Safely in Atlanta

I made it! And what's weird is that for a day that we were all thinking was going to be nothin' but trouble, everything went smoothly. I can't say as much for people traveling on the roads of Atlanta last night because during our trek from the airport to the hotel we passed by at least 6 cars skidded out on the freeway in the snow. My driver said they'd been there since the big storm last night. They're just in the lanes of the "freeway" which was icy and snowy and had a max speed tonight of about 25. I felt like I was in some end-of-the-world movie -- snowy roads, cars abandoned, big city buildings, and us, crawling along the freeway at 25 mph with nobody else around. Yeah, it was a little eerie! The driver was very careful, but we did slip slide a little. He told me his name, but each time we skidded a little I wanted to pinch my nose and say "Skidworth!" You have to be a Sponge Bob fan to understand why I think that's so hilarious. Anyway, how lucky am I that my tour started today and not yesterday? Skidworth! Okay. Enough of that. Obviously I'm punchy. Two very interesting chance meetings at the airport today. My connection was in Phoenix, and I've been to Phoenix enough times to know that Terminal 4 of the airport is the Barry M. Goldwater Terminal. It's in big letters outside, and inside. If you're one of my young readers, you almost certainly have no clue who Barry M. Goldwater was, so here's a little history: He was a senator from Arizona who ran for president against Lyndon Johnson in 1964, a year after LBJ took over the presidency following John F. Kennedy's assassinated. His senate seat is now filled by John McCain. Well, today in the Phoenix airport, at the gate for the Atlanta flight there was this guy, probably about 70. (No, it wasn't BMG, he died in 1998.) He was dressed in tasseled loafers, dark slacks, a white shirt, and vest. He was sitting next to me in the terminal, and was on the phone most of the time. Shortly before we began boarding we talked a little -- just pleasant do-you-think-we'll-make-it-to-Atlanta type chit chat. Which led to talk of air travel. Which led to how we don't like it. Which led to him asking me why I...a 'girl' in snow boots, jeans, two sweatshirts, surrounded by carry-on luggage...would have cause to have to travel. Obviously, I don't look like much of a business person. The pink streak, I'm sure, doesn't help. So I told him that I write books--novels, mostly--for kids, and that this was the first day of a book tour. That seemed to really interest him, and then it came out that he'd written a book, too. So I asked what he'd written and he said it was a book based on a journal his dad had kept. "So...was your dad somebody famous?" He nodded. "Barry Goldwater." So, there I am, standing in Barry M. Goldwater Terminal, talking to Barry M. Goldwater's son, whose name turned out to be....Barry M. Goldwater Jr. I continued talking until I left him in first class and made my way back to sardine class, where I somehow jockeyed into an empty aisle seat with no screaming baby next to me (poor dear) and an empty middle seat beside me. (Bonus!) The Window Guy was quiet for about half the trip while I ate and worked, and then we started talking to each other. You know. Small talk. Like, isn't-it-amazing-that-we're-actually-on-our-way-to-Atlanta type chit chat. And then it came out that he's an up-and-coming reality show personality who goes by Bully the Kid. He's an announcer for events based around pit bulls, of all things. It's not dog fighting, it's more the opposite -- he gets dogs that are used for fighting unchained. Smart guy, and a good guy, too. Really solid. We talked about Hollywood and how to keep life real because things are moving really fast for him and oftentimes people skid out of control in those circumstances. Skidworth! Never mind. That was just dumb. But hey, I'm tired and I'm allowed. Wow now it's 12:30 AM Atlanta time. I'd better quit yakking and hit the sheets. Thanks for stopping by. And for worrying about me. I know some of you were and I think that's really sweet of you. But I'm fine. Everything's cool. Cold, actually. Maybe I should turn up the heat before my nose starts dripping icicles. Skidworth! Shut-up, Wendelin, and go to bed. Yes, ma'am! (Skidworth!)

Snow Boots Packed, Check!

The Running Dream comes out on Tuesday!

My book tour starts tomorrow!

At least I hope it does--I start in Atlanta, and tonight flights were cancelled due to weather.

But my publicist is awesome and on top of it and she's says she'll get me there. And you know what? I believe her!

Just tonight she landed a 5-star review in the Examiner. I love that the reviewer says it's not just a book for young adults -- that adults will love it too. So far, so true!

Also, that video I told you about is also now available -- it's only 90 seconds, but I think it sums up the basic premise beautifully. YouTube trailer

Here's the finalized itinerary for the public appearances during this January Tour. It doesn't seem like much in the way of events, but I'm crazy busy doing school visits before (and sometimes after) what's listed. I can't take a prosthetic leg with me, but Peg-Leg Greg (bless his heart) allowed me to photograph him donning his, so I've got a step-by-step as part of my slide show.

I sent out an announcement asking people who are interested and able to buy a book to please consider doing it on release date (Tuesday, 1/11) because a good early sales rank helps a book gain momentum (and after everything I put into writing this book that would be greatly appreciated!). So if that's you, please visit your local independent bookseller or Amazon Barnes & Noble Powell’s Indiebound And if you know of anyone else who may be interested, please pass this information on! While on tour I will do my best to break the once-a-week protocol at the blog here and update every day. It'll make me feel like I've got company on tour -- and people who stop by here definitely make for good company!

Many thanks for your enthusiasm! See you soon!

* * * * * · “This heart-touching story is a helpful reminder that we must appreciate each day and each blessing.”—Jordan Hasay, four-time USA Track & Field Junior Women’s Champion, 1500m, 2007–2010 · “I felt as if this wonderful young woman was sitting right next to me telling me the story of her year of discovery—her journey of frustration, loss, friendship, laughter, and enlightenment. Running is something you do from your heart.” —Anthony Edwards, award-winning actor, runner, and chairman of Shoe4Africa · "The real magic of The Running Dream is not just the conquest of one individual over a physical limitation. It is the collective good an athletic team can do for themselves, their teammates, and their community. I would certainly recommend The Running Dream to any high school athlete, regardless of the sport."—Ken Reeves, teacher and coach for 35 years, 2-time National High School Cross Country Coach of the Year, 11-time California State Championship Team Coach, 14-time CIF Southern Section Championship Team Coach · “With deep insight and sensitivity, Wendelin Van Draanen explores a profoundly human and liberating concept—to see the person, not the disability—in this wonderful portrait of a girl and her community.” –Marianne Leone, actress, author of Knowing Jesse: A Mother’s Story of Grief, Grace, and Everyday Bliss.

For Samantha

The idea for The Running Dream scared me at first. I knew the research would be extensive, and not only did I not have time between Sammy Keyes deadlines to learn everything I would need to know to write the story with authenticity, I knew that diving into the subject would be a very emotional undertaking. At first I kept at arm’s length. I absorbed information in an almost clinical fashion, trying to master the necessary jargon and thoroughly understand the process of amputation and rehabilitation. Being the overly teary-eyed person that I am, even that was tough. But all the reading on a subject can’t substitute for real life examples and real time input from people who have been through an experience similar to the one you’re presenting on paper. Which meant I had to find…someone. But who? My main character, Jessica, is a high school track star who loses her leg in a terrible bus accident. I didn’t know anyone like her. I didn’t know anyone with a prosthetic limb. I didn’t even know anyone who knew anyone. (And, as you may recall from Why the Taxidermist is Cockeyed, I’m terrified of making cold calls.) There are a few prosthetists in the area, but not many, and at that point I was still afraid of blowing it. (And as you know from Why the Taxidermist is Cockeyed, I’m pretty good at blowing it.) After another agonizing month of avoidance, my husband produced a name. Someone who knew someone who knew someone. This began a series of dead end leads. People move. Disconnect their phones. Change jobs. You know. Then one morning I was following a tentative lead—another friend of a friend of a friend—and as fate would have it, this friend of a friend of a friend no longer worked there. “Maybe I can help you,” the receptionist said. I remember holding my hand to my face and trying hard not to sigh. Desperate, I told her, “I’m a children’s book author. I’m writing a book about a high school track runner who loses her leg in an accident. I’m hoping to find a prosthetist who’s willing to answer a few questions.” “His schedule’s pretty tight,” she said. “But I’m a below-knee amputee and a dancer. I could probably help you.” When I got over my shock, I laughed and said, “That would be great!” Then I told her my name and asked her what hers was. “Samantha,” she said. So yeah, I about dropped the phone. This angel’s name was Samantha? I told her why the name was significant. “I go by Sammy sometimes too,” she said. “But usually just Sam.” I arranged to take her out to lunch. We ate tostadas at her favorite outdoor patio restaurant and she talked frankly about losing her leg to cancer when she was a child and the things she’d been through growing up and dealt with now, as a young woman. She was sweet and upbeat and told me it was fine if I called her with more questions. Which I did. But since I really also needed to witness the casting of a residual limb (stump) and the building of a prosthetic leg, I also asked if she could arrange a tour of the facility and maybe allow me to sit in on a casting. Samantha was willing, but in the end her boss was not. And when my phone calls and e-mails stopped being returned, I took the hint and began pursuing other avenues. My author copies for The Running Dream arrived shortly after Christmas. I always give away my copies to the people who have helped me shape the book, and in this case that included Samantha. It had probably been a year and a half since I’d spoken to her – maybe two years – but I was excited to finally deliver her copy. For one thing, it’s a beautiful book, for another, as promised, she’s thanked on the Acknowledgements page. So I called the office to see when she’d be working. A voice that I didn’t recognize answered the phone. “Hi,” I said, “Is Samantha there?” “I’m sorry, no,” came the reply. “She passed away earlier this year.” I live in such a happy little world. It hasn’t always been that way, but it is now. And it’s not like I forget or ignore or am oblivious to the agony of others – I just try to wrap myself in the good that is today and hold it close knowing that things really can change in the blink of an eye. Samantha’s death didn’t come in the blink of an eye. Cancer shadowed her her whole life. So the news of her death made me feel oblivious. And neglectful. And so sad. No, life’s not fair, but I mean, come on. Through the new receptionist, I delivered a copy of The Running Dream to Samantha’s family, and I included a little letter that explained my connection to her. I also told them that the character Chloe is fashioned after her. She’s cheerful and sweet and helpful. And probably much braver than I know.

TRD Tour Info

Book tour is fast approaching. I used to report my little book tour misadventures to my editor and publicist but I think I’ll keep any of those to myself this time. After all, they worry. Or maybe I’ll get lucky and won’t have any to keep anything to myself. It would help, I suppose, if I didn’t get lost jogging and have to climb fences. That way I wouldn’t become like Marissa atop chain-link with underwear flapping around like a flag of surrender. Marissa, at least, knew where she was. Give me the back of the dilapidated Heavenly Hotel over where I wound up any day. So yeah. I can work on controlling fence-climbing urges, but the weather? Not much I can do about that. Chicago in January is not somewhere I’m looking forward to being. There’s really no room for snow boots in carry-on luggage, so maybe I’ll just wear them and hope to not get stuck in Phoenix again. Who’s that crazy girl with a snow jacket and snow boots? It’s like, seventy-five degrees out. That would be the famous author on book tour. She’ll be stuck on a fence before nightfall. Anyway, I received an early copy of The Running Dream a few days ago. It really is a beautiful book. The design team did such a nice job on it. I feel so lucky! And after all this time it’s finally really a book. Happy sigh. Double-anyway, here’s the basic schedule of public appearances (Appearances—I love that word. It’s like poof you appear. No flight delays or fences involved.) The schedule is packed with other events (school visits, mostly) but these are the ones open to the public, starting on the official publication date: Tuesday 1/11: Atlanta--Little Shop of Stories, 4:30 p.m. Wednesday 1/12 Atlanta--Borders, Marietta 7 p.m. Thursday 1/13 Chicago--B&N Skokie at 7:30 p.m. Friday 1/14 Chicago--Anderson’s Bookshop 7 p.m. Saturday 1/15 St. Louis--St. Louis Library, 2 p.m. Sunday 1/16 St. Louis--St. Charles County Library @ 1:30 p.m. Monday 1/17 St. Louis -- Borders, Brentwood 7 p.m. (Tuesday 1/18—school visit and travel) Wednesday 1/19—Seattle--Third Place Books, 7 p.m. (Thursday 1/20—Seattle—no public—only school visits) Friday 1/21—San Jose--Hicklebee’s, 7 p.m. Saturday 1/22—San Francisco--Rakestraw Books, 11:00 a.m. Keep in mind that the city listed represents the vicinity, not necessarily the actual city the bookstore is located. I hope some of these places are near you because what makes book tour worthwhile is meeting the people who love your work…and if you check out this blog, I know you do! Hoping to see you on tour (with no Flag of Surrender showing), Wendelin

Food Fight Birthday!

I should have said this in a comment last week, but since I didn’t, I’ll say it here: I love how all you guys went with the (kinda loser) guy thing. Something about that was really fun for me and I just want to say thanks :) More about the (kinda loser) guy later, but what I’m wanting to talk about this week is birthdays. Those of you who read last week's comments probably saw that a (definitely nice) dad requested a little birthday wish from me for his (unfortunately sick) daughter whose birthday is today. So I sent a note, and since my son’s birthday was yesterday, it got me thinking how my son has been sick on some of his birthdays, and how miserable that was for him. It also got me thinking about fun birthdays. There were two from my childhood that I remember with great fondness. My mom always baked our cakes, and one year I thought she’d had a little trouble with the baking because my cake was oddly shaped. There was this weird top layer that looked like only part of a layer but it was…I don’t know, just strange. And when I went to cut it, it was like a rock (which was not boding well for the enjoyment of this cake). But then I realized that the top layer was an upside down margarine tub, and once I removed it I discovered that inside the tub was a jewelry box with a darling little necklace. So that was really unexpected and fun and I thought my mother was very clever. The other birthday was one I had after a long battle with my appendix (which ruptured and had me sick for way longer than I should have been). My parents converted our backyard into this elaborate Wild West Adventure Land with booths and gold nuggets and activities…I remember it as being just amazing. But I think the birthday that, uh, takes the cake, was my son’s tenth birthday. Food Fight Birthday! Mind you, this was not a spontaneous chucking (and thankfully not upchucking) of food. This food fight was planned and sanctioned by adults. (Well, at least by someone passing herself off as an adult and her poor accomplice...I mean, husband.) Yup, I got this idea in my head and once it was there, there was no stopping me. I made vast quantities of rice and mixed it with mashed potatoes. I bought huge bags of dinner rolls. I bought cases of whipped cream cans. I made a huge slab of Jell-o cake. There were boxes of cookies and crackers and bags of marshmallows. The kid in me was not thinking about starving kids in Africa. The kid in me thought it was the most awesome idea ever! The day of the party, Mark and I hauled the vats of food, a table, chairs, a boom box, shovels and shields down to the beach (which was deserted because it was cold and cloudy and threatening rain). First we made the kids play some obligatory games…beach golfing, balloon volleyball, ring toss….you know. But really, the ten or so kids who’d come were there for one thing: FOOD FIGHT! So we gave each kid a poncho (because we thought their moms would appreciate that). Then Mark and I split them into teams and cut them loose to dig their foxholes and ready their strategies. And when we finally said GO, those kids cut loose. They hurled food and darted in and out of enemy territory dousing each other with whipped cream. It was wild! Completely out of control! And such fun. The unexpectedly cool thing about the aftermath of this food fight was that the food did not go to waste after all. Not that it went to kids in Africa, but the seagulls swooped in and had the beach spotless before we could load up the table and chairs. The bonus being, no clean up! My son is now 17, and most of that same group of friends will be over tomorrow for a jam session birthday party. (I’m talking music here, not strawberries.) So they’ve outgrown the urge to hurl food (I’m counting on that, anyway), but to this day they all still talk about Food Fight Birthday. If you have a favorite (or least favorite!) party story you’d like to share, I’d love to hear. Meanwhile, may your days be merry and bright, and may at least one birthday in your life be…FOOD FIGHT!

Silly, Silly Me (And An EP)

It’s always a mistake for me to think I can take a few weeks—or wow, maybe a month—off from writing to enjoy a sense of accomplishment—and maybe recover a little—from having completed a novel. Turning in Sammy Keyes and the Night of Skulls in November looked like good timing, too, because the last month of the year is always nuts. We hosted Thanksgiving, Mark’s birthday was shortly after, then we celebrated our “Dutch Christmas” which takes the first five days of December and requires a bit of work on my part, and the rest of the month doesn’t get much easier. Our younger son has a birthday in mid-December (which we strive to make unique so it’s not lost in the holiday shuffle), and then there’s the final ramp up to Christmas and New Year’s…by the time we cross the finish line on my birthday in early January, everyone’s exhausted and definitely broke. So I was convinced that it was okay to take December off from writing. After all, I haven’t received any official contract for the last Sammys. What was the hurry, right? So I got busy writing Christmas cards instead. Silly, silly me. Late last week my editor told me that the next Sammy is due in May. May! “June at the very latest.” Good grief. My head’s barely escaped the graveyard mayhem of Night of Skulls. And The Running Dream is coming out in January! I’m going to be away on tour! How am I supposed to get a book done by May? Or even June? But having been ingrained in my youth with my parents' indelible (and often damnable) Immigrant Work Ethic, I know I’ll give it my best shot. Which means buckling down and getting started. Which means an emergency plot-talking-session with Mark. Which means (because we have no road trips planned) going for a long run. Once the broad strokes of a story are painted, it’s not hard for me to fill in the details. But I have to really understand and like the broad strokes. So even though I’ve got the basic idea for each of the final four Sammy’s defined, I need way more than that to begin writing. It’s like the pot of paint is open, but the switch plates haven’t been removed and the trim isn’t masked and there’s no drop cloth on the floor. It is definitely not paint time until everything is ready, ‘cause if you start before everything is ready the cleanup is going to be enormous, and no matter what you hope, the job won’t come out pro. So early Saturday morning Mark and I set out on a ten mile run, and we talked plot. There’s something about the rhythm of running and the inability to do anything else that makes running the perfect vehicle for tossing creative ideas back and forth. The basic idea for Sammy 15 is that there’s this (kinda loser) guy who creates a (very lame) superhero persona and makes it his mission to monitor the mini metropolis of Santa Martina for evildoers. Officer Borsch, of course, thinks he’s a nutcase and a nuisance. Which he is. Sort of. The (kinda loser) guy, however, thinks Sammy is a star. Which she is. Definitely. But she's never actually had a "celebrity moment" before, so this is all a little strange. Maybe even creepy. Anyway, that was my starting point. And it may not seem like much, but that’s pretty typical for me. Sometimes I’ll write a Sammy Keyes book from the crime out, but most often it’s from the character in. The people have to fascinate me to keep me interested, and from them I fashion an event or crime that would fit in with their sub-world or psyche. This (kinda loser) guy—who has yet to be named—fascinates me. And I know I’ll have no trouble sustaining my interest in him through 250 or 300 pages. It’s the events surrounding him that needed to be developed, but after ten miles of running through back roads I'm happy to report that I have some really great (and funny) plot ideas for the mystery thread of Sammy #15. (I also have a huge blister on my pinky toe which I'm going to break down and pop.) Now, when I say that all I was starting with was this idea for a (kinda loser) guy, that’s not really true. There is, of course, the developing thread of plot lines established in previous books. Like the mystery of who Sammy’s dad is and the set-up for the Big Reveal in Book 16. There’s also the dynamics among established characters, and how all the threads will tie together. But after 10 miles on the road, I’m feeling a lot more ready to dip the brush. Which is a huge relief. But still. May? I have a feeling I’m going to be logging a lot of miles between now and then. Switching subjects—I’d promised to let you know when our CD (make that EP) was on iTunes, and it is now. It’s also on Amazon. Just search “Risky Whippet” and you’ll find us. (I’ll post the artwork so you know what it looks like.) Hope you think it’s fun! Post questions if you have them--I'm happy to answer what I can. Thanks so much for checking in. See you next week (when I hope to have details about my tour schedule)!

Video Voodoo

For a day that I was kind of dreading, today turned out to be pretty cool. Random House arranged for a small crew of film studies students from a nearby university to do a video shoot for The Running Dream at my house today. The plan was for them to interview me about the impetus for writing the book, the research involved, and what I hoped readers would take away from the story. They were also to get B-roll footage of me working at my desk, and more of me running. All of this would be whittled down to 90 seconds (or so) and used for promotional purposes and available on Random House’s dedicated YouTube channel. The trouble with a video interview is that you want to sound unscripted, yet intelligent, but when that red light is on, what comes out of your mouth is either stuttery or stupid. At least that’s how my mouth seems to operate under the glare of the mini red light. The other trouble with a video interview is hair. It just knows. It’s supposed to be perky (or, at least, pleasant) so it becomes immediately sullen. Or rebellious. Or too tired to do anything but just lay there. I’d liken hair on important days to teenagers, but that wouldn’t be fair. Put on some good music and a teenager will come around. I tried that with my hair this morning and it remained sullen and flat. But whatever. It’s just hair. It’s your words that are important, right? What was nice about the guys who showed up—Tony, Aaron, and Kyle—is that they were seasoned enough to know what they were doing, yet young enough to still have that spark. You know—that enthusiasm people have when they believe that what they’re doing matters. So they set up their equipment and we went through the questions my publicist had suggested, but when we were done with that they had me just talk about The Running Dream. You know—a conversation. And I think that was when I forgot about the mini red light and finally relaxed. I love this book, and there’s so much to it and behind it that it’s easier to just talk about it than answer questions about it. An answer should have a beginning and an end and not a bunch of segues and sidetracks. A conversation…well, that’s different. Of course, it’s much harder to edit a conversation than a Q&A, but I’d personally way rather hear someone speak from the heart than hear them hit all the important talking points. Anyway! That was the interview portion of it. What was next was B-roll footage of me working in my office. I’d put all my usual desk clutter in a box and hauled it out of there so there’d be room on my desk for the prosthetic legs I’d borrowed. Let me back up here and say that it’s really cool to have gotten to know the people who have helped you research a book well enough to be comfortable ringing them up and asking, Hey, can I borrow a leg? To the wrong person, that could be a very insensitive (make that crass) question. But to these guys it was, Sure. We got you covered. So covered, in fact that right now there are five prosthetic legs in my office, including a running leg, and a flipper footed one for swimming. The flipper foot is awesome. More about these guys in a future post—I promise you’ll want to meet them. But now I’ve got to focus, not get sidetracked, so back to the mini-video YouTubey thing. The last phase of this adventure was getting footage of me running. Now, the truth is, I was not keen on them videoing me running but when they said it was fine for me to bring the whippets, well, I was suddenly a lot more okay with it. So we drove down to the local campground, and while I leashed up the pups, they hatched their plan—Aaron would ride a skateboard beside me, shooting footage as I ran. A skateboarding videographer? How cool is that? He had this clever counterbalance contraption attached to the camera which served to steady the shot. (It’s that backwards “C” shaped gizmo in the photo.) The dogs and I ran back and forth, back and forth, while Aaron rode beside me, pumping along, shooting video. It felt kinda like being out on a little adventure with Sammy Keyes. So even though it took about 5 hours to shoot what will become a 90 second video, the guys made it fun and interesting, and the day turned out way better than I’d anticipated. Now if they’ll just make me look good and sound smart!