Ellen Tebbits by Beverly Cleary

A few days ago, I started a new board on Pinterest, “Favorite Middle-Grade Novels.” As I was pinning my pictures of my favorite book covers, a name popped in my head that I hadn't thought of for a very long time—Ellen Tebbits. I searched for the cover. When the image popped up, I felt like I was meeting up with a very old friend. There's Ellen Tebbits, wearing a tutu, in a ballet pose, looking justifiably annoyed as Otis Spofford stands right beside her, in cowboy regalia, mischievously mirroring her move. I knew I had to read it again.

Beverly Cleary wrote Ellen Tebbits in the early fifties. Some things no longer belong to our world. Today children don't experience the trauma of wearing woolen underwear, the joy of clapping erasers during recess, the anger when someone pulls the sash of your dress at school, or the delight of walking around town while your spurs jingle jangle.

However, I didn't care that those things were out of date. The ideas expressed in this book transcend time: the need for a best friend, the torment of being teased by a boy, the longing to wear the right clothes and to always fit in. I raced through this book and decided that this would be a Cleary summer. In other words, I'm in for a good time.

Pinterest

This past week I heard this episode on Mark Dawson's Self Publishing Formula podcast about Pinterest and marketing. I also downloaded this free e-book that came about as a result of this podcast. I basically decided to give Pinterest a try.

I ended up creating four boards, two dedicated to books I had written (Joy Returns! And Kate and the Horses), a book in the works (The Loudest Meow), and one I'm dreaming about (Here Comes the Kittens!). They're inspiration boards with images that celebrate things in the books. Sometimes an image will look like a character. Sometimes they remind me of a trait in a character or a theme or something that's important to one of the characters. Sometimes it has to do with place or mood. I can already see how it will help my writing in the future. Finding an image makes me remember forgotten details. The pictures take me to task, reminding me of things that I need to explain and clarify and show the reader to help deepen the story.

In this time, I discovered how much I love working on Pinterest. If I could, I would like to devote entire days to Pinterest. I already spent much more time than I had planned this past week on Pinterest. I just kept thinking of more images that I wanted to see. I built up these four boards and decided they were all wrong, deleted everything, and started again. Here's where you can find my current boards.

This time I think I'm on the right track. There is much more to do, but I think it's a good start. You can look and see what you think. If you are on Pinterest, let me know, so I can check out your boards, too.

The Cycles of Writing

Right now, I'm in the “review after the copy edit” phase of my book.

As with everything else, all writers do things differently. I am of the philosophy that writing has different cycles. It's not all word counts and numbers of pages. There are times when I need to focus on those things—for example, in the beginning stage of a book, I need to spend several months writing the first and subsequent drafts of a manuscript until I know that someone else has to chime in. Then I turn it over to beta readers. While they look at my book, I hunker down for a phase of study (writing and marketing), research for the next book, or notes about future projects. Then my readers let me know what they think, and I pick up the draft, going through their suggestions until I'm written out again, and it's time to give it to the developmental editor, who gives me further feedback on whether my book is structurally sound. Once again, I return to my draft, revising and correcting, until it's time to hand it off to the copy editor.

Every time I let go of my book, I'm happy to do it. I have nothing more to give at that point. I need other trusted pairs of eyes to see what I cannot at that moment. I have what Judy Blume calls “a messy mind.” It takes me a while to be able understand and express what I want to say. I wish I had the kind of mind that could completely think out a book and be able to send it directly to a copy editor and then just take care of the line edits. There are writers who can do that. I belong to the subterranean sloppy sect.

However, that said, I keep my early drafts to myself. I can't have people telling me it's a mess before I've cleaned it up as much as I possibly can before they see it. If people make comments during my set writing times, it makes me self-conscious and confused and unhappy. Again, other writers flourish with continual feedback. That's just not me.

Each time the book comes back to me, I have gone through at least several days of existential doldrums, where I wander around the house and tell myself that I'm not a writer. I'm a fraud wearing slippers at 3:00 in the afternoon. I expect it now. I have thought about shortening my deadlines, but I want to give my readers and my editors some space. And I also want to give myself that gift. It reminds me of, when I was a kid in Michigan, waiting for spring. There's this pent-up energy, this anticipation and frustration, and then one day, the warm days return. My book is back, accompanied with many suggestions and ideas.

I always feel so happy to return to the world of word counts, of concrete markers that something is actually happening. But frustration also sits on my shoulder. How could I not have seen that? There's embarrassment. My readers and editors must think I'm an absolute idiot. There's sometimes a sense of hopelessness. Why did I think I could write? But there's also excitement. I now again see things that I want to do. With the help of my friends, it is clear. Then it's just a matter of diving in again, trying to make the best book I can.

Coco

Spoilers abound. But since I could be the last person in the whole world who has seen this movie, I don't think it matters. (If you somehow haven't watched it, Coco is currently streaming on Netflix.)

This movie talks about things that are meaningful to me—the importance of music, animals, and family; of finding out as much about your history as you can; and of the connections that still exist between the living and the dead.

I was delighted with this film from the opening note. We hear the traditional Disney theme, but this time a mariachi band plays the song. The narrator proceeds to tell us the history of a family in Mexico. We hear of a villain and a heroine—a man deserts his family to become a musician, and the mother learns to provide for everyone through making shoes—and the oath/curse that comes out of this struggle—“No one in this family shall play music.” This is a problem for our main character, Coco, a teenage boy who longs to be a musician.

The story takes place on the Day of the Dead, a Mexican holiday that I wish Americans also celebrated, where families put up altars in their homes and place pictures of their ancestors there. They put out the favorite food of the loved ones that have passed away. In this tradition, the spirits of the dead can come back on this day to be with their loved ones who remember them.

Things come to a head. Coco is told he is now old enough to start working in the family business, making shoes. He announces that he plans to play music in the town talent show that evening. The grandmother discovers his guitar and breaks it in anger. Coco runs out the house, determined to follow his dream, starting with playing in that talent show.

Throughout the film, Coco must now face a series to challenges to see if he can accomplish what he has set out to do. It starts with a fairly simple problem—“Where will I find a guitar?”—and then escalates to “Help! I have crossed over to the spirit world, and I need permission from one of my ancestors to come back before the Day of the Dead is over.”

I loved that, through his journey, Coco was accompanied by animals who comforted and often saved him. I'm currently writing a novel about an afterlife, and I enjoyed all the customs and protocols and details of this strange new world. And I was genuinely surprised by some of the twists in the story.

During his time with the spirits, Coco learns more about his family. His perceptions change. His allegiances shift. When he does return, he is able to come back with more knowledge about his family legacy that he can share with others. In the end, his family is at peace, joyous. They now love Coco's music. The history has been healed. What more can we ask for?

The Importance of Little Women

When I was young, I read Little Women countless times. I had definite opinions about what happened in the book.I had strong feelings about Amy burning Jo's novel. I hated that Beth died. I thought that Jo and Laurie should have been together. I think one of the reasons I read this book so many times is that I hoped that the next time I read it, some things would turn out differently.

Recently, I watched the PBS adaption of Little Women. This time, it was quite clear to me that Jo and Laurie were not a match. How did I miss the references to billiards and drinking and Laurie's overall nonchalance towards life? How would that work with such a driven, serious young woman? It wouldn't, and she told him so countless times. I had forgotten that, too. In my young mind, he had proposed once in such a romantic way. Why couldn't Jo let herself be happy? They were clearly meant to be! But now I see they weren't.

It still bothered me that Amy destroyed Jo's novel. Really? You're not invited to a play, and you burn your sister's draft? I also didn't have much sympathy for her in the pickled lime incident. The teacher had warned them, no more pickled limes. Yes, hitting her hands with a ruler, when he discovered her stash, was not the appropriate response, but I could not see her as a grand martyr here. And I was annoyed when Amy was so upset about having to live with Aunt March during the scarlet fever epidemic. Your sister is seriously ill, and this is what you're focused on? I would have been a horrible sister for Amy.

And yet Amy understood the culture. She knew how to behave like a young woman of the time and rightfully get the opportunities to go places because she was pleasant and appropriate. And she was a great match for Laurie. They had similar values. They loved the social life. I can see that now.

I hadn't remembered that Beth first recovered and then fell sick again. When I read this book when I was young, I hadn't realized how isolated she was, that she didn't go to school because she was too shy, that she really didn't like to leave the house, that it was very hard for her to meet new people. Like Beth, I loved playing the piano when I was young. I was very shy, too. It would always be hard to read of a young person dying, but I think this death was particularly hard for me because I related so much to her, and I wondered what kind of a life a person like I could have. I wanted Beth to be able to show me the way, and that didn't happen in this story, no matter how many times I read it.

But I also understood Jo. I have that part that burns to write. Watching this story again, I had forgotten about her failed novel. When she is trying to move beyond that failure, she says, “I can't even write journal entries, but I have so many words in my head.” I've been there, sister.  At another point, she states, "I am too thoughtless and too blunt, and I have an ungovernable tongue.” I know all about that. I may have outgrown some of those tendencies, but sometimes I am right there with my temper and thoughts of  what I perceive as justice flying out of my mouth again. I also know that feeling of being outside the culture, of not being able to understand why fashion and flirtation seemed so important to my peers, when writing felt like everything to me. And this time when she met Professor Baer, I swooned. I never thought I would consider Professor Baer a dreamboat, but now I do.

We were at the movies last night, and there was a coming attraction for a modern update of Little Women, coming to a theatre near you in September. I will have to go see it. I think this story remains powerful because it talks about sisterhood, about the importance of caring for others, and about the different paths that one can take in life. It will always be one of my favorite stories.