Archive for July, 2009

Well, it’s taken a while but I’ve finally finalized the first four book signings in conjunction with my first month of touring elementary schools.  The signings will be every Thursday evening in September, as follows:

September 3rd: 6:00 - 8:00 pm at the Barnes and Noble in Sandy (10180 S. State St.). 

September 10th: 6:00 - 8:00 pm at the Barnes and Noble at Jordan Landing (7157 Plaza Center Dr in West Jordan).

September 17th: 6:00 - 8:00 pm at the Barnes and Noble at the Gateway (200 S. 400 W. in Salt Lake City).

September 24th: 6:00 -8:00 pm at the Barnes and Noble in Layton (1780 Woodland Park Dr.).

I’m looking to visit somewhere between 6 and 8 schools on the day before and day of the signings.  If anyone out there has children who go to school in these areas and they think their children would like to attend my storytelling assembly, let me know which school they go to.  Or—and especially—if any kids are reading this and would like me to come to your school, tell me your school and I’ll make a special point to try to swing by.  If I can’t manage it in September—or if you live outside these areas—I’ll keep your request on file and look to schedule a tour in your area as soon as I can.

I’ll announce the schools I’ll visit in conjunction with each book signing, as soon as they’re finalized, here on my blog.  I’ll also list all this information on my schedule here on the site.  Not only will this give you all an idea of where I’ll be and when, but it should provide a convenient impetus for me not to back out.  Don’t misunderstand, part of me is greatly anticipating these elementary visits.  (I really do have far more in common with children than adults, which is healthy in my profession, if you ask me—and even if you don’t.  You’ve got to have a lot of little boy or girl in you to tell stories.  I always thought I was brimming to the top with little boy, but as my last two books have been exclusively from the female perspective, I’m starting to wonder just how much little girl I have thrown in.)  However, I’ve never worked with children on writing before.  I teach college students every day, and I’ve done enough workshops at conferences and the like to enjoy them, pretty much regardless of size.  I’ve done all that and been successful.

No matter how childish I am, I can’t say the same about teaching children.  Thus, like any new experience, there’s a bit of uncertainty about the whole thing.  But when I start feeling a bit too squishy inside—as one of my little girl characters says—I tell myself the following: “All you have to do to get on well with kids is be willing to make a fool of yourself.  Not only can you,” meaning me, ” do that, you can do it exceptionally well, and likely are incapable of avoiding such.  So relax.  What else is a fool like you,” meaning me, “better fit?”

And so my logic comforts me.  At least in certain ways.

$95

I now have my own list price.  Cynthia Liu’s auction is over and my proposal package critique was bought by a nice lady named Susie for $95.  Her son, Duncan, is apparently a big fan of the Codices, and Green is his favorite.  Obviously a remarkably intelligent boy. 

Anyway, I will thus spend my 24th of July holiday (a state holiday in Utah) trying to give Susie her money’s worth with her proposal package, as well as on another critique project on my plate.   In the rest of my time I’ll work on finalizing my school visit presentation and, hopefully, find some time to sit and let my latest story percolate enough for me to start writing the sample chapters next month. 

Oh, and I hope to be able to share the dates for my first three or four book signings next week or so.  Once I finalize the school visits in conjunction with the signings I’ll let everyone know.

For those who are interested, local author Michele Bell just posted an interview she did with me a few weeks ago.  It was quite thorough and included some interesting questions about my writing history, GDC, other writers who have influenced me, and even which of my books is my favorite (answer: all of them, but for different reasons given in the interview).  If you’re interested, you can read the interview by going to her blog.

*****

Just had to pass on some really great news from a friend of mine.  James Dashner, author of the upcoming Maze Runner trilogy from Random House, just made public the first printing they have planned: 100,000 hardcover copies.  Now, if you’re comparing that to the 2,000,000 copies of Diary of a Wimpy Kid 4, it may not sound that impressive.  But it is.  Trust me.  Add that to the fact that The Maze Runner has already sold three foreign language rights (Russian, French, and Greek), all before its release (October, I believe) and you see that James is really at the cusp of becoming an important name in children’s fantasy.  He’s a good friend of mine who’s helped me out a number of times climbing my own ladder, and so it couldn’t happen to anyone more deserving.  I’m so happy for him that the green eyed monster has absolutely no power of me, in spite of his success.  None.

Okay, maybe some—but it shouldn’t.

Which female superhero has the best body?  I’m going to steal it, you see. 

In explanation: I’m busy creating my school visit presentation for when I start my promotional touring next month.  Part of the presentation goes over how my ambitions evolved over time until I eventually decided to become a writer.  Like all little boys, there was a time when I determined I was going to be a superhero.  (For me this was last night.)  So I thought a little gender dissonance might delight the kids, aka, my head on some leggy superpowered/mutant heroine’s body.

At this point I’m thinking go with the classics: Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman.  My only concern is that kids won’t know who that is, either the character or the actress.  (Though my head on any woman’s body should be at least a little amusing.)  Debated Jennifer Garner as Electra but it just doesn’t have that classic cheese factor that Lynda brought to the table. 

So, anyone have a suggestion?  Best female superhero physique of all time so that I can ruin it by topping it off with my bearded mug.

I haven’t posted much this week, but I’ve made it up to you today.  (This is my standard methodology, procrastinate and then try to charm my way back into the good graces of the world later.)

First off, as I promised, here is the Green Dragon verse to the Codices song I promised.  To see—and hear—the whole song, see the Mirrorstone page about the lyrics contest.  I really like the line about extra-dimensional chickens.

Just let me clear my throat.  Grrrhmmmmphhh.  There.  Minstrel… 

There are so many things we all think we know

with certainty beyond all doubt:

two plus two; sharp will cut; sun melts snow—

all mysteries our world is without.

But when eggs shed their stone and dragons are born,

and demons inhabit great swarms;

when beauty and malice each hiding adorn

two mirrored, dark and light, ogre forms…

belching tests,

green-dye jests,

extra-dimensional chickens galore!

pirate grog,

chlorine fog,

all glimpses of mysteries in store.

Unbelief disavow—

come magic, Here! Now!—

with fall of Guernsey cow

in Green Dragon.

When the song wins the Grammy I’ll let you know.

*****

Cynthea Liu just made her old school in Arkansas the happiest place on earth—yes, they official bumped Disneyland down a notch.  Her auction raised—get this—$15,000! 

$90 of that is mine.  Well, not mine, but what Susan J. spent on a critique of a proposal package I offered.  Best money she ever spent, I promise.  While most of the agents’ and editors’ services went for more, some considerably, I did pretty well among the authors.  From what I saw, my $90 bid was one of the highest for the writers.  Better live up to it, hadn’t I.

What to say when you don’t know what to say?  I guess I’ll just share what happened.

For those weren’t aware, this year I spent the fourth of July commemorating American Independence by attending a celebration of Sudanese culture here in Utah.  More specifically, of Abyei Ngok Dinka culture.  (That such things happen here is a better testament to American values than anything else I can say.)  The Abyei, as was explained to me, are a regional subgroup of the very large Dinka tribe that populates southern Sudan, and Ngok is the name of the subtribe, which is not completely contained in Abyei.  Thus, as I am a western American living in Utah, they are Ngok Dinka Sudanese native to Abyei, though all those in attendance either live in the states or Canada now.  As if that isn’t confusing enough, the Abyei Ngok are broken down further into what might be called nine regional clans, the names of which I don’t pretend to remember.

Now that you know the who, it’s time for the what.  I arrived for the lunch at 1:00, as scheduled.  It started at 3:00.  This didn’t surprise me as much as it might others as I’m somewhat familiar with the meaning and value some African tribes place on time.  Here in the states, and increasingly throughout the developed world, time’s meaning is best encapsulated in the metaphor “time is money.”  We consider time, ours’ as well as others’, a precious commodity, more valuable in many ways than any other possession.  To us, time is something that can saved, lost, spent, wasted, capitalized on, etc.  Thus any appointment with other people is a potential theft; if we arrive late, we have stolen their time.  While there is no legal punishment for this in our culture, few things are considered more disrespectful.

It isn’t like that among the Dinka and many other African tribes (as well as Polynesians and others).  We mistakenly assume this means they are disrespectful, which is not the case at all; rather, their culture privileges respect of different things, people, and scenarios in a different hierarchy than we do.  If I have made an appointment, only very severe family needs would justify my breaking the appointment or arriving late.  That isn’t true with the Dinka.  Socializing, maintaining the informal cohesion of society provided by personal relations, is of the utmost importance.  Family relationships and respect for elders is particularly important.  Thus when a social gathering has been planned, it does not take priority over current socializing and must wait for what is currently going on to be politely concluded.  It makes sense if you think about it, especially for a culture that prizes personal relationships more than the value of time.  However, it is not without its consequences.  A number of the Abyei I talked with (almost all students of mine and/or leaders among the SLC Sudanese community) expressed frustration that many of their fellow Sudanese do not realize the potential value of time.  They understand that in the increasingly global economy understanding the value of time is essential to effectively competing in the market and building a strong Sudanese economy.  It was remarkable to witness these individuals making public encouragements for their community to reconsider notions of time etiquette and value, to actually see a culture in flux and trying to control its transformation.

Anyway, the lunch was held in a church cultural center.  We started by sipping drinks (bottled water and cans of pop, mostly Pepsi, for those who wanted them).  Then the food was served.  I don’t remember the names of the dishes—other than fried chicken—but in terms of weirdness, least to most, they ranked like this: fried chicken; a mixture of fried potatoes, peas, and maybe a few carrots; a dessert a lot like porridge but more yogurty, flavored with cinnamon and butter (really, really good); a crape-like bread dipped in a sour vegetable sauce that reminded me quite a bit of spinach; and goat stomach.  I think it was goat.  It may have been sheep.  I know it was stomach.  Got to talk to my friend Achual, who I learned is the outgoing chairman of the Salt Lake Dinka community.  He never told me he was the big guy organizing all this.  Poor, misguided modesty. 

A side note: Friends in high places are great when you can get them.  One day when Achual’s Finance Minister of Southern Sudan—which may be an independent nation as a result of a secession referendum in 2011—I’m gonna mooch.

So, after lunch we were supposed to go to the Red Lion Hotel for the party.  It was scheduled to begin at 4:00; they told me to arrive at 5:30; things kicked off at 7:00.  Yeah, it was like being in a time warp.  But the experience was great, and very unique.  There was lots of Sudanese music, which includes reggae, Arabic pop, and hip hop in Dinka, all really loud.  Kind of the sonic equivalent of being in a bag of popcorn as its being popped.  The women wore terrific colors, some more traditional dresses and others western, though frequently in wonderful blues, reds, oranges, yellows, and the like.  Men were often times more subdued, though one guy had on an electric blue pinstripe with pink buttons, which earned my amazement and eternal admiration.

A man named James Ngong Monjor performed two songs while people swayed and danced and raised their fists.  Both songs were about cultural resistance and tribal unity, important concepts and values for a people under assault and with a history of tribal rivalry.  Then came the speakers, some of whom spoke in English and Dinka while a few others spoke only in Dinka.  There were pleas for great cohesion on the part of western-dwelling Sudanese of all tribes, much praise for education and activism, and heartrending descriptions of Abyei without clinics or hospitals, without schools, and even without water.  Then guest representatives from other tribes donated money, two or three hundred dollars at most, which means a lot more when you realize the financial challenges so many of these people face.  More music.  Mingling.  Lots of hugs and laughter and smiles, and similar things that function as universal language.

I enjoyed myself immensely…then Abraham arrived.  Abraham is the first Sudanese student I worked with at the college.  He is also as impressive a person as I have ever met.  Unfailingly diligent, ambitious, and cheerful, he was a student leader in the Sudanese community the day I met him, and I knew early on that he was going to do important things.  It was immeasurably gratifying to learn that he is now a regional representative of the SPLM (the Sudanese People’s Liberation Movement).  I got to shake his hand and chat for a while, despite all the others that needed to speak to him due to his influence.  Smiling as brightly as ever, he told me that he’d decided to minor in literature, because his time at the college and working with me had taught him the power and importance of the ability to communicate through writing.  Talk about speechless.  That I played any positive influence in Abraham’s life, and the lives of these other remarkable Sudanese students, no matter how minor, is something of which I am truly proud.

Then to end the night the single most surprising thing that could happen, did (other than my getting my forehead ritually scarred and being adopted into the Abyei Ngok, which might have happened but didn’t): they asked me to speak.  Now, given that I wasn’t even certain why I was invited to attend given my obvious insignificance in the world, this invitation came as quite a shock.  But when people pay you the compliment of believing you have something of value to say, you don’t turn them down, even if you disagree.  So I took a minute to thank a few hundred heroic survivors of conditions I can’t imagine enduring for the honor of celebrating their culture with them.  I expressed the great pleasure and pride I felt at seeing my students, present and past, and how they have succeeded, especially Abraham.  I told them how remarkably driven their students are, how persistent and cheerful, and that the next generation of leaders would do Sudan proud.  I told them it was an honor to be of the minor service I have and that I’ve learned far more from them than they from me, which is the simple truth.

Then I drove home, watching fireworks burst across the valley sky, and thought about what I’d witnessed and what an unearned opportunity it had been.  I also thought about what it all meant, and have been thinking about that off and on ever since.  I suspect I will for some time to come.

My book now has a theme song, or at least a process by which it will gain one.

Mirrorstone is conducting a nationwide contest wherein libraries can sponsor would-be child and teen lyricists to finish a song for the Dragon Codices line.  Verses for the first four books—Red, Black, Bronze, and Brass—have already been written, as has, I believe, the music.  The group that writes the best verse for Green Dragon Codex wins the contest.  The winning library will get a special book package, as will the winning lyricists.  It sounds like a fun idea, plus it should be a good exercise in meter and rhyme for the children who participate.  If you know any kids, teens, or library personal that might be interested, or if you’re just curious, see the Dragon Codices page on Mirrorstone’s web site.

In spirit of the event, I think I’ll write my own green dragon verse and post it here, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a few days. 

Warning: My verse is likely to be inappropriate in some way, whether inane, insane, or simply naughty, I can’t say, but you have been warned.