My adopted sister recently beckoned me, "Come out every once in a while, the world needs a glimpse." I can always count on her to pull me from the shadows, back out into the warmth of the sun.

I've been feeling like a panda lately, a bit shy and reclusive. It's easier than jumping back in with both feet and reclaiming my space in the woods.

But as I write this, I realize that she's right. If I don't stand up and make my presence known, I too may have to face extinction. The truth of the matter is, you can't sit on the edge of the bamboo forest in this business. You can't consume everything around you, faithfully knowing that the supply will be replenished, and life will continue to carry you forward.

The publishing business is like a steam roller. It doesn't stop when you get tired or overrought with anxiety. It continues on without you, evolving quickly with each passing day. Your seat on the train gets further and further away, until someone new jumps on board and takes it. Then you're left standing at an empty depot, wondering if there will be a vacancy on the next one that pulls into the station.

Too much time away can ruin a career and sometimes, a friendship. So, thank you my sister, my friend, for reminding me that your world isn't quite as bright without me. Something as beautiful as a panda should step out into the clearing and look up to the sky.

Time to say goodbye.

It's been a while since my last entry. Time is more precious than I realized. I discovered this when I made the choice to honor a parent by caring for her in her final days. When I made this decision, I was ignorant of what it meant and how it would change me. I had no idea of the immensity of my promise.

Caring for the elderly has long been compared to new motherhood, though similar, I think it goes a bit deeper. There's a strangling sadness in caring for an elderly person. Watching their embarrassment as each day brings with it one more freedom that is lost. Freedoms like bathing in privacy, chosing what you'll have for dinner, combing your hair or writing your name.

Then there's the inability to accomplish your dreams, or hope for new ones. How devastating it must be to face the fact that you will never again do things for yourself, like paint your room or shop for a new dress. Imagine the feeling of knowing that it's pointless to make plans.

Promising to care for a dying person is more than just holding their hand, although that's important too. It's about standing up for them when their doctor wants to drug them senseless, taking away all clarity as life begins to slip away.

It's about saving them from the boredom of endless gameshows and trashy talkshows, by reading to them until you're voice is gone, or they fall asleep (whichever comes first!)

It's anticipating every need before they ask, and acting like it's no big deal even though it's huge, time consuming, and you're exhausted.

It's knowing their favorite foods and making sure you have them in the house at all times...feeding them slowly, and lovingly because the next meal could be their last.

Creating distractions from their pain is a big responsibility. It's as ongoing as the pain itself. It causes you to lose track of time and forget who you are and the fact that you have a body too that must be cared for as well. You become sleep deprived and overly emotional. You lash out at other family members, who can't commit themselves for fear of desolving into tears in front of the person trapped in the decaying body. You wonder why it is that YOU have the strength that they lack.

Time passes rapidly, and your life keeps moving, it moves on without you...except in the room. There, you wait together. You don't say much about it, but day after day you both know where it's headed. You know it will end. The question is when? Time together becomes the most important thing can give.

Time is a blessing, but it's also a theif. Just when we think we have plenty of it, it slips from our hands. In old age, we become as dependant upon others as a newborn baby, but our bodies betray the soul held within.

As I said, this experience has changed me. It's been a long, hard road, but it was enlightening and bittersweet. I will never view time, independence, clarity, or simple kindness the same ever again. In closing this chapter of my life, I feel a new sense of wonder and possibility. I plan to dream big and follow my heart, so that when MY time comes, I can leave smiling, knowing that I lived!

Today's subject: Author/Illustrator-Tomie dePaola

If you're in this business with me, struggling to find the winning formula for your next Children's Picture Book, then I'm sure you've heard of Tomie dePaola. The truth is, if you are an SCBWI member and you don't know him, then you haven't done your homework! Tomie has his own seat on the Board of Advisors.

In my humble opinion, his Caldecott winner, "Strega Nona" is a road map for us all. In case you didn't know, it also received an ALA Notable Children's Book award, along with Kirkus Choice, The Horn Book Honor List, The Nakamori Prize and the Brooklyn Museum & Public Library Arts Books for Children Citation (N.Y.).

I was still in high school when it reached publication. I was an illustrator then too. I just didn't know it yet.

















As an illustrator, I have been known to spend forever trying to get great detail into my work. It's like, no matter how much I do, it's never enough. I don't know why. Then I look at Tomie's work, and marvel at it's simplicity in comparison. I beat myself up, thinking, Why? Why can't I do that? Lighten up and just draw! Was Tomie ever this conflicted? Somehow I doubt it.

As a writer, I often wonder if he had a clue that "Strega Nona" would be the one to change everything for him. I'm curious as to how many times it got the boot before Simon & Schuster decided to give it a go. Was his studio wallpapered with rejection letters too? Did each "I'm sorry but..." make him more determined to keep throwing himself in front of the bus until it finally came to a stop?

If you break down the manuscript, you immediately understand why it works. Tomie is a master at setting the stage for conflict. He does everything right, from introducing Strega Nona in the first paragraph, (along with the quaint little town of Calabria)to throwing in a bit of Italian for flavor. The scenes are clear and the repetition is flawlessly executed. In the climax, the word "pasta" is used eight times, as it seems to take on a life of its own!

The only thing that sticks out(to me)that would keep it from being published today is the "relatability factor". You know what I mean. Editors today keep telling us that our main character must be one that the reader can personally identify with. I don't think today's five year old can relate to a little old Italian grandma witch, yet "Strega Nona" continues to be a favorite among five year olds. Hummmm....I wonder what Tomie thinks about that? If he were submitting the manuscript today, might it be titled, "Big Anthony"? Somehow that just isn't the same.

Today's subject:Unprofessionalism

Okay, I'm frustrated. I sent a proposal to this employer who wanted color spot illustrations to place on greeting cards, party invitations, stickers and what not.

In the proposal I clearly stated my fee and provided all the information they requested. Then I waited.

Two days later, they contacted me and said that my fees were well within their range and would I please send samples. I was excited. I produced and sent samples over immediately. Then I waited.

Two days later they responded with...."so, what are your fees?"

If I didn't need the work so badly, I'd say, "Forget about it!"

It's so ridiculous that in this day and age, potential employers that act professionally are as rare to come by as freelance work at a fair price!

That's another thing. Who's put the word out that freelance illustrators will produce an entire 32 page picture book for, say $500 bucks? I seem to see this posted a lot on the freelance work sites. Does anyone really respond to these people? If they do, shame on them.

That's breaks down to say, 16 illustrations @ $31.25 per illustration...IN COLOR!!!! Ridiculous. I'm beginning to think that potential employers believe that because we're artists, we can't do simple math. Anyone who will take an assignment at that rate brings us all down and proves their theory!

Is it Too Late to Dream?

Those of you who know me well, also know about my situation with my 83 year-old mother-in-law. This morning was rough for her. The pain took its toll and her spirit took a brief vacation. I thought her tears were a result of the torture her body had endured, but it turned out that I was wrong.

"It's too late for me," she cried. "Too late for my dreams to come true." She talked about her life and the opportunities she had missed due of fear and circumstance.

I've often felt the same over the last few years, as I've tried so hard to catch up with the education I never had time for, and the clarity that somehow eluded me. Listening to "Mom's" despair, I realized how lucky I was to have Grandparents in my life.

My Grandfather never let me sit around and mope. He was a man of few words, but the twinkle in his eye was enough to make me love him blindly. He dragged me around everywhere and showed me the world through his eyes. He made me understand that it is what we make it. If you want something bad enough, you have to work hard for it. He sure did.

My Grandmother was my greatest fan. She stood up for me and always pushed me to try new things. She gave me the courage to get up on stage, as she would listen to me sing for hours. She attended all my school functions and always told me to "dream big", because she had faith in me.

My dreams have changed over the years, but I think my grandparents would be proud. Now I live my dreams through the characters in my stories. "Polly Opossum" gave me the chance to get back on that stage and be a country music star!

I hope you're still listening Grandmama, I sure miss you somethin' awful!

Today's subject: Looking at the flip side

Well it's Wednesday, better known as "hump"day. I can't believe the week is half gone already. But then again, it brings yet another chance to win the lottery and I've made it halfway to Saturday!
An author/illustrator made a comment the other day about waiting, as in waiting for months and months, only to get rejected…yet again. He felt that the whole process stinks, and he was very discouraged.

Waiting around is really irksome, but it also motivates. It motivates you to keep moving and keep writing and keep drawing, or whatever it is that you do. It gives us something to hope for and learn from. And when the waiting is over and the letter from the editor finally arrives, for just a split second...the whole world stops, along with your heart. You remember why you keep doing this, and you remind yourself to breath. Then you rip open the envelope!

I'd also like to share something with you today.

Last year I participated in a group study of Julie Camerons' book, "The Artists Way". Throughout the journey, there were several assignments, geared to boost one's creativity and validate the time given to nurture one's creative self.

One assignment was to write a morning prayer, or statement. Something that would motivate you in times of self doubt or insecurity about where you are in this thing called "life". I gave it a lot of thought, and this is what I came up with;

Today, I will bring from the past only that which will carry me forward,toward a life of joy and abundance.

Today, I will remember that what I do this day will be reflected in all my tomorrows.

Today, I will recognize my fears and receive the tools and the strength to move through them.

Today, I will give the world the best I have to offer and ask the universe for the same in return.

Today, I will open my eyes, so that I may truly see.

Today's subject: Farting Dogs, Telemarketers, & Multiple Submissions

So I'm late today, but I made it back. It's been a challenge.

If it's not Grandma hollering, "SOUP!", it's the flatulent dog, scratching to go out for the hundredth time, which I'm all too happy to do in order to clear the air of his natural pollutant! (Pee-yoo!)

The cat's been meowing to be let out of the laundry room, so that she can reinforce her rep of perfuming my potted plants to the point of their extinction, and the phone has been ringing off the hook with telemarketers trying to convince me that I should vote for Obama. (Enough already!)

The doorbell constantly beckons me to let in the nurses, who parade down the hall to grandma's room, carrying their never ending supply of cheerfulness in the hope of raising her spirits to an acceptable level. I don't know how they do it, day after day...but I want some of what ever it is that keeps grinning!

That being said, you can understand my frustration. I will, however, get something done today, even if it kills me.

FYI, I got a question yesterday from another illustrator/author.
He was debating on whether or not it was smart to report multiple submissions in your cover letter. Here's what I told him;

I'll answer your questions, based on what I've learned through the submission process over the years.

Whether we like it or not, publishers are going to talk amongst themselves. Put yourself in their shoes for a minute. Consider this....

How would you feel if you were, say...an assistant editor. A great manuscript just landed on your desk this morning (and there's no mention from the author that it's a multiple submission). You run into your bosses office and place it on top of the pile of others waiting to be reviewed. You say, "I think this might be the one". You're smiling brightly, eager to please your boss. He picks it up and skims the cover letter for the synopsis. "I don't think so," says your boss with a frown. "Jerry mentioned this guy over at the other firm, they recieved it too, and it's being considered."

This scenerio would leave a bad taste in the mouth of the assistant editor. You weren't honest enough to let them know you sent it elsewhere as well, and not only will he throw it out, he'll probably never look at your work again. You made him look like an idiot in front of his boss. And what if that "other firm" decides not to take it? Now you're twice screwed. You lost TWO oportunities....remember, the assistant editor really liked it? He might have helped you get published if you'd been honest. Sometimes, a manuscript is good enough to fight for, but not if the author was someone who tried to fool you from the get-go.

Honesty is the best policy. Even though I'm still waiting for a sale, I've had 4 of my manuscripts make it to the editors desk. Every one of them were multiple submissions. I don't think it hurts one bit to have the courtesy of letting them know it's out there. On the contrary, I think it's a good thing, as they might be more eager to snag it up quick to keep the "other firm" from getting first dibs!

Todays subject: The miracle of "Buttons".

It's day two. I made it back. Miracles do happen, and here's my proof. "Buttons" is still with us after 14 years. I can't help but smile when she's with me, so she's with me now. She's curled up in her basket and her feet are twitching as she sleeps. No doubt, she's chasing a cat in her dream or running through an open field in the bright sunshine, free of the leash and the arthritis that slows her down in reality. Every extra day I get to spend with her is precious and I'm reminded how quickly time passes. My best friend....she's taught me so much without saying a single word.

Todays subject: To Blog or not to Blog.

I keep reading all this stuff about blog pages. One magazine says they are the best tool out there for an artist's self promotion, another says they are creativity boosters for the artist's soul. Well, we'll see. I don't believe everything I read. I am, however, willing to give it a shot and see for myself.

I am already stretched to the limit and I can't (at this moment) imagine how I will find the time for daily entries, let alone the promised epiphanies the magazines boast about. But, (*sigh*) my life is filled with things that keep me from my art, so I'm up for trying anything that might bring me closer to it.

If nothing else, I know that by sharing, I will better appreciate the good things-and people in my life. Maybe it'll be like the berries, sweeter with time.