I teach high school now, but when I taught middle school, many people hearing it for the first time would widen their eyes and say, “Wow. You must be a saint.”

I hated that. Not because it was rude — because it was wrong! I am nowhere near a saint, and middle-schoolers are the icing of the cupcake that is school — the very best and most delicious part. Overflowing with wacky ideas, irrepressible, and often surprisingly uninhibited, they touch my heart with their turns of phrase and always make me laugh. Best of all, they throw themselves into projects, like Dasha did on this thank-you note for my Skype visit to her school about Nice and Mean:

There are sixteen of these cute little doors, all with parts of a message behind them!

Holy cabooses!  I can’t imagine how much work went into that. And it’s just like the 1991 Egoiste commercial*, but without the scary screaming women and with the phrase, “Signed, your admiring readers.” I enjoy my high-schoolers, but they would never reveal themselves enough to say anything like that, even in jest.

How about this one, from Emma? Her little book with the words “Video Nightmare” and “Black Book” showcase the official documents of Nice and Mean’s main characters, Marina and Sachi.

All those stripey exclamation points — how could someone not love middle-schoolers?

Now, the piece de resistance, from Kyra:

I should really laminate this.

Man alive! That’s my cover, recreated! As you can see, it’s no Fault in Our Stars cover (in case you have been living under a rock, that book, by John Green, has three colors and some clouds.) The Nice and Mean cover features lots of lines and squiggles, and she captures them all perfectly. Who would have the focus and talent to apply to that? A middle-schooler, that’s who.

I’m so glad that Laurie Morrison, teacher, writer and awesome blogger, invited me to Skype with her class, and that she was thoughtful enough to shepherd her students through the thank-you note process.  It reminded me of everything I love about the age I write for.

You’re still wondering about the Egoiste commercial, aren’t you? Does this jog your memory?

My friend and I spent an entire weekend jumping out of the laundry-room door at my mom, inspired this commercial. I’m sure she’s so grateful to Jean-Paul Goude.  Click the link to re-live it in its glory:  “Egoiste! Egoiste!” C’est catchy, non?

First of all, I am pleased to announce that I will be appearing at two more bookstores in the area this fall!

Saturday, August 21, 2pm

Desinations Booksellers

604 East Spring Street * New Albany, Indiana

Saturday, September 11, 4pm

Carmichael’s Bookstore

2720 Frankfort Avenue * Louisville, KY

I must be straightforward and report that there will not be cake.  (I know! And you were told there’d be cake!)  However, there will be something pretty much as good: a chance to win a free classroom visit from an author!  (Well, this is good if you are a parent, teacher or librarian.  If you are a childless plumber not taking any extension classes anywhere, I imagine that this offer doesn’t appeal as much as cake.  But moving on…)

It’s pretty simple: come to a Nice and Mean event (I will read and dazzle you with my super-secret strategy for spritely Q&A), and if you are a parent, teacher or librarian, you can enter a drawing to win a classroom visit from me. I’ll talk about the process of becoming a writer, discuss the skills that are crucial to being an artist (revision and attention to detail–sound familiar, teachers?), and answer questions.  (I can also read from the book, but often, the Q&A takes a while.)

What if you’re thinking, Oh woe, I do not live near enough to attend, so I cannot enter the drawing! or I am occupied both of those days!  Fear not.  Next month or so, I will hold a drawing online for those interested in a Skype visit.

Go, go, Nice and Mean!  See ya real soon!

School Visit in Providence! One of the great highlights of the month.

As you may know, I used to teach middle-school English, so the chance to be back in a middle-school English classroom was like a little slice of heaven with the smell of grape gum.

The teacher suggested that before I start my presentation, I do a quick go-around with the students.  I was a little hesitant, since there were 30 of them and I worried that they might get bored of listening to each other, but it ended up breaking the ice and giving me a great sense of the kids.  Since the presentation was called The Journey of a Book, I had already planned to ask who in the class considered themselves artists of any kind, so I did that in the go-around, and I loved hearing how kids identified themselves—writer, drawer, comic-book illustrator, rapper.  A couple of them asked, “Is playing soccer an art?” or “is reading an art?” and I said, “If you think it is, it is.”  I also gave props to the kids who said, “I’m not an artist,” because hey, not everyone has to be an artist, but it takes courage to say that when everyone else is declaring their major.

One of my favorite parts of the presentation, and I hope to integrate more elements like this, came when I talked about revising.  This school, like the ones I taught at, heartily emphasizes revising, but as I discussed with some teachers recently, kids often have trouble getting enough perspective on their work to understand how to change it.  (And why do I say “kids”?  Adults have this problem all the time!  I am one of them!)

(pic of me sharing my writer’s notebook. It’s not just for kids!)

To bring them into the world of revision, I told them about two different chapters I’d initially thought were so great but came to see as greatly in need of change.  One scene in which Sachi watched a movie with her sister became Sachi picking her up from after-school; the scene where Marina confesses to Sachi that she accidentally dislocated her sister’s arm the summer before was eliminated completely, in favor of a new emotional moment between the two girls.

When I asked the class, “Do you know why I made those changes?” their answers were spot-on.  They really got how a scene with a movie could render interactions lifeless, and that a confession about the summer before wasn’t as relevant as progress in the current activity.  I loved that I could draw them into the process of seeing something that I once hadn’t been able to see myself.

Both groups asked thought-provoking questions, too, and I’m sorry I don’t remember them better, but I know I liked them, because my host teacher gently teased me for saying, “That’s a good question” over and over.  I do remember, though, when I got to ask them questions, and learned that one of them was writing a play based on his group of friends, about a group of heroes who fights to save the US from people who want to turn it back into a monarchy.  How creative is that?  Another girl won an award for a fairy tale about…shoot!  I can’t remember.  But it was great.

I continue to feel at sea over the fact that my writing career has nudged aside my career as a full-time teacher.  I’m still not sure how that one’s going to end.  However, I’m so glad that the one is able to feed the other, because I felt very full after my day at that Providence school.