Cats and Jammers Studio

The Oxford Project: I could spend years reading and looking at this kind of material

In past posts I have confessed to an obsession with the passing of time. I have had this obsession all my life. I am not sure why, but I have. On New Year's Eve, 1958, I wanted my grandparents to get me a jar with a lid.

"Why?" they asked.
"Because I want to save some some 1958 air," I told them. "Then I will have a little bit of 1958 forever."

When I look back on this memory, it makes me smile and shake my head at the way a kid's mind works--or at least the way MY mind worked. But I also still feel more or less the same way: very aware of the passing of time and wanting to preserve the present moment for future reference and for experiencing it once more. I guess you could say my little jar of air was my child's version of a time machine. But even though I am not filling jars with the air of time anymore, I still feel pretty much the same now as I did then. It's why I love antiques. It's why I play jukeboxes. It's why I will watch anything produced by Ken Burns. It is also why I read the obituary from my on line, home town newspaper every day: The Journal News, Rockland County section.

Yeah, I know. That sounds like something your grandmother would enjoy doing. Still, I do it. Everyday. Sometimes I see the names of parents of high school friends. Every now and then, I see the names of the high school friends themselves. Believe me, that is sobering. The strange part is that when I see no names that are familiar to me, I have a macabre sense of disappointment: no news, nothing of interest. And then, when I do, I wish I hadn't, because I would really have enjoyed seeing that person again at some point in the imaginary future, even though I have not spoken to him or her for that past 35 years.

One of the nice parts about reading obits is that I also check up on who else died, as reported by the Associated Press. In their little sidebar I learned that Killer Kowalski died even before I saw it in the Times. I learned that silent film star Anita Page passed away at 98. I read about famous Peanuts animator Bill Melendez. And I learned about the death of Jim Hoyt.

Who is Jim Hoyt? Jim Hoyt was the last surviving veteran of a group of four soldiers who liberated Buchenwald concentration camp. Jim Hoyt was a an extraordinary guy and an ordinary guy at the same time, because Jim Hoyt was part of a generation of countless soldiers who fought bravely and namelessly in a war unlike any other, where there was a clearly defined evil of great magnitude that needed defeating. Jim Hoyt lived a quiet life, was not a person of renown, and we would most likely never know about him except that he participated in The Oxford Project.

The Oxford Project, from an editorial quote on Amazon:

In 1984, photographer Peter Feldstein set out to photograph every single resident of his town, Oxford, Iowa (pop. 676). He converted an abandoned storefront on Main Street into a makeshift studio and posted fliers inviting people to stop by. At first they trickled in slowly, but in the end, nearly all of Oxford stood before Feldstein's lens. Twenty years later, Feldstein decided to do it again. Only this time he invited writer Stephen G. Bloom to join him, and together they went in search of the same Oxford residents Feldstein had originally shot two decades earlier. Some had moved. Most had stayed. Others had passed away. All were marked by the passage of time.

In a place like Oxford, not only does everyone know everyone else, but also everyone else's brothers, sisters, parents, grandparents, lovers, secrets, failures, dreams, and favorite pot luck recipes. This intricate web of human connections between neighbors friends, and family, is the mainstay of small town American life, a disappearing culture that is unforgettably captured in Feldstein's candid black-and-white portraiture and Bloom's astonishing rural storytelling.

You can visit the Oxford Project website and read some of the stories and see some of the pictures. That is where I went on to read about Jim Hoyt, who's obituary via AP I just happened to catch one day while checking the daily obits at the Journal News. I had never heard of Jim Hoyt, and I had never heard of The Oxford Project, but I am so glad to have discovered both of them. It is incredibly fascinating to see a picture of a person and a picture of the same person 20 years later. That kind of thing has always been my favorite part of the Ken Burns documentaries, and here is an entire book of aging faces, and what makes it even better is that these are ordinary citizens, living ordinary lives that are as meaningful and interesting as any celebrity or historical figure.

This book will be available on the 16th of this month. You can read more on the Amazon link. Needless to say, I have already ordered a copy. If I had thought about it, I would have created this book myself. It is, as they say, "right up my alley."

I do have one question for Stephen Bloom and Peter Feldstein: did you save any 1984 air?

EDITED TO ADD: Please take a moment to read the comment left by photographer and Oxford Project creator, Peter Feldstein. He shares a touching bit of information and an update on Jim Hoyt.

Bad Attitudes: Let Me at 'Em

There is a great essay by Margo Rabb in today's NY Times Book Review, called "I'm Y.A. and I'm O.K."

Essentially, Rabb writes about the need for publishers to pigeonhole writing as either adult or Y.A (Young Adult), the need for writers to pigeonhole other writers defined by the market they primarily write for, and the overwhelming desire on the part of many both in and out of the literary world to look down on those who choose to write for young people, period, as though it were something of lesser value. Since I am someone who is only interested in writing for young people, this is such a bizarre thought--that someone actually thinks that writing for the younger set is somehow not as great an endeavor.

I think I can get it with regard to the publishers. I understand the need to categorize something in order to figure out how best to sell it. We see that kind of thinking going on all the time in all walks of life. One need only take a walk through any department store to see how merchandise is presented. Never mind that you might find the identical merchandise in several different departments. Some years back one would say, "I bought this Mr. Tres Chic pocketbook in Filene's Designer section upstairs in the main store." Usually I was the person saying, "I bought this Mr. Tres Chic pocketbook downstairs in Filene's Basement, with 3 mark downs, even." Same bag. Just different audiences.

So, yeah, I’ll yield when it comes to selling the books. Money talks, and nobody walks from one floor to the other, so to speak. And, yeah, yeah, tons of people in my crowd will gladly read YA books as much as they enjoy reading books for adults, but I know damn well that there are people who would rather have root canal work done, than sit and read a book classified as YA. Of course, that group is made up of readers who are victims of their own narrow thinking. They are going to miss out on some wonderful books.

So, I get the ignorance. What I do not get is the bad attitude and need to condescend. That is borne out of stupidity and arrogance.

I don’t get it, but I deal with it and have dealt with it for years. It is the same song and dance I am familiar with after more than 25 years of being an illustrator. Want hear my “stories?” No? Too bad. I am telling them anyway.

1) Years ago, when my husband was a summer clerk at a Philadelphia law firm, we attended a party for the summer associates. One of the partner’s wives asked me what I do. I replied that I was a free lance illustrator. She then turned to a young attorney and said with "a certain tone" in her voice, “And what are you? A free lance lawyer?”

2) I was sitting at a large table at a firm affair and some asked me what I do. I replied that I was an illustrator. Her comment, “But you do you do any creative art?” My “by then seasoned bad attitude” reply was, “NO. I am completely mercenary. Like an attorney.”

3) Finally, here is one that was the worst of them all. Why? Because this was a bad attitude on the part of other artists, like the “averted gazes and unabashed disinterest” that Margo Rabb observed among other writers when they learned she wrote a book classified as “Y.A.”

Not so many years ago, I was at a party. Hey—social event. See a pattern here? Only difference was that this was not a bunch of lawyers, who really don’t know better much of the time, so I tend to forgive them. THIS was a bunch of “creative types.” This was an assortment of people who should have known better.

Anyway, someone introduced me to a couple.
“Barbara, meet so-and-so. They are artists, like you.”
“Hello,” I said. When I asked them about their work I found out that they were husband and wife landscape painters from nearby Cambridge, MA.
“And what do you paint?” they asked.
“I am an illustrator,” I replied. And before I could get a single other word out of my mouth about my work, they QUITE LITERALLY TURNED THEIR BACKS TO ME without a word, and walked away. Just like that. Forget that I was very successful at what I do. Forget that the kind of landscapes they paint would probably have me finding it more exciting to sit in my backyard and watch my suburban lawn grow. At the sound of the word “illustrator” they immediately deemed me unworthy. At a lower level.

Like writers who poo poo writing books for young people.

Like readers who poo poo writing and reading books for young people.

The older I get, the less I can tolerate bad attitudes. Too bad these things happened to me when I was much younger and, therefore, still polite. Not now. I am at the age where I will not suffer fools. Pity the poor jerks now. I like to think that I would eat them for breakfast.

I am very glad Margo Rabb wrote the essay. But I am totally pissed off at what she had to experience to make her want to write it. Makes me spittin’ mad. Furthermore, now that I think about it, what I would really like to know is: where are those self-important, jackass landscape painters, anyway? I have a few words for them….

Back to Business. Blogging Business.

Been a while since I blogged. That is because I was tied up. Tied up with family and work. The family part made me get behind in the work part. And the work part was a very detailed illustration job--the latest Bones book by David Adler. Don't get me wrong. I LOVED doing this book. I love doing all his books. But THIS one was very detailed and full of lots of things and people.

One thing I have managed to sneak in is my reading, so I thought I would share some of my thoughts about the wonderful books I have read lately. Click on the thumbnails for easier reading of the book covers.

To start with, the last book I mentioned was American Eve: Evelyn Nesbit, Stanford White: The Birth of the "It" Girl and the Crime of the Century by Paula Uruburu. This was a wonderfully told story of Evelyn Nesbit, her life and times, and her affair with Stanford White. Get it and read it. Not sure? To whet your appetite, check out book related postings over at YouTube. First there is a great podcast of an interview of the author by Bob Edwards, in three parts. Here is the first part. Then there are some nice book trailers to music that will entice you even more, like this one, this one, this one, and this one, my favorite. All of them are a little different with with reagrd to the music chosen. but they will all make you want to read the book. Make sure to watch the videos in high quality.

Here is also another nice interview with Paula Uruburu on the Leonard Lopate Show on WNYC.

For me, the story has also started a bit of an obsession, in that I now search for Evelyn Nesbit ephemera on eBay, and if it's one thing I do NOT need, it is yet another obsession to hunt obsessively for on Ebay.

It also made me want to rewatch the movie Ragtime, based on E.L. Doctorow's novel which I read in the 80's. That movie is an extremely pleasurable experience not only for it's success as a film, but for it's music, which was wonderfully written by Randy Newman. I just bought the soundtrack and it has inspired my husband to learn to play several of the numbers from the film on the piano. Now that wonderfully evocative Randy Newman music is being played over and over again by my other half, Phil Newman. The spirit of Evelyn and the era is taking over the house and our summer in many ways, and the notes are on my mind when I wake up in the morning and the postcards and images of Evelyn from all my eBay purchases arrive regularly in the mail. Here is a link to the movie trailer. And here is a link to some of the wonderful music by Randy Newman, although it is linked with a video about Edward Hopper.

In addition, a good part of that movie is shot in our old home town, Haverstraw, NY, with the back of my husband's family's old 19th century house and garage in plain view throughout most of the Willy Conklin scenes. So what am I buying on eBay now? Yup, you betcha. Old postcards of Haverstraw, NY.

But back to books. Of course, reading one book was not enough. I then turned to The Architect of Desire: Beauty and Danger in the Stanford White Family by Suzannah Lessard, who happens to be the great Granddaughter of Stanford White. It was a haunting memoir and it gave me an added perspective to the Nesbit/White saga. And so I lost myself in that.

But for some reason I next turned to a book about contemporaries of Evelyn Nesbit, but unrelated. And that was the story of Sara nnd Gerald Murphy. Everybody Was So Young: Gerald and Sara Murphy: A Lost Generation Love Story by Amanda Vaill, is the story oft two people who happened to find themselves in France at the center of the artistic universe in the 1920's. Surrounded by people like F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway and his wives, Pablo Picasso, Fernand Leger, Dorthy Parker, and Archibald MacLeish, just to mention a few.

And that led to even more books about the Murphys and their crowd, that I have gotten my hands on but not yet read.

In reading about the Murphy's and their wonderful years in France surrounded by creative people of all sorts, I found myself thinking about the fleeting nature of the moment, or the era. For Evelyn Nesbit it must have been standing at the top of the tower of Madison Square Garden, under the statue of Diana, holding the hand of Stanford White looking over the rooftops of the wonderfully exciting city of New York during a golden time. For the Murphy's it was the south of France in the 20's, before life turned tragic for them.

This is not the first time this has happened to me--where I have been obsessed with a period of time and the people who lived it. Thirty years ago I first became obsessed with the turn of the last century when I read Charmed Circle: Gertrude Stein and Company by James R. Mellow, followed by several biographies of Collette--the most recent not too long ago, Secrets of the Flesh: A Life of Colette by Judith Thurman.

I don't obsess about that period of time--1900-1930--in England. Nor any other countries or even cities. Just New York and France. And I like to read almost anything I can get my hands on about the time.

Now here is something. I just now discovered that an image of none other than Ms. Evelyn Nesbit was used on the cover of a collection of stories by Colette. Which is a fitting discovery to end this post. Now there is a connection between two people who have fascinated me and who lived the time, albeit a connection made today, quite by accident. Maybe. Or maybe not by accident. I could get a little flakey about this and say it has some cosmic meaning. A sign. A sign of what, I have no idea. I have had this obsession for close to 35 years. I like to look for things like that--signs, cosmic coincidences, connections.

Gee. Maybe I need to make an appointment with Dr. Brian Weiss, to revisit my stored memories of past lives.

Well, more about his books on my next installment.....

Before Miley, there was Evelyn...

Let me first admit to this:

I was one of the old fart parents who was so saddened to see the provocative photo of Miley Cyrus in Vanity Fair recently. To me, the picture was clearly sensuous in a way that it should not have been for a 15 year old. It's especially bothersome since I think that she is a quite talented and charismatic little performer, who has great comic timing and the chance to mature in into a comedienne of the first order in films and TV shows. As far as I am concerned she does not need to sell herself as sexy. Funny is sexy in a better way.

So, with that in mind, I found it ironic (or was it some sort of cosmos putting me in my place?) that my pre-ordered copy this book by Paula Uruburu arrived:

AMERCIAN EVE
EVELYN NESBIT, STANFORD WHITE
The Birth of the "It" Girl"
and the
CRIME OF THE CENTURY

For those of you unfamiliar with the story of Evelyn Nesbit, she was the first real American superstar and the first "media created" celebrity. The very abbreviated story goes like this:

The mother--Evelyn Florence Mackenzie Nesbit-- found herself impoverished in Pennsylvania when her lawyer husband died very suddenly, leaving his family penniless. During the next several years the mother and her two children shuffled around the state from relative to boarding house and back again until Florence Evelyn, the younger, who was always a strikingly beautiful little girl , is "discovered" by an elderly female artist in Philadelphia. Before very long, she is posing for painters in the area and is the sole support of her family.

They move to New York City, where she continues to pose for well respected artists such as Beckwith and Church and for those studying in such places as The Art Students' League. In addition, she is photographed. And that face becomes "the face" of the turn of the century on everything you can think of: magazines, newspapers, postcards, chocolates, calendars, soaps, and so forth. She is the inspiration behind the "Gibson girl." To say she epitomized a look of the times, is an understatement. She WAS the look and the face of the times.

Enter Stanford White, 48, renowned architect and lover of all things beautiful, including very young girls. He is also a New York celebrity in his own right and the creator of many buildings, including Madison Square Garden with its famous roof top theater and apartment.

Evelyn is seduced by Mr. White, at the age of 16 and they become lovers, while the undercurrent of the righteous right moralists do battle with what they perceive to be the debauchery of the era, which is really the pending end of the Victorian age. One member of this so-called group is millionaire playboy (it is assumed the term was actually coined for him) Harry. K. Thaw of Pittsburgh who is fascinated by Evelyn and sets out to win her affections, as much as he also sets out to destroy the likes of White, whom he perceives as his opponent in more ways than the mere vying for the attentions of Evelyn. After all, they don’t call him "Mad Harry" for nothing.

The rest of the story is that Evelyn does become Mrs. Thaw, and not too long afterward in 1906, Harry murders White in a very public setting because " he ruined my wife and my life." Thaw is eventually acquitted by reason of insanity. This affair preoccupied the public for several years, since the first trial ended in a hung jury. This entire affair was riveting for the public and was even more a part of the collective consciousness than the OJ trial.

The book and the story of Evelyn captivated me. I love that turn of the last century era. It also reminded me that girls are not really turned into sex objects any younger nowadays than they were more than a hundred years ago. Miley was 15 when that photo was shot for Vanity Fair by Annie Leibowitz. Evelyn’s pictures in very provocative poses (even more because of the times?) emerged at 14, 15, and 16. I’ve posted some here.

The book was a great read. I think it would be a very good older YA non-fiction read. The narrative of Uruburu marches the story along in a way that makes it feel so very relevant to present times and issues. I loved the way the author incorporated some of the slang of the era; it effectively put me in the 1900 mindset to hear certain phrases--many of which we still use today. She also successfully tells the tale in a manner that had me, the reader, standing right there, viewing the sad plot up close as it unfolds.

I guess I’ve come to realize that no matter how much in 2008 we think of ourselves as progressive, things are not really so different than they were a century ago. What I can’t decide, however, is if that thought makes me resigned, saddened, or relieved. Or none of those things. But it does fascinate me, that’s for sure.

Precious stolen moments with "The Book Thief"

I've been busy working.

Right now, besides my continuing kid work, my work is mostly about drawing. I've created the first round of sketches for the next Bones book by David A. Adler. And I am creating the art for a dummy book that goes with a brand new story, soon-to-be shopped around by my agent. Oh, I've not completely abandoned my writing. I ‘ve also started writing a brand new story called "Most Fickle" based on a true story about my husband and I that took place when we were in the ninth grade. And I have been doing revisions on my latest picture book manuscripts.

Still, mostly I have been drawing. And because I have been drawing I get to use the part of me that exists and draws from somewhere between my conscious and my subconscious brain. It's that same place that many of you go to when you drive to work every day, but you can’t remember how you got there-- you just drive by instinct. That is the place I draw and paint from. I think it's located nearer to my heart and farther away from my head. In this place my mind wanders, while my gut makes art.

But to go there to that place, I need to space out. The way I space out is to think about something else while I draw. Not while I create the initial layout, mind you. For that stage I have to “be there.” At that stage I need to think about the text and I need awareness and focus for that. But once I decide what goes where, where the page breaks are, and once I rough out the art--very roughly-- I space out. That is the time I take those very, very rough quick sketches and refine them, bringing them to a better level. My instinctive subconscious does that for me. My conscious head would get in the way.

How do I get to my Zen state? I think about other stuff. Sometimes it is a phone call with a friend, and sometimes it is TV. But lately, it is audio books. And I am now thoroughly addicted. Bless you, Audible.com.

Not long ago I finished listening to Rules of Survival by Nancy Werlin. That was very good. I got lost in that world and found the reader, Daniel Passer to be a very effective voice in putting me into the action.

I just now finished listening to The book Thief by Marcus Zusak. Literally, JUST NOW. The tears are barely dry in my eyes. The words of the story narrator, DEATH, will stay with me forever, as will the story itself and the characters and the setting that now is very real in my mind's eye. This book is the kind of poetic, literary substance that does not come along very often for me. The images and story took me away and rattled in my head, even after the drawing was done for the day and I was back to chauffeur mom and homework taskmaster. I found myself thinking about Liesel and Rudy and Papa and Rosa. I found myself calling people "auslach" (please pardon my spelling if I am off) which is German for "asshole."

This book went so far as to make me think about why I have come to enjoy writing as much as I haved always enjoyed drawing. It is THAT good.

I have to say, that after listening to the American accented Daniel Passer read “Rules” so nicely, I experienced some minor difficulty transitioning to the British accented Allan Corduner as he read The Book Thief. But once I got on board, I was carried away completely, and his ability to adopt German accents for the main characters and inhabit their voices and their world was just superb. Listening to him read this book has been a most enjoyable 13 hours and 56 minutes. And the time spent has not only been enjoyable from a literary point of view and a soul feeding point of view. It has been wonderful as a tool for de-stressing, as well as the key to unlocking the door to “that place.” . I have created a great deal of art while I listened, and the sketches I’ve done? Well, I think they are some of my best.

Can’t wait to download another and return to my private outer space….

Poetry Friday A day Early: Fireflies!

I am jumping the gun today.

First, I am jumping the gun on Poetry Friday because for the next two days, things are going to be even crazier around my house than usual. And that means, "Oh, boy." And since I have been meaning to blog about this book for a while, I figured I would just get a head start.

I am also jumping the gun because it is not yet firefly season yet up north (is it the season already down south?). In fact, the best time for them as far as I am concerned is right around the fourth of July, up in New Hampshire, where one recent year we had the experience of seeing the twinkling bugs in the bushes, while at the very same moments, there were fireworks in the sky all around the lake. It was spectacular!

When I was young and living in New Jersey, I have a vivid memory of warm summer nights and running around trying to catch what we called "lightning bugs." And then, many years passed, and it seems like I was always living in places forever where there were none. Was it that they weren't there or did my life become too busy and complicated to see them?

Because this feeling of having lost a simple pleasure and barely noticing it was gone (until fairly recently in New Hampshire) I have to write about Firefly Mountain, by Patricia Thomas.

This book brought back time and place for me, and I think of that as what perfect poetry should be: evocative and transporting. I am not sure whether or not the story was meant to be free verse, but this book so perfectly reads like a poem that I thought that poetry Friday was the ideal place to blog about it. The story is direct, unpretentious, and very accessible. I happen to like it when poetry succeeds without being esoteric and hard to reach.

Yet, even with its total simplicity, the voice and memory of the little girl narrator precisely sets the mood by conjuring up vivd imagery. The painterly illustrations are very subtle. So subtle, in fact, that they simply provide the perfect background music for the lyrics of Ms. Thomas' song, rather than "illustrate." Coming from an illustrator, I do not think I have ever felt that book art should virtually disappear into the background and not be narrative, but here I am saying that this book works very well because that is exactly what happens. Honestly, there are books that I love and that I wish I had created myself. (like Shivers in the Fridge). This is not one of those books, because my style of illustrating is to to assist in the telling of the story, not sit back and hum along. I could not work this way if I tried. Still, I love this book because of it. The illustrator of this book is Peter Sylvada. He has worked in many other venues, including, as I just discovered, illustrating operas! So I guess the analogy to music was appropriate! Another book to enjoy with art by Peter: A Symphony of Whales, written by Steve Schuch. Lush and tactile, Sylvada's paintings show the presence of his hand at work in a way that much book illustratiion does not. Personally, I love seeing the brush strokes in book art, which shouts undeniable evidence that "a human created this." I assume that the paints are acrylics or oils, but even if he "painted" digitally (done correctly it can look real), it is the best kind of digital.

Early this summer, when the season hits, and you find yourself thinking that you and the kids might enjoy some firefly (or lightning bug!) watching, take a look at this book. See if it doesn't make you want to lie back and relax, enjoy a glass of lemonade and just listen to the crickets, before you go off to run aournd in the dark, trying to cup your hands around the flashing bugs.

BTW, here is an interesting post and picture of lightning bugs.

The Official Getting Foolish Launch Day--No Foolin'!

Well, yesterday was the official publication day of my book: TEX & SUGAR: A Big City Kitty Ditty! And since it was April Fool's Day, I decided that it was especially appropriate to get very foolish.

The group of authors and illustrators that meets at my house once a month was in attendance. And even though we always talk business and industry scuttlebutt, we frequently get foolish, too. Yesterday was no exception. I had made sure to get get some cowboy hats and bandanas. And I made guacamole and served tortilla chips and assorted Salsa dipping sauces. Surprisingly, the giant pitcher of Cosmopolitans that I serve every month (there is a reason we call our group "SHAKEN, NOT STIRRED") went very well with Tex Mex cuisine. Who knew?

The best part of the day? My editor along with a fellow author and friend calling me from Virginia, and singing a duet over the phone of "HAPPY LAUNCH DAY TO YOU...HAPPY LAUNCH DAY TO YOU...."

So even though their web site went public on Friday, and the official launch was yesterday, Tex and Sugar get their day in the sun today.

I am grateful for Fuse 8's link of about a week ago, to the Name in Lights site. And so, without much further ado:

I got my name in lights with notcelebrity.co.uk

About Alice and also sleep

Between the NY Times Book review and blogs I enjoy reading regularly, I discover wonderful books that I want to get lost in. But I have a big problem: I have very little time for reading.

I have never been one who thought about listening to books, because I love to really read. But last summer my friend Janee Trasler told me about audible.com and it sounded enticing and like a great way to read books I can't fit into my schedule. I joined up right away, downloaded a good number of books and then proceeded to get sidetracked and forget all about them. Honestly, I think it did have something to do with the fact that I ALWAYS fell asleep everytime I tried to listen to Steve Martin read his own book, SHOPGIRL. Why is it that someone I never get tired of watching in a movie or seeing on TV, can lull me off to sleep with his reading voice? Sadly, I watched the movie, instead, and it made me realize that sometimes you can't listen to a book--you have to read it--or settle for the film.

But today I visited the audible site again, inspired by an offer to give me more credits, if I just used some of the ones I still haven't used. So off I went to download some more titles--this time a whole armload of books. I got everything from a three part bio of Charlie Chaplin to a two part bio of Dorothy Parker, plus a few YA's.

One of my downloads was Calvin Trillin's ABOUT ALICE, read by Mr. Trillin himself. It is a quick listen, and a loving portrait of a beloved wife. AND, best of all--I stayed awake! It successfully captured my mind while I worked on my artwork. I thought: so maybe if I listen to the right things I won't start sleeping.

In all fairness, Steve Martin isn't the only voice that makes me nod off. A couple of on-line courses I have tried to follow on lynda.com have done the same thing to me. And certain old boyfriends used to. And sometimes my husband still does. Sorry, Honey. Hey--maybe it is a male voice thing....

Now on to the remaining 20 books....

I wonder how many of them are read by women?

Almost time to celebrate....

UPS aside, I am very thrilled that I finally have copies of these new books. The new Bones book is my favorite to date. I enjoy doing these books by David Adler because these young mysteries are simple, yet fun and they often have little touches of dry adult humor. I like that he really knows how to paint the picture of a character in very few words of actions or dialogue. This new one has a another visit from "Not-me Amy," a character I really like. Actually, I like all of his characters. I am at work on Book 6 right now.

And then it is a true delight to finally have a box of my first book as both illustrator AND author. I have been showing my two little dog-eared advance copies to everyone, so now this means my parents can actually have a copy, my mother-in-law can get one, my husband can take one to work (should we start "TAKE YOUR WIFE'S BOOK TO WORK DAY"?), I can give a couple to good friends, and my son can take one to school. Working with Sterling has been a pleasure. And I am very happy with the quality of the scans and the print job. It was a very long pregnancy. I am glad this baby's has finally made his appearance!

I believe the Bones book is now out, as of February 15th. The Tex and Sugar book is not officially out until April 1st. Much to do before then to get ready to rock and roll at schools, libraries and book stores. If you live in Texas I will be at TLA on April 12th. I am excited to be seeing San Antonio for the first time and thrilled that Sterling will be sending me down there. What better place to go when you love everything cowboy? In June I will also be at the ALA conference in Washington , D.C. and I am looking forward to that trip, too.

On thing we are working on in this family is a BIG PUBLISHING PARTY to celebrate a year of hard work and the debut of the kitties. We think it calls for barbecue, pulled pork, Tex Mex cuisine (but of course!) , with a tent and country music. Here is one reason: this book started out as one of a collection of small poems I first wrote in 1982, pre kids. Since it was such a long time cookin', the celebration is sure to be a sweet one.

When? Probably early late May or early June. And the invitation will be open! So if you think you might be in the Boston area around then drop me an email. Put your suggestions in the box for the date. We'll need a head count. Everyone is welcome, we just need to make sure to have enough food. I

Of course, we will have country music. Anyone play? Care to perform? Let me know. Or, if you know someone whom you can recommend, we'll hire them.

Speaking of country music:

The Tatnuck Bookseller and Cafe will be holding a special Tex and Sugar day on April 19th, at 11 AM. It turns out that Miss Glori used to be a country radio music director, so there will be line dancing and great fun for all! Do you know how to line dance? Me neither. But I will learn on April 19th! And I will make sure to wear my cowboy hat. And you wear yours, too.

And if you have any ideas, questions, advice, or requests, please send them my way.

Wahoo!

I love that guy in brown

Oh, I LOVE my UPS man. He makes me smile. He brings great things to my doorstep.
I love him especially during December when the fruits of holiday shopping sprees arrive at about 6 PM. All that time saved by shopping on line makes me darn giddy, I swear, everytime he rings the doorbell.

I love it when he brings art supplies, like brand new Robert Simmons paint brushes and Acryla gouache. He keeps me working, I think. He helps me make the books...

And I especially like it when he brings things I really don't need, but get anyway, like white sound machines (still in box, unopened) and the occisional eBay purchase that is NOT shipped via the USPS. Just think, he carried in my Elvis Lamp, I can say with love in my eyes. He smiles and calls me by name: "Hey. Barbara, got something for you." Goody! I think. What can it be?

This week, GREAT STUFF.