Feedback Gives Writers Energy

The story behind the book review.

Sam was given a special assignment to respond to a book of his choice with a project. He decided to write a book review.  I was thankful he was empowered to do something readers do in real life after finishing books. “Where will your book review go?” I asked.

He shrugged. “IDK, Mom. Maybe on the teacher’s desk.” (Sam is obsessed with acronyms. Although quirky, it does add to his charm.)

I said, “You know, I have lots of friends who write reviews. I write reviews too. It’s something readers do when they want to share a book. I often read books because of my friends’ reviews. They’re important to readers.”

 He shrugged and went back to reading his book. A few days later he said, “Do kids have blogs?"

I smiled. Sometimes the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. “What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I thought if I write a book review, maybe I should put it on a blog. Then other people could read it and I could help them. I’ve read a lot of Titanic books and I know just the one to recommend.”

 “A blog is a pretty big commitment for a writer,” I said.

 He added a few more pieces to his Lego creation. “Maybe I should just take over your blog. That’s what Chloe does. Do you think people who read your blog would want to know about a Titanic book?”

“You want to hijack my blog?"

His big smile and wide eyes were a loud Yes!

I loaned him some sticky notes so he could figure out what people would be most interested in knowing about his book. I also made him promise (raised-his-right-hand-and-everything) that he would do his best writing. “My readers don’t want to read junk, and they like punctuation and capital letters!” I told him as seriously as possible.

On a snow day we spent a lot of time reading book reviews on blogs. It gave him a sense of the possibilities as well as helped him hear the sound of a review. As he thought more about the audience – a real audience – he decided he should add some pictures. He knew he wanted to share a Lego Titanic and a picture of the book. After we typed his review, he decided to add a photo of his draft and his sticky notes. “Teachers really like to see drafts, right?” he asked. (I think he just wanted to take another picture.)

The next morning he couldn't wait to see if anyone commented. "It's only been live for 90 minutes!" I said. "You might have to wait until tonight."

On the way to school, he used my phone to check for comments. "Chloe left a comment! Woohoo!" He read Chloe's comment aloud for everyone to hear. "Chloe is the most hysterical pen pal dog in the world!" (I didn't point out that Chloe might be the only pen pal dog in the world.)

His teacher gave him time to share his book review with the class and to talk about writing a blog post. (They are just beginning their own class blog.) "There were lots of comments by reading time, Mom!" he said when I talked to him on the phone on my way home from school.

It was the feedback that added energy to his writing life. Tomorrow he is planning to respond to his "fans" (as he calls anyone who left a comment). 

Getting to watch a young writer from the front lines, affirms to me the importance of feedback. He wants to write more because of the feedback. I'm left wondering how we can provide this experience for an entire classroom of young writers. I'm sure the answer lies in authentic reading and writing experiences and connecting  through social media.

Thank you to all who left a comment and invested in the life of a young writer. You made his day and you touched my heart. Thank you.

Yo-Ho-Ho {Pirate Inspired Writing Instruction}

September 19 is International Talk Like a Pirate Day (link takes you to Wikipedia; here is the official site).  Next to Christmas, this may just be my favorite!  A little known secret is that I’m an avid pirate-lover.  I love all things Pirate (except for the baseball team) -- I even created a pirate picture book list for this year's #pb10for10.

For years we've been talking like pirates on September 19. In the past, these things have been said...

Avast me hearties, I said as we left the house.
Well, shiver me timbers, Steph said in surprise when she saw her favorite cereal.
Ahoy Mateys, Hannah practiced telling her friends before walking out the door this morning.
And my absolute favorite, Sam (at age two) said to me I was taking off his Pirate costume  (yes, the little guy was obsessed too): Momma, I’m a pirate.  I don’t need jammies.  I am Swashbuckling Sam.  I’m a pirate, don’t take it off.  Momma, you landlubber,  WALK THE PLANK!

(Yes, that is honestly a direct quote.  He used to wear an eye patch for a few hours each day to correct a "crazy eye" so he learned at an early age to perfect his pirate-lingo!)

Writing workshop is a perfect place to celebrate Talk Like a Pirate Day. Perhaps some of these ideas will work their way into your plans for next Thursday. Avast ye –

1. Make maps in your writer’s notebooks.  Use “X” to mark the spot where stories have happened.  Need more inspiration for some kooky maps?  Check out Sara Fanelli’s book, My Map Book.
2. Use International Talk Like a Pirate Day as a way to enter into a conversation on voice.
3. Read Henry and the Buccaneer Bunnies to talk about the importance of writing with meaning.  (Henry is an avid reader — another excellent use for this book — and helps the Buccaneers survive due to all of the knowledge he has gleaned from books.  It may be a stretch, but I think it would work for a lesson on writing with meaning!)

Here on the home front, we will read pirate books all week and on Thursday we'll eat “Fish & Chips,” and drink root beer from dark bottles.

Savey, Mateys?

[parts of this post originally shared online on 09.19.2008]

opening books together

"I'd rather stay home with Mom." I'm not even joking, these are the exact words out of Sam's mouth when we asked him to get ready to go to Club Riot, the Wednesday evening meeting for kids every March and October. The girls love it. Sam always opts to stay home.

I thought he'd go this time around.
Is it bad that a little part of me is glad he turned it down again to stay home with me?

Before the rest of the family was even out of the garage, Sam and I were snuggled on the couch with a nonfiction book about hurricanes. "I've been waiting for you to get to read this one with me," he said. "Now's a perfect time because we won't be rushed." I'm not even joking, he wanted to stay home to read together -- not because he thought he'd get extra iPad time.

We read some and talked some, read some and talked some. The talk was about hurricanes, but other things too. He told me stories about recess and math, this friend and that, tornadoes and the way they are the same and different from hurricanes.

We read some and talked some. He asked me about heaven. It surprised me.

"Do you think we'll be sad when we die?"

"No, we won't be sad. You aren't sad in heaven."

"What does it feel like to go to heaven?"

"I don't know."  I've thought a little about it, but not a lot.

"Does anyone know?"

"Some people do. Another teacher at school was telling me about a book he's reading about a little boy who had emergency surgery and went to heaven. He lived after the surgery and told his parents about what he experienced. Then they wrote his story. The book is called Heaven is for Real."

"Have you read it?" I'm beginning to think Sam has thought about going to heaven a lot more than I have.

"No. Do you want to read it?"

"Do you have it?"

"No, but I could get it if you want to read it."

He looked up at me, his blue eyes wide. "Of course I want to read it. You know I love books."

I smiled. "I'll get a copy then."

"Thanks, Mom. That's a good thing about our family. We get books."

Then he turned the page of the hurricane book in our laps. He read the sidebar information aloud. I tried to concentrate, but it was hard snuggled against this remarkable reader. From hurricanes to heaven and back to hurricanes. Later he will be snuggled in his own bed, reading book one of Harry Potter.

In the swirl of a family of six sometimes it's hard to find quiet moments to snuggle with just one child and a book. It's a moment I will treasure. I know there will come a time when he will not choose me over an evening with friends. There will come a time when he will not want to snuggle under the same blanket as me.There will come a time when he won't have the time to sit and talk for over an hour.

Until then, I'm going to keep opening books and listening to him read and talk, talk and read. And I'm ordering this tonight. Maybe if we keep opening books together he'll keep talking to me.

Click on the image to join us at
Two Writing Teachers for the Slice of
Life Story Challenge.

writing group

It's been more than a month since my writing group met and I'm beginning to feel the kinks that come from missing a workout. We were supposed to meet last Friday, but due to conflicts, changed our meeting to Wednesday, December 21. (You do realize that's four days before Christmas, Tam pointed out. We didn't care, though, because we had to meet.)

I've been thinking about my writing group a lot since the hardest revision ever, which I think is a funny name because the next time I'm faced with some revision work, like I am for my current professional WIP -- Can you, like, totally rework all of the chapters you sent me in June? last week's email read -- it will then be the hardest revision ever, because it is quite possible that the revision in front of my nose is the hardest ever.

I sent out the new beginning and have been thinking a lot about the different roles each of the members play in my writing life. They are all crucial. A long time ago I read a post by Natalie Whipple about her crit group. I went back and reread it. It's worth the read...and inspires me to consider the "arsenal" of my crit group. Like Natalie, I am blessed with phenomenal crit partners, with a wide variety of strengths.

Tammy makes me feel like I can do it. She makes me realize it's okay to slow down and eat pie or drink end-of-the-school-year punch with my family. She completely dotes on me and makes me feel like the life I'm living is worthwhile.

Tam gives me perspective and insight. She always looks at things from a different perspective than I do, and I adore her for this. She is my go-to person for titles, quirky language, and conventions. She says things like, "You really don't like the comma or exclamation point, do you?"

Mary Helen is bubbly and happy and understands the crazy-chaos of life. She inspires me to keep putting words on the page because I watch how hard she is working to do the same. I know writing isn't easy for her, yet she comes back to it again and again and again. It makes me do the same. Mary Helen reads closely and gives me insight into teenagers. She tells me when they're off in my story and when they are behaving like teens. She helps me think of the tiny defining details. She gives me lots of positive feedback, but she's brave too, and tells me when things aren't working.

Ruth knows my YA work better than anyone, maybe even better than myself. She listens. She lets me ramble on about the characters, who they are, what their back stories reveal, how they interact, what they like, what they don't -- and she talks about them like they're real. She'll read my notebooks and say back to me what she notices. She peppers my drafts with questions, letting me know when it's reading true (or not) to the character and when it feels right (or not) to the reader. She helps me see things I missed because I'm too close to the story (or too busy trying to avoid going where the characters are leading.) She's honest, but gentle, and let's me know when I need to quit following a road or when I need to relax and see where the characters lead.

I could not be the writer I am without these women. I'm struck by the way together -- as a group -- we can be what one another needs. Our writing lives are vastly different, but a single group can meets these diverse need. It's remarkable. If you are writing, then I encourage you to find a handful of people to meet and share your work with...it's one of the best ways to grow.

notebook #4 for my current wip

I've been playing with characters for a new YA story since April. About six weeks ago, I started to play with a draft. Last month at writing group, Ruth helped me think through the structure of my story. It was giving me fits and we finally realized it's a story told from two voices -- and with flashbacks. Ruth insisted that I let Krums, a teenage boy, into my head to help tell the story.

It was painful, but I did it. For a month I've had a teenage guy talking to me, telling me his side of things. At one point, this showed up in my notebook (it's from Sophia) --

Straight from Soph's heart and  into my notebook.

Last Thursday our writing group met again. Ruth and I had the following conversation (She's an actual person...this isn't a conversation with myself. Here's her blog for proof -- but don't be fooled by the sweet persona. She is more like an evil drill sergeant.):

Vicious Ruth: You are writing a love story.

Me: I. Am. Not.

Incessant Ruth: You are too. You have two main characters, a boy and a girl, and a couch. It's a love story.

Me: Is not.

Brutal Ruth: If you want it to be more than fluff you have to dig into their back stories. The stuff you wrote about Sophia's past was powerful. There's more there.

Me: No there's not. That was the only horrible thing that happened in her life.

Ruthless Ruth: You're lying. It's not going to be easy, but you know there's more there.

Me: Major eye roll. It's not a love story.

Atrocious Ruth: It is a love story, but it's more. You need to dig into Krums' history too.

Me: I let him into my head, what more do you want?

Relentless Ruth: You need to listen to before to understand who he is now. And I'm not surprised you found him to be sensitive.

Me: Sigh. Then a bigger sigh.


Unreasonable Ruth: Just write the back story. It doesn't mean it'll be in the book, but I think you need to know it so you can write the kind of story you want it to be.

Me: What if I don't want to know their histories. I'm afraid it'll hurt too much.

Sinister Ruth: Then don't do it and write a fluffy love story.

Me: It's not a love story.

Ghastly Ruth: It is a love story, but you can make it more. Just let them tell you their back stories.

Me: Maybe I'll give up.

Why-I-listen-to-her Ruth: No you won't. You can't leave them where they are. Besides you need to write this story. Not only that, but you can write this story. First you need to dig into Krums and Sophia's pasts, though.

That night, after writing group, at 11:18 pm, I started a notebook just to record Krums & Soph's back stories. Here are the first two pages (and probably the only pages I'll share out of it).

First page of writer's notebook #4.

Either write now or write later...I might as well get started!

 Less than a week of listening to their back stories and I'm already gaining more of a vision for the draft. I can see how the past and the present are woven together. I think I might have the smartest, extremely brilliant, and amazing crit partner on the face of the earth. (Of course, she had to be a little atrocious first...but I imagine that's what makes her so remarkable.)

Conversation Between Writers

The predictable nature of a conversation 
between a teacher and student during writing workshop.

The conversation I have about my writing with other writers is crucial to my work. Without those conversations, I would sputter out, fizzle, take the wrong turn. It is critical to talk about writing with others.

The same is true for the student writers in our classrooms. They need the chance to talk about their writing. On Monday I posted about how I thought I would teach second grade writers about the different roles in a conference. As is the usual case, as I thought more about it, the focus took on a different direction. Instead of teaching about the roles in a conference, I decided to teach the predictable nature of a conversation about writing.

I've come to believe it is important to teach children why writers talk about their writing, as well as the way the conversation usually unfolds. This kind of teaching lifts the level of a conference, which in turn lifts the level of our instruction.  Often the conversation I have about my writing with my crit partner follows this same structure. It's how we grow as writers.

I video taped the minilesson and hope to share it with you soon. I'm just waiting for permission to post the footage from the classroom.