​Okay, I admit it took a while before I felt ready to write this.  As some of you may know, I have spent June jetting back and forth between conferences in Orlando, Florida.  I love Orlando—especially the Disney parks, where my kids literally grew up because I did so much business with Disney back in the day.  For almost all of my life, and definitely all of theirs, Orlando meant time spent flying off to Neverland, careening off Splash Mountain, riding in the dark in Space Mountain, driving with a ghost host through a Haunted Mansion, and not being able to get that darn It’s a Small World song out of my brain.
 
But that all changed June 12 when 49 people were killed doing what I had always done in Orlando—having fun.   I cannot describe to you the pall of sadness I felt when I woke up that next morning.  I had spent June 11 teaching an all-day seminar on writing chapter books with one of my dearest friends, and we were rewarding ourselves on the 12th with a trip to the Magic Kingdom.  And although we went on rides and tried to stay upbeat, the surreal experience of being on a boat with the Pirates of the Caribbean, only to check our phones when we got off, searching for news of any kind, was simply the strangest juxtaposition I have ever experienced.  What a strange juxtaposition—people had just been killed for living their lives, for loving who they chose to love, and here we were going on rides.  Survivors guilt—most definitely.
 
What a world.  That’s the thought that went through my head all day.  And still does.  What kind of world are we leaving our children?  What will future generations say about people who let such hatred fester and then hand out guns like candy?  What are the scars that are being left on our children’s souls as they wake up every day to news of another shooting or bombing?  I know that old hippie spirit is still alive in me because I just want to protect the children of the world from all that is evil out there.  (Okay, cue the tape: “I’d hammer out danger, I’d hammer out a warning.  I’d hammer out love between my brothers and my sisters. All over this land.”)
 
But it was my second trip to Orlando, this past weekend, that actually gave me hope.  Signing at the ALA convention with my co-author--my daughter-- I met so many people who wanted to give the next generation something more than what is out there today.  Librarians are heroes.  Yes heroes.  And you know why? Because they are on the front lines opening children’s minds to possibilities of a better world.  They are providing kids with books that will introduce them to other cultures, so that they do not seem so scary. They are providing kids with books that say it is okay to be who you are—and love who you want to love.  They are providing kids with alternatives.  Best of all, they are providing kids with a chance to get away from the troubles of the real world even if it’s just for a few hours spent under a tree or under the covers, reading.
 
I cannot tell you how proud I was to sign books for librarians—especially because I was signing with my own kid.  It was amazing to welcome Amanda into the writing world and to see her interacting with kids who are now reading our books.  My kid is a kid magnet.   

When I write with Amanda, she is constantly reminding me not to make the bullies too mean or to allow the characters to use words like stupid or fat because she fears the behavior will be copied.  Amanda and I are creating our own world in our Project Droid books—and it is a world that is safe, funny, a little predictable, and most definitely wacky. Kind of like us. Amanda, like the librarians we met at the ALA convention, gives me hope that the next generation may just be ready to stop the hatred and anger, despite what we’ve heard certain politicians spew from their podiums in recent months. 
 
Rest assured, I will go back to Orlando.  I will go to the parks.  I will laugh again. We all will.  We all have to.
 
But we will never forget.

I know summer doesn't officially start until June 21, but here in NYC, where it's closing in on 90 degrees and everyone is in tank tops and shorts, it's pretty much a given that the season has begun.  I don't need to feel the heat to know that summer's on its way.  I can tell by the number of summer reading lists featuring Katie Kazoo Switcheroo George Brown Class Clown and Magic Bone books on them.  I am so glad that teachers and librarians are suggesting my books for summer reading because to me summer is for fun.  My hope is that the books I write are just that--fun to read!  I write for kids because I want them to love reading every bit as much as I do. And I want them to laugh and smile and then read some more.

Speaking of fun, tonight my husband and I are heading over to Madison Square Garden for a night of music with the genius piano man, Billy Joel.  Anyone who knows us is painfully aware that we spend a lot of time (and money) going to rock concerts.  We just love the vibe at a concert--the dancing, the screaming, and the singing along with 20,000 other fans.  (The music my husband composes is mostly classical, but he can still rock with the best of them.  His new album comes out later this year and I will let you all know when it's available for download and purchase, I promise!) And I'll probably buy a concert t-shirt, because well...why not?

Whatever you all are doing this Memorial Day weekend, take a moment to remember those who paid the ultimate sacrifice so that we can all dance to our own beat, and read any book that make us smile. Censorship is anti-American!  In the end, that's really what this weekend is all about.

And don't forget the sunscreen. 
xoxo
Nancy

I've been keeping a secret for a very long time! But now I am soooo excited to announce that I am writing a new chapter book series, Project Droid for Sky Pony Press. For the first time I'm working with a co-author, Amanda Burwasser.. If you've checked out my site, you know Amanda isn't just my co-author, she's my daughter.  She's also an amazingly funny author with a degree in creative writing from Pratt Institute.

Amanda lives in California, and I live in NYC, so this process has been filled with timing issues (I find myself skyping with her pretty late NYC time) because we write every single word together.  So we spend many, many hours arguing, laughing, and creating together.  Co-writing is a new experience for me.  Being a peer of my daughter's (at least professionally) is new too.  But I'm finding great joy in both.  

Our series, PROJECT DROID, will be in stores September 6, 2016.  Till, then, these cover pix will have to satisfy your curiosity.

xo 
N
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Sometimes wonderful surprises come in the mail. Today was one of those days.  A week or so ago it was announced that a never before published short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald would be appearing the The Strand, a well-known literary magazine.  To say that Fitzgerald is my favorite author is kind of like saying the Freedom Tower is a tall building.  Or that the ocean is pretty deep.  Talk about an understatement.  Fitzgerald, to me, is the gold standard.  He came to represent an era--the 1920s Jazz Age (a term he coined btw), but more than that, he came to represent what kind of magic can occur when a true genius puts pen to paper.  The word genius is thrown around way too often these days, but in F. Scott's case it's apropos.  No one I've ever come across can form a story like he can or make made cap comedy seem so real life.  So you can imagine my excitement today when my copy of the magazine appeared in my mailbox. No way I was reading this online.  I wanted to experience it the way Fitz would have wanted--in a magazine.  On paper. And I wasn't disappointed.  Written towards the end of his life, when he felt un appreciated and was ill, this story has a tinge of sadness in it, but there's laughter, and twists and turns.  If you can get your hands on it, read it.  
     I make it my business to read something by Fitzgerald at least once a month, if only to remind myself what writing is supposed to be like.  It's kind of an obsession of mine--to the point where my kids say he's like my dead husband. (He was actually Zelda's husband til the end!) And then there's the embarrassing photo of me with his gravestone, which I probably shouldn't share here, but what the heck? Some gals search out where Jim Morrison is buried, but for me, Fitz is the ultimate literary rock star.  Have a great rest of the summer.  And if you're so inclined, reread the Great Gatsby...
xo
N