I’m off this morning to the Washington Museum Association Conference in Pullman, WA. Putting my work with the Whidbey Writers Workshop and Washington State History Museum to good use, I’m speaking twice. Once on Thursday, “Right-Sizing” Your Education Programs During the Economic Crunch” and once on Friday with “Writing to Connect with Young Audiences.”  Both presentations draw from a number of projects located at various museums around the country as well as the children’s literature field.

These conferences are great fun, and putting together these presentations always helps me align my thoughts on key topics facing museum educators, exhibit developers, and writers around the country. The only problem is that these subjects could be day-long workshops in their own right! One hour is a tight fit.

Ah well, I like a challenge.

I just met a mythical someone named “Yolanda.” As of Yolanda’s April 23 blog post, it seems “she” has copied the text of one of my book reviews, changed a bunch of words and meanings, re-posted it on a windows blog site, and left my byline on it like a gleaming cherry on a melted sundae. No comments postable, no profile available, truckloads of unethical moves. 

You know the old saying, “asking forgiveness is easier than asking permission”? Well, in cases of stolen and torked blog posts and book reviews, that is one big friggin’ No-No. So hey, authors Shaun Tan and Brian Selznick (or anyone else who has been “scimmed ” by Yolanda), if you happened to find this dubious mutation of your titles, take it with a grain of pepper and read the real post here in “My Book Shelf” or at the review’s original home at whidbeystudents.com. 

And as for you, Dear Yolanda, didn’t your momma ever teach you that stealing ain’t cool? And stealing and tweaking is wrong to the core. Stop it.

Forgive me peeps for I have sinned, it’s been way too long since my last post. But, hey, life’s been busy, and who am I to bore you with the details? What I will share is my latest author interview recently posted on the Northwest Institute of Literary Arts/Whidbey Writer’s Workshop student website. The story is called “Meet the Watsons: An Interview With Author-Illustrator Richard Jesse Watson.” Check it out at http://whidbeystudents.com/childrensyoung-adult/.

Watson’s studio is like a total “whatsthatthing?” tour. So cool!

I’m delighted to announce that the premiere issue of COLUMBIAKids is live and thriving at http://columbia.washingtonhistory.org/kids. It’s an awesome new online magazine for Pacific Northwest kids (about 4-14 years) who love stories AND for kids around the world who want to know more about the Northwest.

COLUMBIAKids is scheduled to come out twice per year, with one general issue (as you’ll find posted) and one theme issue per year. A publication of the Washington State Historical Society, it’s funded through grants and sponsorships so you won’t find a lick of advertising competing with the stories on the page. 

COLUMBIAKids is mainly nonfiction, but includes one historical fiction piece per issue. Here are some of the great stories you’ll find in the Fall 2008 issse:

One Day in History (historical fiction): “Capture at Penn Cove” 

Notorious NWesterners: Grub for Giants (about logging camp cooks)

What is That?: Pigs at the Market (about Rachel, the Pike Place piggy bank)

Making History: Washington’s Goodwill Ambassador (about artist Dale Chihuly’s installation in Jerusalem)

NW Legends: How Salmon Finds His Way Home (an original legend about the salmon’s sense of smell)

Collections Conundrum: Unraveling the Mystery of the WSHS Mummy (by yours truly)

Try This: The Union Railroad’s “Hurry Up! Apple Cake”

Homework Helper: Washington’s State Symbols

NW Book Swap: Reviews of books by Pacific Northwest authors written by KIDS

Lastly, you’ll find some secret “doorways” into “Amazing Places” and “Word Play,” but I’ll leave you the thrill of exploring and finding them on your own.

COLUMBIAKids has been called as “the coolest new kids’ zine on the web.” We agree and hope you do too.

Check out “about COLUMBIAKids” to download the latest writers and illustrators guidelines.

Terri Radcliffe Hunziker and I went to high school together and managed to keep in touch through the twenty something years that have followed. She was the last one we ever thought would go first. It was non-smoker lung cancer, that mysterious disease that’s creeping into the lives of more and more people, that took her on July 4, 2008. It was her Independence Day after almost five years of fighting. The doctors had originally given her six months.

You can read more about her and all she did to try to extend her life and raise her kids at www.mybumpintheroad.com. She, in her quiet way, was a doer.

I found out after she was gone that she had asked for me to read at her memorial–a reading of my choice. I couldn’t find anything that truly captured her spirit, so I dared to write my own. It’s called “Pieces,” and it was inspired by David Wagoner’s poem “Going Back to the Sea.” It’s a story from the heart—bad freeform random poetry at worst, a hopeful monologue at best. I’m posting it here for everyone who was lucky enough to know or even hear of Terri. She touched the lives of many.

———————————————-

Pieces: A Letter To Terri

Dear Ter,

You’ve left us in pieces. Shattered like colored glass on hard cold marble.

Our worlds hung suspended when you left,

Until the knowledge of what was coming

Clashed with the disbelief that it had actually arrived.

And then all the glass bubbles of hope we’d

launched day after day, treatment after treatment

came crashing, crashing

Crashing to Earth.

And now, Ter, as I stand amidst this

Kaleidescope of your life, I have some questions for you.

Questions about you and about stuff you should know now

That you didn’t know when you were here.

For example, why when my poetry teacher sent a poem to me

For you called “Going Back to the Sea”

why did it bring me to tears for the rest of the afternoon?

Why? Was it the beginning?

“It will seem strange at first

going back under water,

            but soon your difficult breathing

            will feel like a birthright,

and you’ll settle down

to a more buoyant life

            where each step and each touch

            will be an easy impulse

to give in to. Your body

will discover old proportions….”

Was it the poem’s title and the recollections it inspired of pilgrimages

we all made to Cannon Beach? That place where the

sand stretches endlessly, the pizza is fresh, seabirds swirl,

and the waves roll far offshore, white against gray.

Or was it because we had all wanted your lungs to clear

And your breathing to be easy? And you to be well.

Why did that poem bring on such stinging tears?

Maybe it was the middle.

“…In place of speech,

            you’ll have your exclusive silence.

Now the dissolution of shadows

and the scattering of the sun

into ribbons and broken crescents

            will show what swims around you —

            diatoms, plankton, the suspense

of colloidial particles—

and will blur your vision

            momentarily

            into the visionary….”

You, Ter, were our science visionary,

With bits of wisdom and humor dancing in the ether.

My favorites, as I’m sure you’d guess, are the

“Weird & Wacky Science Facts” from the Terimore Institute.

Like this one…

“A giraffe can go without water longer than a camel can. Next time I have to cross the Sahara desert, I will be certain to go by giraffe.”

And this one….

“Crocodiles and alligators are surprisingly fast on land. Although they are rapid, they are not agile; so if you ever find yourself chased by one, run in a zigzag line. If this doesn’t work, the management is not responsible.”

A crocodile passed through the front entry

The night Shan and I stayed with you.

You weren’t afraid and we didn’t have to run in a

Zig zag line. Instead, you watched it go by

with an Audubon eye

and then slept. You made me brave.

What’s it like, where you are?

I imagine it’s a place of possibilities

Like the poem’s near end…

“…If you go back

to glare and the wind, if you flounder

            ashore on the sand and lift

            your shape on surprising legs

and finally stand once more….”

I know it frustrated you no end

Those last weeks, not being able to stand on your own.

But when we watched that last movie Blue Crush.

We dreamed up lives as hot, strong surfer chicks.

What it must feel like to stand on a board

And ride those waves…

Maybe now you know.

Have you found your footing in another world,

While we all struggle to find ours in this?

Dang, girl. You left us all in pieces.

You were supposed to be our miracle.

But you left us all in pieces—a quivering

mass of molecules,

atoms, dancing particles of light.

Elements on the periodic table.

Electrical impulses.

Mysteries of life.

What wisdom can you share with us now?

Maybe it’s this truth,

Channeled from you through me, to this room

Where we’re meant to remember and say good-bye.

But we can’t fully let you go

because now we know this one true thing…

You were made up of pieces of us, and we are made

Of pieces of you. Memories, touches, smiles,

even those people

You never met, hoping and praying

for your miracle—our miracle.

That we all thought would come.

But maybe, just maybe YOU are our miracle.

Left for us in tiny pieces.

In us.

Those little ways you

Entered our lives that help us to remember

and to know you in ways you were

too humble to reveal.

You think we think you’re gone? Ha!

Ter, we can find you in a grain of sand.

We can find you in the lines on our hands

We can even find you in Bryson’s green eggs and ham.

I suppose one day we will let you go, but only

Because you left us pieces.

Pieces of bravery,

Of intelligence

Of determination

Of laughter,

Of kindness.

Pieces. Because of those we will remember.

Because of those we will all find a beginning in a poem’s end.

“You’ll find what’s left of yourself

sinking slowly, easily,

into a half-sleep once more.”

But we know you aren’t sleeping.

We know that you’re astride a giraffe galloping across

The Sahara. That you’ll Go Back to the Sea, with an

Evolutionary flair, swimming with the birds and the fishes

In your favorite Saint’s care.

We know you’re everywhere—

“in the scattering of the sun

into ribbons and broken crescents…

         that will show what swims around us—

diatoms, plankton, the suspense of colloidial particles…”

All blurring our vision momentarily, into the visionary.

Thanks Ter, for sharing pieces of you with all of us.

Written by Stephanie Lile for

Terri Radcliffe Hunziker –December 26, 1962- July 4, 2008–

Inspired by ”Going Back to the Sea” a poem by David Wagoner.

Memorial Service July 10, 2008

Object inquiries and secret resources to help solve the history mysteries in your life. Whether you’re a writer, illustrator, museum professional, educator, or student, you might just find this blog helpful and occasionally entertaining. But be warned, I’m not a daily blogger (I’m aiming for twice a week), I’m weirdly random about the things that catch my eye, and I’ve done enough homework to know I don’t want to do yours (well, maybe not unless there’s serious $$ involved). 

So watch here for upcoming posts on stuff like:

My Book Shelf (is a Scary Place)

One Man’s Crap, Another Person’s Treasure

Ephemera (if you don’t know what the word means you definitely need to read this blog!)

Big Stuff (objects too big to fit in a museum)

Conservation

The Secret Life of Mount Makers

Route 66 Recollections

“My Eye” Highlights

Iconography 

Where the Heck is Svalbard?

Why I love Compass Roses

And whatever else I dream up…see ya ’round “What’s That Thing?”