Lucky

This week's blog is a revision of last week's post. Enjoy!

Whoa.

That's the first word that popped into my head when I opened up the email from Nan Gregory, the author of the picture book Pink. She said she read my post from two weeks ago, where I mentioned her name a few times, while digging deeper into the meaning of picture books, especially her Pink. She said she enjoyed my "vote of confidence" and that it was encouraging to read my response.

I've been thinking a lot about authors. Especially since I'm interested in becoming a writer myself. I realize how lucky I am to be in contact with authors, I should feel really grateful to be in this position. I have many people to thank. An example, my father knows Jonathan Safran Foer, who is a member of his synagogue. And an author who lives in Park Slope. I love having so many mentors, it's so interesting, how much you can learn from them. It makes me want to be a mentor for someone else, not just a writing mentor. Any kind of mentor. They are all special in their own way.

I've been wondering, and asking myself, whether or not I'd be the same person I am now, if my dad wasn't in contact with Jonathan or if I simply wasn't so lucky to know authors and have one emailing me. And if not, would I want to be a writer? Would I still have found myself mentors? Would I still have been provoked to take the time to look up a certain picture book, look up the author, and then have that author email me? And then I think a bit more off topic, that what if something in my life didn't exist? Or something extra was in my life? Who would I be? But that's a separate blog entry.

To rap up my entry, I say one thing. Always have a mentor. And one day, it might catch you by surprise, but you find you've been lucky enough to become one for someone else.

Writers

Whoa.

That's the first word that popped into my head when I opened up the email from Nan Gregory, the author of the picture book Pink. She said she read my post from last week, where I mentioned her name a few times, while digging deeper into the meaning of picture books, especially her Pink. She said she enjoyed my "vote of confidence" and that it was "encouraging" to read my response.

I've been thinking about authors, especially ones I'm lucky enough to know and simply be emailing. Especially because I'm very interested in becoming a writer myself. It's great to have so many mentors, and at such a young age too!

I am currently reading the book Saving Juliette by Suzanne Selfors. But with my mother, I am reading Jonathan Safran Foer's book, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. My father knows Jonathan, a member of his synagogue. I mean, think about it. To have an author email me is one thing, one huge thing. And then to actually know, and talk to, and meet an author? That's insane. Amazing. As Ms. Robbins, my 7th grade English teacher, said after we imagined meeting him, "that would be the greatest day of my life."

I believe it's important to indulge in a book that has new topics, new issues, and even just new genres. But it's also very important to indulge in a book that has topics you've had experiences with, both good and bad. It opens your eyes, lets you see your point of view in that time through someone else's perspective. It makes you think more about the topic. Which is why I think the book Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close will be a great book for me. I've had a close experience with 9/11 and I'm looking forward to someone else's story about it.

In conclusion, (of all the different topics I've written about this entry!)
1. Always look for books that give you new thoughts about a topic you know about, and also look for books that give you new thoughts about a new topic all together.
2. Always go for the best. Always hope an author will find your writing and send you an email. Because one day, they probably will.
3. Always have a mentor. May that be an author like Jonathan or Nan, or even your dog. Or your sister. Or your other sister.

To Admire

I've been thinking a lot about an entry about picture books that another student in my class wrote last week. I decided to add on to her thoughts for this week's entry, I really liked the topic she brought up. She said that no matter who you are, you can always find something from a picture book that you appreciate, which is a statement that I really and truly admire.

Winnie the Pooh books have really always been a part of me. From the necklace of him and Tigger I had as a kid that I am wearing right now, to my Winnie the Pooh calender, and to just reading his books. This "silly ol' bear" has always been by my side. And what I admire about A. A. Milne's books most, is that no matter what age you are, you can always learn something new and exciting from reading just one poem, or one chapter. It makes me feel so safe, knowing that if I lose my necklace, or I finish my calender, the books will never grow old, and I'll never ever grow tired of them.

Another example I have of picture books is the book Pink, by Nan Gregory. Pink is a beautiful picture book that almost made me cry the first time I read it to my sister. It really made me think about how many other books there are out there that can touch any one's heart. Pink has a great story line, that fits the interest of a young reader, and provokes the mind healthily for a reader my age. Pink is the story of young Vivi, whose father is a truck driver and her mother who seems to not have a job at all. Their family doesn't necessarily have all the money in the World. Walking around town one day, Vivi spots a beautiful bride doll, glistening pink. She saves up enough money to buy the beautiful doll, only to find that one of richer girls in town has already snatched it away, as if it had only cost a penny.

To my younger sister, she sees the richer girl as a meanie. The bully. The mean girl in school. And to her, she doesn't understand why it's so hard for Vivi to buy the doll, and so easy for the rich girl to. But to me, it brings up much thought and conflict, about how these things really do happen in life. These topics are very serious and important to be reminded of. And it takes a lot of courage to bring up such conflicts in a picture book. Especially one called Pink. Which any young child wants to pick up, just from the title.

I admire Nan Gregory's courage and hope to learn more from her and others about finding deeper meaning in picture books. Because they aren't only for 5 year olds. They are for everyone.

Quotes

First thing I want to say, I'm out in Hillsdale, and as I mentioned a few blogs ago, this is where I can get really into my reading. Last year, I finished two of the Twilight books in the one week I was here with my family. Yep. Two Twilight books.

Now back to my entry

No matter what book I am in the middle of reading, there will always be one that I keep to the side, in case I forget my current book, am in the mood for a new theme, or just want to read it. Currently, my "second book" is Without Feathers by Woody Allen. I'm really enjoying this book. It's hysterical, and from all the stress I'm under right now, I love being able to have a book that will make me laugh.

Another reason I am really liking this book, is because my father always seems to be recommending books to me, and most of the time, to be honest, I never actually come through to reading them. Maybe because I think they're old, or I just won't like them. But over this past break, in my grandmothers apartment, my father picked up Without Feathers and just started reading it to me. And for once I decided to give it a chance. I decided not to "judge a book by it's cover."

Because it doesn't matter anymore that the book has a white cover, and small red letters. It doesn't matter that the title doesn't make any sense. It matters that the words inside the book, beyond the cover, are what I'm really enjoying.

And what I'm thinking about most right now, is how much I learned from a saying that everyone on Earth must hear once or twice a day. And how much it's ignored. How not that many people really take the time to find the hidden meaning of "don't judge a book by it's cover." And is it the same way with other quotes? Are all of these other sayings just being ignored, are they just useless words that have some how been put into a sentence? I hope everyone will find their own hidden meaning for sayings someday, and then we can learn from them, and they can learn from us.

Stargirls

I want to be a Stargirl. I want to sign my name with a little yellow star and a blue girl with a triangle dress. I want to "wash my mind." I want to have a wagon that keeps track of my emotions. I want my wagon to always be full. And I want not to be embarrassed when my wagon is empty. I want to be fearless, I want to be Stargirl.

I feel that everyone needs a Stargirl, wants a Stargirl, and is a Stargirl. Everyone has the potential to be a Stargirl, everyone has the courage, everyone just has to find it.

But what would happen if everyone was a Stargirl? Everyone got to be a hero? A fantasy? A perfection? Then no one would really be a Stargirl. It would have to be the person who decides NOT to be a Stargirl that truly is the Stargirl. Or maybe the Moongirl? Or the Sungirl?

What is a Stargirl anyway? Or who? Or maybe where? Is there a Stargirl in this World? In this town, in this school, in this home, or that home? Or is there no such thing? Maybe we're just girls, or boys, or women, or men. And all we can do is wait for a Stargirl to come along. Or for one of us to step up and anounce that they are the Stargirl. But what if a Stargirl doesn't show up? And no one breaks away and becomes the Stargirl. And all we are, are people. Who don't know what to do.

Maybe it's better not to have a Stargirl. Maybe no one needs her. Or maybe we do. A little.

Winter Vacation

Once every year, I go out to Milwaukee, WI over break. I always look forward to coming out here to see my Dad's side of the family, for some many reasons. One, is that I can totally let go from everything in my life when I come out here. Every morning, I'm welcomed with waffles and Aunt Jamima syrup. A huge television, and a comfy couch. The Wii game system lets me forget about all my troubles, and the close by movie theatre, and candy shops do aswell. Though, as you can imagine, there's no time to do the thing that really allows you to let go and forget about all your troubles, better then any of the regualr activities I do at my cousin's house. Read. There's no time. I'm always being called over to play Rock Band, watch a football game, log on to Facebook on this beautiful computer.

Another thing I do once a year, is go near the Berkshires, to a small area called Hillsdale. Here, is one of my mother's best friend's country house. Here, there is a T.V, but one that does not have cable. Here, are laptops, but most are being used by our parents. So here, I have an excellent reason to read, and so much more time to do so. So I have to compare, because I am now in Wisonsin, not really reading as much as I could, and in a couple weeks, my family and I might be going out to the 'Hillsdale House,' where I plan on reading 600 books in the short week we are there.

Well, now that I'm done with entry, and this observation, I think I'll go read.

Excuses

I love to find excuses to read. That way I feel safe. That everyone around me knows not to bother me. To let me be. Because if I get a good excuse, I can read for hours.

On Sunday, I unleashed one of my many qualities of a klutz, and fell at the ice skating rink in Prospect Park. My mom not in sight, I tried limping and skating at the same time which didn't work at all. I crawled over to a bench, not making eye contact with the dad I knew from somewhere or other. I blinked back the tears, and finally saw my mom's familiar brown coat in the distance. I dragged myself to the entrance gate a desperately waved and called her name. She looked over, but it was my six year old sister who reached me first.

"What happened??" She questioned. I just looked at her, I didn't have the strength to answer her. My mom came to me then and lifted me off my feet to carry me to a bench. I started crying at once. While telling my mom everything that happened, I realized that I was the only one in the family who had never severely injured herself. I didn't know what it felt like to be hurt badly somewhere in the body. We drove home, and I was carried to my room where I was greeted with a bag of ice and a pillow to elevate me leg.

My dad came into the room, and sat down next to me. Just the simple strokes of his fingers made me feel better. He leaned over to reach for my book, and a smile came across my face. I read for so long, that I could feel my knee thawing off from the ice, not necessarily the effect my parents were looking for from it. But I simply didn't care. In what seemed like ten minutes, I had gone from page one to page 36.

I always look for excuses to read, and sometimes I don't at all. Sometimes it's good enough to just sit down and read. Sometimes all you need is a great book, an ice pack, and a sprained knee.