Top Ten: The Library!

Adelanto Branch Library

(it looks a little different now from when I was growing up.

It has been remodeled since I was a kid but still brings back great memories)

Why I LOVE My Local Library.

(and all libraries)

No Secrets. No Lies. Part One

Photo taken from this site

Life in a Telepathic Society

What would life be like in a society where your thoughts and feelings were an open book for all to read? Where nothing is kept secret and concealing was a sin beyond any forgiveness? Would you feel free, safe, hindered or confined? What kind of laws would govern such a society, where lies are unheard of and crimes are but few and frivolous? Would there even be a need for laws? I would say yes, wouldn't you? You see every society needs laws to govern it, to run smoothly, to maintain order and stability and to avoid civil unrest and anarchy. Even the most ideal and utopian worlds would crumble without defined rules and regulations.

Take the sky communities of Naqaba. Their cities are high in the sky protected by atmospheric cloud fields. They are home to the Naqabashi clans; tribes of bold, fearless winged female warriors who were once members of the traveling nomads who crashed onto the planet many centuries ago. A severe mutation from the Naqaban atmosphere caused them to transform into the creatures they are today. Though they appear alien to their Naqaban land dwelling relatives, they still have unique humanoid features that allow them to still inter-marry and interbreed with the male dwellers. Twice the size of an average female, they stand over seven and half feet with a wing span of over four feet. The Naqabashi are vicious when provoked. Five sharp talons grace each hand strong enough to rip through flesh and crush the skull of any beast or man. They are the Amazonian warriors of their galaxy, feared and for the most part, avoided at all cost. Brutality wasn't the only thing the Naqabashi acquired from their mutation; they inherited telepathic abilities. Telepathy allows a telepathist to communicate to one another by means other than speaking with their mouths or hands. They are also capable of reading and interpreting the thoughts and feelings of other telepathists and non-telepathists. This alone gives the Naqabashi a greater advantage over their enemies.

Despite their brute size and fierce nature, they run a highly efficient and self-sustaining community. Their cities are filled with peace, harmony and vibrancy. While every Naqabashi is considered equal to one another, a well-defined hierarchy of authority is observed . A queen warrior is counseled by a group of elder Naqabashi warrior priestesses from each sky community. Naqabashi elite guards protect the cities and train future warriors. Newly crowned Naqabashi guard the low grounds and serve as apprentices to elite guards. Young Naqabashi grow the food and tend to the livestock while injured or pregnant Naqabashi produce the weapons used by the Naqabashi warriors. The elderly Naqabashi who can no longer fight or fly spend their final days in peace, teaching and grooming the young. Every Naqabashi has a role in her society. The laws of their world are instilled at birth. Every Naqabashi toddler can recite the laws by heart when her babbling thoughts become coherent and intelligible. While they have many laws and rules to regulate their society, one motto stands above all else, "NO SECRETS. NO LIES." This motto alone will prove why even in utopian societies, every one needs some sort of rule or regulation to retain law and order.

Next week, we will rendezvous with Nusa, a Naqabashi warrior currently traveling aboard the ship, Hablas. She will enlighten us more on what life is really like in a telepathic society.

Until then......... What kind of laws do you think govern a telepathic society?

Copyright © 2011 SN Taylor, All Rights Reserved

SCBWI Conference Treasures

Here is a peak at one of my many treasures acquired at the SCBWI conference! :D This cute rendition of the "Wheels on the Bus," is authored by a local Seattlite! I am going to love reading this to my little ones as the song is their favorite circle time song! Check out her website here.

Why write? Why publish?

I recently attended the best conference ever! The Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators conference was held in Redmond Wa, this year. I learned so much over the course of the weekend. So much that I am still digesting it all! I seriously had a headache the following Monday! LOL But the conference was everything I could ever imagine it to be. Everyone was so nice, helpful and supportive of each other. The keynote speakers were for the most part all very talented and very motivating. One of the speakers was the creator of the cartoon, The Replacements! One of my favorite cartoons of all times! (Yes, I still watch cartoons <.<. don't judge me :p) Dan Santat's story along with Deborah Wiles' story proved that with hard work, dedication and true love for what you believe in, you will succeed.

One of the speakers posed a question, why do you write and said that if the only reason you are writing is to simply get published, then you are writing for the wrong reason. That struck a chord in my heart. Why do I write. Honestly, I really don't care whether I get published or not. Fame and fortune are not a high priority for me. Truthfully, I love my day job. I love working with young children. I love that I am a part of shaping the lives and early education of these young children. So why do I write. Why do I want to be a published author of children's books? I write so that my stories can touch the lives of children everywhere. As much as I would love to meet every child, love every child, care for every child and educate every child, I physically can not do it. But if my stories can enter their homes, schools, childcare centers or libraries, then I feel like my role as a loving teacher and caregiver will be fulfilled.

So why do YOU write? What is your motivation for being a published author?

Favorite Poem #3

This fun poem was read at one of sessions at the SCBWI conference I attended this past weekend. It is by George Ella Lyon, Where I'm From. Enjoy! One of these days, I will try my hand at a 'where I'm from' poem. :D

Where I'm From

I am from clothespins,

from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.

I am from the dirt under the back porch.

(Black, glistening,

it tasted like beets.)

I am from the forsythia bush

the Dutch elm

whose long-gone limbs I remember

as if they were my own.

I'm from fudge and eyeglasses,

from Imogene and Alafair.

I'm from the know-it-alls

and the pass-it-ons,

from Perk up! and Pipe down!

I'm from He restoreth my soul

with a cottonball lamb

and ten verses I can say myself.

I'm from Artemus and Billie's Branch,

fried corn and strong coffee.

From the finger my grandfather lost

to the auger,

the eye my father shut to keep his sight.

Under my bed was a dress box

spilling old pictures,

a sift of lost faces

to drift beneath my dreams.

I am from those moments--

snapped before I budded --

leaf-fall from the family tree.

Listen to the poem read by George Ella Lyon, here.

Favorite Poem #2

Have you ever wondered what things might have been if you had made certain choices that were different from the ones you made in the past? I often wonder where would I be now, what would I be doing now, how different would my life be IF I HAD TAKEN THAT OTHER ROAD? This poem really hit home and got me to thinking. Growing up, I wanted to explore the ocean floor, then I wanted to be a computer scientist and at one point, I wanted to be an astronomer and work for NASA. Don't get me wrong, I love where my life has taken me, the things I have done, the places I have visited and the friendships I have made. But I do still wonder about the road not taken.....

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Taken from http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/robert_frost/poems/528

Great Motto to Live by.....

Cherish yesterday, Dream tomorrow. Live today.

I found some really great post today surfing my usual channels, twitter, favorite blogs and websites.

With internet and social media becoming a big target of bullying and abuse of young children, tweens and teens, it is so important that parents train their children to be better digital citizens. Check out Annie Fox's blog as she encourages parent's to pledge to raise a responsible digital citizen. Follwer Annie Fox on twitter and via her blog, lots of great stuff there. :)

I have always found a lot of great tweets from @editorialdept and today read a really nice and fun article on editing and becoming an editor. Go over to their website to read, "So....you wanna be an editor?" Pt 1 I personally would like to become better at editing my own work before submitting for professional editing. This post gave me lots of hope and optimism. :)

I only recently found the website and blog of the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators in Western Washington. I found out about the upcoming conference they are having here in Washington and now I follow them on twitter and check out their blog post daily. I love it that they are slowly introducing us to the speakers and faculty of the upcoming conference. Today I read a Q&A about Tina Wexler it was fun a fun read. For more updates and info on all the exciting happenings and events in Western Washington, go to Chinook Update blog.

Here is a new website I found that is super awesome and chock full of tidbits, morsels and down right mouthfuls of info for aspiring authors, like myself! It is the website of Cynthia Leitich Smith and YA Literature Resources.

It's Spring!

You know its spring

when little birds sing,

and the morning dew is new.

Spring is here

when blossoms appear,

and the rising sun brings cheer.

Spring has definitely arrived

when bees buzz in their hive,

and winter's frost is all but lost.

Copyright © 2011 SN Taylor, All Rights Reserved

*Inspired by a little bird chirping at my window :)

Favorite Poem #1

Here is a poem by a fabulous poetess Maya Angelou, "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings." I love her poems. They are strong and full of emotion. As I read this poem something in me clicked. I connected right away to it. There are days, when I am at my lowest that I am that caged bird.

I know why the caged bird sings by Maya Angelou

A free bird leaps on the back

Of the wind and floats downstream

Till the current ends and dips his wing

In the orange suns rays

And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage

Can seldom see through his bars of rage

His wings are clipped and his feet are tied

So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill

Of things unknown but longed for still

And his tune is heard on the distant hill for

The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze

And the trade winds soft through

The sighing trees

And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright

Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams

His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream

His wings are clipped and his feet are tied

So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with

A fearful trill of things unknown

But longed for still and his

Tune is heard on the distant hill

For the caged bird sings of freedom.

taken from Famous Poets and Poems . com

Little Bird

pic taken from Bird Clipart.com

A little bird sat on my tree branch.

It ruffled its feather and fluttered its wings,

It lifted its head and began to sing.

Night is done and the sun is arise,

Wake up, wake up, rub your sleepy eyes.

(c) April 2011

Birthday Blog Bash!!!!!

Break out the streamers, pop open the fun.... Let's all give my amazing blogger buddy and inspiration, Karen Strong, a GREAT BIG.....

Hope you have an awesome weekend of celebrations Karen!!! :D

“There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.”

~Sophia Loren

April Showers bring May flowers.

Though April Showers may come your way, they bring the flowers that bloom in May,

So if it's raining have no regrets; it isn't raining rain you know, it's raining violets...

Al Jolsen, April Showers

How true this poem rings, especial in the region where I live. It feels like it rains almost everyday. As I work in childcare, going outside is a MUST for the health and well-being of the children and teachers. But when it's soggy and wet outside it means 15 minutes putting on rain gear and 25 minutes taking them off and possibly changing into dry clothes. But then I have to remember, it is the rain that we are blessed with which makes the Northwest region so pretty and green. Spring out here is so beautiful with it's variety of colors and blooms. So yes, Al Jolsen, it is not just raining water (the very life source of all things living), it is raining violets, pansies, roses, tulips, daffodils, daisies, lilies and more!

In the News:National Poetry Month!

April marks National Poetry Month!!! It also marks the 7th annual Islamic Writers Alliance Poetry Contest. Starting from April 1st to the 30th, send in your submission to poetrycontest@islamicwritersalliance.net The theme for this year is open and contest guidelines can be viewed here please be sure to follow the submission guidelines on the site.

Also in celebration of National Poetry Month, I will showcase a variety of my fave poems and poets, quotations about poetry, I will also include both my own poems and perhaps a few guest poems from some incredible poet friends. :)

April will be,

a time to write,

a time to share,

a time to feel,

a time to motivate.

April will be,

a time to dream,

a time to live,

a time to create,

a time to achieve.

I Love.....

I love the smell of wet earth and fresh air after it rains.,

I love the sounds of sweet chatter of birds singing to the rising sun.

I love the feeling of soft warm sandy beach under my feet and between my toes.

I love the beautiful red glow of a fading day.

I love the taste of nature and all her culinary seasons.

I love the heartfelt embrace at the end of each journey.

I was Inspired....

After a long and stressful work week, my weekend got off to a great start! I went to my first slumber party (in aaaggeeesss!!! :D) A group of friends got to gather at another friend's house for a farewell sleep-over for a friend leaving to study abroad. We spent the night eating, dancing (off the food), movie watching and talking, talking, talking until the wee hours of the night. I was actually the first one to drop off to sleep! The next morning we had a big breakfast and skyped with the hostess's sister. I found out she co-authored a book at the age of 10 with published author, Robert Munsch, called "From Far Away." I was so amazed with her story of how and why the story book came about. She is also in the process of finding a publisher for her second manuscript. I was inspired to keep up my own love of writing and reaching out to realize my dreams. :)

Later that day, my family and I went to see Tangled. It was a great twist of a favorite fairy tale. :) As I watched the movie, I began to notice the secondary characters in the story. I loved the chameleon, Rapunzel's little sidekick. After the movie was finish, my sister and I got to talking about our favorite sidekicks of all the movies we loved; Aladdin and Abu, Mulan and Mushu (and cricket), Shrek and donkey, and now Rapunzel and Pascal. I love the dynamic relationship between of the hero/heroine and their sidekick. Even though the sidekicks role in the story was usually not center staged, their role and relationship was extremely important. I was inspired by the character, Pascal, to go back and look at my book characters, especially the sidekicks and secondary characters. Not so much to give them a bigger role in the story but to strengthen their relationship with the main character and the story.

During the short few hours between my morning breakfast with friends and Tangled fun, I got online to check mail and blog hop. I read Karen's Operation 50/50 success. I was inspired. I decided it was time to get back into the habit of writing. Five hundred words a day. Whether towards a story or simply blogging, I would write five hundred words a day.

Is it April yet?

I am sooooo excited. I will be attending this conference (God-willing) in April. Thanks to Heather Mccorkle, I found out this was happening in my state of residence! I have wanted to go to an SCBWI conference for a very long time, but they were always out of state which meant not only money for the conference but for airfare, food and lodging as well. It was an expense I could not afford at the time. But now it is happening write (yes, I meant to write that) here in my backyard! :D I'm so excited!!!!!!

To Read a Book....

To read a book for the first time is to make an acquaintance with a new friend;

to read it for a second time is to meet an old one.

~Chinese Saying~

When I go back and read the books I read as a child, there is always a flood of fond memories of summer, reading with my mom and being in the library. :)

Flower Song

clear blue skies,

soft gentle breeze,

fresh scented petals,

lazy daydreams fly away,

he loves me, he loves me not....

flower song.

Calvin on Writing!!!

I love Calvin and Hobbs!!! I saw this while googling for a pic and found this. :D He is too cute. :D

The Write Kind of Relationship.

I learned recently, without a shadow of a doubt, there is a relationship between a writer and his/her characters. This relationship is all about compromise. At least it is for my and my characters. All this time, I thought I was the head honcho, the queen of the roost, the one who called all the shots and scene calls. Ha! Shows how much I know about the wonderful world of writing. My characters have a way of getting what they want and when they want without me being the wiser.

When I begin a story, it usually starts off as an idea, a whim or from an experience that happened in my daily life. After the idea, I jot down a brief (very brief) paragraph of what the story will be about and then from there, the story sort of takes off. Most of the time, I get from a to b without too many problems from my characters. But I guess sometimes they get restless and start trying to take over my story. But they do it in a very sneaky way, with hints, whispers and some times outright mutiny! For example, I have my story all plotted out and have a certain scene planned but as I get to the climax, my characters just don’t go with the flow. Now, more often than not, I love the direction they take my story. To give them credit, they are often subtle in their take-over, which is probably why I never see it coming! AND, they never brag how they made my story better or ever try to take credit. So, I always think I created a fun/great/wonderful story.

And then there are those times when a story seeks me out. Now these characters are usually less subtle than the others. They have a story they want to tell and they hardly ever take no for an answer and they make sure I understand that. Again, don’t get me wrong; they aren’t arrogant, just determined. I don’t get these intrusions on a regular basis (thank God!), as you will understand from the example I give below.

A couple nights ago, I got home really late from a lecture. I checked my email, ate a little snack, said my prayers and went to bed. Just as I closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths and thanked God for the wonderful day (and week) he blessed me with, I began to hear a soft voice, the voice of a character trying to tell a story. I was so tired and had no energy to hear another story that night (heard quite a few good ones at the lecture J) so I tried to hush the story-teller. “Go away,” I try to tell her, “We can discuss your story tomorrow.” As docile as many of my characters are, they can be a bit intrusive and annoying when I am trying to sleep! They don’t like being hushed, ignored or pushed away. When they have a story, they want my full, undivided attention right away. Because let’s face it, my memory is not what it used to be. I have been known to forget my promise of “writing their stories in the morning,” upon waking up the next day. I am forgetful and they know it! You have no idea how bad I would feel for forgetting their stories and breaking a promise. So the voice of the story-teller got louder. Then this young woman holding a baby appeared in my thoughts. I was not going to get any sleep any time soon. Between looks of hurt, fear and desperation, she forced me to listen to her. She convinced me her story was important and demanded my attention. That and she made it clear she was not leaving until her voice was heard. So I cut out a deal with her just as her baby started to get fussy and her eyes dilated as she focused on something behind me. The deal was, I jot some notes to help me remember her story and she would leave (with her strange baby) and let me sleep. She seemed a little hesitant at first but seeing as I was half sleep and getting more tired, she agreed. I really needed my pillow but I got up with my pen and paper and wrote down about two paragraphs. So this is what I got from her…(remember, I was half sleep when I jotted this all down!)

Hida’s home world is ravaged by INFANTry Wars. The government is using the brains of infants to hide secret codes of war and destruction. Recently widowed, Hida finds that everywhere she goes with her infant, death and destruction follows them. She is not sure what is going on but she senses a dark presence around her family and home, especially after she comes home one day to find her father unconscious and her home ransacked and burning. Her father’s secret lab had been set on fire when the intruders did not find what they were looking for. Hida’s nightmare all started after her husband mysteriously died after he defected from the oppressive and corrupt military of the Cyberbotic League and her baby went missing for two days only to be returned to her unharmed. The daughter of a disposed government scientist and the wife of a defector, Hida is on the run. Someone is after them. She has many times caught the glimpse of a shadowy figure following her. But the scary thing is, wherever she goes, there is an explosion of cataclysmic results. Trails of death seem to lay in their wake. City after city she runs with her family barely staying ten steps ahead of the secret forces after her. She receives help from the underground, rebels fighting for justice and eradication of the cyberbotics, intelligent robots used to replace human government and military officials and soldiers. But as their hideouts are being wiped out, the rebels begin to suspect Hida and her family. Soon she is running from the rebels who think she is a spy and the Cyberbotics who want her infant and what is contained in her baby’s brain, secrets that could tip the tide of war in their favor.

Well, that is what I can remember of that evening. She left and I got my much-needed sleep. I am actually rather lucky. My characters are quite reasonable and easy to work with. Our relationship is all about helping, cooperation, respect and compromise. That is what makes us great together. (Unless of course they are determined to keep me awake at night! :/ )

So tell me, what kind of relationship do you have with YOUR characters? :)

Happy Writing!

Quote of the Day: A house without books...

Photo taken from here

A house without books is like a room without windows.

~Heinrich Mann~

Live and re-live countless lives!

Anyone who says they have only one life to live must not know how to read a book.

~Author Unknown~

This is so true. A really great book draws you in and makes you apart of the adventure. Which is probably why I love Science Fiction/Fantasy novels and short stories. I get to explore new worlds, cultures, civilizations that I would otherwise never get to explore. I honestly can't say if I would have the courage to get on a spaceship and "go where no man has gone before!" I get tense as it is getting on an airplane to travel to another state! But a book gives me all the sensory exploration of a new world and the adventures that go with getting lost at sea, or being chased by aliens or thwarting hostile plots and take overs. I also love mystery novel, adventure novels and detective novels for this very reason. So the next time you are looking for a wonderful adventure that wont break your budget (or bones in any way :D) pick up a book! Live and re-live countless lives.

February 2011 Blog Award

This post is not about me....It is about YOU...awesome bloggers!!!

I'm late this month getting out the shout outs for all the wonderful blogs I am fortunate to have found. This month's award is an AWESOME award which goes to a group of bloggers who have inspired me to get off my toush and be more proactive in my writing goals.

Musings of a Novelista I love Karen's blog/website. She is so full of wonderful tips and insights. I love how she shares her experiences with us and is never short of encouragement! :) I am always inspired to get back to writing (or at least thinking) after reading her blog posts. Thank you Karen! I'm so glad to have met you (even if it is in cyberspace :D)

This next AWESOME blog is actually written by a group of wonderful writers, however, I follow Katrina L Lantz who is a member blogger of Operation Awesome. I really like this blog. They offer lots of fun contest for serious writers, blog/author interviews, great tips and advice and fun to read and think about post.

Heather's Odyssey Now this blogger is just wonderful. Not only does give excellent tips and heads up on agent/publisher related news (love her twitter Tuesday posts :D) but she is an awesome writer, just check out her Friday Feature Creature posts! :D I was inspired by Heather's awesome conference report and enthusiasm from what she learned at the conference she recently attended. I decided to take the first step in my writing career and register to attend my very first conference this coming April! :D

So, if you are looking for some wonderful blogs to follow, check out these wonderful ladies of the blogosphere.

Just Sitting

Just sitting.

In a crowded room, I am alone.
Noise all around, but I hear nothing.
I just sit.
Waiting.
Listening.
Until I find my voice.

(C) 2011

Tears.....

Plight of a Lost Child

A break from my story, here is a poem I wrote some time ago.

Snowtrapped!

Chapter One: Avalanche

The wind blew hard against the cabin window. Outside, a storm had picked up and dumped ten inches of snow on the mountain resort causing all activities to be canceled. Amana lay curled up in her bed. She listened as her roommates giggled and whispered to each other. One of the girls, Meg, smuggled in a playgirl magazine. Meg gave her free use of her iphone to keep quiet. Amana rolled her eyes and returned to her myspace page.

“Update” she typed, “I’m still stuck on Prison Mountain, aka, winter camp.” More giggles. “But thanks to this storm, I may get to come home early!”

Just as she typed her last sentence, the cabin shook violently, as if a car slammed into their cabin. Meg and the girls screamed; Amana jumped out of her bed, dropping Meg’s phone.

“Allah!” she screamed, “what was that?”

The girls huddled together watching the ceiling light swing back and forth. Amana’s phone rang making the girls jump again. She rushed over and answered it.

“Amana,” her brother shouted into the phone, “get out of there. We are leaving.”

“What?” she said, “what is going on?” she asked.

Little Moon

“I’m bored,” sighed little moon, “I want to play.”

He looked around to find someone to play with. He saw the earth, spinning around and around. That looks like fun, he thought.

“Can I play with you?” he asked Earth.

“Oh, I’m not playing,” earth said. “If I stop spinning, there will be no day and night; plants and animals will die because nothing will be able to grow.”

Earth continued to spin while Moon looked for a friend.

Soon, Uncle Cloud and Auntie Rain floated by.

“Greetings Uncle Cloud and Auntie Rain,” moon said politely. “Can you play with me?” he asked.

“I’m sorry little moon,” Uncle Cloud replied, “we can’t. I have to carry Auntie Rain to the towns and farms.”

Moon looked sad. “Just for a little while,” he asked hopefully.

Auntie Rain smiled. “Perhaps another time Little Moon. If we don’t go now, the land will become dry and the crops will die and man will suffer hunger and drought. You don’t want that do you?” Auntie Rain asked.

Moon thought about it, “No, I don’t,” moon replied.

Uncle Cloud and Auntie Rain said goodbye and continued on their way.

Moon continued his search for a playmate. Moon saw some stars dancing and twinkling in the distance. Some were bright and some were faint. Moon waved, jumped and yelled to get the stars attention, but they were much too far and busy playing to see or hear him. Moon sighed. Suddenly a streak of like caught his eye. It was a comet passing by.

Moon shouted to the comet. “Hi friend, do you want to play with me?”

The comet had a long glowing tail. “Sorry moon,” she shouted, “I’m on my way home and I must not be late” she said with out stopping or slowing down. “Maybe next time,” she said.

Once again, little moon was alone.

A bright glowing ball peeked around the earth. Moon smiled. It was Sun.

“Why do you look so sad little Moon?” sun asked.

“I’m bored and no one wants to play with me,” he said grumpily.

Sun chuckled, “Don’t be sad Little Moon,” he said, “I’m sure they want to play with you, perhaps they are a little busy with important work. We all have important jobs to do, even you little moon.”

“Really?” he asked. Little moon wasn’t so sure. “But what do I do that is so important?” he asked. “I don’t give heat, I’m not very bright, and I can’t help things grow; I’m just a boring little rock in the sky,” he said frowning causing one of his craters to deepen. “That’s why no one wants to play with me!” he pouted.

Sun smiled. “You are not boring at all. You are also very important. You reflect light from me and provide light for night travelers. You also cause the ocean tides to ebb and flow. That is especially important to many small sea plants and animals. You help the people keep track of time and seasons.”

“Hmm, I do all that?” Moon asked in awe.

“Yep,” said Sun, “you do all of that!”

Little moon smiled. He wasn’t so boring after all and he had an important job just like earth, sun, cloud and wind.

“Well, I’m still bored,” he said, “couldn’t you play with me just for a little bit,” he asked sun.

“Well, I guess I can stay for just a little bit,” sun chuckled.

And for a moment in time, little moon was as happy as any little moon could be.

Clip art from: clipartheavean.com

Classroom poem

I wrote this poem to add to pictures my toddler students painted and gave as presents to their parents. It was a fun project to do with them and the parents loved it! :)

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I'm Happy You are My Mommy and Daddy

For all the times you spend with me,

For all the yummy treats you make for me,

For all the sleep you lose for me,

For all the hugs and kisses you give me,

And for all the patience you have with me,

I'm happy you're my mommy and daddy.

For all the wonders you help me see,

For the little person you let me be,

For all the things you do for me,

For all the care you give to me,

And for all the love you shower upon me,

I'm happy you're my mommy and daddy.

Autumn Song-Red Glow

This is the result of a 15 min nano word sprint :D got to love twitter!

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Autumn Song-Red Glow

I stepped out my door for the first time in months after the accident. I took a deep breath. The air was refreshing. Despite my fear of every sudden move or sound, I loved the freedom of moving air around me. It came as a bit of a shock when my foot crunched on a few dried leaves. I looked out at my yard. The trees were no longer green. A crisp breeze made my bones shiver. I stood rubbing my hands and looking at the yard. As the sun set, my trees looked like they were on fire with their red and gold leaves sweeping and swaying in the breeze. A red leaf detached from a branch nearby. The wind blew it towards me. As it swirled and danced gracefully in the air, I reached for it. I took a small feeble step forward but jumped back as I realized I would have to step off the porch. I looked around to see if anyone was around, if anyone saw my fear or hesitation. I looked for the leaf. It was still in the air dancing for me. I limped once more to the edge of the porch. The breeze getting a little colder, forced the red leaf towards me again. My leg did not hurt as much, whether it was due to the chilling breeze or the fact I was so captivated by the dancing leaf I did not feel the pain as I stood on it. The leaves on the trees rustled as the wind sang through them. The chimes on the porch added to the autumn ensemble. I leaned on the porch post and once again reached for the leaf. It was just out of reach. Was it mocking me? Was it enticing me, encouraging me to be bolder like it’s new found color? I took a deep breath and stepped down off the porch. On wobbly legs, I stepped onto a granite block. A stone skipped making my heart skip a beat, but the red leaf was much closer. It danced to the song of the wind. The trees behind it glowed reddish gold. I smiled, forgetting my fears, my pain. I stepped on to another granite block, then another, turning, circling, and lifting, on my good leg. For a moment in time, I danced with the red leaf to the song of autumn’s red glow. As the sun disappeared, the breeze passed and the leaf fell into my hands. I hobbled back into my safe, cozy cave and closed the door behind me.

Books and Technology

Where will the digital world take us? While sitting here checking email, updating my facebook status and reading tweets, I came across a tweet that asked, "what will libraries look like?" in the future as we move forward and e-books become more popular and accessible. I realized that it has been ages since I set foot in a library, this coming from a girl who was practically raised in our small town library. Granted, the last time I went to the library, which wasn't that long ago, was in search of some board books for my classroom, but I'm talking about sitting down amongst thousands of books and spending hours reading.

The thought brought back floods of memories and sensations. I can almost remember the smell of my hometown library. The smell of the books, the carpet under my feet (yeah, I used to take off my shoes when the librarian was not looking :D), the hard seats when the more comfortable chair was already taken, the smooth covers of the books as I shelved books and the goosebumps I'd get when it got a bit too cold. The only sounds heard were the hushed whisperings of patrons, tapping of typewriters and the turning of pages. Being home-schooled allowed me an opportunity to spend hours and hours at the library. On a good day, I spent more than four hours. I even learned how to use library system to help others check out books, input returned books and even shelve returned books. One summer, I held the title, junior assistant to the librarian. It was such a great experience.

Then comes technology, giving us the e-book. Not sure how embracing I am of the thought of e-books. I love holding books, smelling books and the simple sensation of turning pages. Just how will e-books transform the library culture and way of life? What will the library of the future look like? I can only imagine some hallowed room with nothing but glass and colorless, streamlined computer stations where people can hook their ipads, kindles, laptops and other e-readers to charge and download books, information and there will even be automated librarians. The room will have a more sterile smell due to problems dust can create for the library's computer mainframe. There will be no intimacy between person and book or person and library. People will interact with machine instead of other humans.

Who knows what the future has in store for books and the library, but hopefully we still have a long time before the written word becomes obsolete. I'm a die-hard book fan and hopefully enough of us will keep the book and library culture alive. At least for the next 7 generations! :D

Autumn Thoughts

Autumn Thoughts

This morning I woke up to the buzz of my alarm clock.

It was barely light outside and a bit nippy in the room.

I drew my arms around me as I rushed to the bathroom to turn on the hot water for a shower.

The warm steam woke me up.

An hour later, I stepped outside and took a deep breath of fresh air.

Cool, a tad breezy and moist, it had a light smell of newly fallen droplets of rain. Here in Seattle, autumn had arrived.

How I love autumn.

When long, hot summer days bade us farewell.

Most birds embark on their annual migrations.

Insects and critters get ready for hibernation.

Soon, local trees will be crowned majestically with red, orange and yellow leaves. Crisp winds will carry away any that fall.

The sun will play peek-a-boo behind clouds high in the northwest sky.

The smell of pumpkin spice and everything nice like nutmeg, cinnamon and allspice will be the official aroma of homes and bakeries.

I will find my warm, cozy red fleece throw to decorate my bed with.

And on those brisk autumn nights, I look forward to warm spicy cider, my autumn throw, and an exciting new novel to curl up with.

Autumn my love, how I love thee!

You are my season.

Practice Writing: Showing vs Telling.

So, I joined this free online writing class where they send you lessons to your email. http://www.creative-writing-now.com The exercise: Harry and his wife Angela (feel free to change the names) visit a new house they're thinking of buying. Angela is enthusiastic about the house, but it's really a terrible place. Harry hates the house but is afraid to say what he really thinks. Show the scene. But... do *not* tell the reader explicitly that the house is terrible. Do *not* say outright that Harry hates it. Do *not* have Harry directly tell his true feelings about the house to his wife. Instead, try to make the reader see and feel what's going on. 10 min exercise. (Names have been changed.)

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Adil and his wife, Hanan pulled up behind the black sedan of their real estate agent, Sarah Gigs. Hanan looked out the window.

“This is it,” she said grinning and bouncing in her seat.

She jumped out the car before Adil turned off the engine. He looked at the house and frowned. The house was smaller than it looked on the picture Sarah showed them and there was a lot to be said about the old, worn-down pathway leading to the porch and the dried up grass and dead shrubbery that littered the front yard. Hanan beamed as Sarah explained the features of the house while unlocking the front door.

“It has four rooms, a living room and dining room. It has a cute nook between the kitchen and foyer. It has a huge backyard that I think you are going to fall in love with and has a Gazebo the last residents built.”

Hanan went from room to room giggling. She always giggled a lot when she got excited.

“Look at this place, it’s amazing. Just think, this will be ours,” she smiled squeezing Adil’s arm.

All Adil could do was crack a smile that was more of a grimace than a smile. He could not believe they were looking at the same house. The rooms were small, damp and had a faint smell of mildew and smoke.

“Oh, a good scrub and nice coat of paint will make this a great office,” she said cheerfully.

The kitchen reminded Adil of a grim scene in a horror movie. The floors and walls were stained; the dishwasher was ancient and the rusted kitchen sink dripped. He could not concentrate on what the “perks” of the house were.

“Follow me,” Sarah sang.

Hanan danced then spun out of the room. Adil waited till she left before rolling his eyes and following her. He joined them onto the terrace or so Sarah called it.

“Eeep, I’ve always wanted a huge backyard,” Hanan clapped. “I love it! What do you think, Adil, isn’t this place a dream?”

“Well, it has, it may, I don’t know. Maybe we should keep…” “We’ll take it,” Hanan squealed.

“Yeah,” Adil said with a sigh, his chest dropping, “we’ll take it.”

The Mat'hool Prophecy

The Mat'hool Prophecy

From the Novel: The Sahabeeyeen

Year Date: 10,000 years ago

Place: Original Changeling Home Planet, Mat’hool

A windstorm raged outside the Sanctuary of the red caves. Red sand clouds swept across the vast desert planet, then slammed against the mountain range. The storm howled savagely, but deep inside the dark red chambers of the sanctuary, a low hum vibrated. The chambers were the result of ancient water streams that once flowed through the mountain as it rose from the ancient seabed. Neither light of day or night penetrated the caves deep in the belly of the mountain, but a luminous glow filtered from a cave, the Cave of Remembrance. The red walls glowed as a central pool of a glowing white liquid rested at the lowest part of the cave. The humming continued, sending ripples through the pool. For a brief moment, the pool trembled, and then it stood still. The liquid slowly rose from the red cave floor and took the form of lonely figure cloaked in a white luminous coat. The figure removed the hood covering his head; he was an elderly Mat’hool, a race of shape shifters. Haddi lifted his head to the ceiling of the cave, and then bowed deeply. “I hear and obey, my Lord,” he said. Haddi ascended the long winding path through the Sanctuary of the red caves.

A desolate and secluded place, Mat’hool monks often sought spiritual enlightenment in the protected caves. He exited the cave. With only the light of the full moon, he made his way home to his people. He walked for days, under the blazing sun and the glowing moon. He finally reached a sand dune that reached over 100 feet. He climbed the dune, when he reached the top; he looked down on a massive lake. A lake that was surrounded by only sand and rock. The lake was not made of water but the same liquid substance of Haddi. He had made it home to his people. He descended the hill. He placed his feet into the pool. Small waves rippled across the surface of the lake.

“I have returned from the Cave of Remembrance. After forty days and forty nights, my Lord has given me a vision, a vision that will test the endurance and belief of our people. He has showed me a race of beings that will come to us in need of help and protection. My Lord has commanded us to guard them even if it means our death and destruction.”

“How will we know them?” his people asked.

“They will come to us being pursued by enemies. They will call themselves Muslims. These Muslims will be the living descendants of an ancient messenger’s closest companions from the planet Earth,“ he answered. “We will help them reclaim their freedom from their enemy and their ancient city, Makah, of planet Earth.”

“We hear and obey,” his people answered in a slow but steady ripple across the massive lake. As the ripple traveled across the lake, Haddi felt a disturbance. He raised his eyes in concern, but as quickly as the disturbance appeared, it vanished beneath the waves of echoes.