“Waiting for me to open my ears, and look up”

November 7, 2026 / / No comments

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I am a huge fan of Ethan Tapper. His debut book, How to Love a Forest, was a treasure; and I eagerly waited for the publication of his follow up, The Forest Year. 

There’s something about the language of nature writing that hits for me. Lyrical and closely observed, a curious blend of poetry and scientific fact.

This morning I read a passage that, in some ways, I could have written, since I’ve had the exact some thought. And I think we’re not alone, Ethan and I, in our slow realization of the (depth of the) world around us. The pandemic served to awaken many of us to walks in the woods, the wonder of birds.

I’ll type in the passage and leave a closing thought: 

As the light fades, I will picture the chimney swifts feeding their chicks and settling into their roosts, clinging like bats to the red brick, and I will realize that for my whole life, as I have lived in and visited this town, the chimney swifts were here. For my whole life I have been seeing and hearing chimney swifts, and also neither seeing nor hearing them. For my whole life they have been here, waiting for me to open my ears, and to look up.

And reading this, I nod my head, exactly. 

I tried to capture this feeling with the character Grace in Blood Mountain, and also in the third book in my Survival Code series, tentatively titled White Water (Penguin, 2028). In that one, Jalen experiences a similar awakening. I write about it, I guess, because I personally feel it in a big way (and in a way, I can further speculate, that perhaps AI cannot). 

As a kid, my father took care of the bird feeder and had one of those Peterson Guides by the back window. I paid no mind: just birds, just trees. 

As I’ve grown, I’ve opened my eyes, shamefully late to the game. And my life is all the richer for it. Learning the names of things, the stories in the natural world. I’m 65 years old and I might as well be Rip Van Winkle, awakening from a long slumber, with so much more to learn. 

In Blood Mountain, I had a character, a ranger, singing “Amazing Grace” to herself as she worked the trails, searching for the lost hikers.

“I once was lost, but now I’m found.

Was blind, but now I see.” 

 

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These are the first two covers for my Survival Code series, coming in May of 2027. I handed in the third — still waiting for the editorial response — and I’m starting on the fourth one in a few weeks. Ages 8-12.

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Category: Musings, Readings, The Survival Code / Tags: , , , , ,

Gary Provost on Sentence Length: “This sentence has five words.”

November 5, 2026 / / No comments

 

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Hey, hey! What? Sorry, can’t talk! I’ve to run, things to do! But while I’ve got you, let me leave you with this. 

Here’s a famous bit by Gary Provost on varying sentence length. He does such a nice job with this, expertly making a point while demonstrating it at the same time. Brilliant. 

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Category: the writing process / Tags: , , ,

The Writing Process Explained

November 3, 2026 / / One comment

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This weekend, I’ll be involved in a panel discussion at the Rochester Children and Teens Book Festival. We’ll be answering questions about, I gather, how the sausage is made. 

I don’t know the extent that they still teach it this way anymore, but there was a time when the “Writing Process” was explained as a five-step linear sequence: 1) Prewriting; 2) Drafting; 3) Revising; 4) Editing; and 5) Publishing. 

Surely that’s well-intentioned and generally kind of correct. That is, when you cut up the cadaver. But when you are in it? Actually writing? I find it all a little unrecognizable, like a kid I went to school with but can’t remember his name. Familiar but . . . not. 

Over the years, I’ve meant to put together a “real” writing process guide. It would include Dithering and Self-Loathing. And the shape would be circular, not the tidy straight line the school-taught process implies. As writers, we are constantly circling back. 

At least, that’s my way. The fact is that we’ve all got to find our own path. There’s no single way. No right and no wrong. 

For me, Thinking is the biggest part of it. All that heavy lifting that happens away from the page. Days and weeks and months of thinking, daydreaming. Mental doodles. I’ll have productive weeks where I don’t write a word. It took me a long time to learn that lesson, and it involved beating myself up repeatedly for years. After all, I had nothing to show for it. But I’ve slowly learned that’s my way. That’s how it works . . . for me. 

I’m posting today, primarily, to share this 4-page sequence from an upcoming book: Bigfoot and Dodo: Funny Business (Simon & Schuster, May 2027). This is a young graphic novel (112 pages) co-authored with the hilarious Audrey Vernick and illustrated by Joelle Dreidemy. In the story, Bigfoot and Dodo are hired by a famous writer who believes his house is haunted. It is disturbing his ability to write and, ack, he’s got a deadline. Our heroes are on the case! While Bigfoot is up in the attic experiencing adventures of her own, Dodo and the Famous Author, Mr. Peabert, have this discussion about his creative process:

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NOTE: These pages are not final, though the finished book will surely look very much like this (two-color printing). 

Audrey and I are very fond of this sequence. To us, it feels spookily, eerily, uncomfortably true.

Good luck, fellow writers. It’s a nutty process and the only way out is through. 

In the past, when I’ve taught writing for Gotham Writers, I found myself saying, “The mountain will teach you.”

That is, I compared it to skiing. Yes, you can take lessons with an “expert” on the bunny slope. Learn how to stop. Learn how to slow down. Learn how to get up after you fall. But eventually, you’ve got to get on that ski lift and ride to the top of the mountain. How do you really learn how to ski? The mountain will teach you. No one can do it for you. Whoosh. You are on your own. 

Break a leg!

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Category: Bigfoot & Dodo, In the Classroom, the writing process / Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Coming November 7th: The Rochester Children and Teens Book Festival

November 2, 2026 / / 2 comments

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It’s going to be the last book festival of 2026 for me, and while I don’t like to play favorites, The Rochester Children’s Book Festival gives me the most time to meet & interact with my fellow creatives. At breakfast, over dinner, while wandering the festival itself, and back at the hotel bar for sarsaparillas. Some of us have been attending for 10+ years and have become old friends; others will be brand new. The festival itself has a long tradition. Every year, the community strongly comes out in support of young people and the arts. I appreciate it all, grateful to still get invited, thankful to the many good folks who dedicate so much time & effort to pull off a great big beast like a book festival. 

There are also books and authors appropriate for teens, too. If you are busy, just throw ’em the keys to the car and hand over your credit card. What can go wrong?

On second thought, maybe it’s best to go as a family!

Category: Current Events / Tags:

Author Photo: What Dogs Don’t Know

October 30, 2026 / / No comments

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I received an email yesterday from my fine editor, Alessandra Preziosi, requesting an author photo for my upcoming picture book, What Dogs Don’t Know. 

I immediately remembered a snap taken this summer on Lake Champlain. It’s true, dogs don’t know a lot of things. But my guy Echo knows kayaking!

We do have a life preserver for him. And I know, I know, I have to get better about using it all the time. 

 

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The book, wonderfully illustrated by Laura Sandoval, comes out in June, 2027. 

Echo can’t wait.

Category: What Dogs Don't Know / Tags: , ,
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