To lure schooly types (parents, teachers, librarians) to a bookstore event last month, I raffled off a free author visit.  As you may recall, a mom bringing a neighborhood full of spirited middle-school girls won the drawing, and on Monday, I got to make good on my promise at Scribner Middle School.

I’m sorry for anyone who did not win, but I am glad that Scribner did, because not only is their auditorium gorgeous, their teachers organized, and their kids an ideal audience, but they made 250 kids available to come hear me speak!  Thank goodness I was a teacher before I was an author, because this was a big crowd, y’all.  The pictures tell the story best, so I’ll let them do it…

See what I'm saying? That place was huge!

Am I balancing an invisible tray?

Once they raised their hands, they all became ghosts.

Okay, obviously, there was no paranormal element to the proceedings.  The blurriness is a result of the fact that I hate the way the flash affects digital pictures and always turn it off, and then other people have to suffer through my poor choices when they kindly take the camera (thank you, Ms. Thompson!)  I’d like to think it lends a cool effect, at least.

One fun thing about the visit was that Ms. Thompson, who organized it, encouraged me to talk about my own experiences with niceness and meanness, and I did, in a more forthcoming way than I have before.  The most meaningful part for me, and I think for the students as well, if I’m any good at reading a room, was when I talked about the only time I remembered anyone standing up to me for the way I tried to run the show.  I’ll tell that story some other time, some other place, but I think it was as much of a “Wow” moment for them as it was for me back in ninth grade that somebody could be brave enough to say, “I know I have no control over what you do, but what you’re doing is hurting me, and I wish that you would stop.”

Another great element of the visit was the questions, and my favorite happened to be the last one: “You know when books–not yours, maybe, but other ones–have, like, handwriting in them?  How do they do that?”  I explained that there are more fonts in the world than your Microsoft Word can even dream of, and publishers look for the ones that best fit the character.  The girl seemed to like this explanation, and I liked the question because it so exactly spoke to what kids really care about: the nuts-and-bolts of the physical book that they interact with.  Never mind this mush about what inspired you, the boring adult author.  What’s the deal with the book in my hand?  I hope to do more school visits so I can keep bringing on the ghosts and connect with the kiddos.

Thanks, Scribner, for your extensive awesomeness!  Oh, and ps, thanks for telling your kids that if they couldn’t buy books, I would sign their planners!  I think that might be an all-time career high.

You know that writer whose blog is read and referenced far and wide?  The one run by a faculty member at Vermont College of Fine Arts (the finest grad school in all the land) where you can’t believe she has time to learn about and connect with so many professionals because she also is hugely prolific as a writer and has many devoted advisees?  I’m talking about Cynthia Leitich Smith and her blog, Cynsations (obviously.)  And I am honored to say that I am today’s New Voice–the new writer she interviews for her blog.

That's Cyn. She's a hoot.

Some come on down to Cynsations, read what I have to say about outlining vs. plunging into the story, how teaching has influenced my writing, and writerly self-promotion.  And then stick around and click through to read some other new voices!

(On a side note, the playwriting program I teach for is called New Voices.  We’re just voicey all over the place here!)

And on a p.s. note: On Monday, I talked to 250 kids at Scribner Middle School in Indiana!  They were awesome.  The auditorium was huge and I walked with my hand-held mike up the aisles, just like Oprah.  Photos of that to come.

So here’s a little-known fact about me (as, indeed, why should it be known?): my grandfather was a judge for the Rhode Island State Supreme Court.  He wasn’t the kind of grandfather I could get to know that well, especially because he was sick for a large part of my life, but I definitely knew that being a judge was a huge part of his identity.  I have many vivid memories of walking around Providence with him and having people doff their hats to say, “Hello, Judge.”  Or he’d host parties (with the most delicious hors d’oeuvres, oh my word; I still fantasize about the cheesy puffs)–and people would give him cards addressed to The Judge.  I hope it’s not speaking ill of him to note that my mother would indeed concur that he was A Judge.  But whether this was fun for those around him or not, I am psyched to learn that I will be following in his footsteps–not as a law-court judge (good lord, I would be terrible at that)–but as a judge for the Cybils!

The Cybils are the Children’s and Young Adult Bloggers’ Literary Awards, and every year, ripe dozens of bloggers commit to reading many nominated books each year to determine which are award-worthy.  Their call for judges was so funny, actually, that I’m going to quote them:

Yes, it’s that time of year, when we ask kidlit bloggers around the world to stop what they’re doing and join us. It’s going to be another crazy contest year, so we’re again reminding everyone [editor’s note: the italicized words below were actually crossed out, but WordPress is not delivering on its promise to do the cross-out font, so I had to downgrade:]

1. judging is loads of fun work. For which we pay you tons nothing.
2. you should skip skim read every word of this post here.
3. you’ll also find an explanation of the secret handshake rules there too

Got to love an honest call for volunteers.

I’m going to be a panelist in the non-fiction category, which means that along with a committee of an unclear number of people I don’t know yet esteemed peers,  we will be reading until our eyeballs bleed cooing lovingly over all of the please God don’t let there be too many nominated books and yammering loudly for our favorites to move on narrowing to a shortlist of 5-7.

First of all, it’s a chance to read great books and learn some stuff.  But perhaps of greater interest is the chance to discuss the merits of books with other interested parties, especially debating what makes one great book stand out over another.  M. T. Anderson’s judging statement for the School Library Journal Battle of the Books, on two non-fiction titles, actually, was one of the best pieces of literary criticism I have ever read, and was part of what inspired me to throw my hat into the non-fiction ring.  I think that, for the first time, I’m going to post reviews of what I read, and I’ll get to pass on the knowledge to you all.  Maybe, just as I notched up the rent-count on Fame, I’ll get you all to learn about Nicola Tesla or the invention of lollipops.

So thank you, Cybils, for choosing me (was it my post on Fame that convinced you?), and to our fearless leader especially, Susan Thomsen from Chicken Spaghetti.  I promise to doff my hat in return when you address me as “Judge” and to find that recipe for cheesy puffs to celebrate the end of our process.

Let the games begin!  May the odds be ever in your favor!

ps  An interesting post from the Cybils website about choosing their panelists and judges.  There are 110 of us–wow!

I hazily remember that back when I used to work full-time, I used to do things like go into other peoples’ offices or classrooms to jabber when I needed a break.  I even remember a Catchy Jingles War with my boss Elizabeth, in which we’d wait until the other one stepped away from her desk, call each other up, and sing or whistle an annoyingly catchy tune–“I’d rather buy at PC [that’s PC Richards!” or “Can-can, Shop-Rite has the can cans!”  There was also the time that Angie and I plotted a hella bad April Fool’s Day prank that I couldn’t laugh about for a long time.  But it’s a good thing I have these memories, because when I do things like watch clips from the Fame movie during writing breaks, I don’t feel like such a lout.

I had a really good reason for watching Fame.  I needed a good poem quote about swimming for the big moment when Luke takes the plunge, and I found one from Walt Whitman–

Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers, march in line with the firemen, and pause, listen, count.

This is so apropos you don’t even know it.  But then I thought, “Oh, ‘I sing the body electric’–just like that song from Fame!  I need to watch that.  And do you:

For those of you tragically not in the know, Fame was a masterpiece of 80s cinema.  It followed the lives of several students at the High School for the Performing Arts in NYC  and starred such luminaries as Irene Cara, the guy who played Rocket Romano on ‘er,’ a really cute cellist, and Debbie Allen. (“You’re going to work!  You’re going to sweat!”)  It got turned into a TV show that was on too late for me to watch (actually, the movie was too racy for me when it came out, too; it was only in later years that I rented it)–but everybody knew the songs (I think we sang them at day camp), and

everybody wanted to go to The Fame School.  It’s probably a good thing I didn’t get to watch the movie when I was little, or there’d have been much I was freaked out about, but the singing and dancing were great!

And “I sing the body electric” is such a great number, too.  I hope that one day WordPress will allow inset commentary a la Mystery Science Theatre, because there’s so much I need to say about this one.  F’rinstance:

-did someone tell everybody except the black kids who get the falsetto duet not to have any expression when they sing, a la 90% of high school students?  These guys look totally divorced from the awesome emotional content of their song.  It’s hilariously realistic.

-Mr. Shorofsky!  The coolest non-crusty teacher ever!  I wonder what happened to him?

-The dancing during the rocking-out portion–is that considered ballet?  It’s kind of just people picking each other up, albeit in really cool combos.  I eagerly await a balletomane’s opinion.

-Look at that thin, wide camera!  I’d totally forgotten about those!

-The guy they focus on during the line, “I toast to my own reunion–my own reunion” looks like the one who plays Big Love on Season 4 of House!  I’m sure he was in diapers when this came out, so maybe it was his Papa?

Oh, and.  I just found the TV theme song so I could share that with you, too, and I think some serious Fame watching is going to need to commence.  (I wonder if Wild and Woolly Video carries it?)  I haven’t seen it in years, but I have no doubt that it beats the dance-belt off of Glee, which, I’m sorry, is the most heartbreaking misuse of  story ever.  And hello, Janet Jackson and Michael Cerveris are in this?  Why didn’t anybody tell me?

One final note: watching  the credits of multi-racial kids, all struggling to rock out and fit in actually reminds me of my work in progress!  I’m sure that in some episode, there’s some Fame equivalent to the aforementioned Luke, doing something similar to swimming with his shirt off.  Yes!  This was not a totally loutish digression after all.

Remember my name–Fame!

Will talk about my reading on Saturday in a moment, but guess who’s coming to town this weekend?  The cutest nephew ever!!

In other news (ha, I almost wrote, ‘in other words’), I’m hoping to see some of you Louisville readers at Carmichael’s Bookstore on Frankfort Avenue this Saturday at 4pm!  I’ll be reading and doing Q&A, and there will be a special presentation for teachers called, “Ways to Enhance Writing Workshop: Lessons from a Real-Live Writer.”  I always thought I was a pretty good writing teacher, but when I started writing full-time, I realized there were several things I could have done more effectively.  Here’s a teaser: no more memoirs!  Nancy Atwell, writing guru, swears by memoirs.  I loved Nancy Atwell, but I never thought the memoir units really worked, and at Carmichael’s, I will reveal the reasons why.

I also have a new approach to my get-the-crowd-talking technique.  Questions will fly.  Objects will fly.  Be there.

Carmichael’s did a great write-up for me, so I’m going to paste it here. Did you know they’re Louisville’s oldest independent bookstore?

News summary: After a very fun run of it, my serialized story in the Louisville Courier-Journal, Not That Girl, has wrapped up its monthlong appearance.  You can read  You can read the series from start to finish here.

I was also thrilled to get this lovely review from Tweendom, which is run by the lower-school librarian at Little Red School House in NYC.  (I did a little Internet sleuthing; it’s true.  The school looks almost nothing like that picture, by the way; although it is, in fact, little and red, it’s on the corner of very busy 6th Avenue.  That image was so gorgeously Maxfield Parrish, though, I couldn’t resist including it.)  Little Red was so much cooler than I was that I didn’t even know anybody who went there, but I can recoup some of that lost coolness now by having a nice mention on the librarian’s review blog.  You can read it here, or just enjoy this part:

“Jessica Leader has gotten the multiple worlds of the middle schooler down pat. Seventh grade tends to be a time of big changes…of kids figuring out who they want to be and where they are going to fit in. Marina and Sachi, while seemingly opposites, illustrate this beautifully. Round out the cast of their satellite friends and many types of kids are shown without seeming like Leader simply lined up types and put them in. Nice and Mean shows readers that most likely, the kids they think of as mean aren’t all mean, and the kids who seem nice definitely have some back story of their own!”

Off to the beach this weekend, and I desperately hope that Earl does not delay me!  I have kind of a horrible fear of flying,

and if this flight is punctuated by turbulence, I don’t know what kind of state I’ll be in when I get off the plane.  If you want tosay a little prayer, I wouldn’t mind being included.

Happy Labor Day weekend!  May the fruits of your labor be recognized!