I love winter indoors. Outside, not so much. I’m not a fan of snow, bitter temperatures, ice, chilling rains, and many gray days in a row that constitute a Virginia winter. Even as a kid, I didn’t like winter sports. So, every January and February I escape Virginia and head to Britain. I read British
Once upon a time, I sold a million books. Most of my books landed on bestseller lists. Every Saturday was devoted to answering fan mail. Readers figured out where I lived and came to my house. What? you’re thinking. Not Candice Ransom, author of a lot of books, but who has hardly set the world
In late September of 2018, I stood at the corner of 37th and Madison Avenue in New York City and gazed longingly at the elegant pink marble building that housed J.P. Morgan’s library, now the Morgan Library and Museum. I’m willing it to be January 25, 2019, the opening of the Morgan’s exhibit: “Tolkien: Maker
In exercise class this week, various instructors asked us if we’d made resolutions, or had goals for the new year. At 66, I am over resolutions. How much of my life can I meaningfully change at this stage? It’s enough to keep moving forward and maintain goals made in the last few years. Watch my
I’m a huge fan of Jennifer L. Holm’s books. I’ve taught her Newbery Honor historical middle grade, Turtle in Paradise, in my writing classes. And The Fourteenth Goldfish will be a mentor text in my week-long middle grade writing intensive (next summer, Hollins University). I loved the idea of a scientist grandfather who finds the
This blog has been sadly neglected. Too much teaching, too much writing, too much—well, ignoring the blog! In the past, my blog has been a place for me to write photo essays. My monthly column at Bookology Magazine is home for my children’s literature essays. And I contribute articles on the writing process to Children’s Book
A recent blog post by children’s author and friend Claudia Mills titled “Can the Joy of Time Away from Home Inspire Joy upon Returning?” made me want to write about the same topic. Claudia and I both taught at Hollins University. Mornings, we walked the “campus loop.” Even talking ninety to the minute, we always
I came down with the flu. After weeks of dragging myself to the computer, I finally listened to the doctor and let myself be sick. One afternoon I pulled out my old journals. I haven’t kept a journal in the last few years, instead a planner dictates my days. My composition notebooks are a mishmash
Outside my window right now: bare trees, gray sky, a brown bird. No, let’s try again. Outside my window, the leafless sweetgum shows a condo of squirrels’ nests, a dark blue rim on the horizon indicates wind moving in, and a white-crowned sparrow scritches under the feeders. Better. Even in winter, especially in winter, we
Recently I attended a writer’s conference mainly to hear one speaker. His award-winning books remind me that the very best writing is found in children’s literature. When he delivered the keynote, I jotted down bits of his sparkling wisdom. At one point he said that we live in a broken world, but one that’s also
I bought my first antique postcard around 1980. Mama and I were junkin’ at Law’s Flea, a stockyard turned antique market every Sunday. A man was selling postcards. I flipped through a box and pulled out one showing a wild turkey sitting on a fence in the moonlight. It was the prettiest thing I’d ever
Once, when I discussed my work-in-progress middle-grade novel with my agent, I told her the character was eleven. “Make her twelve,” she said. “But eleven-year-olds aren’t the same as twelve-year-olds,” I protested. “Those are different ages.” “Make her twelve,” she insisted. “The editor will ask you to change it anyway.” I didn’t finish the book