Author: Peg Kehret

Writing is a cerebral occupation, one in which many intellectual decisions must be made. For example, today I am going through my editor’s comments on Animals Welcome. I’ve worked with this editor before, and whenever she has questions or suggestions about a manuscript I pay attention because she is usually right.

In this book I had mentioned elk scat, and the editor wondered if kids would know what that is. Country kids, or the children of hunters, probably will; city kids probably won’t. Since I want all readers to understand what I say, I changed elk scat to elk poop. Every kid knows what poop is, and they’ll think the word is funny. Yes, I make many intellectual choices each day.

An e-mail from a young fan wished me a happy National Author’s Day. I had never heard of this occasion but I checked and discovered that yes, indeed, Nov. 1 has officially been National Author’s Day since 1946.  How could I not have known this all these years?  It sounds to me like a fine excuse to celebrate with chocolate.

If you want to do something nice for your favorite author, post a positive book review on Amazon or Barnes & Noble.  

A letter I wrote to a reader was returned. “No such address. Can’t forward.”  I had used the self-addressed envelope that the reader had enclosed with her letter to me.

The days grow shorter. Rain, cold, wind. I decided to stock up on essentials so that if we get snow or icy roads I don’t have to drive. My essentials included two cases of cat food. Molly eats sparingly (as sensible older folks should; I could learn from my cat) but Mr. Stray and Woody, the new feral, have big appetites.

I added a new quote, from Robert Ellsberg, to my quote journal: “This is the decision I have to make every morning: I can rise and think about what has been done to me, what I have lost…or I can rise and say to myself, “Here I am. Let’s get moving!”

I’ve been working on a nonfiction book that requires a great deal of research. In some ways, the Internet makes research much easier than it used to be. Instead of squinting at microfilm in a library, I can access old newspaper and magazine articles on line. On the other hand, there is so much misinformation on the Internet that I’ve had to double and triple-check sources. Often I find more than one answer to the same question.

All of this made me curious about just how much erroneous information has been published on line about me. In less than two minutes, I read that I was born in 1937 (wrong) and that I had attended Rutgers and Penn State (both wrong.) I found a book site for readers that includes a “Peg Kehret Message Board” where people have sent me messages and asked me questions. The trouble is, I don’t have anything to do with this site and have no way to answer the questions.  I try to reply to all mail and email, and I respond to comments on my Facebook author page, so it’s frustrating to realize that people posted questions and comments, and assumed I got them, when I didn’t.

With all the problems of the Internet, however, I can not imagine being without it. It may or may not save research time overall, but it certainly broadens the scope of what I learn.

One of the sites where people can post questions for the public to answer came up on my Google Alerts one day last week. The question was, “When did Peg Kehret die?” I found it interesting that the poster did not ask IF I had died or not; he/she took that as a given. Maybe I look worse than I thought.

I decided not to answer the question myself because I was curious to see how others would respond. Then I forgot about it, deleted the Google notice, and don’t remember where the question had been asked. 

For anyone who is wondering, I am still here, typing these words myself, and glad of it.

I spent the weekend in Richland, WA, celebrating my grandson, Mark’s, 18th birthday. He is a senior in high school this year, and I am proud of him, as I am of all my grandkids. It takes me four and a half hours to drive from my house to my son’s family in Richland – a long, tiring drive by myself, but worth it.

On the way home I thought about how important it is to show up, if possible, for life’s special events. We need to celebrate together whenever we can.

Showing up is also important for a writer. Unless I show up at my computer, day after day, week after week, and put my thoughts into words, I’ll have no book to celebrate a year from now. Without the long drive, I miss the party. Without the long struggle with a first draft, I miss out on publication.

I had a wonderful afternoon at the Children’s Book Shop in Puyallup. How could I not? There were stacks of my books available, platters of cookies, and even a basket of miniature chocolate bars within reach of where I sat.

Best of all, I had a chance to visit with kids, parents, teachers and librarians about my books. I arrived early but there was already an enthusiastic group waiting for me.  Here I am with the kids who were first in line to get their books signed.

Today’s mail brought a nice addition to my “awards wall.”

Every year when the local sweet corn is ripe I have Pig Day, when I eat nothing but corn on the cob. For many years, Carl and I had a garden and grew our own corn. Pig Day was always a much-anticipated event. Corn is best when the pot of water is put on to boil before you go outdoors to pick the corn. Then the ears get shucked and dropped immediately into the boiling water. We called it ten-minute-corn: ten minutes from stalk to mouth.

I’m no longer able to tend a garden, and even if I were, the deer would have their own Pig Day before the corn was ready to be picked. (Last night they ate all my phlox – big white blossoms that were hidden behind large rhododendruns next to my front porch.)

Today was Pig Day. I bought the corn at my local farmer’s market. According to their sign, it was grown in Yakima and picked yesterday. Not exactly ten-minute corn but less than 24 hours, and the best I can do. My usual diet rules do not apply on Pig Day, so I ate the corn dripping with melted butter and sprinkled with salt.

Researchers tells us that pigs are extremely intelligent animals – smarter, even, than dogs. Their fondness for corn is proof enough for me.

Oink, oink.

I always read the ads for back-to-school supplies. To me, these supplies are not backpacks, shoes or jackets. They are pencils, notebooks, pens, and other writing related items. This year I saw an ad that I couldn’t resist. For only ten cents I could purchase four spiral notebooks. I chose the colors carefully, knowing I needed four different colors because I would use the notebooks for four projects.

For another ten cents, I got a pack of those little erasers that go on pencils because the erasers that come on the pencils turn into rocks as soon as I make one mistake on the daily crossword puzzle.

To thank the store for having such great specials, I also bought two reams of computer paper and a new printer cartridge. I’m sure the cost of the cartridge negated any savings I’d made on the notebooks and erasers, but I went home happy, eager to write in a brand new spiral notebook.

I do 99% of my writing on a computer. Correspondence is via e-mail. So why do I covet spiral notebooks? Perhaps it’s nostalgia for the days when I took my kids shopping for school supplies. More likely, it’s because I love the feel, smell and look of real paper. It’s the same reason I prefer bound books over e-books. A blank notebook is an invitation to leisurely record my thoughts and ideas. Much of my notebook writing is done in bed at night, then transcribed to the computer in the morning.