From My Stacks - Kathleen V. Kudlinski

There's something special about these two books.  Perhaps it's the lyrical text by Kathleen V. Kudlinski or the beautiful illustrations by Lindy Burnett.  Perhaps it's the combination of both.  

When I read The Sunset Switch, I'm reminded of that wonderful time of day, when daytime ends and night begins.  Kudlinski's love of biology and science is so clearly evident in the lyrical way she puts daytime animals asleep and nudges nighttime animals to life.  It's a stunning text, written in second person.  The words are paired perfectly with Ms. Burnett's amazing illustrations.

When I read Seaside Switch, I'm reminded of that subtle time between high-tide and low-tide.  It's a beautifully crafted description of how the tide rolls in and out and a little boy's curiosity.  It's written with such scientific detail, but with such innocence.  It brings your senses alive. 

I think Ms. Kudlinski is a perfect mentor for young writers.  I've used this text to help learners write narrative nonfiction.  Writers should learn to write from different perspectives.  Writers should learn to write narrative nonfiction.  Writers should learn to write from their own experiences.  Writers should write in order to strengthen their understanding.  Writers should write with beauty.  Writers should write from their observations of the world.  If young writers read these two books, they can see how Ms. Kudlinski does exactly that... write what you know and do it with gracefulness and purpose.

Searching my stacks for great mentors makes me happy.  There's so much that these two texts have to offer... you should check them out if you haven't.  I hope there'll be another addition to this wonderful duet of beautiful texts.  They evoke clear sensory images. They are something special. 

Picking Up Three - From My Stacks

We're in our second week of taking a look at "Determining What's Most Important" as our thinking strategy of deep study.  As readers, we've been having the most interesting discussions.

I'm challenging learners to think about two guiding questions:

• How does purpose affect the ways I determine what's most important?
• What are the specific decisions I make as I determine what's most important?

Together, we're delving into our learning with these two questions as our guide. The beauty of posing questions like these is that the questions that readers are pondering personally are more intriguing, engaging, and purposeful than the two I proposed we study.  

Several readers are trying to think through how adding new words to their lexical system adds meaning to their reading and understanding.  Several readers are thinking through how their notebooks serve as a place to record their noticings about how determining importance affects their understanding.  Several students have been chatting about how knowledge of a specific author helps determining importance work more effectively.  Several readers are just grappling with the idea of stopping to ponder instead of barging through text (without disrupting meaning, of course).  It's been a grand two weeks. 

I've chosen the following three texts to use as "shared think alouds" as we continue on our journey.  Choosing texts that help define and redefine a strategy in the minds of young readers is one of my favorite parts of planning.

Flight of the Honey Bee by Raymond Huber

This book lends itself to determining what's most important for so many reasons.  The introduction alone leads to a grand discussion of how choosing just the right words can convey meaning with clarity.  I love the narrative interspersed with "bee" facts.  And, the "Save the Bees!" closing is perfect.  

I'll share part of this book with my students and then turn the text over to them so that they can devour it as individuals or in pairs.  I'm sure the room with hum with comments like "I think this is important, because..." or "This sentence carries a lot of weight, because..."  

Never Smile at a Monkey by Steve Jenkins

Who doesn't love to be scared out of their wits by things in nature?  The short pieces in this book are frightening, yet intriguing.  To determine what's most important, readers have to pay close attention to the details on each page and find the essence of each short snippet of text.  

I see coupling each page with the nonfiction pieces in the back of the book.  Great talking points for readers about what's important and why.  And, these short snippets serve as provocative mentor text for writers as well.  I see us talking in pairs about a specific animal in the text and chatting about "What's most important... and why... and how do you know?"  

Passing the Music Down by Sarah Sullivan

I love this book.  Listen to the first lines... "Come August, with corn strutting high in the fields and tomatoes plumping out on the vine folks get to talking about tuning up and heading over twisty mountain roads to hear fiddle players and banjo pickers make music under the stars." 

Because it's inspired by two musicians, the author's note will help lead our discussion through somewhat unknown music territory.  This text might lead to a conversation about how our schema is related to determining what's most important and how we sometimes have to build it at the same time we're applying a new strategy.

I love couching our thinking in both narrative and nonfiction text (and poetry) as we student determining what's most important.  If we truly believe that these thinking/comprehension behaviors are what wise readers do to make sense of text, we have to offer students a chance to think in a wide variety of text.  These three texts (and others) will be used during the crafting portion of of reader's workshop sometime in the next week or so... and I'll offer them to students to read during their composing (independent) time.  It's always my goal to give learners a flavor of what's possible and then let them have a go.  As my colleague says, "Just offer them a little hook and let them go swimming in the bigger pond with support."

So... until next month, here's your homework.  Choose three books from your stacks.  Think about these ideas as you read (this may sound familiar):

• How might this text fit into my current strategy study?  If it doesn't how else might I use it?
• If I were planning a study of determining what's most important what might I need to investigate further?
• Who might I run ideas by as I plan my next study?  Who will give me the energy to follow through?  
• What ten texts might I use with my students as readers, writers, mathematicians, or scientists that would build the essence of this "important" thinking strategy?
• What language might I use in my crafting that bests focuses the learners in my care on their own use of the strategy of study?

Picking Up Three - From My Stacks

I've decided to write one post each month to think through and share texts that I have in my stacks.  I have lots of "gems" and sometimes it's helpful to hunker down on the library floor to revisit and "re-vision" how I might use the great pieces of text I've collected.  Many texts are old favorites just waiting to be shared in a think aloud or shared together to nudge our conversations as readers.  Many texts are forgotten books that I discovered along the way, but never got around to using.  Many texts were added to my collection for a specific purpose, but never quite made it into a crafting lesson.  

One of the questions I'm often asked is "What text should I use to teach ____?"

Here's my answer... choose text that you love!  That's the easy part.  But sometimes that's just not enough.  As we plan a strategy study, no matter the thinking behavior we're delving into with our students, text choice is critical.  If we truly believe that "thinking strategies" can and should be applied across genre, across experiences, and across a study, we have to be wise in our decision making as teachers.  What texts lend themselves to the thinking that I'm hoping my young readers will store in their strategy wheelhouse?

If we want our young readers to infer, to synthesize, to activate their schema, etc. we have to be selective as we plan instruction... and then we build a classroom library rich in the kinds of text we're hoping our students will read!

- - - 

Here's my plan.  I've pulled three books out of my collection.  I'll give a brief synopsis of the text and then share one way we might use the text as readers during the crafting portion of reader's workshop; focusing on a specific thinking strategy (although each text lends itself to more than one strategy).  My hope is that you'll begin to search your own collections for that "just right" book to use as you craft* a strategy with your readers during reader's workshop.

My friend and colleague, Susan Logan, gave me When Everybody Wore a Hat by William Steig when she brought a group of visitors to my classroom a few years ago.  It is an autobiographical sketch of William Steig's childhood in which he invites us into his eight-year-old world... in 1916 when "everybody wore a hat."

Strategy Focus:  Drawing Inferences

When you read this text, you can't help but infer.  Readers infer when they create personal meaning from the text by gleaning insight and interpretations.  William Steig's simplicity in thought nudges us to "step into his life" as a young boy growing up in the 1900s.  His is a very unique point of view.  I might use this book as a shared text with my students.  Together, we might work together to draw conclusions and build our schema as we "think through" text together.  This might happen fairly early in a study when I'm nudging learners to speculate, think about questions that lead to an inference, or gather clues from the text.  Together, we might explore a portion of this book to gain insight into our own process of "coming to know" how wise readers infer.  Remember, inferring helps readers deepen their understanding beyond the text and lends itself to broad, personalized experiences.

I bought this book for two reasons:  Jean Craighead George and Wendell Minor.  I love when the two of them were able to collaborate.  The Buffalo Are Back is one of their collaborations; one example of their stunning work.  Together, they tell the story of the demise and return of the buffalo (including Theodore Roosevelt's role in the process) to the great plains.  The text is broken into short sections, each dealing with a specific aspect of the American Buffalo in the west.  I love Wendall's dedication, "To Jean, in celebration of her fifty years of writing wonderful books that teach children the wonders of nature." 

Strategy Focus:  Asking Questions

This text can be used encourage authentic questioning.  As readers, we spend time asking questions before, during, and after reading.  Because this text is full of such rich language, readers can generate questions at the word, sentence, and whole text level.  I might use short sections of this text throughout a study of "asking questions" and "lift" certain passages for students to grapple with independently (later in a study).  I might also use portions of it as a think aloud early on in a study of questioning.  This book ties well into a study of ecosystems or western history and is "question rich" text.  Remember, asking questions helps readers pose possibilities to stretch their own thinking as they develop and explore their wonderings as readers.

I admit it.  I bought this book on the bargain shelf at The Boulder Bookstore.  It just makes me laugh (Jennifer Larue Huget has also written herself into a great mentorship with students as writers).  This book explores the "what if" aspect of running away from home... and what child hasn't threatened that at least once in his or her childhood.  It's funny.  It's a book that nudges readers to contemplate, wonder about, and explore the benefits and consequences of "running away."  

Strategy Focus:  Activating, Utilizing, & Building Background Knowledge 

Wise readers have to learn to activate their schema - blending their background knowledge and background experiences.  I would use this book near the beginning of a study as either a think aloud or a shared experience.  As readers, knowing that differences in text structure affect our understanding, we often use our schema to make sense of text.  This text lends itself to the idea of activating schema before, during, and after reading.  Using schema nudges readers to pay attention to purpose and to acknowledge when their background is either helping or hindering their understanding.  I think using this book to nudge collaborative thinking during a crafting session would be perfect; I picture lots of "turn and talk" as we explore the text.  Remember, activating, utilizing, and building background knowledge and experience is more than "connecting" to the text; it's about using what you know to better understand what you don't know. 

• • •

So... until next month, here's your homework.  Choose three books from your stacks.  Think about these things as you read:

• Does this text fit into my current strategy study?  If not, what strategy might I use it with later?
• As I read this text, what thinking strategy to I find MYSELF using?  How am I being metacognitive?  How might I use it with students?
• Is this a book that I want to use for crafting or do I just want to "talk it up" and get it into the hands of children?
• As a reader, do I find this text compelling?  Is sharing it worthy of my time or my students's intellect? 
• How might this mentor author fit into another content... writing, mathematics, social studies, etc.?  

*Craft, to me, is the mini-lesson during reader's workshop.  That's the perspective I'm writing from as I share these texts. 

where i live - Eileen Spinelli

As I was preparing to transfer books from home to my classroom today, I ran across where i live by Eileen Spinelli.  I'd forgotten how much I adore this book.  It's a great book of poetry.

      In it, we learn about Diana and her life... with all its twists and turns.  It's classic Eileen Spinelli.  Her words tug at your heart and your mind as you explore the life of Diana... who uses her writing to explain her life and the changes she's going through.

     Simple.  Complex.  Sweet.  Sad.  Happy.  Real.  Eileen Spinelli weaves a wonderful tale of Diana, her best friend Rose, her mom, her dad, and Grandpa Joe.  When Diana learns she has to leave the things she loves, it tugs at your heartstrings. 

      Eileen's words, accompanied by Matt Phelan's wonderful drawings, it's a perfect book to share with young readers who might be experiencing a move... or even a family struggle.  Encouraging children to write for authentic purposes might be an added bonus in sharing this book. 

     My two favorite poems are "Music" and "New Resident."  Sweet and simple.  It's a delightful read.

      There's nothing like finding a hidden gem in your stacks that you can't wait to share with your students...

New Resident

A wren has made

her nest

in the willow wreath 

on our front door. 

Now the yellow house

is her home 

too.

Ice Bear - Nicola Davies

I've been rereading a bit of Nicola Davies lately.  There's something reenergizing to thumb through my stakes.  Among her books, I ran across a favorite of mine... Ice Bear: In the Steps of the Polar Bear.  
     I love her narrative... but what attracts me most to her writing is the way she interweaves bits of nonfiction, lines that float through the text.  I've been sitting down to contemplate a writing project lately and I'm using her as one of my mentors (along with Don Brown and Louise Borden).  
     One of the things we know as teachers of writers is how important it is to surround them with the types of writing we want them to explore... the types of writers who can become their mentors.  Of course, the more I work with young writers, the more I realize that often times they are the ones who have to match themselves to a mentor; they are the ultimate decision maker.  They find their own mentors.  Someone they respect.  Someone whose writing inspires them.  Someone who intrigues them.  Someone whose writing nudges them.
      And I've realized that I have an important job:  to expose them to writers, to help them discover great writers, to encourage them to "have a go" with interesting examples of text, and to demonstrate my own passion for writers and great writing.  Expose.  Discover.  Encourage.  Demonstrate.  That's just good teaching, right?  
     So Nicola Davies is one of my "go to" mentors and by sharing what I learn from her with my students, perhaps they will, in turn, find a "go to" writer that inspires them.  Consider this line...

"Its ears sit close to its head, 

neatly out of cutting winds, 

and its feet are furred for warmth and grip."

     What can a young writer learn?  What can I learn?  In 21 words I notice the power of three, the strength of noun modifiers, the effective use of "and" as a coordinating conjunction, the musicality of rhythmic words.  If I read Nicola Davies to my students (and myself)... once for the heart and once for the head, how can her words not engage them in the wonderful thing we call writing.  

     It's time to pull together a Nicola Davies basket... my students will love her.  IF I don't beat them to the basket first.

Simple Dreams

I haven't blogged since June.  June.  So, tonight I decided it was time to get back to All-en-A-Day's Work.  I hope you'll forgive my absence.  I hope that I will be nudged to get this and several other bits of writing done... sooner than later. 

And what do I start with?  Simple Dreams:  A Musical Memoir by Linda Ronstadt.  Two weeks ago as I was flying to and from Saskatoon, I read it (it's been on order since I heard she was writing it).

I've always been a Linda Ronstadt fan (or Ronda Lindstadt as my friend Christine O'Hanlon lovingly calls her).  When Susan and I got married I told her there were three people I wanted to see in concert:  Emmylou Harris, Dolly Parton, and Linda Ronstadt.  And, together, we've seen all three.  In fact, we saw Linda in Denver not long before she quit touring as a singer... forever.  For those of you who don't know, she's been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease and her singing career has been silenced.  Now it's through her recordings and her written word that we'll have to enjoy her voice.  

There's a wonderful section at the beginning of the book where she describes the "mud huaraches" they made so that they could run barefoot in the Arizona desert.  She writes, "We often went barefoot, but the ground in summer would become so hot that it could raise a blister.  The remedy for this was to wet our feet, then dip them in the dry, powdery clay dust, then a little wet mud, and then back into the dust again until we built up layers of earth to insulate us from the heat."  I used this section as a "think aloud" with my students as we began a study of how Wise Readers Ask Questions.  

As I've read her words, I've been pleasantly surprised by her writing.  As I've read her words, I've been pleasantly surprised by how much music as been a part of her life since birth.  As I've read her words, I've been pleasantly surprised by her candor and honesty regarding a career that has spanned decades and garnered many awards and nominations.  As I've read her words, I've been pleasantly surprised by her honesty.  She's smart.  She's talented.  She's gifted.

Perhaps my favorite passage in the book is in the epilogue.  She writes, "People ask me why my career consisted of such rampant eclecticism, and why I didn't simply stick to one type of music.  The answer is that when I admire something tremendously, it is difficult not to try to emulate it.  Some of the attempts were successful, others not.  The only rule I imposed on myself; consciously or unconsciously, was to not try singing something that I hadn't heard in the family living room before the age of ten.  If I hadn't heard it by then, I couldn't attempt it with even a shred of authenticity."

And she ends with the line, "At the time, struggling with so many different kinds of music seemed like a complicated fantasy, but from the vantage point of my sixty-seven years.  I see it was only a simple dream."

Like her music (I've heard it all), this last line knocked my socks off!  Simplicity... a shred of authenticity. 

I've been thinking about simple dreams of late.  I had one once... to teach.  It started in 1984 (after getting a degree in Communication Disorders).  I decided to teach.  I was probably listening to "Lush Life" while I did my homework.  It was a good dream at the time.  

But my dream has changed a bit.  Now with all the complexities and mandates and grand reformation and uncommonly good standards my dream is that I keep reminding myself of why I got into this career in the first place.  

Thanks, Ms. Ronstadt for reminding me to relish my career.  With all its ups and downs, gives and takes, mistakes and successes.  And, thank you, for reminding me of how important it is to "play in the desert mud" or "ride a horse with a friend" or "sing a song" or "stand up for your beliefs, your history, your voice."  Of how important it is to pursue learning with rigor and endurance.

I think it's time we all start thinking about all the children we know and have known; hoping that they too will have a chance to follow a "simple dream" in an overly complex world.

To Look at Any Thing...

Change

The summer

still hangs

heavy and sweet

with sunlight

as it did last year.

The autumn

still comes 

showering gold and crimson 

as it did last year.

The winter 

still stings

clean and cold and white

as it did last year.

The spring

still comes 

like a whisper in the dark night.

It is only I 

who have changed.

Charlotte Zolotow

 (c) 1978 To Look at Anything 

Lee Bennett Hopkins

This is my favorite poem from Lee Bennett Hopkins's book To Look at Any Thing.  Have you seen the book?  It's a collection of poetry centered around nature photographs by John Earl taken in Georgia.  Circa 1978.

There's something endearing when you find yourself thumbing through the pages of a book that was published 35 years ago.  The black and white photographs, coupled with poetry from some of our most extraordinary poets was a treat to reread.  To read Charlotte Zolotow's words in "Change," or Patricia Hubbell's words in "Beginning of Thoughts," or Lilian Moore's words in "Encounter," or Langston Hughes's words in "Hope."  This is a special book. 

I think it behooves us to look through our classroom and personal libraries and find "gems" we can share with our students.  

More importantly, it's important for us to reread great writing for ourselves.  To nudge our own writing.  To conjure up memories of the poets we love.  To think of ways to inspire others.  To remember that "new" is not always better.  To take a look at "any thing" and know that perhaps there's a poem hidden in even the simplest objects. 

Eudora Welty - A Mentor's Mentor

In the late 1980s, my friend and colleague, Laura Benson, recommended One Writer's Beginnings to us at a workshop.  I remember her sharing sections of it and I immediately went to The Bookies for a copy (at that time The Bookies was still in an old bungalow off 6th Avenue... crammed to the brim with books).  

I think it was one of the first hard cover "professional" books I ever purchased and it still has a special place on my bookshelf.  It's the narrative of Eudora's falling in love with language, writing, and story. It's broken into three sections "Listening," "Learning to See," and "Finding a Voice." Based on her lectures, it captures her story of becoming a writer... finding her voice after years of listening and observing those around her.

Imagine for a minute if we used those three section titles as a "curriculum guide"... if we, indeed, took all the complexities we face as teachers and filtered them through what a young girl from Mississippi deemed important as a learner.  As teachers of reading and writing, could we not couch our work in those three areas?  

What if our guiding questions became:

What are the ways my students are learning to listen?

What are the ways my students are learning to see?

What are the ways my students are developing a sense of their own voice?

How?  Why?  So what?

If we simply (or not so simply) helped our students (and ourselves) to "listen," wouldn't we already be one step ahead.  Listen to the rhythm of these words.  Listen to your fellow learners, what did you hear?  Listen as I share this part out loud with you, what do you notice?  Listen to your own understanding, what's floating in your mind right now?  There's something in this piece that I want to try in my own writing, did you hear it?  Listen again. Listen to the pattern of the words, the sentences, the text... what's beating in your heart?  Your mind?    Listening.

Now "See."  See what's around you (write it down).  See what he just did, do you suppose you might have a go with that?  See how that vowel pattern works, are you learning to recognize it?  See how this illustration matches the words the author uses.  Close your eyes for just a moment, what do you see?  When she shared her poem with you, what did you see?  When you share your writing with him, what did he tell you he saw?  Watch me, tell me what you see... now let me watch you and I'll tell you what I see.  Learning to See.

Find a Voice.  Did you hear the way you said that... it sounded just like _____ (insert your favorite author's name)?  You should write about that, it's an important story.  Your thinking is really important, you might recommend this book to someone you think might enjoy it.  You did create a sensory image, how did it help you?  If someone, right now, asked you what you were thinking, what might you tell them?  You know, not many people can capture a moment in time as beautifully as you just did... how will you share it with others?  Finding a voice. 

Listening.

Learning to See.

Finding a Voice.

Listen to Eudora's words as she describes an important discovery she made about books:

It has been startling and disappointing to me to find out 

that story books had been written by people, that books were not

natural wonders, coming up of themselves like grass.  Yet regardless

of where they came from, I cannot remember a time when I was not in 

love with them--with the books themselves, cover and binding and the paper

they were printed on, with their smell and their weight and with their possession

in my arms, captured and carried off to myself.  Still illiterate, I was ready for 

them, committed to all the reading I could give them.  (Welty, pp. 5-6)

That's exactly what I want my students to do, to commit themselves to understanding all that books can give them.  Not based on a number of books they plow through.  Not based on a "level" or a specific genre.  Not based on the number of minutes they read.  Not based on the questions they can answer after a read.  Not based on some mystical "core" description of what a reader is or is not.  Not based on a test.  I want the readers in my care to fall in love with the books themselves.  And perhaps if they listen and learn and see my passion for reading and writing, they will perhaps, in turn, find their own voices as readers and writers.

If you haven't read One Writer's Beginnings, you should.  If you haven't read one of Eudora Welty's works, you should.  If you haven't explored her descriptions of life in Mississippi, you should.  There's something grand about her language, her words, the tempo of her writing.  Her simple southern life gave her writing a complex and varied cadence.  And as you read Welty, you have to keep "Listening, Learning to See, and Finding a Voice" in mind.  Eudora Welty is a mentor's mentor.  

Also read A Darling Life:  A Biography of Eudora Welty by Carolyn J. Brown.  Ms. Brown has captured the life... in words and photographs (many of Welty's own)... of Eudora Welty for a new generation of learners.  This time for young readers and writers.  From her childhood in Jackson, Mississippi to political unrest to her declining years, Ms. Brown captures the journey of Miss Welty stunningly.  She lead a simple, albeit extraordinary, life.  Listen to these words from Miss Welty:

Lately, in my old age, it has seemed to me, when friends meet to hold

a public service to pay tribute to one of their number who has died, that 

without words to that effect ever being said, they are drawing a circle 

around that friend.  Speaking in turn one after the other, joining them 

together anew, they keep what they know of him intact.

Eurdora Welty, Introduction, The Norton Bok of Friendship  (Brown, p. 75) 

I'm thinking we all need to draw a circle around these two books for a bit of time... just to listen... to see... and perhaps find a bit of our voice, both as teachers and as readers and writers ourselves.  To keep Eudora Welty's contributions as a writer intact... read!

Michael Rosen's Sad Book

I just discovered Michael Rosen's Sad Book.  "This is me being sad," the opening lines read, "Maybe you think I'm happy in this picture.  Really I'm sad pretending I'm happy..."  Quentin Blake's illustration sits above the lines.

In Sad Book, Mr. Rosen describes how he hide his grief and began to deal with death.  He wrote the book after his son, Eddie, died of meningitis.  Anyone who has suffered a loss - a child - a parent - a pet... well, any loss, really, will understand the author's need to express his sadness in words.

I love the honesty of this book.  The way the illustrations by Quentin Blake parallel the story so poignantly.  The beauty of the language, "Sometimes I'm sad and I don't know why.  It's just a cloud that comes along and covers me up.  It's not because Eddie's gone.  It's not because my mum's gone.  It's just because."  The journey through heartbreak and heartache, though long and lonely, that leads to hope.  The remembering.  In all its sadness, Mr. Rosen's book is somehow comforting.

Michael Rosen's writing is a gift.  Sometimes silly.  Sometimes serious.  And, in the case of Michael Rosen's Sad Book, simply special. 

Note: This is another book published by our friends at Candlewick Press.

Every Living Thing - Revisited

As I write, I'm sitting in my backyard in the shade.  My Newfoundland Dog, Timber, is sitting at my feet trying to stay cool (which isn't easy for a huge black dog to do).  The mist from a sprayer is floating along the light breeze, giving us a cool burst periodically).  It's 95+ degrees in Denver today.  It's hot!  Escaping the heat means a good book is close by...

Today I'm rereading Every Living Thing by Cynthia Rylant.  My paperback copy in my classroom is dog-earred and well-loved.  It's one of my "go to" books.  I have a hard cover copy at home and I've been spending my reading time with it today.  I'm sure you know it, but it's a treasure trove of wisdom... worth a reread.

Who doesn't love the story of Leo in "Slower than the Rest."  Simply because it's one of Rylant's masterpieces.  As you read, your reading heart melts when Leo fills "fast" for the first time in his life... thanks to Charlie.  How many Leo's have you known in your classrooms... "slow in reading, slow in numbers, slower than nearly everything that passed before him in the classroom"?  Brilliant writing.

Who doesn't love Velma?  And Miss Cutcheon in "Retired"?  Simply because we love what we do, this calling of teaching and can't imagine not doing it.  As you read, you can't help but think of your own teaching life... perhaps impending retirement... change.  How many times have we heard the saying "Old habits are hard to break"...  "Each day Miss Cutcheon would creak out of her bed like a mummy rising from its tomb, then shuffle into the kitchen, straight for the coffee pot."  Brilliant writing.

Who doesn't love Emmuanuella in "A Pet"?  Simply because we've all longed for a childhood pet and perhaps had to watch it die.  As you read, you can't help but sigh when she finds Joshua waiting for her after school.  How many times have we had to say goodbye... "In the morning, Joshua was dead.  Emma found him floating on top of the water when she woke up.  When she lifted him out of the water in the net, it surprised her how heavy he was.  He was as large as her hand, and it surprised her because she had never held him."  Brilliant writing. 

Who doesn't feel kindred to Denny in "Safe"?  Simply because our fears often play a huge role in our lives; whether you're a child or an adult, fear is real.  As you read, you can't help but understand Denny's need for comfort.  How many times have we turned our hearts and minds to something or Someone to take away our fears... "The cows' eyes were all large and shining and very, very peaceful.  Denny stared at the eyes and he felt reassured.  He felt stronger.  He felt safe."  Brilliant writing. 

And so Every Living Thing goes.  There's something reassuring about sitting with an old friend in the heat of the day.  Reading words that you've read time and time again.  Knowing how the stories end, but forgetting how superbly they were written.  Of course, in the classroom it's all "What did you notice?" and "Why do you suppose?" but on a 95+ degree day, with a Newfoundland dog at your feet, it's really about revisiting, remembering, and rereading... brilliance.

The Lost Art of Mixing - A Must Read

She dragged a chair across the kitchen to the counter and clambered up, stabilizing herself with a hand on the cabinets.  She reached up for the first bulb in the string of recessed fixtures and gave it two quick, firm twists.  On the third turn, the heat from the bulb met her fingers and she jerked back, the bulb falling through her hands, cracking on the tile floor in loud, spectacular pieces.

     She looked down, shocked.  The house seem to shimmer in the aftermath of the noise.  The edges of the broken bulb winked up at her, bright and sparkling, seductive as diamonds.  Slowly, Louise smiled.

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Tom stood looking at the hunks of wood—a half-cord, easily, he figured, although the logs he had chopped in his teenage years had been clean, consistent lengths, redolent with the smells of alder and maple, their bright surfaces almost begging to be cut.  He remembered the joy of his growing muscles, the loft of the axe as it swung up in an endless arc and then came slamming down.  The complete and utter satisfaction of a smooth surface cleaving into air as the pieces went flying to either side of him.

     This was not going to be like that, he could tell, looking at the haphazard jumble of gnarled stumps and logs, half of it wet and rotting, the other portion hard and glistening and green.  This was wood that defied the axe, a living lesson that when it came to heat, sometimes it was better to use man’s other inventions—electricity, gas, propane.

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As a reader, who can't read these words from Erica Bauermeister’s novel The Lost Art of Mixing and not create an image that sucks you into the writing?

The Lost Art of Mixing is the sequel to The School of Essential Ingredients.  Both books were recommended to me by my friend, Mimi Brown.  Mimi is a literacy virtuoso who works in the Issaquah School District.  Whenever we chat on the telephone, it always includes a discussion of books (new titles, old titles, no matter).  

If you are a foodie, you will love both books (although there's less of a food focus in the sequel).  Erica Bauermeister is a character crackerjack.  When you read one of her books, you leave the last page knowing (sometimes becoming) one of the characters.  The prose-like nature of her words creates ripples of texture, emotion, and images that, as a reader, suck you into the story gracefully.  Her words mix the power of food, the power of love, the power of "being" with another person together in the most artful way. 

Not to sound cliche`, well okay, to sound cliche`... there's a deliciousness that permeates her writing.  Each chapter of this book focuses on a specific character's life... and as I read, I was drawn in to the smells, the tastes, the feelings of each character's being.  In this book, you read about the familiar characters you grew to love (or not love) from The School of Essential Ingredients and you grow to love (or not) new characters that she brings on board in her second book.

When I talk to my students about evoking, or creating, sensory images, we come to know the importance of being "drawn in" of "knowing" how those images help us understand, help us remember, help us extend meaning, or help us make our reading experiences memorable (see Conferring the Keystone of Reader's Workshop, page 25).  As Amanda noted in her reader's notebook during our study of sensory images this year, "I think that sensory images help me by comparing what I got a sense of to what really is... I can see something, taste something, hear something, feel something, or smell something.  It can connect my connections because it makes the details come alive!"

So, as a reader, I'm always on the search for text that helps me revisit and revision my own use of "thinking strategies."  If I'm helping my students come to rely on a strategy more explicitly as a tool, I too must learn how it helps me.  As an adult, the idea of "evoking sensory images" seems clearcut, something "we automatically do because we're proficient readers," but is it?  With each close read, with each nuance, with each "How the heck did she do that?" I think I become a little better at using and noticing this strategy as a reader, as a thinker.  My awareness of what's going on "inside" nudges me to better understand how to express my thoughts to those who sit "outside" my thinking processes.

It's the same with my students.  When we've experimenting enough with a strategy... as a whole group, during small groups, one-on-one, alone—we come to understand how the "behavior" of creating an image (or any other comprehension strategy) brings power and fortitude to our understanding.  We dig around a bit, figure things out, toss out ideas, play... and that can only be done in text that's meaningful to us as readers.

The Lost Art of Mixing is such a book for me.  You should give it a go as a reader.  In her Acknowledgments, the author writes:  Words need ears to hear them and eyes to read them long before they can every be considered a book.  Now that it's a book... oh such words!  Try focusing on the sensory images you're creating and how they are helping you understand Erica Bauermeister as a writer.  Ms. Bauermeister's writing style is powerful... joyous... intriguing.  Often she throws in a word, a sentence, a paragraph that makes me stop in my tracks.  I pause.  I consider.  I reflect.  Briefly.  Then, I move on as not to lose the image created for me as a reader.

Imagine you're Louise wandering in to this bookstore... The bookstore was small and elegant, its books carefully chosen to appeal to both the casual tourist and those who stayed through the long and stormy winters.  A mix of bright and subtle covers, rough-edged pages and slippery paperbacks.  A flurry of handwritten notes hung from the bottom of the shelves, offering recommendations and brief synopses, inviting hands to open the books above.

Now run to your independent bookseller (or library) and get The Lost Art of Mixing.  Then head to the beach (you'll know why I wrote this after you read it).

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I also wrote a blog about Joy for Beginners, another of her books.  Click on the title to the blog it!  Also recommended by Mimi!