When I was out at the Texas Library Association a wee bit ago, one of the librarians dashed off. “Where y’all goin?” I asked. (I love the word y’all. And the phrase “all y’all”… fugghettabouttit.)

“We’re off the compete in the Texas Library Drill Cart Team Competition.”

“Huh?” I replied.

“Y’all don’t have library drill cart teams?”

“Uhm…”

And so I was exposed to yet another reason why I adore librarians – and probably would have become one if I had more talent in the field of organization, diligence, meiculousness… you get the point.

Check it out:

There’s a side of me that feels the reason I spent so much time blogging this past week – to start the new year – discussing the issues, challenges, opportunities, and so on, of print books versus eBooks, is because the way the issue resolves itself in mass culture will eventually drift down into the way it makes itself manifest in our classrooms.

Unfortunately, however, we’ve sort of seen this play out before when personal computers really took hold in society… and made their way into classrooms as, drumroll please, glorified typewriters.

Now, I have no idea how a migration to eReading digital texts from our current state of living in a printed text world within school might get mucked up, but I do believe that unless we set out to purposefully and mindfully professionally develop the skills of the people at the front of the rooms – so they can guide the skills of the kids sitting in the chairs – we could be facing a history repeating itself type of scenario.

Just passing out a ton of eReaders and telling the teachers, “All the content is pre-loaded… bubble tests will be in May, good luck!” seems like 1) a recipe for calamity and 2) the leading manner in which I think eBooks eventually will get rolled out en masse.

Of course the early adapters, the schools that are already using eReading devices and the such, will probably fare much better because those types of schools (i.e. early adapters) are filled with people who typically want to buy in to this change. The admins, the staff, the kids (well, the kids – I think they are ready NOW across the nation; it’s the adults who are not), somebody has taken the initiative to lead the push. This implies that they have both a comfort with the technology as well as a capacity to navigate the technology.

But what about the teachers, admins, and schools that do not? These are the ones who are going to have the purchase “made for them” and be expected to learn and adapt and migrate whether they like it or not.
Can you see the mess already?

eReading is a coming. Printed books are moving from omnipresent to a “you gotta share the space” mode and adaptation is the order of the next decade.
We’re gonna need a whole lotta teachers for the teachers to pull this all off.

Publishing is changing. But also, publishing is not. (I’ve just spent all week tackling a few aspects of this.)

However, in fiction, it’s still all about the story. How it gets delivered to the audience might morph, evolve, devolve or what-not, but the quality necessary to reach real readers probably has a threshold which has migrated quite intact from the pre-Google world to the post-Google world with ease.

Of course, we can bemoan the low quality of pop fiction – but people have been complaining about the demise of solid storytelling since the age of Socrates. And we can turn up our noses at “what those darn kids today” like and read, but to do so loses sight of the fact that they are, indeed, still reading. Books – especially books for young adults – are probably the hottest area in all of publishing.

And it’s because of avid readers and voracious fans. Yep… you guessed it, a few timeless elements power this engine: story and characters.

So yes, I published Cinder-Smella in a new publishing format that did not even exist as little as five years ago but the only reason it resonates with readers is because of the actual content.

In fact, the sub-heading sort of says it all: Cinder-Smella, a Timeless Tale of Stinky Feet.

There’s a reason the Cinderella fable has endured across the globe for centuries. And to think that eReading the tale as opposed to print reading the tale diminishes the tale, well… in to my way of thinking, that dog just don’t hunt.

And the Fairy Hairy Godfather – a character of mine about which I feel SO proud – is gonna tickle the funny bone of readers young and old (so I hope) no matter the publishing format in which they encounter him.

Character and story – no amount of gadgetry is ever going to replace the need for ‘em.

Today I am throwing a surprise 90th birthday for my grandfather, Alvin Lester Sitomer.

My name is Alan Lawrence Sitomer… I was named after him. (Naming after the living is a somewhat dicey call… let my own life be a warning to you – LOL!)

I am not sure I can put into words as to the degree of positive impact this man has had on my personality, belief system or character. And for me to try right now will only leave me feeling as if I have done an inadequate job, so I will not.

(NOTE; it also feels as if it might have a sense of a pre-death eulogy aspect to it and as morbid as that may sound, he is 90, his health is “so so” and this weekend might be the last time I ever see him. However, I feared that 2 years ago as well when we last parted – he lives on the east coast – and I was wrong then so perhaps I will be incorrect now as well.)

Either way it’s a trip of love lined by melancholy. No one escapes the cycle of life. Not even the ones we most adore. And watching role models age – and becoming the caretaker for those who used to be our sole source of strength – well, it’s tough. (Yep, I am the one who does it all. My own father – his son – passed in 1994 and his other son, well… let’s just say it’s with honor and a spirit of love that I currently do the duty. No need to jump into family closets.)

Probably my greatest joy will be the fact that I get to bring my 4 year old daughter to see and hang out with her great-grandfather. He was a master story-teller in his day. (The sun sets on us all, I fear.) But if there is a reason I love STORY, a reason I love heroes and villains and people with guts and fortitude and determination, it certainly began with me sitting transfixed at his knee hearing him weaves tales that made me never want to grow up or leave his side. Zorro, Robin Hood, people who fought for social justice (now that I am old enough to look back and see themes – which, BTW, carry over into my own teaching and writing to this day) those are the stories which moved his soul… and in the telling of them, he moved mine.

As a lawyer, one of his greatest strengths was always oration. And a keen, keen mind.

I’d go on but I guess it’s a discombobulated post today. One filled with non-persued threads and feelings of sadness and longing, accented by love and wistfulness. Like a salad with lots of ingredients – colors and flavors – yet perhaps not really an all that edible dish.

Grandpa Alvin was married 67 years to my Grandma Dorothy… she passed about 2 years ago.

Here’s a pic of me making a trip to introduce them to my own daughter, back in 2010.

Grandpa Alvin is not only the most generous man I know… he’s almost always been the most generous man anyone who knows him knows. Literally, he always had time to be kind, offer wisdom and extend smiles and inspire hope.

Perhaps my greatest goal in this world was to one day be able to carry his water. He is beloved. And he’s my grandfather.

Phew… tough trip, this is.

Anyone who says that size does not matter is not a classroom teacher. The notion is pure and total BS!!

And when I hear stories of how middle school class sizes are now averaging 40 to 1 in San Francisco, I recognize in myself a raging anger at the indignity being suffered by a generation of kids.

With teachers serving as the punching bag all along the way.

It’s a humiliating affront to parents, educators and kids that middle schools in one of the planet’s wealthiest nations have ballooned to this level.

Ain’t no way to try and defend it, either. Instruction suffers when class sizes elevate to these levels. I know. I’ve been there.

You give out a simple assignment and you get a phone book worth of papers to grade.

You try to take a moment to work one-on-one with a kid and 15 other kids don’t get the same opportunity even though they need it as well.

Taking attendance consumes a quantifiable percentage of instructional time. Keeping up with kids who missed class becomes labyrinthian. Teaching the word labyrinthian becomes Herculean because the kids do not have the mythological background knowledge to understand the reference to either a labyrinth or to Hercules beyond a mere cartoon (as opposed to a Greek hero with actual labors).

Additionally, we all know that the L.A. Times is “outing” educators right now (in an effort to drive controversy and thus readership and thus ad sales to their sinking enterprise). But will class sizes show up.

Does a teacher with 22 students not have an instructional leg up on a teacher who has 39 in her class? Will any of the value-added rankings mitigate for that? Anyone who says it doesn’t matter has never stood in front of a sea of public school kids and tried to move their academic mountain.

BTW, I know all the tricks. I had to learn them. I learned how to cut corners on grading papers so that I didn’t need to get hauled off to the loony bin. I learned how to assign things like Daily Oral Language activities at the beginning of class so that I could take attendance while still making sure my students were being productive. There are scores of “little secrets” one learns.

Because when you teach in impacted classrooms, sometimes you are simply trying to survive and the idea of prospering feels Pollyannishly out of reach!

It’s just such a farce what is going on and though I don’t think I would homeschool my own kids, I do see a growing reason why it’s a very real, very legit consideration. Being a faceless number in an over-taxed teacher’s class is no recipe for scholastic excellence!!

But yet, we’ll still pay for the bubble tests. Millions and millions of dollars for them, flawed as they egregiously are.

The blood boils when I think of this stuff. Truly, we have reason for shame.

Teachers as they are portrayed by the media. Hmmm. Is it a topic even worth tackling?

I mean if we teachers are looking to the media to give us a fair and sensible shake, I think we’re gonna be holding our breaths a long freakin’ time.

Truly, as I have said before, when I look at schools across the country (I am fortunate to visit lots of them) and see the work that is being done, I think, “Ya know, teachers, for the most part, are the good guys.”

But to listen to the media one would we think we are the cause of all that is wrong as opposed to the reason that so much is right.

I guess that’s why I love this blog. I get to say what I think and feel in an unvarnished manner. Really, I don’t give a damn if I hurt a lemon teacher’s feelings because if you are not carrying your own weight on campus, someone needs to call you out… because you are shortchanging the kids!

However, most teachers are carrying their own weight. Plus a hell of a lot more. It’s insane how much we do. It’s even more insane how much is being asked of us to do.

And the “to do” list just keeps growing.

Do I really think the media wants to grasp the complexity of this situation? No. Because media in this day and age is filled with lots of smart people trying to dumb down complex ideas into simple, clear-cut, concrete boxes of ideas around which they can sell advertising space.

Teachers in the media need to be over-simplified. Either they are nice, sweet, tea-sipping, apple pie eating church-goers or they are low down, dirty, conniving, reprehensible scoundrels.

So where do the rest of us (and by that I mean the other 98% of us; 1% at each end of the spectrum) fit in?

Sports saved me back when I was in school. Literally, they saved me. Many of my teachers were insensitive idiots, the textbooks bored the crap out of me and rote learning was the way of the world.
Sports gave me a reason to like school. (I always LOVED learning, but I didn’t always love school. And sadly, the two are not always synonymous.)

Now, do sports trump academics? Of course not. But I don’t think it’s an either/or scenario whereas one side needs to “win out” over the other. When I really think about it I realize sports have taught me things about dedication, teamwork, heart, tenacity, personal effort, dignity and so on that school – at least my school – hardly ever even attempted. But a coach, they live, eat and breathe these things. (At least, a good one, does.)

Sports can often mold young people in a way that we absolutely want and even though some schools seem to go psycho in their support of their football or basketball teams (baseball, volleyball and so on, not so much – those are the big 2) academics, when I really think about it is being prioritized by our schools to some extent. After all, it’s always supposed to be class first, then sports. And the city leagues do a pretty good job of insisting upon academic eligibility before they will let players compete.

(No, the system is not perfect. I know, I know.)

The thing is, for some of these players, sports are the only reason they will even bother to go to class. Now we can argue of the merits of that mentality, but it’s a different topic. (A failing of society, parents, the home life, the community, and so on.) But tossing athletics under the bus in the name of turning our schools into core curriculum warehouses seems like a really bad idea to me.

Our kids need exercise (America is plagued by overweight children) and our kids love sports. Plus, lately I’ve been on the “tech geek” bandwagon and I really feel as if some fresh air and outdoor activity is fundamental to a well-functioning human body. Sports is a great compliment to school and without sports, I do feel schools are lesser.

But I feel that way about the arts, music, industrial arts and so on as well.

Like I said, sports practically saved me back in the day. Supporting them does not have to come at the expense of class. One should, in an ideal world, walk hand-in-hand with the other.

People often ask me, “Do you have a “reason” for writing each of your books?”

Now that I think about it, I guess I do write all of my books for a reason. For each of them, I am, dare I say, “inspired”. After all, it takes quite some time to write a novel and the truth is, it’s long hard work that is very much like running a literary marathon. And just because as an author you have done it before, well… this doesn’t mean that you are not going to sweat, ache, groan and feel like throwing in the towel over the course of any new project just because you have been down the road before. You simply know the terrain better – but you still have to run 26.2 miles.

All authors do.

Writing a book, in this way, is like tackling the task of “eating an elephant”. And, as the old saying goes, the only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time.

This is why for me, the first bite always has to be fierce inspiration. Why? Because the burning inspiration to write a story is going to die out. It’s gonna fade away. I’ve discovered that at some point, it’s like being on a sugar high; it’s sustenance that is going to get reduced to virtually nothing over the course of writing an entire novel other nutrition is going to be required to complete the book before the journey is through. Tenacity, fortitude, the determination to work a project to it’s rightful end – the hunger to climb Mount Everest if you will – these are the elements that get me through to the completion of books.

But the start of a new book or project? It always has to begin with an idealistic sense of, “Damn, this is gonna be freakin’ GREAT!”

Having said that, each of my writing projects thus has its origin located in a very specific, tangible place for me. There is a seed which has preceded every birth. (And I have now given birth more than 10 times.)

Over the course of the next week, I think I am gonna explore the reasons that inspired me to pen a few of my young adult novels.