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June 27, 2007

D.C. Diary

Remember the birthday you really, really wanted a new bike with pink streamers on the handles and the cool banana seat and you got it?

That's what the last few days of my life have been like. Only better. Last Wednesday, Neil and I flew to Washington, D.C., where we were picked up by the kind and generous Edie Ching, librarian extraordinaire. Edie served on the Newbery committee and when she and I met in Seattle in January, it was like we were old friends. I think her husband is now used to all the stray authors (and their spouses) that Edie drags home. At any rate, he cheerfully barbecues for said authors, even in the rain.

I slept in Thursday (Edie said I was the princess so I could!) and then we were driven back to the city where Neil and I spent the rest of the day sightseeing. We aged Edie a few years when we told her we'd sought shelter under a tree during a rain shower -- evidently not a bright idea in lightning country. Except for getting wet, we thoroughly enjoyed our time wandering through the Museum of the American Indian, the Botanical Gardens, the National Gallery and many monuments. My new favorite is the Franklin Delano Roosevelt which captures many of FDR's wise words, including, "I hate war."

Friday, Edie -- who volunteers there -- took us for a whirlwind tour of the National Cathedral before delivering us to our hotel where we caught up with the arriving family. Saturday night, Random House hosted a lovely cocktail party and dinner. I was introduced to several people and then saw a man I hadn't met yet. I held out my hand and introduced myself. "I'm Jerry Spinelli," he replied. What else could I do but curtsy? He laughed and then I told him how much I loved his new Star Girl book. I later shared a taxi with Lois Lowry (going to dinner) and David Almond (coming back); talk about star gazing!

Sunday morning kicked off with a book signing. I was touched by all the Hattie fans in line. Afterwards, I took a quick tour around the conference floor, greeting old publishing friends and making new ones. Then off to a lunch, hosted by Random House, celebrating the members of the Newbery committee. What tickled me most is that these passionate, articulate, warm, professional librarians are really proud of "their" books. I felt even more honored by the Honor after meeting all fifteen committee members.

I hope you're still with me on this post. I know it's long. And there are no photos (yet) because some Newbery Honor winner (whose name we won't mention) forgot to bring the charger for her digital camera so her spouse had to run out to buy a disposable camera and those photos aren't ready yet. As soon as they are, I'll post them. I promise!

So here's the part you're waiting to read. The Newbery Banquet. Short version: WOW!

Slightly longer version: much chaos and merriment at the pre-banquet VIP reception, with cameras flashing right and left as groups formed and morphed -- the Newbery Committee, the Caldecott Committee, the Newbery Committee with the award winners, the award winners by themselves. . . you get the picture. If we weren't dazed before this photo-fest, we certainly were after, thanks to all the flashes going off.

Then it was time to head to the banquet room. A room filled with a thousand of my new best friends. Any discouragment you might be feeling about the future of books is completely obliterated when you see all those people who can't imagine a future without books.

I got to sit with Neil and several Newbery committee members, with Judy Blume across the table from me. I actually enjoyed my dinner and didn't feel nervous at all until Geri Kladder, Newbery Committee chair, stood up to speak. Then I began to shake.

And I got even shakier when she began to talk about Hattie. She described the story so beautifully, it made me want to read it. Just before she called me to come up to receive my plaque, I glanced over at the nearby table and saw my dad. Crying.

This is something I have never, ever seen before. So that when Geri said to come up, I couldn't do anything else but walk over and kiss my father. And then my mother. And then Tyler grabbed me in a hug and I kissed Quinn and Matt. I'm sure the folks in the back thought I'd gotten lost on my way to the stage.

I wasn't lost, except in the magical, life-changing moment. I climbed the stairs and stepped across the stage -- wearing the dress my daughter had picked out for me and the bracelet of stones my Write Sisters had selected -- carrying the love and support of all my family, all of my friends, and accepted that unbelievable award.

Following the ceremony (bravo to Susan Patron for a heart-felt and honest acceptance speech), we all stood in a receiving line for nearly 2 hours, shaking hands. Near midnight, I turned into a pumpkin and we headed back to our hotel for a glass of champagne.

I was beyond exhausted when I crawled into bed and fell immediately asleep. Then I woke up at 2:30. With an idea of how to fix the manuscript I'd set aside a month or so ago. And I smiled. Because though the fuss and fanfare is terrific, writers write.

And I'm ready to get back to work.

Posted by kirby at 12:51 PM | Comments (4)

June 18, 2007

Proud Parents of a Newbery Honor winner

Posted by kirby at 09:26 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Newbery Nerves

Okay. My stomach has been at 30,000 feet all day today and the rest of me doesn't get airborn until Wednesday. I'm more nervous about the Newbery banquet than I was about my own daughter's wedding. At least for that, I knew all I had to do was stand up when the processional played. There are so many unknowns in D.C.!

At least I have a dress for the banquet, thanks to Quinn. If I only eat carrots between now and Sunday, it should fit just fine.

And I have a stunning bracelet, with bits of my Write Sisters entwined, to encircle my wrist. I feel so blessed to be loved and supported by this amazing group of women. I also have a huge posse coming to support me in our nation's capital: darling Neil, to whom Hattie Big Sky is dedicated; oldest child Tyler; baby girl Quinn and her adorable husband, Matt; and the two people who are responsible for my even being around, my parents, Dave and Donna Miltenberger. I'm going to post a picture of the two of them, with baby Kirby in the oven. There cannot be two cuter parents anywhere in the world!

I was feeling a bit silly about my entourage but then Susan Patron made me feel better by saying her crew is going to take up two whole banquet tables!

And then I realized what a stupid thing to feel silly about. I have people (and Susan does too!) who care enough to come all the way to Washington, D.C. to eat rubber chicken!

That made me feel like Lou Gehrig, without the reverb.

Today (and every day) I am the luckiest woman in the world.

Posted by kirby at 09:05 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

June 12, 2007

This Picture is Worth A Thousand Words

Left to right: Helen Ketteman, Tricia Gardella, me, Ann Whitford Paul, Mary Nethery. Missing Write Sisters: Dian Curtis Regan and Vivian Sathre

Posted by kirby at 09:41 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 10, 2007

"You've Got to Have Friends"

We quibble about exactly when we all met, but we do agree that it was Tricia Gardella who brought us all together. She cobbled together a group of writers who'd taken classes from Jane Yolen at Centrum and invited us all to stay at Ann Paul's house one August, before the annual SCBWI conference in Los Angeles. Seven of us stuck and called ourselves the Write Sisters and for the last nearly 20 years we've gathered at various locations (mostly Ann's!) to eat junk food, read manuscripts and walk.

Just a week or so ago we were together again. Not all of us: sisters Dian Curtis Regan and Vivian Sathre couldn't get away from their schedules. But they were there in spirit, that's for sure. Our den mother, Tricia, tore herself away from her 9000 enterprises, including an ice cream shop in Jamestown, CA and a kitchen store in Sonora.

These busy wonderful women managed to cook up the surprise of a lifetime for me. Through a complicated series of steps, they contacted Jon Barkat to obtain the original image of the cover of Hattie Big Sky and had it framed to present to me. Not only that, they'd circulated a card so that Vivian, Dian and even Jon could participate, even though they couldn't be in L.A.

Of course, there were tears. Mostly mine. My heart was so full, what else could I do? These are women who have been there for me since I read my first wretched manuscript aloud all those years ago. They are women who, no matter what has been going on in their personal or professional lives, have dropped everything to help me get a story just right. Or simply listened when things were tough.

This is the part of writing that is rarely addressed in craft books: the family that is created as we create character, plot and story. It's the part of our writing that never gets blurbed or starred reviews but it's the part we writers couldn't live without.

My tip for today: open your heart to your own writing family.

Perhaps you can make it without one.

But why on earth would you want to?

Posted by kirby at 09:16 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack