When You Give an Author a Thank You Letter . . .

She's going to get all weepy when she opens the big yellow envelope and sees this . . .

Then she's going to read each and every letter about our recent Skype visit, like one by Logan, who said I encouraged him to write, so he wrote 3 stories and 27 poems.  Yowza, Logan!

And this one by Hannah, who says that when she grows up, she wants to be an awseome writer just like me.  It seems like Hannah's pretty awesome.  Right?

Then the author is clearly going to need a tissue to wipe away her happy tears.  And a cookie and a glass of milk because an envelope full of these . . .

clearly makes an author a little verklempt, but not so verklempt that she can't write a thank you note in response.

So, Ms. Keane's wonderfully thoughtful kids, this Dr. Seuss "Thank You" card is coming your way soon!

Where's the Lorax When You Need Him?

When we walked our dogs, they always stopped under the Royal Poinciana tree on our corner.  We admired the orange blooms and long green pods.  It was the only shade for blocks.

When Hubby saw a "For Sale" sign in front of the property, he said, "Uh oh.  That tree's going to come down."

"Don't say that," I said.  "It might not."

A few weeks later, there were two men out there.  One had a chain saw; the other stood back with arms crossed.

"You're not going to cut down that tree," I said to the man with his arms crossed.

"I've got to," he said, gesturing.  "Look how it's hitting that wire up there."

"But we love that tree.  It barely survived the hurricanes, then came back to what it is now."

He shrugged.

I fumed.

It reminded me of this book, where residents saw an orange traffic cone one day near their beloved orange tree and knew trouble was brewing.

And this book about how Julia Butterfly Hill spent TWO YEARS living in a tree to save it from being cut down.

It wasn't long before the beautiful tree on our corner looked like this . . .

And then this . . .

The book we really need is this one . . .

Where's the Lorax when you need him?

"You're in charge of the last of the Truffula Seeds.

And Truffula Trees (Royal Poinciana Trees) are what everyone needs.

Plant a new Truffula.  Treat it with care.

Give it clean water.  And feed it fresh air.

Grow a forest.  Protect it from axes (and chainsaws) that hack.

Then the Lorax and all of his friends may come back." 

-- The Lorax by Dr. Seuss

Lots of Good Fun That Is Funny . . .

Yes, I dragged my nearly 14 year-old-son on The Cat in the Hat ride at Islands of Adventure. While waiting in line, embarrassed, he read the walls that contained the text from The Cat in the Hat “. . . lots of good fun that is funny.”

Since he rode The Cat in the Hat ride for me, I rode Revenge of The Mummy – an indoor roller coaster in the dark -- with him. Four times!

I also took our sons to Wonder Works in Orlando. My husband referred to it as the upside down museum because it looks like the building is upside down. Inside, we rode a virtual roller coaster, learned that a mosquito has 47 teeth, experienced an earthquake with a 5.3 magnitude and ate really bad pizza. Not all at the same time.

During down time on our family vacation in Orlando – okay, hubby worked the whole time at a conference – I read. Two delightful books reminded me that writing should be good fun that is funny.

A Beginning, a Muddle and an End: The Right Way to Write Writing by Avi and illustrated by Tricia Tusa tickled my funny bone. Avon, a snail, wants to write. His friend Edward, an ant, helps him. Here are a few sentences from the first chapter that showcase some of the wild wordplay:

Avon sighed. “The truth is, Edward,” he said, “I’ve read a lot of adventures. And I’ve been on my own adventures. But I’m making no progress writing about my adventures.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” said Edward. “Do you know anything about why?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s at the end of the alphabet,” said Avon, “next to Z.”

I can't imagine a writer who wouldn't enjoy this little gem.

The other book I read that reminded me to have good fun that is funny was Frankenstein Makes a Sandwich by Adam Rex.

OMG!

You must read it. Now. I’ll wait.

Really.

It's that good.

Got it?

Okay.

Snortle. Chortle. Guffaw.

Wasn't it delicious?

What did you think of “The Creature from the Black Lagoon Doesn’t Wait an Hour Before Swimming?”

Me, too. Loved it.

Can’t wait to read the follow-up, Frankenstein Takes the Cake, but I can’t right now because I’m smack in the middle of The True Meaning of Smekday by, um, yeah, Adam Rex.

The guy writes perfect poetry, illustrates uniquely and has written a tremendously creative novel. Yup, hate him.

Actually I don’t. How could I? He's from my hometown -- Philly. Besides, I’m in awe that he retained that unbridled creative spark most children have, but usually have beaten out of them by middle school. Not Adam Rex. He's all about good fun that is funny.

The True Meaning of Smekday is about a Boov (alien) named J.Lo. Yeah, really. J.Lo. And a spunky 11-year-old named Gratuity. Yeah, really. Gratuity. But you can call her Tip. Somewhere beyond the hilarious text is an important message about how people treat each other and how we can do a better job of it. Even though the novel comes in at over 400 pages, I’m reading it as slowly and deliberately as possible because I don’t want it to end.

If I haven’t convinced you to treat yourself to his books yet, read Gratuity and J.Lo Present: 10 Reasons to Read The True Meaning of Smekday.

Then take a look at this clip:

Prepare yourself for a change of topic with absolutely no transition.

Here it is . . .

Now for a completely silly contest with a grand prize of absolutely nothing: A few days ago, I walked by a store and a receipt fluttered to my feet. Being a nosy, um, curious person, I snatched the receipt and examined it. The single item on it was for a pink cocktail dress. And the cost was $7.99 plus tax.

Can you name the store? (Bonus points awarded if you do it in rhyme.)

Now go have some fun that is funny!