To Read, or Not to Read

To Read, or not to read – that is the question. I think of vital choices like Shakespeare’s poor Hamlet who uttered, “to be or not to be….” while he considered whether to live and suffer life’s slings or die and possibly be at peace. Hamlet was unsure about life after death, so it wasn’t a “black or white” choice for him, but we can be surer about the “not to read” choice. When it comes to education, insight, and exposure, the result of a vital choice about whether or not to read is “black or white.” It is reflected in our culture. The abundance of schlock choices is increasing in direct proportion to the substantive choices decreasing. How many people do not read anything at all?

Alas, if only I had one-zillionth Shakespeare’s brilliance at causing individuals to see themselves through the mirror of his complex characters! Of course, Shakespeare didn’t have to compete with TV, movies, or video games. As it is, the optic nerve and the auditory canals have often become the pickup route leading to the largest human garbage dump of all – the brain. Even if I could manage to dash off a few breathtaking lines, the kind of thing which, doubtless, would dazzle with the force of its impact if only it might penetrate the gray matter, there would still be the need to market it effectively enough to garner sufficient notice. Writers’ tools consist of the basics, just ink on paper. No exploding paint balls, whistling rockets, peephole activity, pulsating flashes of free-falling bodies, or dizzying camera angles. Not even any red blood or purplish green ooze. None of it. Just the power of language, the music of thought, the connection of ideas jumping synapses; not following trends blindly with trite buzzwords, but taking control of the thought process. A lot of how this is accomplished comes about through reading/thinking or thinking/reading, then acting. In the case of writers, reading opens thought and feeds creativity. Imagine no polls, no comparisons with neighbors, or no political correctness, but just brave logic. It would be as liberating as morphing an overpopulated rat colony into a bevy of butterflies.

Everyone wants to fly, to be free. Reading has a way of doing just that by unleashing minds and voices. It takes us over the world, back through time and forward into the future. It validates ones’s thoughts or offers new insights. Instead, too often we stare and distract at computer and phone screens, searching endlessly, lured by excess, failing in our quest to quench the thirst. We resist most the work that is hard, effort that is demanding of our minds and bodies. Reading teaches, comforts, compares, reveals, provokes, engages, inspires; it does all this while exercising and revealing the many layers of the mind.

Reading the stories of other lives and writing the stories from our own experiences forms a human link through ages of time. People say, “I don’t have time to read newspapers, books, or magazines. I get all the news from TV or my phone or computer.” It’s true that we are flooded with soundbites from over the globe. What seem like nanoseconds of information constantly bombard us and are shoved aside for even more breaking news so that our heads are reeling. There is too much repetition and too much selective sensationalism. Ignorance is directing intelligence. What to do?

Limit the noise. Decipher the competition for attention. Think for yourself. Assess the information. Do some research. Read history, read about cultures and places, read lives, loves, and outcomes of real people. Feed your own mind rather than allow the clamor to deceive, spew random opinions, and exert control. That familiar sequence in Act III, Scene I of Hamlet states it best: “Madness in great ones must not unwatched go.”

If we lose our love of reading and get caught up in the treadmill of speedy words going nowhere, we’ll lose what made great thinkers unique. There are so many books with treasures to unlock. They were freely given to future generations and exist long past their authors. The founding fathers of our country were readers and writers. Their thoughts became our basis. We can’t all write books, but each person can leave something written which expresses free thought and individual ideas. It can be a recipe, a poem, a hand-written letter or note. No time? Give up one phone call, one snack, one TV program, one Facebook scrolling session, and you’ve got it. It can mean the world to someone who will read it.

Read and write go together like fingers on the same hand. They have a direct line to the brain. To read or not to read is an individual decision, but I cannot imagine an existence without it. It turns my motor, is my barometer, connects me with humanity. It is a way to satisfy insatiable curiosity about everything. The summer between fifth and sixth grade found me diligently building a neighborhood newspaper where I wrote every feature article, opinion piece, and ad. There were interviews with all the neighbors, human interest stories about their pets, announcements about lost dogs, recipes generously provided by my grandmothers, garden tips from my mother, and much more. I clipped headline letters from our regular newspaper and glued them into place for my column titles and drawn illustrations. It was a daily labor of love that I hoped would help everyone love to read as much as I did. It was shared with those who seemed to enjoy reading about themselves and there was a lot of kind interest in my early journalism. The Secret Garden, Heidi, and Black Beauty were favorites among dozens of books which inspired my childhood attempts to create stories for others.

READ! Encourage your children to read and entertain themselves. Let them see you read. Laugh, cry, and talk together about stories. You never know where it will lead, but lead them, it will. Here’s my grandmother, Emmie, reading in 1928 to my mother in her lap, and my two aunts. This led to some very great things!

Story Seeds

Stories grow from the seeds of words. When I think of reading, though, I think in terms of more than words on pages. When I think of the broader meaning of “reading,” my writing is enhanced by these abstract ways of applying the idea of reading.

To me, reading is reading nature, reading people, reading everything in my environment, using all my senses. This began in early childhood, when my parents and grandparents filled our homes with what they read in the outside world, with all the experiences we shared. They brought nature, art and music indoors so that we were constantly surrounded and enveloped in a lush, sensorial climate. When they read to me or I read to myself, I could better envision the descriptions through experience, and I felt the need to translate and share my feelings in my own ways. This was how my stories were born. Now I’m always writing as I walk, see, hear, smell, feel – in other words, as I read my world.

Below are some photos of bird nests and other bits of nature collected from around our garden, walks, and travel, and brought inside to decorate tabletops and mantel. Many pieces of our furniture and art have nature themes. Framed family photos of generations, including the house in Germany where my maternal grandfather was born, and handwritten letters, give me stories and voices that told them to me. My hope is that you will read the world, and that your children will read it with you so that they will write it for their children. Story seeds are everywhere.

Wren’s nest on mantel

Wren’s nest on mantel

Paper and tape became part of this nest.

Paper and tape became part of this nest.

 

 

Unhatched Bluebird eggs collected from several nests

Unhatched Bluebird eggs collected from several nests

Chimney Swift nest

Chimney Swift nest

Bluebird nest

Bluebird nest

Nest in fork of our fiddle leaf fig tree

Nest in fork of our fiddle leaf fig tree

Nest under glass dome on side table

Nest under glass dome on side table

Wax myrtle berries

Wax myrtle berries

Bird of Paradise painting

Bird of Paradise painting

Shells collected at Sanibel and Captiva Islands, Florida

Shells collected at Sanibel and Captiva Islands, Florida

Antique mirror frame with leaf detail
Antique mirror frame with leaf detail

Partial wall of seven framed generations

Partial wall of seven framed generations

 

1929 letter written in German from great-grandmother to my mother

1929 letter written in German from great-grandmother to my mother

House in Germany where my maternal grandfather was born, and a group photo of his parents and siblings
House in Germany where my maternal grandfather was born, and a group photo of his parents and siblings

Even my sox have bluebirds

Even my sox have bluebirds

 

 

 

Attention All Junior Writers!

Since it’s summer vacation for students, this is a great time to enter THE READING ROAD SUMMER WRITING CONTEST. Go to the JUST FOR FUN page and click “Contests” to read all about it. The winner will be awarded a prize and be published here on The Reading Road where all your family and friends can see your entry.

While you are waiting to learn if you are the winner, you might want to try something I once did. During one summer vacation from elementary school, I made a neighborhood newspaper (which was a lot more work, but seemed like more fun than being in school). Since I was the roving reporter, columnist, editor, publisher, and then the delivery girl, it didn’t leave much time for getting into my usual mischief. The summer went really fast, and I loved writing about anything I thought would make a good story. Some of the neighbors weren’t too sure, but they seemed to be pleased to be featured, for the most part. They actually enjoyed my science column about birds, butterflies, and types of neighborhood pets. My cooking column was almost a disaster because I asked some of my mother’s friends for recipes. Some of them were ghastly, and I couldn’t be “choosy” without hurting feelings. I decided to share only my Mom’s and Grandmothers’ recipes because they were the best cooks. If you decide to try a newspaper or newsletter, you may want to include some friends and work together. A parent or neighbor would probably be happy to act as editor or type your stories and columns.

I’d love to hear about any reading or writing projects you do this summer, and I can’t wait to get your contest entries!

Pure Potential!

When the words came to me, I was peering into a bluebird nest at four sky-blue marble-sized ovals nestled in pine straw. Pure potential. The female had flown away in search of an insect morsel, and the male regarded me from an oak branch. I instantly counted one-two-three-four holding those tiny beating hearts.

It’s impossible to go walking without being aware of the words.

 

 

 

 

I think them when young birds fledge, or a seed breaks soil and sprouts, when newly hatched turtles make their first precarious scramble toward the sea, and especially when I see the joy of discovery on a child’s face. Pure potential.

Imagine the influence and possibilities our words create in the hungry brains of our children. We can expose them to books and music in all the choices available to us in this 21st century. They will sample the array and take the best from it, re-invent it, and create it anew.

We can offer choices, take time to read with them, discuss and draw what they think about stories, act out the stories, and encourage them to write their own stories. It’s summer and time to see all the pure potential in our lives!

 

The Number One Spot

Time management has never been more important to me than now. I have a new e-book, on-going work on two more, marketing plans, a terrific husband – and our daughter has been diagnosed with breast cancer. This is a perfect example of “Life happens while you’re making plans.” All the plans get rearranged and re-prioritized, with the family always landing in the number one spot.

Thanksgiving, 2011, found me, as usual, preparing for a festive family day. The day before Thanksgiving, I had finally completed the edits for my first e-book, and returned the manuscript for final formatting and publication. All my treasured heirloom recipes from both grandmothers and Mother had been retrieved from their files, ingredients assembled, kitchen appliances utilized to the max. My husband, Jim, was busily chopping and often asking, “What next?” We are a finely-honed team in the culinary/entertaining department.

Thanksgiving Day was full of good food and thanks, just as we had planned. Our daughter spent the day with her husband’s family, but we had a full table at our house. The next day brought a shocking answer to Jim’s “What next?” in one of those time-stopping moments. It came in a phone call, while Jim chopped more vegetables and I wrestled a turkey carcass into a huge soup pot.

“Ring, ring.” I grabbed a kitchen towel and remarked that this was a heck of a time for the phone to ring. The voice on the other end of the phone said, “Mom.” That one word, in that one tone, put me on instant alert. All parents know what I mean. “Can you put me on speaker so Dad can hear?” That’s how we learned that our daughter, Jeannette, has cancer. We looked at each other with the same parent thoughts speeding our heartbeats. In an instant, all our “what next’s” changed.

Now, four months later, we are immersed in wound care, chemo schedules, blood tests, nutrition and hydration, blood pressure and temperature monitoring, battles with fatigue. Yes, there was the surgery, the waiting, the staging, the lymph node involvement, the complications and setbacks. Months of this will give way to radiation, and then probably two more surgeries.

“How is she?” everyone wants to know. If I had to tell you in one sentence, it would be, “She is a brave soldier.” She gave her long, silky hair early because she said, “Somewhere a child is waiting for this.” (Jeannette has donated her long hair twice before, while she was in peak health, so that a child with hair loss might benefit.)

My “Day by Day” blogs may not be as often as I’d like, but know that every experience we have is stored away until the moment it is needed to take its perfect place in a written thought. This website began as a road of discovery through reading and writing for children. It is just exactly that as we read, write, and discover along this road we walk with our daughter.

This is an illustration from www.tracybishop.com which is such an inspiration for all the rainy days in our lives. It’s full of bright hope and determination as we paddle our boats through the raindrops. Tracy graciously gave me permission to post it here.

A Gift for Teachers and Librarians

I’m very happy to tell teachers and librarians that Apple has allowed me to offer a code for a free copy of LEMON TREES AND BUMBLEBEES until April 20! The book is available through the Apple bookstore, iBooks, and can be viewed on Apple devices which include the iPad, iPod Touch, and iPhone.

To purchase (or download free using a code), you may go to iTunes on a Mac computer, and click “iTunes Store” and then “Books.” Type the book title into the search bar to get a purchase page. At the bottom of the page you can click “Redeem” to enter your code and download the book free of charge. After April 20, the book may be purchased for $5.99. If you wish to purchase or download on your iPad, just click the iBooks icon on the iPad screen, and type the book into the search bar.

Please leave a comment here on the site, and e-mail me your private, public, or homeschool affiliation so that I can send your code. After you see the book, I’d love to hear how you are using it in your teaching, and what your students are saying. With permission, I’ll print some of the kids’ comments (the good ones)! Some “classics” have already come to me regarding the audio/video clip, and the bumblebee recipe; and I have been excited about how young children are using the glossary words, such as “entomologist.”

This is a one-time promotion for authors from Apple; so let me hear from you, and I’ll be looking forward to sending your code!

 

 

Every Acorn Holds a Tree

Sometimes inspiration hides out in the wide, wide open of life. Ideas can move to the front of the thought line at any time, whether I’m kicking acorns or folding egg whites into batter. The more I engage in any aspect of life, the more it seems that my mind is another person rich with new insights to share. Thought patterns and words can be as elusive as firefly light, but when the right ones strike, I’m thrown into a frantic search for paper and pen. My notepaper reflects whatever activity that engaged me when the inspiration visited. Sometimes the pages are smeared with garden dirt, splotched with water drops from hastily washed hands, or tinted with just a guilty little chocolate smudge, but who cares as long as the “just right” words get captured?

I’m always mining the hiding places of inspiration. Once, unable to sleep because a thorny descriptive passage wouldn’t read like music, I walked out onto the front porch just as soft light signaled dawn. There, with a clear view of the eastern sky, I could hear the needed words.

“What if?” is a magical question which has helped develop my own writing voice, my writing “fingerprint” which is really just a reflection of how I view the world. Questions I sometimes get are “How did you think of that? What made you come up with that idea?” Answers and solutions which seem logical to me come in ways which are simple and natural. Several people have asked for the paint color of our blue-gray-green front porch floor. It’s custom paint mixed to match a pile of leaves, in stages of development, which I dumped on the paint store counter. Ray, the owner, knows me by now. He threw up his hands and pointed me to the back where he let me mix my own color. It was easier for both of us this way. I’m just saying that answers are everywhere in life and in writing. You just have to think, “What if…?”

Another unexpected way to give special flavor to my expression has come through the study of other languages. To be truly fluent, to capture the nuances that natives of a country use, we have to “think” in the other language rather than translate verbatim. This requires study, but yields thrilling results when you start to dream in French or Spanish, for instance, or effortlessly punctuate your native language with words and expressions from another.

To be a writer is to be a dreamer – and a brave one at that. Write the world as you see it, as it thrills you, as it breaks your heart. Write what you want your children to know; season your words with the sweet and savory of your life; help them know that there is a tall tree waiting within every acorn.

Acorn Sketch from my Journal