Pilgrimage

My novella “Pilgrimage” now appears in Cicada, the Cricket group’s magazine for young adults.  I read from this story at the first Four Stories event in Osaka.  I only read the first seven pages.  If there’s anyone out there who wants to find out how the story ends, maybe you can find a copy at your local library.

In this story, a young Japanese/American woman with cerebral palsy travels to Paris with her single sculptor mother and finds out the truth about her father.  There was originally a twins-separated-at-birth subplot, but then I came across The Memory Keeper’s Daughter and figured it was too coincidental.

Desperate Measures

Yesterday I took Lilia to the dentist for a check up. 

“Is she still sucking her thumb?” he asked.

“Um, yeah.”  I confessed that I wasn’t sure what to do about it, and that I was concerned about her overbite.

He proceeded to whip out an “appliance”.  It was pretty - sort of like a piece of handmade jewelery with curly metal bits.  Lilia loved it.  She started signing that she loved it and when I explained what it was for, she indicated that she wants to stop sucking her thumb.

“How long would she have to wear it for?”  I asked.

“About two years,” he said.  “But braces would take about three years.”

Then he handed me the payment schedule.  Turns out an appliance to get Lilia to stop sucking her thumb costs about the same as a year of private school.

That evening, I decided to try the yucky-tasting stuff I bought to get her to stop sucking her thumb.  I painted it on her thumbs just before bed.

True to form, soon after her head hit the pillow, Lilia stuck her thumb in her mouth.  UGH!!!  She hated the taste.  For some reason, she can’t out of bed by herself in the morning, but she got herself to the sink, washed her hands, and rinsed her mouth with water. 

*sigh*

I wish there was a patch.

My Big Fat Book Festival – Day 2

So back to the Decatur Book Festival…

I started out my morning with breakfast at a funky little cafe.  At the two tables across from me, there were two Asian/Caucasian couples and their children.  My family would fit right in, I thought, wondering how I could persuade my husband to move. 

When I wandered back to my hotel, I passed throngs of little girls dressed up like Madeline.  they were lining up for the Madeline parade.  I was torn between the parade, Nancie McDermott’s baking demonstration at Cook’s Warehouse, and a presentation by Randa Jarrar and Hadjii.  I opted for the latter.  I’ve been excited about Jarrar’s work ever since I read her story “You Are a  14-Year-Old Arab Chick Who Just Moved to Texas” and I’d already purchased her novel A Map of Home. 

I introduced myself to Randa, and to my surprise she remembered me from MySpace.  There were only a handful of people there to hear her speak, which taught me my first lesson:  The number of people in the audience/number of books sold at the event has nothing to do with the quality or success of the book.  A Map of Home has been getting fabulous reviews and seems to be selling briskly at Amazon.

Next, I mosied over to the Presbyterian Chapel (!) to hear Mommybloggers talk about Sleep is for the Weak.  This is the only event (except maybe whatever was going on under the hot sun in the children’s tent) where members of the audience had brought along babies. 

I stayed on for Patti Callahan Henry and Daniel Wallace.  Wallace read a section of his new novel, Mr. Sebastian and the Negro Magician,  from the point of view of an ossified girl.  He explained that he didn’t know the scientific name for her affliction, so later I told him – fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva.  In my introduction to Love You to Pieces, I wrote, “I suspect that Carol Zapata-Whelan’s story ‘Ordinary Time’ is the only piece of fiction in print that takes FOP as its subject.”  As it turns out, I was wrong.

I then took a break in the hospitality suite, where I had the pleasure of meeting best-selling Chinese writer Da Chen, before heading back over to the Presbyterian Chapel for “Marrying the Other Side of the Earth” – my presentation with Christina Thompson.  I read a bit of Losing Kei and talked about how I came to write the novel, and then Christina read from her book, and then people asked a lot of questions about Japan.

The book vendor at the Presbyterian Chapel was Charis Books, which pleased me to no end.  I told them that if I’d had the resources (time, money, babysitters) to do a proper book tour in the Southeast, their store was one I would have definitely wanted to visit, and that I was so glad they were the ones selling my novel on this day.  One of the women told me that they’d been stocking my books in their store all along.  Oh, happy me!

Later that evening, there was a reception put on by the Southern Independent Booksellers Alliance, and then a V.I.P. reception at the Courthouse.  By midnight, I was all schmoozed/partied out and threw myself into bed.

The Dangerous Days of Daniel X – Mother-Talk Blog Tour

When we got back from the States, there was a copy of The Dangerous Days of Daniel X by James Patterson and Michael Ledwidge waiting for us.  I’d signed up to review it for the Mother-Talk book tour, and knowing that it would be best tested on my nine-year-old son, I asked him if I could start to read it to him.  It was six o’clock in the morning.

He was unenthusiastic at first, but then I read a bit from the book flap.  “Says here it’s like a cross between Spiderman and X-Men.”  He perked up.  And then we sat down to read a few chapters.

“Read another chapter,” he said.  And then, that evening, “Can you read Daniel X to me?”  He was exhausted from jet lag, but he still wanted to hear about Daniel, the super-powered alien hunter, whose parents were brutally murdered by The Prayer.  (I was worried about this part, but it wasn’t quite as disturbing to him as the death of Babar’s mother had been a few years back.)  He laughed at the funny parts, didn’t get grossed out when girls appeared as love interests, and asked questions when he didn’t understand.  There have been some teachable moments to be sure.  For example, having been raised in Japan, he didn’t know what drug dealers were, but now he knwos that they’re bad. 

My son is still developing his reading skills in English, and I’m happy to report that he made a lot of progress over the summer.  Maybe by the time the next book in the series comes out, he’ll be able to read on his own.  For now, I’m intent on showing him that even books without pictures (i.e. the manga he so loves) can be wildly entertaining. 

We haven’t quite finished reading, but so far, so good.  Jio is in fact so interested, that he took it upon himself to read the press materials that came with the book.  Tonight we’ll be reading a few more chapters.  And then, quite possibly, we’ll be lining up to see the movie.

And James Patterson, if you’re reading this, I’ve noticed that you write a lot of books with other people.  I’d like you to consider me for future collaborations.  I’m willing to write about beach houses or ghosts, or maybe even aliens.  And it’s okay if your name on the book cover is bigger than mine.

The Sequined Sweater

So I’m in that surreal, hazy state of mind brought on by jet lag and lack of sleep and she says, “I need to talk to you.”  We sit down at the dining room table and she begins speaking in a very soft voice, presumably so that the neighbors, who live a hundred yards away, won’t be able to hear us.  She says something about her dresser, and I say, “What dresser?” 

“You don’t know?”

“No.  I’m not familiar with your furniture.  I never go in your bedroom.”

“Well, I found this.”  She shows me a beige jersey sweater with sequins around the neckline.  “You put it there, right?  It’s not mine.  I would never buy something all sparkly like this.”

Maybe she bought it for me, thinking I would like it, and then forgot all about it.  But I don’t say this.  “Could it be that someone gave it to you and you forgot?” I say.

She shakes her head.  “If you didn’t put it there, then someone else did.”

“Listen,” I say.  “Who but Santa Claus would go around hiding presents in your drawers?”

She chuckles, but I have done nothing to set her mind at rest.  “If it wasn’t you, then someone else is coming into my house.  It’s scary over there.”

The Sarah Myth

One of my colleagues at Literary Mama lives in Alaska.  Here’s what she has to say about Sarah Palin.

My Big Fat Book Festival – Day 1

It’s hard to believe that only one week ago I was in Decatur, among piles of books, and swarms of book lovers.  But I was, and I had a great time.  Thank you, Tom Bell, for organizing the festival and for inviting me to participate!!

I arrived in Atlanta around noon on Friday, and bumped into cookbook author, Nancie McDermott at the airport.  I knew from her bio that she’d been to Japan, and I found out later that her husband is from Taiwan.  I think I met all of the women writers married to foreigners at the Decatur Book Festival, including Cara Black, who met her Japanese husband while teaching English in Tokyo, and Christina Thompson, an instructor at Harvard whose marriage to a blue-collar Maori figures into her new book, Come Ashore and We Will Kill and Eat You All.

After checking into my hotel, I had chicken curry and fried plantains at Julie’s Cafe, a little Jamaican joint just down the street from the Courthouse, then made my way to Agnes Scott College for the Decatur Writer’s Workshop.  I sat in on the Writing for Children workshop, as presented by Cheryl Klein, an editor at Scholastic who served as the continuity editor for the Harry Potter books.  (She said that J.K. Rowling is a very nice person).

Later that evening, I attended Billy Collins’s keynote speech.  Here is where I confess that I’d never read Collins’s poetry, though of course I’d heard of him.  A few people had expressed their jealousy when they found out I’d be hearing him speak.  Now I know why.  He held an audience of 1,200 captive for an hour or so with his dry wit and casual delivery.  It was a wonderful evening.

I got to chatting with a couple of women who were sitting next to me.  They gave me a ride back to my hotel and told me that John McCain has chosen a woman, the governor of Alaska and mother of five to be his running mate.  A memorable occasion indeed.

Jet Lag and CP

Of all of us in this family, my daughter Lilia has had the hardest time with jet lag.  She is always the last to get back to normal sleeping patterns after a trip around half the world.  True to form, Jio managed to stay up till about 7Pm last night and slept till morning, after having returned to Japan from the U.S. the day before.   Lilia, however, fell asleep around 1PM and awoke at 11Pm.

I’ve always thought that this had something to do with one of her disabilities, but I wasn’t quite sure what.  Last night, after only three hours of sleep in 24 hours, I did an Internet search and discovered that children with cerebral palsy and ADHD (both neurological disorders) often have trouble sleeping.  It makes sense.  The pineal gland, which secretes melatonin, is in the brain, and my daughter’s brain is injured so it’s likely that the pineal gland is not always functioning so well in her case.  I also read that melatonin has been used to treat children with cerebral palsy who have a hard time sleeping.

This is probably something that most mothers of children with cerebral palsy already know about, but it was a revelation to me.

And the winner is…

Last night I had my twins draw a name each from a shoe box.  Congrats to Yessenia and Rob who will be getting a signed paperback of Matrimony by Joshua Henkin!

Better luck next time to the rest of you.  I’m planning another giveaway in November (if not sooner) when my first picture book, Playing for Papa, is published by Topka Press.

My Two Yen about Governor Palin

So.  I’m aware that there is already plenty of commentary swirling around in the blogosphere about John McCain’s choice of running mate, but I’ll add a few words here.

My first impression was that Governor Sarah Palin was a quirky and surprising – and even refreshing – choice.  I don’t see her as an alternative to Hilary, but it’s amusing to read about her exploits as a hockey mom who likes to hunt and dine on moose stew.  She seems very likable and from what I can tell, she’s done good deeds in Alaska.  And I find the idea of a special needs child in the White House appealing. 

But, as many have pointed out, I find it odd that Republicans are so quick to embrace a mother who knowingly gave birth to a child with Down syndrome, and yet balk at supporting the social programs that would help families of special needs kids and single moms. 

I’m also one of those liberal, feminist moms who thinks that maybe Palin should be spending a little bit more time with her son Trig.  When I wondered aloud to a Republican in the family about who would be taking care of the baby, that person replied, rather blithely, “Oh, someone will take care of him,” and then later went on about special schools for kids with Down syndrome.  Well, my daughter has been going to a special school since she was about one, but if I hadn’t put the effort into learning sign language, helping her with her homework, driving her to and from therapy, filling out lots of paperwork and making sure that she had a chance to get out in the world, her life would be very different – and we wouldn’t be able to communicate with her at all.  Call me old-fashioned, but I believe that the mothers of children with special needs (and in some cases the fathers) tend to be the children’s best advocates, and it is foolish to rely soley on “professionals” to ensure the future of these kids.