her ears flatten.

Elsie's purr goes guttural, dark, deep.

Eli sits down.

Then he yawns (I am so bored).
Chews an itch by his tail. Lies down.

Maybe there is hope

for peace

in the Middle East

after all.

 Elsie & Eli the first day they met, 2010

Eli romancing Elsie when they were young

poems (c) 2019 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved.

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From all of us at TeachingAuthors ~
may you have moments of peace
this holiday season
and may we all find hope
in the new year.

And thank you, Buffy, for hosting Poetry Friday today!

posted with a little help from Eli by April Halprin Wayland

READING ALOUD TO MY DOG IN MY PJS

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Howdy, Campers, and Happy Poetry Friday!  (Can you tell I had no idea what to title this post?)

Guess what? February 1st was #WorldReadAloudDay, and we TeachingAuthors are celebrating all week long!

Carmela's post started us out, Esther reads poetry aloud to her grandson via Skype with glee, and now it's my turn!

This is going to be a quick post, as my To Do list is sky high (raise your hand if you can relate), so here's me with the book I'm currently
reading aloud to my dog Eli, in my favorite flannels:

photo by Gary Wayland

If you can't read the title, it's our very own Carmela Martino's marvelous historical novel, Playing By Heart. Her sumptuous descriptions of life in 18th century Milan have me right there, in teen composer Emilia Salvini's music room. 

Eli and I agree: her book's delicious!

I searched and searched my poem files for poems about reading aloud. I tried to write one, too, about a mama mountain lion reading aloud to her cubs. But it was too syrupy sweet and I don't think I want it wandering around as internet corn...I know you understand.  So here's one I wrote for an anthology in 2009 that hasn't come out yet (if it ever does):

BOOKTIME
by April Halprin Wayland

I stand on our couch
closing windows,
pulling down shades,
shutting out shouting streets.

Wheels, squeals and dust driven past
disappear.
Those constant distant drums outside
are gone.

Inside I sit close to Mom.
I lay my head against her.
Listen to her heart
Listen to the words.

Listen to the whisper
of each
turned
page.

poem (c) 2018 April Halprin Wayland all rights reserved.

(If you'd like another poem on listening, here's one I wrote for World Read Aloud Day in 2016--this one is about not listening to your inner critic as you write--click here).

Lots of love to Friday Poets, all!

Thank you, Donna, at MainelyWrite for hosting Poetry Friday!

posted by April Halprin Wayland, Eli, the eight or nine 10-cent goldfish (all grown-up), and the five red-eared slider turtles in her pond, all very fine listeners.

3 Chances to Win PET CRAZY, a Poetry Friday Power Book

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Howdy, Campers ~ Happy Poetry Friday! Link to PF is below.

Today Eli and I are excited to introduce you to the newest addition in the extraordinary series, Poetry Friday Power Books, PET CRAZY (Pomelo Books), by Sylvia Vardell and Janet Wong, illustrated by Franzi Paetzold. (At the end of this post you'll have a chance to win one of three autographed copies--lucky you!)

Eli, captivated by Pet Crazy 

As always, creators Janet Wong and Sylvia Vardell turn teaching on its ear. They're a brilliant team unfailingly inventing original and inspiring curriculum for each book. This one's for younger elementary ages and they've nailed it. (Full disclosure: Eli is excited because my poem about his favorite place in the world--the dog park--is included.)

PET CRAZY: A Poetry Friday Power Book is a story in poems and a writing journal with twelve "PowerPacks" filled with activities to get young children thinking, drawing, reading, and writing about all kinds of pets. (Eli believes dogs are the best possible pet, but he says he's willing to keep an open mind.)

It was inspired by poems in The Poetry Friday Anthology® series. Five of these became  “anchor poems” that form the core of PET CRAZY.  Seven new poems were commissioned specifically for this book. Then Janet took these 12 anchor poems and connected them with 24 poems (which she wrote) to create a story featuring three animal-loving kids.

Here’s an example of how this book introduces the concept of free verse in PowerPack 11, near the end of the book, after the the poet's tools of rhyme, questions, repetition, stanzas, emotions, alliteration, acrostics, dialogue, found words and lists have been introduced:

 PowerPack 11 table of contents

"PowerPlay"
.

 Anchor and Response poems

Mentor poem and Power2You

Pretty cool, right? (Eli says he's not at all surprised that PET CRAZY was chosen as a Children’s Book Council “Hot Off the Press” selection.)

And here are the contributors to PET CRAZY (and their pets):

Snot, enjoying her very own copy of  PET CRAZY

Kristy Dempsey KristyDempsey.com (Dogs are her favorite pet, but a couple of cats named Rascal and Minnie have curled their way into her heart as well.)

Helen Frost HelenFrost.net (Helen enjoys raising and releasing monarch butterflies.) 

Janice Harrington JaniceHarrington.com (Her favorite pet was a wonderful mutt named Nipper.)

Eric Ode EricOde.com (When Eric was a teacher, classroom pets included painted turtles, red-bellied newts, and a rat named Crockett.)

Laura Shovan LauraShovan.com (Her family lost a beloved cat, Nutmeg, just like in her poem included in this book.)

Elizabeth Steinglass ElizabethSteinglass.com (She has a sleepy cat named Scout.)

Eileen Spinelli EileenSpinelli.com (Eileen and her husband raise monarch butterflies.)

Don Tate DonTate.com (Our sources say us he's a gym-rat. :-)

Padma Venkatraman PadmaVenkatraman.com (Padma's also an oceanographer; she undoubtedly loves ocean animals)

(me) AprilWayland.com (We have a cat named Snot--Eli would just as soon we didn't have her--a tortoise named Sheldon--who Eli likes quite a bit--five red-eared sliders, two box turtles, and last but not least Eli, a noodle-brain and an avid hiker.) [Guess who says he does not appreciate this description?]

Sylvia Vardell (PoetryForChildren.blogspot.com) (Sylvia's favorite pets are dogs; she’s had three of them--Luther, Yenta, and Caesar--as well as Leonardo the tortoise, and a parakeet named Pecky.)

Tamera Will Wissinger TameraWillWissinger.com (Tamera once had a small cat that was a ball retriever.)

Carole Boston Weatherford CBWeatherford.com (Carole has shared her home with beagles Lucky, Snoopy, Hendrix and Gigi.)

Janet Wong  JanetWong.com (Janet's had dozens of pets, including birds, fish, a frog, hamsters, lizards, turtles, a cat, and dogs Bernadette, Coco, Nissa, and Angel.)

Nissa, teaching Janet "speak!"
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Congratulations, Janet and Sylvia for producing another imaginative, satisfying, useful book!

Campers, we have THREE autographed copies of PET CRAZY to give away, thanks to the generosity of Pomelo Books! (Ever the optimist, Eli says if he were a teacher, a parent, or the relative of an aspiring poet, he'd enter right away to win it in time for the holidays.)

To enter, use the Rafflecopter widget below. You may enter via 1, 2, or all 3 options.

If you choose option 2, you MUST leave a comment on TODAY'S blog post below or on our TeachingAuthors Facebook page. If you haven't already "liked" our Facebook page, please do so today. In your comment, tell us what you'd do with this book if you win our giveaway--keep it for yourself or give it to a teacher or a young reader?

(If you prefer, submit your comment via email to: teachingauthors [at] gmail [dot] com.)

Email subscribers: if you received this post via email, click on the Rafflecopter link at the end of this message to access the entry form.

Note: if you submit your comments via email or Facebook, YOU MUST STILL ENTER THE DRAWING VIA THE WIDGET BELOW. The giveaway ends November 8th and is open to U.S. residents only.

P.S. If you've never entered a Rafflecopter giveaway, here's info on how to enter a Rafflecopter giveaway and the difference between signing in with Facebook vs. with an email address.

And don't forget that it's Poetry Friday!
Thank you, Brenda, for hosting PF at Friendly Fairy Tales!

posted poetically by Eli, with help from April Halprin Wayland...and Snot, though Eli refuses to admit it.
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a Rafflecopter giveaway

My Month of Wild Adventure and a Poem

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Konnichiwa, Campers! Happy Poetry Friday and Happy nearly National Poetry Month! PF link and my own poem are below.

And...you have 'til the end of today to enter our giveaway! Details below.

We TeachingAuthors are excited that National Poetry Month begins on April 1st! (And I'm busily stretching my neck, preparing to turn my head a gazillion times an hour for the next 30 days, thinking someone is calling my name.)

Lately, as those of you who follow this blog may remember, I've been in a questioning mode about my writing life. So I set out on an adventure--to take a step back--without much Wi-Fi, social media, voice mail, phone calls or text. To be honest, most of that wasn't on purpose--most of it was because Wi-Fi was spotty at best and I was so busy doing outside stuff I had no time at the end of the day except to write my poem and fall into bed, happily exhausted.

I spent two weeks hiking in New Zealand:

So much beauty...so many miles of trails ~

and then two weeks in Japan with my dear friends, author Bruce Balan and his wife, Alene. They live on their cherry red trimaran, Migration, which takes its name from Bruce's first picture book, The Cherry Migration. They've lived on her for 12 years, sailing around the world.

Bruce and I were invited to speak at two schools in Japan: Marist Brothers International School and Fukuoka International School.

In we go!

Fukuoka International School: Best. Library Door. Ever.

 

Lucky, lucky me!

My notes before meeting  Bruce and Alene's friends for dinner...
a new language and new names ~

Sugoi! (= wow!) I'm still glowing. I don't have any conclusions yet...but here's the poem I sent Bruce last night--and below it is the backstory. (We love the backstory of each other's poems).

CAN'T


"Can't," says Ant.

"Just try," says Fly.

"Why?" asked Trout.



"I'll cry," says Ant.

"Defy," says Fly.

"Won't die," says Trout.



"No," weeps Ant.

"Move slow," says Fly.

"Have a go," says Trout.



"Freak out!" screams Ant.

"Don't doubt," says Fly.

"Find out," says Trout.



"Find out?" asks Ant.

So Fly 

helped Ant

just try.



And Trout

helped Ant

find out. 

And Ant?

Didn't die.

poem © 2017 April Halprin Wayland. All rights reserved

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Backstory: Today I heard an actor talk about roles that scare him. He says yes to them to find out if he can do them or not. He said, "What's the worst that can happen—I find out that I can't." Wow. I hope I can be less attached to the outcome when I write. For now, I am inspired by the words FIND OUT.

Maybe I can do it...to find out if I can do it. That feels light...like something easy, no big deal, as if I'm taking a little kid's hand and leading her to the playground so we can both try the slide, just to find out if it's scary.

Hmmmm.

Okay, Campers...what are you most afraid of doing? Write a poem about it (and share it with us if you're feeling brave) for National Poetry Month.

And if you're reading this on Friday, you still have time to enter our giveaway for a chance to win Matt Bird's The Secret of Story...it ends tonight, March 31, 2017.

Thank you, dear Amy LV of The Poem Farm, for hosting Poetry Friday!

posted guiltily (for including too many photos) by April Halprin Wayland, with help from her happy hiker's feet!

Ahhhhh....the half-way point of one of our longest hikes in New Zealand

4 Apps for Writers and Creatives, and a Terrible Poem (Sorry)

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Howdy, Campers and Happy Poetry Friday! (Links to PF and our latest autographed book drawing (!) are at the end of this post.)

Our current topic is Writer Resources. Esther's fabulous post offers five books for young writers, all of which I covet. I'd like to share four free apps I continually draw on. They enrich my life.

Meditating sometimes helps me hear that still, small voice that tells me the truth about a story I'm writing, about a life crisis, or about a relationship in flux. Insight Timer is an app I use for both silent meditations and also for its free guided meditations. I can filter them by topic (sleep, morning, energy, healing, fear, etc.), by length (from one minute to over an hour), by teacher (from all over the world), by how many thousands of times it has been played, by reviews, etc. I've been meditating for about fifteen years; this app makes it hard not to.

Adblock Plus My computer guy downloaded this popular browser extension for me years ago; it changed my life. It's free and open source and I donate to it. Why? Because if I open a web page without Adblock Plus, there are ads and moving images screaming at me. I can't focus with Las Vegas pounding on my brain. With ABP, all I see is the resource itself in a quiet field of white. Like Ferdinand the bull, instead of fighting in bull fights, I get to sit quietly under my own cork tree and smell the flowers as I write with the aid of the next two resources.

Illustration by Robert Lawson from Ferdinand, by Munro Leaf, first published in 1936

Thesaurus Many of you already use this resource. If you click on the link, you'll see that it takes you to a word which helps me write. That's the page I bookmark.

RhymeZone Another one that many of you use. 

If these last two resources were pencils, they'd be little tiny stubs, I use them so much!

Okie dokie...it's Poetry Friday, so here's my poem for today. I fully admit that it's terrible, but it was fun to write and it makes me laugh.

A RAT'S TALE
by April Halprin Wayland
                     .

Ree was a rat who lived by the Source.

She did nothing but watch the Source water course

from her lonely rat hut 'neath the sourwood tree.

Ree was inactive.

Ree had no life.

Just the Source and her hut and her hot, bedtime tea.

But Ree's life was changed

when she joined the gym.

She became a gym rat and the gym referee.

She took 20 classes

that first week on a spree.

And all of her coaches said, "Sweat is the key!"

But the more Ree worked out, the more parched she got—

sweating at night

(though Ree was not hot.)

She guzzled her tea, then looked in her cup.

She pondered, then wandered outside near that tree

then drank from the Source 'til she was filled up.

And that's when Ree realized what gumption begets—

she stood taller, was forceful...

and declared,

"I'm

Ree

Source

full!"                                                               (Sorry.)

The Scream by Edvard Munch, 1893

Readers, now's your chance to enter our drawing to win an autographed copy of Tuktuk: Tundra Tale (Arbordale Publishing), by Robin Currie, illustrated by Phyllis V. Saroff. The drawing ends February 22, 2017. click here for more information.

Thank you, dear Jone, for hosting PF today at Check It Out!

posted by April Halprin Wayland with gratitude for the love and support of you, our peeps of the Kidlitosphere