This page contains thoughts about readings, writings and the human condition. For observations and pictures of the great outdoors, go to Nature Notes

Opting for Ebooks and Pinging the Universe

July 9, 2010

I am an unabashed booklover. I love the feel of the book--smooth and cool, the look of the book--standing on the shelf or lying on the coffee table or nestled in a pillow, the smell of the book when it's new and when it's old, the sound of that crack when it's opened the first time, the rustle of the turning page, the thump as it's closed, the shush it makes as it's slid back onto the shelf. I live, quite literally, surrounded by books. As Arnold Lobel wrote in a Whiskers and Rhymes,

Books to the ceiling,
Books to the sky,
My piles of books are a mile high.
How I love them!
How I need them!
I'll have a long beard by the time I read them.

The sagging shelves that line these walls are full of the things that have made me who I am. I can devise endless rationalizations for hoarding this clutter--the detritus of a life as a bookworm. The children might want them someday. You never know when you might need to find that quote from a classic. Each book has a story about how it came to be on that shelf, whether or not I actually read it. If I got rid of them, I might not be able to document why a decision seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Or, worse, I might forget the forces that molded me. Besides, that extra fourteen inches of insulation probably makes my house more energy efficient.

This week in the Washington Post, Kathleen Parker mourned the sensory experiences that are lost when we exchange the printed page for its digitized facsimile. As a fellow book-smeller, I completely concur. Nonetheless, we citizens "of a certain age" need to recognize that those same sensory experiences that molded us and continue to push our pleasure buttons might not be "universally human" or necessary for human happiness. People managed to find pleasure long before there were books and most people, even today, manage to enjoy life despite the rarity of their close encounters with tomes of significant heft. While Proust may have gotten his rush from madeleines, those of us who have never experienced his special tea-soaked crumbs can still live full and meaningful lives. Our own experiences program us to respond to the stimuli that have given us pleasure. The next generation of "digital natives" will, no doubt, get similar neurotransmitter rushes as their fingers massage a keyboard with just the right patina of sweat and epithelial cells, when the gadget in their hand is exactly the same blend of slimness and durability that they remember from their youth.

Surrounded as I am by the printed word, my eyes are glued to the computer monitor as my fingers twitch over the keys. There's a Kindle at my elbow, where my new novel, Superfoot, is archived along with works by Jane Austen and Barbara Kingsolver and Stieg Larsson. Even though Emma is on my shelf, leather bound and gilt-edged, I downloaded it for next to nothing so I could read it without sneezing. When I wanted to read The Lacuna without adding those extra pounds to the carryon I was lugging through the airport, a few clicks brought it to my slim-and-durable electronic gadget for a bargain price. When I finished The Girl Who Played with Fire, I immediately bought and dove into its sequel without using the time or fossil fuels I would have consumed in a trip to the bookstore. Much as I love those dusty, molding, yellowed, disintegrating, weighty tomes, I'm getting quite cozy with my electronic books.

By writing, we share a little piece of our world view. We succeed when our ideas push their way into someone else's consciousness and alter their perspective, just a little. The medium doesn't have to be the message; the message can be the message. The digitized book might be different, but it's not at all bad. It doesn't require killing trees, using toxic inks and burning fuel to transport tons of paper. I don't know if anybody has calculated carbon footprints to compare electronic books with the traditional book distribution system, but it sure seems as if it would take less energy to beam bytes than to ship all that wood pulp. If the story is a good one, the reader can still be transported to the world that the writer created, whether the words appear on paper or on a screen.

Because we are locked into the idea that books should be handed off to others who will appreciate them, many people balk at the idea that a friend might have to pay for their own copy. Shift that mindset. Think of the price of the electronic book as you would think of the price of a movie ticket. Just as you and your friend would both expect to buy tickets when you went out to share a movie, it makes sense that you should both buy "tickets" for the hours of enjoyment you will get from a book you want to share. Families can share their libraries because a single account can be linked to several devices. Free software can be downloaded for a variety of different devices. Mom can check out Junior's reading assignment on her PC while Junior sprawls on the couch with the family Kindle. When Junior comes to an unfamiliar word, he can simply highlight it to get a dictionary consult without even walking across the room to that Unabridged Dictionary on the stand in the corner.

No doubt there will be those who claim that Superfoot isn't a "real" book until it exists on paper. Still, it's out there in the Kindle Store and on Smashwords for those who might enjoy a few hours in my world, where people are basically good if occasionally misguided, characters grow and change, and at least sometimes conflicts resolve with a feel-good ending. Maybe a few people will stumble into Superfoot as they look for other things. And who knows? Maybe a few people will adjust their judgments of others, just a little, because they've had a peek through my spectacles. It could happen.

Introducing SUPERFOOT

June 16, 2010

Superfoot is the story of a boy and his grandfather. Young Adam Clarke used to play soccer. He ran fast, played hard and got into the right place at the right time. But then an injury landed him in the hospital, complications ensued and he ended up with a crooked leg. After that, he hated hospitals. The whole idea of doctors and pills made him sick. So, even when allergies and asthma interfered with his breathing and his growth, he refused to have anything to do with modern medicine. Then, in the midst of a family crisis, Adam gets a close-up view of how his grandfather copes with his Parkinson’s Disease. Grandpop helps Adam see that medicine, properly used, can make a huge difference in people’s lives. As he practices putting himself in other people’s shoes, Adam discovers how he can use Grandpop’s lessons not only to get back onto the soccer field, but also to help others.

The book industry is entering a brave new world. While there will always be a role for books in print, books in electronic format are the wave of the future. New gadgets, like Amazon’s Kindle and the Sony reader, provide readers with a slim book-sized hand-held device that can display text on a six-inch screen. Books can be bought with a few clicks from an on-line store that sends the content wirelessly directly to the device within minutes. The reader can choose the font size. Page are turned by pressing a button. There’s a built in dictionary that can be consulted by highlighting a word. Readers can make “notes in the margin” using the built-in keyboard. There’s even a text-to-voice feature that reads the text aloud.

Superfoot makes its debut as a Kindle book so it can be accessible not only to nimble-fingered, sharp-eyed youngsters, but also to those who can’t read small print and have trouble turning paper pages. Also, because the electronic format eliminates the need for paper, ink and bulk transportation, I hope that the story can have an impact on minds and hearts while having minimum impact on the environment.

Because he taught me so much about how to analyze problems to find solutions this book is dedicated, “To Dad.”

A Real Book for Real Book Lovers

August 5, 2009

I just have to weigh in on The Selected Works of T. S. Spivet by Reif Larson. What a beautiful book! When you see it on a shelf, you have to pick it up. When you feel its heft and the cool smoothness of its old-fashioned cover, you have to open it. When you peer into its pages full of wide-open prose bordered by quirky marginalia, you have to start reading it. By the time you’ve read one chapter, Tecumseh Sparrow Spivet has you under his spell. You care about him. You want to go where he goes and see the world as he sees it. Even when this hero’s journey takes a circuitous path and the fiction becomes stranger than truth, you willingly suspend your disbelief to explore the depths of the universe of T. S. Spivet. Here’s a book that made me glad it rained during my vacation so I could curl up and read it uninterrupted. Even in the age of GPS and Google Earth, there’s a place for a carefully crafted story of a boy whose mind contains a map of the universe, just waiting to be rendered, contour by contour, onto archival paper with a properly sharpened pencil. Its very existence gives hope that there will still be real books for real booklovers when all these electronic gadgets finally flicker and go dark.

When I went to Amazon to post my five-star review, I read some of the other reviews. Jeez. Who are these people? Don’t they know that books are supposed to be different than movies? In a book, the author, acting as the reader’s guide on a journey of exploration, can vary the pace and go on side trips to deepen the reader’s experience of the world between the covers. The intelligent reader, unlike the movie viewer, isn’t locked into a relentless rollercoaster ride going only in one direction at a predetermined pace, but is free to meander and savor the details or speed up and forego some of the pleasures, and maybe even backtrack to reexamine pieces later when their relevance might become more apparent. It seems to me that people who start whining "are we there yet?" while T. S. reads his mother's story about his distant ancestors just don't get it. They don't realize that a story is a map of the consciousness, and that the contours of each person’s story arise from the consciousness of their parents and their parents’ parents. Okay, so maybe sometimes T. S. doesn’t really sound like a 12-year-old, and maybe it’s not “realistic” that he would find a Winnebago on that platform car. Tsk! As if A. A. Milne consistently stayed within the confines Christopher Robin’s emerging skill set! And how “believable” was it when Dorothy’s house landed on the Wicked Witch in Oz? It’s a story! Can’t they just say “Hah! What next?” and go along for the ride? We should pity them. We should pity anybody who is so busy finding fault that they can’t enjoy the good things in life. The Selected Works of T. S. Spivet is a work to be treasured. This is one reader who is grateful that Reif Larson and the people at Penguin Press have put this beautiful book out there, despite the economic risks in this hostile territory where anybody who reaches toward the sun is immediately surrounded by snipers. Here's hoping they don't get discouraged before they give us a sequel! Live long and prosper, Sparrow!

Poverty, Stress and Cognitive Function

April 7, 2009

Recent research described in The Washington Post on April 6, 2009, links poverty and stress in childhood with problems with working memory in young adults. Rob Stein’s article describes how Gary W. Evans, professor of human ecology at Cornell University in Ithaca, NY, has studied 195 children over 14 years. Evans measured levels of stress hormones (cortisol, epinephrine and norepinephrine), blood pressure and body mass index to determine their “allostatic load” at ages 9 and 13, and tested their working memory at age 17.

Allostatic load, as described by Bruce McEwen and Teresa Seeman, encompasses the “cumulative negative effects, or the price the body pays for being forced to adapt to various psychosocial challenges and adverse environments.” How efficiently we turn on and off the hormones that help us cope with stressors depends on many factors including genetics and previous experience, and persistent high levels of stress hormones is thought to be related to long-term health problems, such as atherosclerosis. In this study, Evans looked for correlations between allostatic load and cognitive function by measuring working memory.

According to Jeff Rouder, associate professor of psychology at the University of Missouri College of Arts and Science, as quoted in Science Daily, April 28, 2008, “working memory is the mental process of holding information in a short-term, readily accessible, easily manipulated form where it can be combined, rearranged and stored more productively.” If we can’t keep several pieces of information in mind simultaneously, we can’t see how the pieces relate to each other or to the other parts of our mental data banks. Problems with working memory can interfere with problem solving and decision making as well as formation of long-term memory.

Evans found that his subjects who spent more of their childhood in poverty had higher allostatic loads and lower working memory. Can we then conclude that childhood stress causes a decrease in working memory?

I don’t think so, at least not from the information presented in Stein’s summary. There are too many missing links; correlation does not necessarily imply causation. Other factors associated with poverty—such as air quality, toxin exposures, nutrition, TV time, family dynamics, language exposure, school experiences, not to mention the availability of books, games and other educational resources--can be expected to have effects on brain development even in the absence of the maladaptive stress responses indicated by the biological markers that contribute to the “allostatic load.”

How stressful was the testing itself? To what extent does previous experience with medical procedures impact the results of the hormone tests and blood pressure readings? How might the “poor” group differ from the “not poor” group in this regard?

So many things, from momentary anxieties to the time elapsed since the last meal could skew the catecholamine results. How were these controlled? Were multiple measurements taken or was a single “snapshot” considered adequate?

I would be very surprised if those aggregates did not include some kids in the “not poor” group who were stressed and some kids in the “poor” group who were not stressed as indicated by those biomarkers. I wonder how these “outliers” performed on the working memory tests.

From the information presented by Stein, we know nothing about other developmental milestones, cognitive function or educational interventions prior to the working memory test at age 17. Were the kids who performed poorly the same ones who lacked “school readiness skills” when they entered kindergarten? Did their working memory problems come and go as their family incomes fluctuated or as supportive or abusive relationships came and went from their lives? How did the development of their working memory compare with their age-mates? Did they lose memory capacity that they previously had had, or did they fail to develop capacities that their more-advantaged, less-stressed counterparts developed over time?

When Evans suggests that efforts to close the cognitive function gap between the haves and the have-nots requires not only taking more trips to the library, also addressing the role of chronic stress in their lives, he’s not saying anything new. In 1943, long before anyone tried to measure “allostatic load,” Abraham Maslow described a Hierarchy of Needs. His paper, “A Theory of Human Motivation” develops the idea that basic human needs must be met before motivation for higher achievements occurs. When basic physiologic needs aren’t met, when people don’t feel safe or loved or respected, people are unlikely to perform well on tests of mental gymnastics. Maslow makes sense. We shouldn’t be surprised that kids who don’t know where their next meal is coming from, or who dodge bullies and bullets on their way home from school, might not indulge in the same kinds of brain exercises as those who are less needy, and that, over time, this might result in differences in cognitive function as measured by tests of working memory.

Evans’s work seems to provide some biological evidence in support of Maslow’s theory. It shows us that poverty, working memory and biological markers of stress are all in the same stew pot, but it’s not at all clear how each got in there.

Stress and Resilience

February 21, 2009

In Newsweek, February 23, 2009, two interesting pieces remind us that some stress might be good for us. Mary Carmichael’s article, “Who Says Stress is Bad for You,” points out that while “stress” has been blamed for a host of problems from heart disease to dementia, the physiologic responses that occur in life-or-death situations actually contribute to our survival, if only we can moderate them successfully. Anthony L. Komaroff’s article, “The Usual Suspect,” argues that “the link between stress and disease has been oversold,” because even though stress can aggravate existing conditions it is not the underlying cause of most of the diseases to which it has been linked.

Stress is inevitable. All living things interact constantly with their environment. Stuff happens. Whether we’re a single-celled slime mold or a highly educated human, we have to deal with it. Heat stress, cold stress, mechanical shearing factors, changes in pH, oxygen depletion, hyperosmolarity—the threats to our very existence are never-ending. Still, life manages to maintain homeostasis despite the overwhelming odds against it. Why is it that some people start falling apart at the seams when a traffic light turns red when they are five minutes late for picking up their kids at the sitter’s while other people manage to keep it all together through earthquakes and tsunamis? It’s not necessarily the stressor that’s the problem. It’s the way we process it. When life gives us lemons, do we let the acid eat away at us until our innards start to crumble, or do we make lemonade to share with friends?

As Dr. Komoroff admits, doctors often say “it’s just stress” when they have no better explanation for a patient’s complaints. Unfortunately, this pronouncement can do more harm than good. People who weren’t stressed before can get totally stressed out when their esteemed physician says they must be stressed. People who were already stressed get wound up tighter when they get the message that their all-too-real suffering is dissed and dismissed. As if the cold examining room, the prick of the needle and the magnitude of the doctor bill weren’t sufficiently noxious stimuli!

Carmichael notes that people, like the rats in the study she cites, handle stress better when they are in control of their lives. Even the illusion of control helps. There may be tremendous destructive forces acting all around us, but if we can exert control in our immediate environment we can damp down that physiologic fight-or-flight response instead of ramping it up. Maybe I can’t stop the deforestation of the rainforest habitats, but I can feed the birds in my backyard. Maybe I can’t end racism, but I can treat the people I meet every day with respect. Maybe I can’t fix world hunger, but I can fix a meal for my family. Maybe I can’t stop the economy from tanking, but if I live frugally, I can make a little go a long way.

Carmichael’s article refers us to a www.webmed.com/newsweek/resilience where there’s a quiz about resilience. Of special note there is this point: resilient people stop thinking about themselves as victims and start thinking of themselves as survivors. Sure, bad stuff happens, and really bad stuff can overwhelm even the most resilient of souls. However, with a little help from our friends, we can shift away from “Why me?” and ask ourselves instead, “Okay, so now what do I do to get from here to there?” As we adjust our view of the world and our place in it, we can reclaim our role as the hero of our own story and chart a new course toward a better tomorrow.

2009: The Year to Take Time for Books

In the Washington Post Outlook Section on Sunday, December 21, 2008, Carleen Brice proclaimed that December is “Buy a Book by a Black Author and Give it to Somebody Not Black Month.” Even while she suggests ("with tongue firmly lodged against cheek") a campaign for race-based buying, Brice points out the irony in the establishment of African American sections in book stores. Of course, books in stores and libraries need to be sorted so that people can find them easily. That’s why there are systems that discriminate based on topic, genre, and alphabetical order. But, really, should we segregate books on the shelves by race? Doesn’t that just seem wrong?

Okay, maybe I have a personal agenda here. Maybe I want more readers to find my book too. Finch Goes Wild tells the story of a good middle class kid working to become his best self in spite of other people’s expectations, just like so many of the real kids I’ve known as a pediatrician and a teacher. The protagonist is African American. The author is not. Before the book got its cover, readers sometimes got half-way through the book before suddenly realizing: “Hey, wait a minute, is this kid black?” Readers of various hues have enjoyed getting to know my hero, Harmon Finch. His story is daringly wholesome, featuring band geeks, bird watchers and standard English grammar. (Yes, Virginia, there are black lives that are not dominated by pimps, drugs and gangs.) When Harmon gets to experience a wider world, he finds that his own decisions determine his destiny. Finch Goes Wild is a nice little book. It was honored with the AfrAm Literary Award for Best Young Adult Title of 2007. Still, sales could be better.

Actually, it’s not just my book that isn’t selling. The whole book industry is suffering. The number of independent publishers and booksellers continues to dwindle, even while many new literary voices clamor to be heard. Even the big players of the publishing world find the need to cut back and reorganize. So many thoughtful, interesting, insightful - even exciting - books sit gathering dust while people spend their time and money on electronic gadgets.

By giving us a unique window on what other people think, books can expand our view of the human experience. Reading works by and about people who are different from ourselves increases understanding, nurtures tolerance and deepens our capacity for empathy. So sure. Save your local bookstore! Feed a starving author! Support your local library! Share interesting ideas and new perspectives with people you care about! Buy books. Give books. Share books. Read books. Talk about books--lots of books about lots of different kinds of people. But please, don’t limit your choices based on race. And why limit your book-buying to December? Make 2009 your year to “Take Time for Books.” When you find one that stretches your brain and expands your world view, spread the word.

Preparing for Winter

December 14, 2008

“Partly sunny, high of 52,” it says in the paper. However, in the park today, it’s bleak and oh-so December. Grey, grey, grey. The holly is a bright spot—still green, with more berries than usual. Last month, Brigid Schulte reported in the Washington Post that local oak trees haven’t produced many acorns this year. I wonder if the squirrels who can’t find acorns will eat those holly berries instead. Do cyclic changes in fruit and nut production contribute to biodiversity by providing checks and balances to population growth of the various species who share our neck of the woods? No sooner had this interesting question popped into my head than it was displaced by another: What does the park maintenance crew think they are accomplishing with that horrid leaf blower? Its grating scraping and whining blasts out through the woods disturbing the peace. I feel my soul cringe and my brow crease. There’s no escaping it. Forget about listening for the rustle of leaves or the drumming of woodpeckers. Even the Carolina wren can’t be heard through that racket. Pollen and mold spores that have silently rained down get dislodged from their resting places and hurled back into the air along with the carbon dioxide and assorted noxious gases emitted from the leaf blower. For what? Just to move a few errant leaves from the paved path a few feet over to the forest floor.

It's coming on Christmas. They're cutting down trees.
They're putting up reindeer, singing songs of joy and peace.
Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on. --Joni Mitchell

Harmon Makes Friends!

May 27, 2008

At the 2008 Afr'Am Fest in Norfolk on May 25, Finch Goes Wild was awarded the Afr'Am Literary Award for "Best Young Adult Title of 2007." I am truly honored to have my work recognized by the Southeastern Virginia Arts Association as part of their "Reading is a Family Affair" campaign. I hope this acknowledgement will help more young people see that their own stories are worth telling, and that they can learn a great deal by looking at the world through other people's eyes.

Notes from Becca's Backyard: Developing Core Math Skills Without Math Anxiety

March 14, 2008

A summary of a new report from the National Mathematics Advisory Panel in today's Washington Post. It says that "students need a deeper understanding of basic skills, including fluency with whole numbers and fractions." Does this surprise anybody?

This week as I was teaching my community college students about how to use the information on food labels to make good eating decisions, I again watched the "I don't do math" curtain fall across their faces. ("Who, me? Manipulate numbers and understand what they mean? Forget about it.") But these people want to be nurses and pharmacists and respiratory therapists. What will happen to their patients if they don't know where to put the decimal point, or if they can't recognize that a measurement is significantly out of line?

Quantitative reasoning is not just for students who will become scientists and engineers. The number sense and logical thinking that emerges when kids master core math skills enable them to make better decisions in all walks of life. Which laundry detergent is the better buy? Is this sub-prime mortgage a good idea? What does the doctor mean when she tells me that six out of ten people who take this antidepressant get better? Understanding what numbers mean is essential as we evaluate our options every day.

Too often, kids get to a point where math seems "hard," and they just stop doing it. How can we help them get past those rough patches and contimue to develop their quantitative reasoning skills? Teachers need to help kids succeed by giving the right lesson at the right time. When they spend enough time practicing basic skills and applying those skills to problems of everyday life, they can discover all kinds of interesting things about numbers. I hope that reading about Becca in Danger: Long Division will help to inoculate kids against the math anxiety that paralyzes so many young adults.

More notes from Harmon's Woods: Using Young Adult Fiction to Teach Tolerance

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Ethan Oppenheimer, the hero of Pamela Ehrenberg's young adult novel, Ethan Suspended has never met Harmon, but they are kindred spirits -- young musicians seeking harmony in a world of discord. If you haven't met Ethan yet, you really ought to.

Early adolescents can get so locked into their own egocentric view of the world. One good way to stretch their brains is to get them to see the world through the eyes of somebody who is different from themselves. Fiction can help.

Ethan Suspended is a great example of story that can promote understanding across ethnic divides. Diverse people in this story, both young and old, come to better understandings of each other through ordinary, everyday interactions. As Ethan gets to know people who come from outside his previous comfort zone, readers grow along with him in their realization that these folks are human beings too. Felix and Daron and Diego and Sharita are all people that Ethan would never have hung out with during his previous life in Maple Heights, PA. Gangs, drug dealing, parents who make kids miss school to babysit--all that stuff is way outside Ethan's experience. But when he moves to DC to live with his grandparents, he finds regular kids dealing with this stuff on a daily basis. His grandparents seem like they are from a different planet, but as he understands them better, they become real people to him too. As Ethan's mind gets broadened, so does the reader's. It's a great vehicle for teaching tolerance.

I just had the pleasure of listening to a discussion of whether Ethan Suspended should be considered a Jewish book. What makes a book Jewish? Certainly, I'm no authority on this, but that doesn't keep me from having an opinion.

Here's a book by a Jewish author featuring Jewish characters whose decisions are informed by Jewish values. The grandparents seem a lot like other Jewish grandparents I have known -- my own kids' grandparents, for instance -- but they're not that different from other non-Jewish grandparents I've known. You know how Ethan's grandmother wipes off his face using a spittle-moistened thumb? My mother used to do that to me, and she wasn't Jewish. We see that this family has a lot of values which could be considered "Jewish," but they aren't exactly "observant." Ethan's diet in Maple Heights included non-kosher foods. The dietary differences in his grandparents' home seem more due to age than due to culture of religion. While they don't celebrate Christmas, we don't see them celebrating any Jewish holidays or keeping the Sabbath. Still, there are probably lots of Jewish kids these days who are just like Ethan, not really connected to the "old ways," but not feeling like they are totally part of the mainstream either. Ethan does a mitzvah when he warns Diego that he is in danger. He does his best to atone when he feels that his actions have resulted in harm to Daron. He helps to organize his peers to do good in his community. His decisions to do these things all seem to be informed by Jewish values. Furthermore, the "stranger in a strange land" theme is part of the archetypal Jewish experience. So, I have no trouble seeing this books as a "Jewish" book.

However, I do have a problem with labeling books and categorizing them according to their ethnicity. We shouldn't build ghettoes in our libraries -- Christian books here, Jewish books there, black books here, white books there. I consider it offensive that our local library, for instance, shelves all the "black interest" books together, separate from the rest of the collection. Puh-leez. There are way too many white folk who would never take a book off the shelf of black books, and way too many black folk who let other people limit their book selections. If the books are integrated, the people are more likely to stumble upon books that will help them see life through the eyes of someone different from themselves. This is one great hope for promoting better understanding. I wonder how my own world view would be different if I had not stumbled upon the works of Chaim Potok and Leon Uris as a teenager.

Through novels, people can find out what other people think. If you put Ethan Suspended on the "Jewish" shelf, then non-Jewish kids won't think it's for them. And it is. It's for everybody. Sure, Jewish kids of today will relate to Ethan, and their parents and teachers will consider this book "suitable." But also, reading Ethan Suspended can give non-Jewish kids a look at what's going on in a Jewish kid's head. They can see kids like themselves through the sympathetic eyes of a somewhat puzzled stranger. This is important. This is why even if Ethan Suspended qualifies as a "Jewish" book, I would argue against labeling it that way so that it will be read by lots of different kinds of kids. After all, it's really about tolerance. Put it on the shelf right next to Finch Goes Wild.

More Notes from Harmon's Woods: Earth Exhales

Sunday, October 28, 2007

We thought it would never rain again, but it did, for four days straight. The trees shiver with new vigor, even as their green goes gold. Kicking through the leaf litter, looking up at the blue sky through the thinning leaves, I can't help thinking about carbon dioxide. As the temperate forests of the northern hemisphere shed their leaves, these trees will stop taking the carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. Those leaves, decomposing or possibly raked up and burnt, will return carbon dioxide to the atmosphere. Meanwhile, as the temperature drops and days shorten, we will burn more fossil fuels to heat and light our homes. So, as the weather gets colder, greenhouse gases shift. The earth exhales. I wonder: If average temperatures go up, will the trees keep their leaves longer? Or will they fall sooner because of lack of soil moisture.

In today's Washington Post there's a story about a guy on a hunger strike, fasting until the Congress goes home to call attention to the climate change crisis. Reporter Dan Zak wisely asks, "Speaking for people who don't have the fortitude to fast, what can we do?" And this guy goes on about bringing pressure to bear on legislators, joining organizations and speaking up. Well yeah. But what does all that hot air do to the greenhouse gases? Maybe the lack of fuel for his neurons made him miss this important opportunity to put across the real answer: Drive less. Drive slower. Turn the thermostat down and put on a sweater. Shower for two minutes instead of ten. To see the fall foliage, don't get in that SUV and drive for two hours but stay home and enjoy your neighborhood park. We can't wait for the slow wheels of democracy to do what we need to do. It's not about making other people make new rules. It's about taking greenhouse gases into consideration in the myriad little decisions we make about how we live our lives. For more things we can all do to decrease our contribution to greenhouse gases, go to www.climatecrisis.net/takeaction/whatyoucando

Notes from Harmon’s Neighborhood

Saturday, September 08, 2007

"Looks like we got Trouble. Right here in River City. With a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for ..."
--The Music Man

Last week the denizens of Harmon's neighborhood met to discuss concerns about undesirable activities going on the in neighborhood park—illegal sales being transacted from cars with DC plates, evidence of illegal substance use hidden in the shrubbery. Cars racing, motors revving at all hours. Derelict properties inviting trouble. It was standing-room-only, with representatives from the county police, the park police and an assortment of leaders of local home owners associations as well as The Neighbors. The police chief said they'd increase police presence gave the people advice about "what to do if..." I wondered if I'd portrayed a fantasy world in "Finch Goes Wild."

But then a young man, who looked a lot like Derek, took the floor. He said that he might be a young person, but he also has an interest in making sure this neighborhood safe for his little son. And if people thought his music was too loud, they could just ask him to turn it down. Another elder spoke my thoughts: See? Just because they are young and male doesn't mean they are criminals.

Another young man, Harmon's age, addressed the room crowded with adults, asking why the basketball backboards had been removed from the park, and would they be replaced. Renovations are underway, he was told.

Police promised faster response times and better enforcement of minor violations. Community leaders admonished the populace to talk to their own children about activities in the park and to live by the "Fixing Broken Windows" principle.

Yesterday, September arrived. That cool promise of autumn replaced the dog days of summer. All along the street, neighbors mowed lawns and trimmed shrubs. A family walked along the sidewalk, pushing a baby in a stroller. People talked with each other. A group of middle schoolers came by with petition about the basketball court. As I added my name to the list, I thought, "Yes! We will take back that park." Those boys can play basketball and Harmon can throw sticks for Bud to chase.

Inspired, I didn't quit when I finished mowing the lawn. I ripped and pulled until I got all of that kudzu off my threatened red bud, amelanchier and rose-mallow.

Sharing a world view

August 22, 2007

I write contemporary fiction for young people. My characters are good kids who struggle with making sense of the world. Sometimes they are confused. Sometimes they are sad. Sometimes they are angry. As I write them out of the jams they get into, I see that they do the best they can to muddle through the everyday dilemmas they face without the aid of superpowers of magic wands. They grow. They find a better way to relate to a complex world.

How realistic should realistic fiction be? I've been thinking about this as I read the postings on KL Going's forum concerning a parental complaint about "bad words" in her wonderful book, Fat Kid Rules the World. In my own books, my characters deal with some heavy issues, but I've kept the language "inoffensive" purposely so that parents can feel confidant that their preteens can read my work without being "contaminated." Just because your favorite 10-year-old reads "on a tenth grade level," doesn't mean they are ready for the edgy young adult works that are appropriate for older readers.

What kind of world do we present as the "real world"? When I go on a walk through Harmon's woods, I can pay attention to the candy wrappers littering the trail, the poison ivy and the dog "scat," or I can pay attention to the flight path of the birds, the intricacy of a spider's web, the feel of the cool mist, and the tilt of a tree trunk among a tangle of vines. When I look at a young person's face, I can count the zits, or I can read the angst and the yearning. How we filter the details of the world changes our world view.

As fiction writers select details to include in our works, we share our world view with our readers. I wonder: How does a young person's world view affect his vision of his place in the world? While we have a reader immersed in our pages, can our different view of a better world nurture more positive attitudes?

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