Author, animal lover, polio survivor
I’ve had a Humane Society foster cat for ten weeks. Due to her health problems, she was taken off the adoptable list about a month ago.
On Monday, I adopted her. She’s been to my vet for X-rays and an ultrasound, and I got good news. Her problems are not as serious as originally thought. The big hurdle now is that she’s scared of Lucy and is reluctant to move from the foster cat room into the house. I’ll be patient. She is a sweet, 13-year-old cat with a deep, rumbling purr.
Yesterday was my wedding anniversary. I met my friend, Mark Smithberg, for breakfast at Lil’ Jon’s, where we get the best cinnamon rolls in the world.
Carl and I used to go to Lil’ Jon’s often and Mark (our unofficial son) went with us many times, so it was a fitting place to start the day. We met yesterday because Mark had made a baby gift for my granddaughter’s upcoming baby shower and he needed to get it to me to take to the shower.
While we waited for our cinnamon rolls, Mark said, “Today is your wedding anniversary, isn’t it?” I was amazed that he would remember. When I said, “Yes,” he said, “Happy anniversary!” and handed me a gift.
Not just any old gift. It was a vintage player piano roll of a song that I did not even know existed: “The Franklin D. Roosevelt March.” Because FDR was a polio survivor, I’ve always had a special interest in him and, of course, I love to pump my old player piano.
This gift was a complete surprise, and it was perfect. A loving friend’s thoughtfulness made me smile the entire day.
Congratulations to the students in 6P and 6M at Heath School in Chestnut Hill, Massachusets. Inspired by Saving Lilly and Shelter Dogs, they are helping the Massachusets SPCA fight animal abuse. They’re also helping Grey2k, a non-profit organization dedicated to stopping greyhound racing. As you can see by their flyer, the kids are working hard to raise money and collect needed materials for these worthy causes.
I am honored to know that my books inspired them to take action to help animals.
When Carl and I got married, in 1955, friends of my parents who lived in New Orleans sent us six beautiful plates, each with a different New Orleans scene. I loved those plates when we opened the gift, and I still love them.
On one of our New Orleans trips, we took along a list of the six scenes, and set out to find them. It was a fun quest, and we found all six of them.
I’m having dinner guests tonight. You can probably guess which plates I’ll be using.
The American Library Association meets this week in New Orleans, a fact which floods me with memories. I have attended several ALA conferences – two in New Orleans – and they were always wonderful. The keynote speakers, the amazing exhibit hall, the autographing sessions, the Newbery banquet, the local food, and the ambiance of a great city kept me in a constant state of excitement which was heightened by meeting favorite editors and other authors, dining with publishers, and feeling solidly connected to the whole book industry. I remember watching thousands of eager librarians as they hurried to the convention center and thinking, We are all here because we love books. I have never felt more proud to be an author.
I miss conventions. I miss the opportunity to chat with librarians from all across the country, and to get to know the publisher’s new (for they change frequently) marketing staff, and to talk shop with my fellow writers. This is the hardest part of dealing with post-polio syndrome. It is no longer possible, even when I use a wheelchair, for me to enjoy that kind of travel.
Attending an ALA conference always infused me with creative energy. I would return home eager to pursue my next project, filled with dreams of the book that I’d sign at a future convention.
Those were magical years for me, and the magic of being an author continues. I read voraciously. My new book (Animals Welcome: A Life of Reading, Writing and Rescue) will be out next Summer. Secluded here in the forest, clear across the continent from the New Orleans Convention Center, I am still part of the community of book lovers.
It has happened again. For the second time, a famous author has chosen the title of one of my books as the title for his newest work.
The first time it was Louis Sachar. The long-awaited sequel to his marvelous Newbery winner, Holes, was called Small Steps. Since Small Steps: The Year I Got Polio is one of my most popular books, I was chagrined by this, and worried that there would be confusion.
Now John Grisham has published the second book in his middle-grade series about Theodore Boone, The Abduction. I liked the first book in this series a lot and have ordered this new one but I do wish Mr. Grisham had chosen a different title. At least there’s a The on his title to distinguish it from my Abduction.
Titles can not be copyrighted, and I’m certain neither Mr. Sachar nor Mr. Grisham intended to cause me distress. But I can’t help feeling these were MY titles and wishing they’d chosen something else.
The Japanese edition of Night of Fear is out. My copies arrived yesterday and, even though I can’t read Japanese, I love it. There are several interior illustrations, which neither of the English editions had, and there is a slim blue ribbon bound in with the pages so you never lack a book mark.
Foreign editions are one of the most fun parts of being a writer. It’s hard to believe that kids far across the ocean are reading my words in a language that I can’t decipher.
Thanks to the students at Spring Forge Intermediate School in Manchester PA for this photo.
When Small Steps: The Year I Got Polio was published, the editor wanted to use a picture of me in my wheelchair on the cover. I looked for one and learned that after I got well, my mother had destroyed all photos of me in the wheelchair because she didn’t want to remember that time. So we used a photo of Alice and Dorothy, two of my hospital roommates, instead.
This caused no end of confusion. Everyone wanted to know which of the girls in the photo was me. When the paperback was published and, later, the Tenth Anniversary edition, we used a picture of me when I was home from the hospital for a Christmas visit.
Most of my letters from young readers make me smile, but this one had me grinning before I ever opened the envelope.