Young Adult and Children’s Literature
Wordplay: The Case for Ludic Poetry ~NEW~
Jest a Minute
by J. Patrick Lewis
“Ludic” means “game-playing.” Ludic poetry plays word games. Let’s get serious for a moment about wordplay. Some poets ridicule humor as being unworthy of poetry. Tickling the funny bone, they insist, merits instant exile from the high-minded salons of the genre. Equally offensive is the poet whose work is said to be “merely clever.” Poets may inhabit the only room in which cleverness is a calumny. But why object to cleverness?
Flooded with Understanding ~NEW~
Feature
by Tamara Ellis Smith
Flood water smells old. It smells like something decaying, like something that has been left out for too long, like a mix of oil and compost and mold. Flood silt is heavy. It sticks to everything it touches. A pair of blue jeans covered in it is almost too hard to carry. I know these things.
Marble Boys ~NEW~
Fiction Excerpt
by Tamara Ellis Smith
The dark sky poured rain on Zavion’s street. Only it wasn’t a street anymore. It was a river. The wind came again and Zavion’s hands shook as he gripped the wooden sill. He pressed his chin against his hands to still them, but then his chin shook too…
Keep Calm and Query On ~NEW~
This Writer’s Life
by Luke Reynolds
It strikes me now that this is excellent advice for a writer. If you love the way words sweep, sleep, or creep together, then chances are you’ve hit your moments of crisis. Perhaps you’ve hit that wall where you sit down at your computer, and all your brain can say to your fingers is, It ain’t happening today, man. No way, no how.
What My Last Book Taught Me
by Audrey Vernick
The books and films I love would all be described as quiet. So it was not a huge surprise that when I finally got around to writing a novel, it, too, would be described as quiet. What was a surprise was learning that quiet is very bad. Or at least unpublishable. As lessons go, that was about as unfun as they get…
With Love From: Off the Grid
This Writer’s Life
by Lisa Railsback
It’s a quirky world here that never fails to surprise me, or bewilder me, or make me laugh. Life here is a daily Zen practice, without going on a meditation retreat.
The Thing about Grace
Feature
by Barbara Shoup
I took pages and pages of notes during my two-day visit: “handcuffs in a bin, steel bed with no mattress, bookshelves in the day room with (not many) battered books and board games, punishment: copy sentences from rule book, single plastic bin under their bunk holds all they own, plastic rosaries allowed.”
The Daily Inch
INKlings
by Lori McElrath-Eslick
Almost two years ago, a heart aneurysm—the kind that killed actor John Ritter—almost killed me. It was found in a routine heart scan, when the doctor looked closely at a narrow valve I’ve had since birth…
Myself Behind Myself
Fiction
by E. Kristin Anderson
In my dreams I am a ghost. I enter locked rooms and watch a sleeping dog. The dog raises his head, barks at me…
Hunger Mountain Interview: Q & A with Sara Zarr
Industry Insider
by Bethany Hegedus
How to Save a Life was born from a writing exercise, a simple “write for twenty minutes about a scene involving…” kind of prompt. My other books—particularly Sweethearts and Once Was Lost, the two I wrote before How to Save a Life—were based on some pretty personal experiences. I think I just had fun with this one, with the creating and the figuring out and getting to know the characters. Which isn’t to say that the writing wasn’t hard. It’s always work…
Wake Up, Stupid
What My Last Book Taught Me
A Look into Now Playing: Stoner and Spaz II
by Ron Koertge
I write fiction, and fiction is where things happen. Ben and Colleen struggle; they misunderstand; she breaks promises; he takes a step into the waters of high school instead of just standing on the shore. She vows to never smoke weed again. They make love; she disappears, then reappears, penitent. But at the end of Stoner & Spaz, she leaves Ben for a cute guy in a Camaro who’s on his way to a party.
Out on the Bendy Branches
Feature
by Lindsey Lane
We are explorers. This means we will always be slightly off-balance. This means we will write from a place of discovery. This means we will always be caught in what I have come to know as the growth spiral.
#yamatters
In Response
Andrew Karre
I’ve made the joke several times that there are two sure-fire ways to drive traffic to a blog or newspaper website. Barely informed speculation about a new Apple product is the first. Second is a half-baked analysis of the state of YA literature (“Think of the children!”). Sometimes this joke gets laughs. Sometimes crickets. I believe now, however, that the parallel with Apple is more than superficial and comic
The Screaming Divas
Fiction
by Suzanne Kamata
Sometimes, when she found herself alone, she’d go out walking around. As she passed each house, she’d make up a little story about the people who lived there. She could sometimes see them through the windows, especially at night when the houses were lit up and she was covered by the dark. They’d be watching TV or having dinner or reading the newspaper.
Him
by Heather Smith Meloche
Winner of the Katherine Paterson Prize for YA and Children’s Lit
“From the start, Him, took me to a different world. The writer is one of those rare talents who can create a realistic setting and characters with few words. Aside from those attributes, I felt an instant compassion for the flawed main character, despite her bad choices. That is no easy task. Bravo!” —Kimberly Willis Holt, 2011 judge
Forty Thieves and a Green-Eyed Girl
by Christy Lenzi
Katherine Paterson Prize Category Winner, Middle Grade
“The opening of the story manages to show a lot without the reader feeling overburdened. I quickly cared about the main character because of the way she interacted with her brother on page one. And because I cared about her, my heart pounded for her when she was in peril. That’s important when trouble comes so early in a story. Some writers expect readers to care just because the main character is in trouble, but you have to care about them first. This writer accomplishes that.” —Kimberly Willis Holt, 2011 judge
Cesar
by Betty Yee
Katherine Paterson Prize Category Winner, Writing for Younger Children
“The writer tells a short story which includes a strong opening, an interesting situation, realistic dialogue, and a relatable main character. The simple story is told with clear focus as it works its way toward the outcome.” —Kimberly Willis Holt, 2011 judge
Writing From Both Sides of the Brain
Feature
by Kelly Barson
Because words and writing, in general terms, are the left brain’s domain, is it any wonder that when I sit down to write, my left brain (the bossy, articulate Nigel) declares, “Oh, writing! I got this!” And then I wind up with flat two-dimensional writing as interesting as my childhood house picture. Since there is nothing actually wrong with the writing (or the picture)—it is distinguishable; it just isn’t good—fixing it, or even recognizing it, can be difficult.
Teaching, Writing, and the Practice of Illusion
by Uma Krishnaswami
Introduction to the Flipside
Practice. I love that word. In the chaos of markets and sales and subrights and the hotly debated future of the book, practice is the only truth. It’s an island you can return to, to make yourself real again. Which is, speaking entirely selfishly, the reason I teach at all. It makes me want to keep writing.
The True Confessions of a New and Newbie Teacher
by Debby Dahl Edwardson
Flipside
Confession 5: In the end, it all comes down to that dose of generosity…. A teacher needs a good dose of generosity, and generosity feels good on both the giving and the receiving ends.
Making a Community that Promotes Creativity
by Sarah Aronson
Flipside
My best teachers have been humble ones. When they ask us to jump off a cliff, they jump, too. My best teachers are honest about their own careers, the hardships of writing, and the surprises that stem from engaging every day in a process of discovery. They lead by example. They work hard every single day to develop their craft.
The Perks of Being Bipolar
by Bobbie Pyron
Feature
Writing is a tough business for someone with any kind of mental illness, but it’s particularly tough for people with illnesses that fall along the bipolar spectrum. It’s a business that’s bipolar in its own way. It’s full of soaring highs (that first “yes” from an editor or agent) and crushing lows (I don’t need to spell those out).
It’s the End of the World as we Know it (and I Feel Fine)
by Kirsten Cappy
Industry Insider
It does not take real courage to sit in my office and dream up a middle school reader engagement project for a dystopian novel. Well, not until the librarian who is actually going to do the “engaging” part gets pneumonia. It is May and I sit before blank-faced 6th- and 7th-graders with Angie Smibert’s Memento Nora (Marshall Cavendish) in my hand, wondering where I left my flamethrower.
The Stage Manager
by Jennifer Hubbard
Fiction
When my father was still ambulatory (a word he taught me), I never knew exactly what the house would be like when I got home. Once, I found giant potted plants in every room (“It’s good to have some greenery around,” Dad said). Sometimes he’d dress up in costumes, lip-synching to opera on the radio. He was constantly moving the furniture around. One time, I couldn’t find my bed at all.
A Cut-Out Face
by Mima Tipper
Fiction
I don’t see her on the bike path until the snow melts. Then, there she is. A cut-out face—razor sharp, black and white spray-paint on pavement—the word “Persuade” printed underneath. I don’t stop. Why would I stop for some painted face?
