Archive for Shaken

Celebrating Local Star for USA Women’s Soccer, Bethlehem’s Own Claire Hutton

This was cool news from the other day:

I don’t know Claire Hutton, a standout local soccer player, but I’ve long been aware of her ability on the field. I heard she was special. A kid to root for, a good family. I know some coaches and people involved in the sport, and they all have nothing but praise for her attitude, dedication, talent, kindness. A great kid. I heard that over and over. 

I think every town, sooner or later, has some young athlete who breaks through. The shortstop who gets drafted in the 11th round by the Washington Nationals, the kid who is skating in the Olympics, a running back who signs with a D-1 powerhouse. 

For me, here in Delmar, NY, one of those kids was Claire Hutton. She went to the same schools as my three children. 

I met Claire briefly, just once. I was walking my dog near Bethlehem high school early one morning. It must have been a weekend or the summer; no one else was around, not even on the nearby tennis courts. I spied a young woman — she must have been 16 — setting out orange cones near the track. She looked strong-legged. I guessed that it might be Claire Hutton and, curious, I wandered over to say hello. We chatted for a bit. Claire was articulate and friendly, comfortable talking, happy to take a short break, and she liked my dog. Claire told me how she was going to play on the Boys Team that coming season (I later got to watch her play). She explained her drills after I asked what in the world was she doing. I shared with her how my very athletic daughter, Maggie, about five years older, suffered from three ACL surgeries and had to give up soccer (and basketball!) after 7th grade. She had already made JV soccer that season. Claire understood what that loss might feel like. I wished her luck and good health, told her I was rooting for her, and went on my way.

A couple of years later, when I wrote a book called Shaken about a 7th-grade athlete who suffers from a severe concussion, derailing her soccer activities, I was largely inspired by Maggie’s experience. Loving something and having it taken away. Kurt Vonnegut’s notion of making awful things happen to your characters in order to reveal what they are made of. And I thought about Claire, too. Or more accurately, I imagined what someone like Claire would think. The drive and the talent and the huge ambition. That’s the writer’s job, after all. We make things up out of life’s raw material. I wanted my character to be like that. 

So I guess I put a little of Claire — the imaginary Claire — into the main character of my book, Kristy Barrett. But to be fully transparent, I don’t know anything about Claire and I doubt she would remember me. I know “of” her. I was just a benign dad type with a cool black-and-white rescue dog named Echo. We were alone on the edge of a football field, beside the track. And she was with her orange cones and workout gear, inching toward her big dreams. 

Today it is so gratifying to see Claire, off in the distance, realizing those same dreams. Scoring a goal for USA soccer! And crazy as this sounds, it’s not the least bit surprising.

Great kid, I thought.

I used that inspiration for the first few pages of Shaken, introducing the character of Kristy Barrett.

 

Kristy alone on a soccer field. The sun barely up above the trees. The turf damp from yesterday’s rain. It was cold. She went through her warm-up routine. 

High knees, side shuffles, Frankensteins, butt kicks, hip flexors, etc. No ball. Not yet. Fitness first, always. 

Today was a game day; she wouldn’t overdo it.

Kristy walked off the paces, set out small orange cones in different configurations. Soccer was a game of changing speeds, spurts, sharp cuts, quick accelerations, and periods of rest. This morning’s plan was designed to replicate a game situation. If it does not challenge you, it doesn’t change you. Kristy heard her mother say those words so many times she now thought of it as her own original idea. She jogged the shape once, then began working in a pattern of slow jogs and sprints. At the end of the first set, Kristy waited, winded, shook out her legs, counted to thirty. She began a second set. And so on. Fitness wasn’t the fun part of soccer. But it helped win games. It made her a better player. And, at thirteen, Kristy was determined to become the best in the state.

<snip>

This was her happy place. No matter what else was going on in the world, Kristy found peace and pleasure alone on the field. Even during a game, surrounded by teammates, crowded by opponents — pushed, knocked down, high-fived and cheered — Kristy felt gloriously alone. Bubbled, sheltered, secure. 

Here’s a quick one-minute interview with Claire.

But be warned: if you watch it, you’ll be rooting for her, too. It’s an affliction!

Addendum: Maybe Claire will see this someday. If she does, I hope she doesn’t mind that, in a circuitous way, I put something of her in a book. Or that I wrote this post.

A great kid, yeah. And an inspiring one, too.

 

SHAKEN was listed by Bank Street Center of Children’s Literature as one of the “Best Children’s Books for 2025.” Ages 10-up.

 

 

SHAKEN Named to Bank Street’s List of “Best Children’s Books for 2025!”

 

I’m heartened to share that my middle-grade novel, Shaken (ages 10-14) has been named one of the the Best Children’s Books for 2025 (of books published in 2024) by the Bank Street Center for Children’s Literature! It’s a nice honor. Thank you to my publisher Jean Feiwel, who has been there since forever, including my first book in 1986; and my talented editor of almost 20 years, Liz Szabla. And also, of course, thanks to the good folks at Bank Street Center for Children’s Literature.
A number of people generously helped me during the research for this book: Dr. Todd P. Giombetti; Jessica Van Wormer, licensed clinical social worker, certified school social worker; Christoffel Janse Van Rensburg, licensed clinical social worker; Piera McGaughan, girls junior varsity soccer coach, Bethlehem High School, New York; Tracy Gilbert, board certified art therapist, licensed mental health counselor; Maria Lupo, doctor of medical and health humanities, board certified art psychotherapist. 
And for personal insights and shared experiences, for your time and thoughtfulness and generosity of spirit: Jennifer Healey, Olivia Healey, Mark Lane, Amelia Shaw, Erin LaDue, and Erin Svare. 
Special shout out to these books and authors: Under Pressure: Confronting the Epidemic of Stress and Anxiety in Girls by Lisa Damour, PhD; Healing Days: A Guide for Kids Who Have Experienced Trauma by Susan Farber Straus, illustrated by Maria Bogade; and The Art Therapy Sourcebook by Cathy A. Malchiodi. 
For the complete list of Bank Street-approved books,  gleefully stomp here: https://educate.bankstreet.edu/cbc_awards/27/
@Bank Street Center for Children’s Literature @Bank Street Library

COVER REVEAL: You’ll Love the Paperback Version of “SHAKEN”

I am asked about book covers from time to time. People are generally curious about the author’s “say” in a cover. 

The answer varies from author to author, publisher to publisher. 

But first, this:

Making a cover is an art. An imprecise creative act. And in talking about these experiences honestly, I don’t mean to disparage anyone’s work. Everybody goes into it wanting to make a great cover. Or, if not great, at least a cover that fits the book. A cover that works.

If you are a big name author — someone who generates significant sales — you’ll will have clout in all regards. You’ll have, at the very least, serious input and veto power over any cover. The publisher wants you to be happy. They want to keep you in the fold.

However, if the author does not occupy that rare air (read: most of us), the publisher will have final word on the cover, which they take very seriously. They hold meetings. Explore options. Discuss covers with sales. Analyze marketing histories and receive input from booksellers. Some publishers even test covers and titles with focus groups. It’s a dificult, challenging, artistic in-house process. And usually after all that happens, after decisions have discussed and agonized over and finally made, that’s when the author will be brought into the process. Often that simply means: “This is the cover, hope you like it.”

After all, this is their business, their investment, their expertise. They want to sell the book (almost) as much as you do. 

I once read someone’s take on this — sorry, I forget who — which I’ve pretty much adopted: The cover is the publisher’s domain. Everything between the covers is the author’s. 

Since I’ve been directly involved in children’s publishing for 40 years, I’ve found it disappointing to be kept out of that creative process. I’ve seen some of my books get beautiful, effective covers. And others that I instantly knew had badly missed the mark. Covers that made little sense or were, in a word, unappealing. It’s a sinking feeling when I look at a cover that I know doesn’t work, because it typically spells doom for sales.

It happens. 

On a more subtle level, I believe that a cover signals to booksellers and reviewers (not just consumers) how a publisher views that particular title. Or where a book fits in the pecking order. There are budgets to consider, projected profit-and-loss statements to balance. A cover also, obviously, provides clues about what kind of story awaits inside. Sometimes for marketing purposes these clues are vague and even intentionally misleading. Sometimes we look at a cover and can’t wait to start reading. 

As a freelancer, I have another rule: Try not to be too very much of a pain in the neck. Nobody wants to hire the difficult writer. Life is full enough of headaches without actually paying for them. Moreover, my default is to genuinely honor and respect the different people involved, who are all doing their best. It’s a team effort and sometimes you’ve just got to step away and let those folks do their jobs. 

Which is to say: 

I love the new paperback cover to Shaken. It won’t be out until 2026, so you’ll need to wait, but for me this is a cover that I truly like. And that’s not always the case.

=

 

“SHAKEN” Selected to the 2025 Kansas NEA Reading Circle List

It was one of those happy times when my editor, Liz Szabla, sends me an email that begins, “I am excited to tell you . . . .”

These days, or maybe since time immemorial, authors usually receive emails that begin with the words “unfortunately” or “sadly” or “regrettably.”

Then the message gets worse after that. 

But not so on this fine, sunny morning!

My middle-grade novel, Shaken, still less than half a year old, was selected to be on the 2025 Kansas NEA Reading Circle List. 

And no, I’m not exactly sure what any of that means. But I do know that these state lists are important for raising the profile of a book, and for getting those books into the hands of teachers and students.

Doing some quick research, I learned this: Since 1926, KNEA has published a list of recommended books by reading level as a service for school librarians and classroom teachers. 

MANY THANKS, KIND FOLKS IN KANSAS!

I’D LOVE TO VISIT YOUR SCHOOLS NEXT YEAR, GIVE ME A JINGLE!

 

On Writing: Body Language & Character

I want to talk about writing today. Let’s begin by looking at this famous image of John F. Kennedy, which I came across & posted yesterday in connection with a quote:

As writers, we need to try to see people and convey that in words. I’m not great at this by any means. It requires effort, a struggle, as it doesn’t often come naturally in my writing. But as writers, we must try to notice things, mannerisms, telling details. Why? To help the reader see. And also: as a way into character. 

Look around: People are everywhere. Ask yourself, how would I describe that posture? The woman in the coffee shop. The kid on the slide. How do it quickly, efficiently, in a sentence or two?

Back to the Kennedy image. It could be, simply:

He stands with arms crossed, neck bent, head down.

Or a little more:

He stands with arms criss-crossed, neck bent, head down. He is reflective, feeling deeply. 

Yuck, okay, the voice feels wrong — I might be trying to avoid the “lost in thought” cliche — or, say:

Arlo stands with arms criss-crossed, neck bent, head down. This is the Arlo I love. When he is quiet and reflective. I long to know what is in his heart. 

Or that last bit in the 3rd person: 

Esme longs to know what is in his heart.

Or inject more story into it:

Arlo stands with arms criss-crossed, neck bent, head down. This is classic Arlo. A performance. He is such a fraud. I can’t wait to hear what utter bullshit he’ll say next.

Or, okay:

He tucks his hands beneath his crossed arms, stands quietly, head down, considering. 

***

And on and on and on, endlessly. There are a million options, a million ways to get at it. Or to paint it, if you will. 

Try to do that today. Watch people closely. Notice how they hold themselves. At first, try to strictly describe only what you see: the ankles crossed, the fingers touching a necklace, the mouth a thin line of disapproval, etc. 

The truly amazing thing is how entire characters, entire world views, can grow out of this simple practice. The posture is a seed that flowers into a fully-formed, “living” character.

For example, say, this: 

The way Anna fidgets with the bracelet on her thin, right wrist. The bracelet was her mother’s, a gift before the cancer took her away. It was a year ago but feels like yesterday. Anna reaches for it when she feels nervous, or insecure, or just bored and lonely. A habit of the heart. It seems to help. She remembers the love that is gone and, almost magically, the love that persists.

I just made that up. Beginning with an image of a physical act.

Now it’s your turn. 

Go deeper, if you wish. But mostly, as an exercise, try to describe what you see. A sentence or two. The crossed ankles. The twirling of the hair. The setting of the shoulders. The forward-leaning walk, arms swinging. It all begins & ends with the seeing. 

Don’t miss my newest middle-grade novel, Shaken. Now also available on Audible, read by Caitlyn Davis.