Kids & Writing by Dr. Q

First, let me say a heartfelt Thank You to all the men and women in uniform who've given their lives to keep us safe and free. Have a wonderful Memorial Day holiday.

And since this blog is also about being a mom, I'm super excited to welcome great bloggy friend Dr. Susan Quinn (link) who has a brand new book out (see below) and is guest posting on how to get your kids writing.

A great potential summer activity!

So without further ado~

Ten Ways To Get Kids To Write

by Susan Kaye Quinn

Getting my kids to write was slightly less painful than delivering them into the world, but a lot more frustrating. Because it goes on for years and years and years ...

When I tell people that my 13 year old son Dark Omen wrote a novel and is now working on the sequel, they give me this knowing look, like, Well, of course! What did you expect? You're a writer!

If they only knew.

None of my boys (ages 8, 11, 13) enjoyed writing when they were younger (in the case of 8 year old Mighty Mite, we're still in that nooooooo stage of the writing experience). But I'm a patient mom (er, sometimes), and in the spirit of my Twelve Tips for Reluctant Readers post, I've pulled together Ten Ways to Get Kids to Write:

When the boys were little, we had a mini-easel that was chalk on one side and marker on the other. It spread chalk dust like crazy and we were always having to clean it, but having writing materials easily available (Way #1) meant we could stop and draw letters or cats (lots of cats) at any time.

Later, when they were in school, there was lots of writing time during the year, but during breaks and summer, I stapled together pages of writing paper with a construction paper "cover." This "book" was theirs to decorate, but they had to write a sentence (or paragraph or page, depending on the age) in it every morning, setting a regular time for writing (Way #2) - interestingly, Dark Omen still does most of his writing in the morning.

Sometimes I gave writing themes (Way #3), like Christmas lights or going to the pool, but mostly I let them write whatever they wanted (Way #4), even if it was only "I hate writing." (They thought this was the height of funny.)

When they were older and could write longer passages, I enlisted the help of writing workbooks (Way #5) - get the good ones, they're worth it - with worksheets on grammar as well as narrative writing. To mix it up a little, I also gave them assignments (Way #6): write a letter (from a list of our relatives), write a poem, write a song, write a recipe.

Here it helped to have a variety of writing supplies (Way #7), from index cards to fancy stationary. The most inspiring writing materials were consistently any notebook or writing material of an odd shape or texture or origin (Way #8), whether tiny spiral bound notebooks or giant sized, cardboard-latched binders.

My boys even spent one hilarious night writing secret notes on the backs of fortune cookie slips.

As long as they were writing, I was happy.

Note: most of the time I was not happy because they were not writing. I tried to give them a journal (Way #9) - not a diary - but that was met with scorn.

My final Way is not really a technique, but an attitude: cultivate patience and don't give up (Way #10).

Kids all develop at their own rates and it may take time (a lot of time, years worth of time) before they reach the milestones you want. But just like reading, writing is an essential skill that will wither if not actively encouraged.

Now, I have to pull Dark Omen away from his spiral notebook that he relentlessly fills with words and characters and stories. I have to tell him to eat breakfast before writing, to make sure it gets in him before he has to run to the bus and Junior High. And if I had told my younger-parent-self  that my oldest son would some day be a novelist, I would have had a good laugh.

And I probably needed it, too.

If that's not enough ideas to keep you from tearing out your hair, Imagination Soup has ten more writing activities for kids.

May the Odds be Always in Your Favor.*

*Getting kids to write isn't quite as brutal as the Hunger Games, but somehow the analogy seems apt.

What ways have worked for you?

~~*~~

Closed Hearts (Mindjack #2)
$2.99 at Amazon, Barnes and Noble (ebook and print)

When you control minds,
only your heart can be used against you.

Susan Kaye Quinn is the author of the bestselling YA novel Open Minds, Book One of the Mindjack Trilogy, which is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and iTunes. The sequel Closed Hearts has just been released. Susan's business card says "Author and Rocket Scientist," but she mostly plays on Twitter, Facebook, and Pinterest.

Missed Again & an Announcement

Yes, Phil Collins said it best when he said, "Ah, I missed again."

After setting myself up last week, I did in fact miss a day in the 30K in 30 Days challenge. And yes, that means it's embarrassing video time!

(That's the penalty for missing a day--warning to all those who said they wanted to jump on for April.)

I'm not sure which is more embarrassing, my silly face at the start there, or the fact that I totally missed my foot on my first hacky sack attempt.

Anywho, for your amusement, here I go (again). With my lovely assistant Laura; videography by Cat.

And now for the announcement: I'm taking a blog break for the month of April. 

It's just too much, guys, and most of you are doing the A-Z Challenge (link) anyway. So I know you'll be too busy to miss me. It's a far more selfless thing I do...

No, I'll just be over here writing and working like crazy, and unless I miss a day, I won't be posting again until May 7. So if something major happens, would someone please shoot me an email? Thanks!

Have a super month, reader- and writer-friends! I'll be thinking of you. Back soon~ <3

In my head, zombie

My youngest daughter is hilariously extreme. I'll give you an example.

I'll be brushing her hair and hit a snag. She'll cry out, "Ow!" Then pout, "You love to hurt me." Or she'll make a statement of fact, like, "It's hotter here than in south Alabama," and I'll say, "Well, not really. It just seems that way today." Her response? "You just think I'm stupid."

The first time she did this, I was alarmed. Was my child suffering from a horrible low-self-esteem issue? I didn't see any additional evidence of that. She had friends, did well in school...

The second and third times, it was funny, and I'd hug her and tell her to stop being ridiculous. After a while, it became incredibly frustrating because it was like she simply shut down and didn't want to learn or work with me.

She's just a little kid, so my goal is to help her grow out of it. But then I catch myself doing the same thing!

OK, I'm not going around declaring everyone thinks I'm stupid, but I'll catch myself, when met with criticism of a piece of writing or a particular scene thinking, "This is just stupid, I should just trash the whole thing. I'm the worst writer ever."

It's Laura--and she's in my head! Like that "Zombie" song by The Cranberries. (Wasn't that the worst thing? Talk about a message getting stuck in your head, and what did it even mean?)

Anyway, am I the only person who does this?

I can say (with help) I've learned to push back on those mental messages that I stink and I should stop wasting time every day and start pounding the pavement and get a Real Job and etc., etc., but occasionally they'll still pop up.

When my daughters are playing together, my oldest will sometimes yell downstairs to me, "Mom! Tell Laura to stop being ridiculous!"

That makes me laugh because my oldest is a true mini-me. I have to watch what I say, because it will be repeated back to me. In the same tone of voice even.

So I'm telling myself (and any of my reader- or writer-friends out there who might be in the same boat as me): Stop being ridiculous. Just because you get a bit of criticism or a helpful suggestion, take it. Don't close up shop or believe you stink.

And if you're hearing the same message over and over, look at what it's saying. Maybe its an area that needs a little focused attention.

Wow. Some unexpected inspiration for the weekend--have a great one! Til Monday~ <3

Something in the water

In June I posted about how the oil spill had ruined one of my favorite sources of inspiration. And once the oil made landfall here the week after Memorial Day, I didn't go down to the Gulf again.

I talked to friends who have houses or timeshares on the water, and they told me about the Dawn stations where the tourists wash off after going in. It just made me feel... ill.

I couldn't see it like that.

So I didn't go. All summer. For the first time in possibly my entire life.

And I've felt it. A sadness like when someone dear goes on a long trip--you miss more than just their voice, you miss being near them.

Last week fall activities started here, and while my daughters take ballet at the same studio, their classes are on different days. And the studio is too far to drive home during class.

So Monday I had the bright idea that my youngest and I would do a little mother-daughter bonding during this time. Right? 

Wrong. She was totally mad and pouty--she wanted to play with her Zhu Zhu pet. Then she announced next week would be so much better because Grammy would be here. (And would let her take her ZZ pet everywhere, I suppose.)

Still we dropped off her sister, stopped at the Fast Time to get her an Icee and then drove a bit further south to Fairhope where I parked and we walked out to sit on one of the piers and watch the bay wash in.

We were facing west, but it was before 5 p.m., so the sun wasn't in our eyes yet. She sat beside me, and I crossed my arms on top of my knees and watched her look out across the water. First she pointed directly across from us at what looked like a lighthouse and some condos down around Dauphin Island.

"That's where Daddy works," she said.

I guided her little pointer to her right, northward, to the larger buildings and towers we could also see through the haze and told her that was where Daddy worked. (In Mobile.)

Then she looked to her immediate right at the weathered, gray remnants of a pier that had been swept away by either Hurricane Ivan or Katrina. Both storms were pretty rough on the Fairhope-Point Clear area. We live north of Interstate 10 on the bluffs, so we don't get the six-foot waves in our living rooms during hurricanes.

Seagulls were all perched on the remaining piles that extended in a line out into the water. She thought they were funny all sitting there staring south like statues. I smiled and noticed how the sun lit up the peach fuzz that still covers her little chubby cheeks and down around her jawline.

Then she put her head down in my lap for a few minutes. "I'm going to write about how this was the best day ever and we looked at the seagulls and you hugged me," she said.

The oil is slowly going away, and the beauty is returning. It's interesting to me that although time has passed and we've missed our favorite place, its power to inspire is still so strong.

Eat, Pray, Live, Laugh

I haven't read the book Eat, Pray, Love, and I'm not knowledgeable about the author who wrote it. So it's not fair for me to say it looks like the story of a spoiled little rich... *a'hem* grown woman whose boyfriend broke up with her so she took this amazing trip to the Far East.

Plus that would reveal an unpleasant, green-eyed attitude I try to resist... ;o)

The movie trailers do make me think about food, though.

I was in Baton Rouge last weekend, and I have to confess. Growing up in south Louisiana, *I* was very spoiled. I had no idea that the fact that any schmo off the street can whip up a delicious dinner for you at the drop of a hat was unique.

It's not that hard. Just take three ingredients--OK, four: butter (or olive oil), onion, bell pepper, and garlic. Add anything to that with some tomatoes and a touch of cayenne pepper, and it always comes out right.

Looking back, all the good times in the 30 years I lived there centered around big, delicious meals. A high school friend recently asked me if I was homesick. LTM: always.

But there are problems back home. The schools have changed, the population has changed since Katrina, and I think when you live somewhere and have a golden time there, moving back to recapture it... well, it never really works out, does it?

JRM and I had this conversation about Indy a while back. As many happy memories as we have of being there, it's not the same now either.

So life moves on.

You live places, you share a lot of laughs with people you love. You stay connected (hopefully--I know I'll get some feedback on that right now...)

Also while we were in Baton Rouge, my youngest daughter turned seven.

My dad and I were charged with getting her cake, which we did. She wanted a big cookie with purple icing that said "Happy Birthday, Laura!"

I tried to prepare her--we hadn't actually planned this (I have a big party planned for both daughters next week), so we might not be able to find that exact thing...

And then we did. We found exactly what she wanted.

Then I got sidetracked looking at something, Dad tried to help me, and he dropped the cake. Naturally, it landed upside down.

For a moment we stood there staring at it, stunned until we carefully picked it up and...

The nice thing about cookie cakes is if you drop them just right, they don't break. This one only had a little smudged icing that was easily fixed.

And then I started to giggle... Before long we were absolutely cracking up. We laughed the whole way home, and all day whenever I thought about my poor dad's face right after the cake hit the floor I chuckled again.

Anyone who doesn't know my dad won't understand that he's always been a tad on the klutzy side... (it's where I get it from!) And my daughter's named for him, so she tends to be his little sidekick.

I don't know about you guys, but it's been a tough year. And I don't get a trip to India to make it all better... or some semi-hunky French dude.

But I'm happy that looking back, there's no way I can feel sorry for myself (or be sour-grapesey with the author of EPL).

Lately I've been praying all the time. And I'm trying not to be selfish with it. I pray you see the ways you're so blessed and lucky, too.

Have a great weekend, reader friends! Book review Monday~

Funny Kid

My youngest child absolutely destroys clothing. I'm not kidding. Yesterday she came home with a hole in her uniform shirt. I asked her if she did it on purpose, and she said yes without blinking.

But it's not just clothes that she's hard on. Her knees are going to have permanent scuff-marks on them before she's in middle school.

She's very much a character from a book I just finished reading. I wouldn't have believed the author if she hadn't been describing my offspring.

I was watching her and my oldest child playing in the back yard last week, and she would hit the ground with serious force and then roll over laughing. I'm beginning to think she also suffers from that disorder where one doesn't feel pain. Well, except when I'm brushing her hair.

Now I'll admit, I was a messy kid. Mom likes to say dirt would jump on me. The truth is I liked playing in the dirt. Laura likes playing in the mud.

I called her Pigpen until she became a huge fan of Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving and then Christmas specials. Then I dropped it, although, I'm not convinced she would've cared.

These days I just call her the Master of Mess.

Mom says I'm speaking it on her. Mom's a big believer in the power of speech to influence outcomes. I keep telling Mom to repeat "Debut Novel will be a bestseller." (Maybe I should tell her to add "this year.")

So I switched tack and started telling Laura to be neater than she could possibly be. I told her that was her one goal. So far it's not working.

I remembered one of my brother's girlfriends saying she wore toughskins as a child. I also remembered my uncle saying my aunt, his little sister, wore her shoes from the insides out. (She ran around barefoot a lot.)

Both of these women are extremely clean and well-adjusted members of society now. We live in hope.

A dear friend of mine claims Laura is going to grow up and be an artist because she's very interested in touching things and feeling textures. I think that's a very positive spin to put on the situation.

I suppose when she grows up and becomes a famous artist, she can write a book about her insensitive mother and how I attempted to supress her budding artistic talents.

I declare it to be a bestseller.

Musical Inspiration & Junie B. Jones

I've been reading different writer's blogs lately, and I've found that (like me) a lot of writers use music to get ideas for plot and character development.

It makes total sense because songwriters have to get in and out so fast, they can only hint at characters or situations and convey the emotion of them. It's a great jumping off point for a writer.

I remember being a kid and hearing "Don't Cry for Me Argentina" from the Evita soundtrack. I loved the melody, and I imagined this entire storyline around it based on the few words I remembered. I was a little disappointed when I finally saw the show. Kind of like seeing the movie version of a book you really liked.

Speaking of that, I can only think of one movie version of a book that I thought was really well done. (OK, two if you count that BBC miniseries of Pride & Prejudice.) Curious? It was Bridget Jones's Diary.

That was the first (and only) time I walked out of a movie feeling like it did a great job capturing the spirit of the book. I'm trying to think if I can remember another... Anybody got one?

Catherine recently went through all those Diary of a Wimpy Kid books, and she's So Excited about the movie opening this weekend. I've only read half of the first book, so I wasn't sure about the movie. But Richard stopped me to watch the trailer on TV the other morning and it looks funny.

I wonder if it's just the diary books that translate.

The girls are also into Junie B. Jones. We've read about six of her books so far, and I happen to love Junie B. Jones. Richard says she doesn't use proper English, and the other day Laura came in and said JBJ "says bad words."

To Richard, I said it didn't matter; to Laura, I said, "Wha--?"

This is coming from the child who took ballet for a year, and while showing me the different positions she learned, she threw in "Position 14."

Position 14 involves turning your backside to the audience, sticking it out and then shaking it from side to side slowly. Sort of like a burlesque.

It was her Grandpaw's favorite ballet move of the year and he demanded repeat performances every time he saw her. He also likes to write on her with ink pens. Grandpaw's a character.

A while back I told Richard I was afraid Laura would grow up to be our Sarah Silverman child because of all her stunts, but I got my casting wrong. She's very concerned because JBJ says "stupid," "dumb," and "darn."

So maybe she'll be our Gypsy Rose Lee rather than our Sarah Silverman. I wonder if she realizes Mommy uses these words. I suppose I shouldn't be such a potty mouth.

I hear they're making another Eloise movie--this time in Paris with Uma Thurman as Nanny. I never imagined Nah-nee looking like Uma Thurman. Nah-nee's more Mrs. Garrett from The Facts of Life.

I love love love movies, so I'm sure the girls and I will be there for E in P. I'd like to see JBJ made into a movie. Maybe we'll have that to look forward to before long as well.

I hope it's not rated R for language.

SSTW The Movie

We did it! Star Saves the World is on film. Below is the link to the finished product, and I'm happy to report the little members of the cast are pleased with the results.

See what you think (link)~

That last line is "Where would the world be without orange cats?"
Reply, "I don't know!"

Good stuff.

Star Saves the World

[First off, my husband noted that my last post could've used a good editor. My response: I was making my point for me.]

So Star Saves the World. Last fall when I was in the throes of finishing Debut Novel, my daughters decided to write books, too. (Love them!)

Catherine started The Secret of the Nile, which I think she's still writing, and Laura wrote Star Saves the World, Book 1.

I think it's awesome she added "Book 1." As if at six years old she realizes the world is most likely going to need saving again.

Anyway, so Catherine's still writing. Hers is a thriller. An unexplained scream in the night and two girls--Charlotte and Monica--are trying to figure out what it could be.

Can I just say my children are superstars?

In this case I'm most impressed with their ability to just come up with great character names. Just like that. The hardest thing for me to do when writing my books was come up with names for everybody. Sheesh. I agonized over it. One of the my main characters went through five name changes. No joke.

Regardless, Star Saves the World (Book 1) is complete. We've all read it, laughed over it, pronounced it the best book ever written, and yesterday, as I was working at the computer, Laura came in and handed me a note. Very official.

It read, "Dear Mommy, How can you make Star Saves the World into a movie?"

Everything stopped.

Uhh... Well, honey. A lot of writers ask that question... Mommy's not really sure.

You have to understand, Laura wrote and illustrated her book. The left-hand pages contain the story and the right hold her drawings of Star, who is a cat; Star's sidekick Princess, another cat; and Star's baby Jessica.

They all have little adventures, take naps, and eat lots of snacks. Laura reads the story to Catherine, and they both collapse into giggles. It's really a big deal for them.

So I thought about it.

Well, I told her, how about we do this: 1-We cast it. (Decide which of her toys are going to play which roles.) 2-We write the script. Then 3-We plan it out. (You know, storyboard it.)

Laura was concerned. "How will Star go to the different states?" (To save the world, she travels around the country.)

Richard says, "Sorry, kid. For your first picture, no location shots."

I kicked him and suggested we use our USA puzzle map and let Little Toy Star be in the different states using the puzzle pieces. Laura prefers getting large pieces of paper and drawing the states. (OK! It's her movie, after all.)

I have a digital video recorder, so we can at least film something. My fear is she's expecting Avatar (The Last Airbender), and she's going to get Gumby. But anyway, we're giving it a try. Whatever we end up creating, I'll put somewhere if you're interested in seeing it.

Now I'm wondering how we're going to create that mysterious scream for Catherine's movie...

It's the Freakin Weekend

I love how rap stars are such masters of the rhyme. It would never occur to me that "jam" and "a.m." rhyme, but it totally works.

Masters.

So it's Saturday! Yay! On tap for today, play-time with the kids, try to squeeze in a run, Catherine says she wants to try Chinese buffet. (What?) This should be interesting... Maybe I can talk her into the Oyster House instead.

Everyone get out, have fun, play wih the kiddies and we'll catch up on Monday! I'm thinking about two things... self-publishing and Tiger Woods. Not necessarily in that order.

More soon~

***We interrupt this non-blogging weekend to bring you a special report.***

PARENTING TEST #437

Some of you are aware that youngest daughter is also affectionately known as "Ramona" at our house. Well, currently Ramona's going through a game phase, and she's extremely competitive with Beezus. Can't imagine where she gets it...

So we're happily playing a game of Sorry, during which Beezus "sorrys" Ramona (i.e., sends her back to start). This provokes the whining, refusal to go back to start, etc. Me, as Calm Mediator, notes that "Look! Now we all have one pawn in Start."

Not helping.

Ramona insists on pushing her pawn back to where it was, to which I (more firmly) respond, "Now. Don't act like that." And move her pawn back to Start.

At this point, my youngest daughter, being the little lady she is, straightens up, places her hands on her hips, looks me squarely in the face, and toots.

Yep.

Daddy immediately strides out of the room leaving me alone to reprimand her and NOT LAUGH.

I think of Hitler, the atrocities that occurred during the Holocaust... Oh, and heck yeah, all those images coming out of Haiti. (Thanks, Meredith Viera!) I calmly put the game away, instruct giggling oldest daughter to go upstairs and play on the Peep website while youngest daughter fetches her notebook.

She is currently writing 25 times "I will not act ugly during games."

Sigh.

Test passed. (How much is finishing school again?)

I'm thinking those kids who picket the World Bank could take a few pages from youngest daughter's book. Or those PETA folks. She could teach them a thing or two about nonviolent protest.

Final thought: Heck, ya'll! It's 65 degrees outside! That's practically warm enough for a beach run! Wooo! Can I get a witness?