Book News

In the world of children's book publishing, today was the big day!  Newbery, Caldecott, Printz and other awards were announced.  Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book took the Newbery and Beth Krommes took the Caldecott for The House in the Night.  

In my own little publishing world, I had bittersweet news today.  Two publishers have been considering Jacob's Peak, and today I received this letter from one of them.

Dear Ms Watson,

Thank you for responding to my query and sending me the first three chapters of The Other Side of Jacob's Peak.  I'm terribly sorry for having had this for so long, especially since I have to pass.  I think you have a wonderful premise.  So wonderful, in fact, that I signed up a similarly plotted manuscript some months ago and think it would be problematic to have them both on Dutton's list.  However, I enjoyed the narrative voice, and welcome you to send me projects in the future.  

I'm sorry the news is bittersweet, especially after the wait.  I wish you the best of luck in finding the right publishing home for you project.  I'm returning the materials herewith.

Sincerely,

Julie Strauss-Gabel,  Associate Editor

Dutton Children's Books

Augh!  What is this "similarly plotted ms?"  I want to read it when it comes out.  And...  I really, really, really want to find a home for this book.  

In the mean time I have begun work on a book that, I recently realized, I have been thinking of since I was very young.  Like maybe eight years old.  It's a strange story, sort of a fairy tale feeling, with odd things, a bit of magic, and some nasty grown-ups.  No title yet.  I hope it works. I'll let you know.  It feels so familiar, I guess because it's a story I've thought about for most of my life, in one way or another, so putting it on "paper" (or the computer screen) will be weird.  I'm still at the think-about-it-as-I-drive, write-out-different-plot-variations, try-different-characters-on-for-size stage.  But I am quite certain it will get written rather quickly.  

And while I work on that, I hope and pray for the other publisher to LOVE Jacob's Peak.  To laugh, and cry, and shout, and stomp, and then pick up the phone and call me and say, "I absolutely Must Have this book!"  Now you know what Rebecca hopes for.

Have a wonderful day!  Enjoy the new award winners!  =)     

Dead Weeds

I have been taking my camera everywhere with me lately, photographing everything.  My kids' violin lessons, things I see while sitting at stoplights (these pictures are not very interesting, I must admit.  Stoplights are not in the most romantic locations), and dead weeds.  Lots and lots of dead weeds.  They are really quite stunning.  I suppose some of them are probably not technically weeds, but still--

I hope to put together a lovely slide show entirely of dead weeds some time soon-- probably after my working time turner arrives-- and I'll post it here when I get it done. In the mean time, here are a couple of photos to get you thinking about the beauty of dead weeds.  =)

In other news, we are finally taking down our Christmas tree today.  Procrastination is a speciality of mine, but I've been getting a bit lax.  We had one particularly memorable year when we didn't get the tree down until Easter.  It might have gone that far again this year, except that Mike has the day off, and he put the kids to work on it first thing this morning.  

Photographing everything is part of my New Life.  (Rebecca version 40.2)  In this life I wear red, carry a camera, and am organized.  So far it's going well.  I found some wonderful red shoes at the church clothing exchange and brought them home, even though-- at the time-- I did not own anything else red.  But the thrift shop had a wonderful red boiled wool jacket and a bright red sweater with wooly white sheep.  Bethany is happy to let me borrow her voluptuous red coat.  I picked up a red purse at said thrift shop and Voila!  The New Me!  Dressed in red, photographing strangers, stoplights and dead weeds.  (I'm not sure about the legality of photographing strangers at stoplights.  I should probably look into that.)  And between photo shoots, I clean out obscure corners of my house.  I've thrown away countless little bottles of hotel shampoo, found more art supplies than any one person should be allowed to own, and wondered how unlabeled, burned CDs manage to multiply in bottom dresser drawers. 

Have a wonderful MLK day, Inauguration Day, and remaining pieces of January.  And please, enjoy the dead weeds.  They only last so long, you know.       

A funny moment in the Watson house

Bethany just finished reading Twelfth Night and came upstairs very happy.  She sat on the couch and smiled and buried her face with happiness in the quilt I sat under.  I asked how it was and she said, "good."  I asked if everyone ended up with the right person and she said, "yes."

Then Peter said, "Wait a minute.  Didn't we do Twelfth Night?"

Bethany held out the HTT shirt she was wearing that said Twelfth Night in large white letters.

Peter said, "Isn't that by Shakespeare?"  We said "yes", and he said, "I didn't know we did Shakespeare!"

Bethany said, "We didn't.  You weren't in it.  I was."

Peter said, "Oh.  Who were you?"

"Curio."

Peter just gave her a look and said, "That's not helpful.  Just tell me who played Romeo."

This is a picture taken on my recent  trip to Utah.  From the left we have Rachel, my Dad, my Mom, me and Elizabeth.  We are standing in my parents' front yard.  =)

For just a moment

For just a moment

I savor the softness

of the morning light

the press of my pillow

the quiet comfort of my quilts

as simple thoughts

slip into my mind

turning from dreams to reality

I remember responsibilities

The day begins

Happy Happy Happy =)

Christmas is over.  It was SO nice!  Rachel and Elizabeth were here and I loved having them home.  They left today to go back to school, and although I will miss them, to was so nice to have them home that I am still feeling all happy inside.  =)

I'm writing, by the way, during a party at my house.  I'm not usually a recluse, but since I am not a teen, I feel confident that they don't mind the fact that I'm ignoring them as completely as possible.  Their stories of unreturned love via text messages, being nervous at Christmas recitals, and rounds of giggles from the girls when the boys tell lame jokes all leave me feeling grateful for an escape into cyber space.  They have retreated into the basement, so I am left with a little piece of quiet.  As I write, the candle Rachel gave me for Christmas is burning on the table beside me.  It's a Salt City Sugar Cookie candle, and it smells delicious.  I keep thinking I should go find whatever is smelling so good and eat it, but then I remember it's my candle.

One of the things I got for Christmas was... (drum roll please)... a camera!  Woo Hoo!  I am so excited!  It arrived in the mail yesterday, and I've been playing around, trying to figure it out.  You'll notice (I hope) a couple of new photos on my side bar.  Yes, they are from my new camera.  As are the pictures of Rachel's roses in the new slide show at the bottom of this page.  Which reminds me!

Rachel and Elizabeth both had dates for the New Year's Eve dance!  They dressed up in formal dresses, did their hair in amazing and lovely styles, and were out all night.  The dance was at the Marriot Center in DC, and when they got home the next morning they both looked happy and exhausted.  At least I think they did.  I had been trying to sleep on the couch (to see them when they came in, not because of Mike) and hadn't gotten much more sleep than they had.  Rachel's date brought her a dozen roses, and I took several pictures of them.  You can enjoy them, minus the lovely scent, at the bottom of this page.

Yesterday, before the camera came in the mail (darn it all), we all went to the National Cathedral.  It is amazing.  Rachel decided to have her bridal pictures taken there, which I think is a wonderful idea.  Now all she needs is the right guy.  (No, he has not entered the picture yet, who ever he is.)  We used Rachel's camera and took tons of pictures, which I will post here if I get around to it.  If you are in the area, and have not been to the Cathedral before, I highly recommend it.  Bring a camera.

We got one large family gift this year.  I have had such a hard time not talking about this one!  Every time I called Rachel or Elizabeth, every time my kids discussed gifts, or traveling, I just about burst at the seams with excitement.  

We had opened all the gifts under the tree and the kids were wandering off into the kitchen or up to their rooms, when I pointed out to Peter the box beside the couch in the family room.  "What's in that box, Peter?"  He opened it and said, "More presents!"  There was one for each of us.  Bethany found a travel diary and a miniature beach chair, towel and shells.  Joshua found a book on pirates.  Peter got a book about the making of the Panama Canal, and Naomi found a book on wild animals in Panama.  Rachel and Elizabeth each got travel books on Panama.  Mike got David McCullough's book The Path Between the Seas on CD.  

Rachel was the first to figure out what was going on.  She looked around and said, "Do you all know what this is?"  Everyone else just stared at her.  Then Elizabeth squealed and ran to hug me while the other kids said, "huh?"  I pulled out an envelope at the bottom of the box with our confirmation for flights to Panama at the end of April!  Woo Hoo!  We are leaving the country!   Vacation!  Escape!  I am so excited!  (Can you tell?) 

And now... I have a question.  How do you decide what to make as New Year's resolutions?  Or do you even make them at all?  

I do.  Every year I resolve, basically, to become perfect in the coming year.  My resolutions this year include writing every week day, loosing weight, attending the temple monthly (almost made it last year!), and being a wonderful, amazing and incredible wife, mom and homeschool teacher.    ...Well, ok...   I break those last three down into slightly more manageable pieces, but you get the idea.  Usually my husband writes down everyone's goals in the family, and then brings them out from time to time during the year to ask how we're all doing.  It's very helpful and only slightly annoying.  

So.  Do you have any goals for this year?  Anything new you hope to accomplish or become?  Do you write them down, tell someone, or keep them to yourself?  And how about last year's goals?  Do you remember what they were?  

Ok, Mike is home with Peter and Naomi, so I'd better go work on that wonderful wife and mother bit.  

Happy New Year!          

Seeing Christmas Trees

First of all, just let me say that I am photographically challenged.  I admit it.  I have been trying for weeks to get around to putting new (or at least different) photos up on my blog.  And it's not going well.  Long story involving multiple computers, secret passwords, and very old cameras, but just be aware that I am trying. 

I'm writing in my living room as I sit on the fainting couch.  (The couch is cool.  Trust me.)  It's about midnight and my house is mostly quiet.  The tree is beautiful with white lights, candy canes and simple ornaments.  I am remembering some very good Christmases.

The first Christmas we were married we were dirt poor, living in a tiny (actually, microscopic might be a better word) apartment in Provo, south of BYU campus.  We had no money for a tree or decorations, but one night there was a knock at the door (we had no doorbell) and when we opened the door there was a tree, a stand, and a box of inexpensive ornaments.  We decorated as if we were kings.  And every person I saw became a suspect.  Was it my Grandma and Grandpa who lived in Provo?  Another young couple from church?  One of the older couples on our street?  I have no idea, but I hope they had a wonderful Christmas.

Another year we were living in Korea and our friends, Dan and Wendy, had no tree.  I asked why, and Wendy said they had decided not to get one because of money issues.  On the way back from Seoul about a week later, a man was selling Christmas trees on the side of the road and I asked my friend Diane to stop so I could get a tree for Wendy.  When she heard the situation she said she wouldn't stop unless I let her pay half.  So we got the tree together and back in Osan found a Korean man and told him to take the tree to Wendy's house, but not to tell her who it was from.  He agreed, and she called me right after that to say, "Someone brought us a tree!"  =)  Several years later, just a few months before she died, she called and said, "If I ask you a question, will you tell me the truth?"  This, I might add, is an unfair trick question.  I agreed, wondering what I could have hidden from her.  She asked if I had brought her the tree.  Darn it all.  I confessed, and told her Diane's part.  What can I say?  She has done so much for me.  A tree is nothing for a friend like that.

When I was in highschool my family moved to Morocco.  At first I knew it was my parent's plot to destroy my life.  I could write several books on the whole thing, and might some day.  But it's Christmas that I've been thinking of lately.  Oddly enough.  We put up a tree and decorated it, and what would have looked like a full-sized, wintery tree in our house in Minnesota, looked small in our huge, open house in Morocco.  The polished stone floors and French doors with views of flowers and our banana tree, along with the complete lack of Christmas decorations and celebrations outside made the tree seem out of place.  But it was Christmas.  We had a maid who lived with us and was a wonderful cook.  She and her relatives kept our house clean and our family well-fed.  But one day she said to my mother, "Madam, can I ask you something?  Why do we have a tree in the house?"  We were all surprised, and tried our best to explain why, when we were celebrating the birth of the Savior, we brought a tree into the living room and hung things on its branches.  That year my friend, Pierre-Paul, invited me to attend midnight mass with him.  (There is a Catholic cathedral in Rabat.  Foreigners may practice their religions in Morocco, but the Moroccan people are required by law to be Muslim.)  It was impressive.  I only realized later, when he asked if I would like an explanation about why Christians celebrate Easter, that he was trying to convert me to Christianity.  (In case you are similarly confused, Mormons are Christian.  Notice, it's The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  Click here if you wonder if I'm telling the truth.)  

But an odd thing happened around Christmas time in Morocco.  You know that really intense Christmas feeling from when you were little?  It came back, full-force plus some, in Morocco.  And just like in the Grinch story, it came without tinsel or TV ads or store fronts.  Moroccans, being Muslim, do not celebrate Christmas.  At first I thought it was odd that I would feel so much Christmas spirit in a country with no decorations, but then I looked again.  We had shepherds that walked past our house every day, olive trees and dusty roads, and people who knew nothing of a Savior.  What better reminders of Christmas.  We also had poor people.  I don't mean people without cable TV who get food stamps.  I mean people living in dirt huts who walk to the well each day for water.  And so, on Christmas we went into the medina-- the old part of town-- and just like on the first Christmas, these people had no idea the day was significant.  We went to the beggars and brought gifts-- not of gold, frankincense, or myrrh-- but of durhams (Moroccan money).  Instead of giving out change, like we usually did, we gave out sizable amounts of cash.  I remember a lady sleeping while squatting on the dusty ground, her head in her arms, her hand stretched out before her.  We put money in her hand and she opened her eyes and saw the cash and clutched it to her.  It was a good thing to do, but how much more if we could have brought them to our house and fed and clothed them.  I wish we could have brought them freedom of religion and from oppression.  But we had durhams, so that is what we shared. 

When I look at my tree tonight, those are the things I see.  A tree on my doorstep.  A tree on the side of the road.  And a tree in Morocco.