Sunshine, the sequel to my first middle grade novel Blessen is coming soon from Border Press. I published Blessen in 2012 and began writing this sequel. I’m excited that her story with Sunshine, her new hen, and Harmony, a new friend, will finally be out in the world. Publication day is Oct. 15, 2019. The cover is a collage by Marcie Melancon, a New Iberia artist.
The Blurb:
Blessen LaFleur’s life is once again taking more twists and turns than the bayou she lives near. Blessen is growing up and taking on the responsibility of raising a hen, Sunshine, who is broody and bothered. In this sequel, Blessen meets Harmony who is homeless and missing her mother. Blessen’s caring nature leads her to save Harmony from the despair of a strange foster home by stealing her away on an adventure. Together they call themselves “the guardians of nature.” When an accident reveals Harmony to the grown-ups in Blessen’s life, they both learn of the strength of family and love.
You can read the first review at A Word’s Worth by Diane Moore.
If you are interested in reading a pdf copy and writing a blog review, please let me know in the comments.
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Nature and beauty is pretty. The trees, the wind, and everything you know. Beauty in the diamonds and when I look inside, I see the face I love.
Annie, 4 years old
I was asked to teach a writing workshop for kids at the Hilliard Museum’s Play Day. “You have to be flexible because we’re never really sure who will show up.”
Annie came in with her father. I’ve met Annie a few times because our paths have crossed. I’m friends with her grandmother, and her mother is a journalist who has connected me with writing opportunities. So when she walked in, I greeted her, “Hi Annie. We are writing poems today. Would you like to write a poem?”
She began… “Yes. Nature and beauty is nice because…” and she continued. “Wait,” I said pulling out a clean piece of paper and a pen. “I wasn’t ready. Now slow down, and I’ll write what you say.”
Me with “Princess” Annie posing for a picture to send to Nanna B.
She is already a poet. I didn’t read one of my poems. I didn’t talk to her about forms. I didn’t give her any suggestions. She already knows how to write a poem.
Then we made a zine, a small foldable from a single sheet of paper. “Now,” I explained. “I could write the words for you, and you can draw the pictures.”
“No, I can write the words.” And she could! She copied the words she had dictated to me into the book. This took her at least 30 minutes. I was amazed at her focus and her determination. I was also amazed at her father’s patience. He sat comfortably while she meticulously copied each word.
The gifted teacher in me noted signs of perfectionism. When she messed up a letter, she got upset and rubbed it as if to erase it. I said, “Don’t worry. You can just make that a picture.”
Her letter a with the too long tail became what looked to me like a bug. I asked her, “Is this a butterfly?”
“No, it’s Diamond. Daddy, does it look like Diamond?”
“Yes, it does,” Daddy promptly said.
I looked at him and whispered, “Who’s Diamond?”
“Her imaginary friend” His whispered reply.
Annie continued writing word for word. An i placed in the wrong place became a tree.
When she finished, I said, “You need to sign it ‘by Annie’.”
She asked, “On the back?”
I showed her my book, Bayou Song. “On my book, my name is on the front. It says ‘Poetry by Margaret Simon.'”
Of course, Annie wrote on the front “Poetry by Annie.”
She is the youngest poet I’ve ever met, yet I have no doubts she is a writer. Just like her mom.
This month I challenged my writing partners, the Sunday Night Swaggers, to write zeno poems. This fun form was created by J. Patrick Lewis and is based on a mathematical sequence of 8,4,2,1,4,2,1,4,2,1 with each 1 syllable line rhyming. This is one of my favorite forms to use with children. The syllable count is doable, and there’s the added challenge of rhyme.
Even though the temperature hasn’t changed (we have highs in the mid 90’s still.), the signs of fall are here: shorter days, browning cypress, and high sugarcane.
Sugarcane is taller than me. Tangled green stalks above rise reaching for fall’s azure skies field of beauty in my eyes.
Margaret Simon, draft
Autumn sounds like a sad songbird singing under grapevine shade where blossoms from springtime fade empty bird’s nest hidden grayed.
More Spiritual Journey posts are gathered at Karen Eastland’s blog. Click the image.
This month Karen chose Beauty as the theme for our Spiritual Journey posts. I was looking through a magazine and came across the word “Beautiful,” so I decided I needed to make a collage. I love making collages, but don’t do it often. When other things get in the way, we tend to put aside the little creative things that make us happy. You feel guilty spending time on a frivolous pleasure. But it’s that very pleasure that keeps us creative and happy.
Beauty is… giggles from a grandson roses in bloom hot-air balloon on a summer morning kitten running sideways glass of red moss swaying in the breeze egret flying over the sugarcane field chocolate, dark with mint a cuppa latte with a petal in the froth these words, I love you.
Kelo is gone. I can’t wrap my head around that fact. With her long weaves, gentle hazel eyes, and golden front teeth, Kelo danced with a mop and sang while she worked. She would greet you in the hallway with a genuine kindness that made you want to stop and talk.
“How’s that grand baby?” she’d ask me often because she knew I had a new grandson.
Kelo was so much more than a custodian at our school. Last year when I first started coming to the school to teach gifted, she knew my name well before I knew hers. She was pregnant with her 4th son, and my daughter was having her first, so we always had things to talk about. She’d encourage me with, “Girl, that baby’s coming soon!” We’d share photos and anecdotes. She was a friend.
I don’t understand how one day you’re here and the next, you’re gone. So much can change in an instant. Taken too soon by an innocent ATV accident, Kelo’s death has left a hollowness in the halls. My heart is heavy.
Kelo makes me want to be better about caring for others, to show genuine kindness as she did, and to sing like no one is listening, except Kelo from above.
Waiting for the Harvest, by Mickey Delcambre. First place in the Sugarcane Festival Photography Contest
Ralph Fletcher’s new book, Focus Lessons, is coming out, so I took advantage of Heinemann’s offer to read a sample.
There are strong links between photography and writing. This is true in substance and process, as well as language. The world of photography provides a visual, concrete language (angle, focus, point of view, close-up, panorama) that is enormously helpful in teaching writing.
Ralph Fletcher, Focus Lessons
When I saw Mickey Delcambre’s photo on my Facebook page, I was compelled to write a haiku.
Equinox harvest– Slow down days, long resting nights Autumn changes time.
Margaret Simon, draft, 2019
On Monday, I talked with my students about the Fall Equinox. I was surprised how well they know the solstices, but they were less familiar with the meaning of equinox.
In New Iberia this weekend, there is the annual Sugarcane Festival, celebrated on the last weekend of September as harvesting begins. We only have to look out of the window to see the tall cane waving in the fields.
One of the Craft Lessons included in the book sample focuses on Mood. Ralph explains how mood can be expressed in a photograph as well as in writing. I look forward to finding more crossovers between photography and writing Ralph says, “Photography is writing with light.”
I put Mickey’s photograph up and ask my students to do a quick write about it. Our quickwrites are typically 5 minutes. Then we share. Sometimes (it’s always a choice), a quickwrite will become a poem.
Seeing the Days Change
I see the days changing around me, going from day to night and night to day the marks of tires only from the day before seeing the sun go down getting ready for the night, goodnight sun.
Breighlynn, 4th grade
Sugar
Sugar in the fields, still as a cane. Growing, oh so tall, ready for the harvest. Burning leaves make the sweet smelling smoke.
Can you smell the sugar? Smelling, oh so sweet. Have you ever eaten the cane? As pure as sugar comes.
A.J., 6th grade
This morning on my morning walk I smelled the sweet air that A. J. wrote about. One of the gifts of fall.
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She appeared like a tiny white handkerchief waving in the breeze, barely noticeable on the windowsill of my husband’s office, mewing with every strength she had.
Over the course of a week at the end of August, one of the hottest weeks ever, my husband fed her, getting closer and closer, but she always darted back to safety under the steps at the house next door.
Jeff enlisted my help. “Do you want to try to catch her?”
When I was able to get close enough to take a picture, I could see how beautiful she was, with bright blue eyes and a white coat. Three colors hinted that she may be a female kitten. I called her, “Sweet Kitty! Come here, sweet kitty!” She’d respond with a mew, but she wouldn’t venture out far enough for me to grab her. And I was soaked in sweat and covered in mosquito bites. I tried for three evenings.
Peeking out from her home under the steps, no older than 4 weeks.
Finally, we bought a little can of Fancy Feast. She couldn’t resist it, and I was able to grab her. We brought her home and set her up in the “Cat Camp” on our back porch. Named her Fancy, of course.
At her first visit to our trusted vet, Dr. Eric, she was too young for shots. We treated her for worms and fleas and were to take her back in a week for shots.
Unfortunately on her visit the next week, she had a hypoglycemic episode. They revived her with fluids, and gave us instructions to feed her every four hours. Things began to go wrong after that.
At home for another two days, she was eating, but she developed a terrible case of diarrhea. Back to Dr. Eric. He was cautiously optimistic and diagnosed her with colitis. They kept her for two nights treating her with antibiotics, feeding, and fluids. Dr. Eric rejoiced when she went from one pound to 1.4 lbs. He took a special interest in our pretty kitty.
This weekend we enjoyed a new kitty, one who jumped and played and ate and ate. She is getting better. Hallelujah!
I live on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. I love teaching, poetry, my dog Charlie, my three daughters, and dancing with my husband. This space is where I capture my thoughts, share my insights, and make connections with the world. Welcome! Walk in kindness.
