This is an article in the local paper, The Leader, yesterday…
www.bclocalnews.com/richmond_southdelta/southdeltaleader/entertainment/96072354.html
My friend Amy sent this to me: http://vodpod.com/watch/3409792-bbc-news-world-news-america-why-do-finlands-schools-get-the-best-results
Amazing! Watch for the moment when the kids all head off on their own to X-country ski!
I so appreciate that they don’t start formalized learning until they’re seven. I wonder what are the numbers of prescriptions and LDs…
I’m thrilled–my new workshop site is up and running!
Thanks to Diane Askin at Netclimbers, a local Ladner website designer…she’s amazing.
Here we go! Writing for children, Advanced Novel, and Screenwriting with Amy Whitmore.
http://www.writerswebworkshop.com/
When it comes to writing for kids, this pic says it all–the best review…
In teaching, telling a story that asks a question, and doesn’t answer it, is good. And I’ve taken for granted that so is writing and story-telling. But it occurred to me to think that perhaps, sometimes, we struggle with stories that are responding to a question. I’ve thought–without really considering–that this can be a terrific way to begin the writing process: ponder a question you want answered, explore the answer. But what happens when we’re working with only the question as we write?
Sometimes, I’m writing and my story comes to an end long before I thought it would. And when that happens, I realize that I’m writing in response to a question, and not writing the question. The responding kills it.
Recently, I made an observation of homeschooled kids on a field trip. There was quite a group, mostly ages 9-12, at Fort Langley. (amazing docent, I must add, as an aside…because I’m partial to asides…) A number of these kids have never been in a classroom; some have; some know each other, and have for years; others–like my son–know a few faces from swimming classes, but that’s all. There was a point in the exploring of the Fort that it was necessary to line up to proceed through a doorway and on to the next building. Without talking about it, the kids lined up, single file, and crossed through and over. No big deal. Not for most people observing, perhaps. But for me, it staggered me, and my little world of elementary education.
I couldn’t help but think of the school classes I’ve been involved with these past two years, and the energies expended, the configurations, the reminders. And still, once the line is past the door, the single becomes double and treble across the hall, and oh the leaping to touch the overhead doorjamb, and the surreptitious poke at hallway artwork.
Right. I’m not going to respond to my question here. I’m going to think about it. Maybe at some point write about it. But there’s the question.
Now we’re past the first day of spring, and my thoughts go here 
…to hammocksville…my favourite summer place.
Where’s your favourite summer place?
Do you know that Canadians have an international reputation for NOT leaving comments on blogs?
Just thought I’d throw that at you… 
Wow. I’ve done it! I’ve learned something about iMovie, and I’ve made a trailer for my new novel, Molly’s Cue, out in May. 
I think this should be the new way to create those horrible “book reviews” we had to do as kids in school. I always loathed doing them; they ruined the reading experience for me. But thinking in terms of visuals/symbols, and linking them…now that might be fun!
The toughest part–but in many ways, most enjoyable–was finding images/photos that connected with the story and the characters. Then creating brief pieces of text. They say that you know whether or not a book can be turned into a decent film if you can make a visually-successful trailer.
Okay, here’s what I’m going to do: post the trailer here on my site and Youtube, and I’d like for you to view it, and list the ways that the pictures, the words, and any other elements connect with the book…which means you’ll read the book. The person who can come up with the most connections, I will send a signed copy. Anyone who makes a connection that I didn’t see myself–even if it’s the only connection they list–will also get a book! (So much of the writing process is sub- or un-conscious; sometimes the writer doesn’t recognize what seems obvious to the reader.)
My email is alison at alison acheson dot com. (Please do not post as a comment! A wise young fellow at Jarvis Elementary pointed out that if people DO post as a comment, then others can see the answers! So do send to my email…and I’ll post the winning answers!)
Let’s see what you can come up with!
The author would like to have gratefully acknowledged the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the British Columbia Council for the Arts in the writing of this story but, regretfully, is unable to do so, having been unsuccessful in her applications.
In spite of the lack of funding, she did pursue her artistic endeavours, if for no other reason than to vanquish their pursuit of her. She may have had to make some decisions; all decisions were made in an extremely competitive context. And all decisions were final.
(Hey! Can you spot the Council rejection phrases in the above…?)
It’s March. February slipped through somewhere. January, too. And I’d promised myself posts every two week.
I began to write a short novel (16000 words) on December 10, and gave myself two months to do it, 2 pages a day. But had a two-week-long task in January. The novel took two months and ten days to complete. It was born first as a picturebook…come to think of it, it was scratched out by hand, rough draft–very drafty–sitting in a chair outside the hotel room in Kelowna, with the smoke from the Glenrosa fire still thick in the air, morning after. I knew my son was safe, finally, and my other family members. (See post re: Glenrosa/July.) So already, there’s a recursive loop in my blogging. Yeah! A loop. We write to make loops, to try to catch things that are uncatchable. Or that run away from us.
I haven’t done as much writing before now as I have in this past year. A third of a novel through the fall (can’t wait to get back to it, though the subject matter frightens me), a re-write of another novel (now awaiting word…), this short novel, and now, a chapter book for Tradewinds…which just might be the first “funny” thing I’ve written. I’m having fun writing it, at least. Humour is a fingerprint, though. A bit slippery, too.
Marching along…
Okay. It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m getting older, and the payoff to ageing is supposed to be some acquiring of knowledge…with wisdom being the pot at the end of something.
The past two years I’ve learned a lot, possibly too much. I thought it’d be fun (right: my idea of fun is not much like anyone else’s) to attempt to sum…so here, the 10-1 countdown: (and if you’re in a happy place in your life, be thankful, and skip this entry)
10. Ask yourself why you’re unhappy where you are in your life.
9. Ask yourself if there’s anything you can do about it.
8. If the answer is no, change the answer.
7. Make every attempt to recognize happiness; it has a number of disguises. Sometimes it’s like Mr. Dressup.
6. Remember Mr. Dressup.
5. Know that you that you can actually live on one quarter of what you currently make. (It’s true; even if it’s one-quarter of nothing.)
4. When you find something that makes you happy (as in, satisfied), do it every day, even if it’s only for 15 minutes. It’s the every day part that matters.
3. Ultimately, this happy thing will bring you what you want. Other, less happy, things, won’t.
2. Other, less happy, things, won’t.
1. Read and re-read the picturebook Frank and Zelda, or Pizza for Breakfast. It was never meant for children. It was meant for adults who have given up belief in magic, and who don’t have a plan. Get a plan. Go back to #7 if need be.
Happy New Year!
I grew up making gingerbread houses every Christmas. Mom would make her own pattern, and all four of us would decorate it. It would be quite big and square and we would decorate with those “ribbon” candies…what are they called? Whenever I see them, I think “Christmas” and “fifties.”
After my first son was born, I began to make them. But when I made them as big as Mom’s, they’d flop to pieces. The icing glue never worked, and I lacked her patience with supporting the pieces with all manner of kitchen stuff. She was quite elaborate with folded kitchen towels and such…
So I made smaller houses, and as my sons numbered two, then three, I made another and another. Then one year I discovered icing made with only sugar and egg white: glue! And we made a small sleigh and reindeer.
In 2004, we went to the UK. Emmett had just turned five. Six months later, at Christmas, he suggested we make a castle…with a water wheel (he was so impressed by that wheel in the Welsh medieval village)…so we did. And we have until this year.
When I first suggested we make a lighthouse, he balked. But once we began to put it together, and began to decorate, the castle thoughts began to fly. When I said, “Maybe next year, we should try something else again,” he said a simple “Sure.”
Surely a year to leave routine behind…
What will it be?
