But I’m also not sure what I have to say about writing lately. I’m feeling a bit frozen about my writing in fact. That isn’t to say I don’t do it — I do. In fact, I just wrote a short story that might actually have some real strengths for an anthology I’ve been contracted to edit and write for. Things I’ll Never Say, Short Stories About Our Secret Selves. My writers — outstanding writers who are sending in some amazing stories — have a December 1 deadline. I have until January 1 to organize the stories, write short author bios and an introduction. I can do it. I’m not really even worried about it.
Only, there’s something going on with the way I feel about writing. That’s really where this question comes from. Lately, I’m not sure why I write because I’m not sure where my passion for writing has gone. I’m not feeling the heat and I’m wishing, like my cold angel on the wall, that I could just go inside and get warm with words. I don’t think my passion’s lost, but it’s in hiding. Has this ever happened to you? And where do you go to fill that passion well?
Hey all, Look what’s available now….
I wrote a blog for the Children’s Literature Network about how this book came out of an email from an editor who knew I write biography and that I’m an adoptive mom four times over. It was a labor of love, a way to make sure my young adults know that I want them to explore the world and pick and choose heroes who will speak to their own talents and interests. But it also speaks to children in kinship care like John Lennon. Kinship care is an informal adoption in which a child is raised by relatives. Marilyn Monroe was raised in guardianship after her birth mother became too ill to take care of her. Do Diddley was adopted and so was Nelson Mandela. I loved learning about the people whose stories are included in this book. And I hope it’s read by families united in adoption as well as folks out there who hope to learn more about adoption and being adopted.
You may have to special order from your local Indie bookstore or you can order this from Amazon or Barnes and Noble. I thank you in advance for putting out the word that adopted kids turn into adopted heroes!
Look closely and you can see an eagle’s nest…..
Here’s the eagle….
August is the most heartbreaking month. It’s the time when cicadas call out warnings that the heat will follow us to school. It’s the time when I can see the edges of leaves become tinged with yellow and brown. It’s the time when the birds are too tired to call out a dawn greeting.
Over the last days of July and the first day of August, we spent some time with friends on their lake in Northern Wisconsin. We took a boat out one evening and paused before this giant tree to see an eagle’s nest the size of a small cabin. The eagle watched us as we watched the eagle. For a moment, I forgot about the heartbreaking silence of August.