THE ARRIVAL

THE ARRIVAL

What is it? 

Could it be...a new book?

Quite possibly. Only time will tell. More updates coming soon. 

Stay tuned.

ON PERSISTENCE

 

On Persistence

Readers often ask if I have a pet, so I thought I'd introduce the newest addition to my family...Poppy. She's wearing her festive paper crown from the holidays, just in case you are wondering!

Poppy came from an animal shelter in Scotland. She is seven years old, and she has been through a lot. Her original owner died, and she had a very difficult time bouncing back from that big loss. When we rescued her a year ago, right before the holidays, she was a mess.

Back then, we didn't know anything about caring for a sad and sickly little dog because my husband Mike and I had never owned a dog before. And she didn't know how to love a different owner because she'd never had one before. 

All of us had a LOT to learn.

Poppy peed on our carpets, barked at our friends, barfed on our beds, refused to walk on a lead, and shivered like a terrified leaf even when it wasn't cold. After several weeks, we were at our wit's end. We wanted to give up. 

But if there is one thing I have learned about myself as an author -- it is that I am ridiculously stubborn and persistent. I refuse to give up on a book, even when everything seems to be going wrong, and the task ahead seems impossible. I will spend hours trying to find the right sentence or the right scene. I will do as many as a dozen rewrites. One novel, Jump into the Sky, took me four years to finish.

If I could write books through tough times (pandemics, illness, grief...) and not give up, I could find a way to reach this crazy, sad, frustrating little dog. 

I would not quit...even if it took four years. That's what I told myself.

And slowly, the persistence began to pay off. Little by little, Poppy became less shy and shivery. She began to trust us. We were able to take her on car rides and walks, and she joined us on a few weekend trips. 

Just as book characters reveal themselves, little by little, we discovered new things about Poppy the more time we spent with her. I found out that she loves busy city walks and hopping up apartment steps and playing hide-and-seek with slippers. And just like my book characters -- she sometimes does something that surprises me (like patiently wearing an orange crown for a silly photo.)

So that's Poppy's story! We've just finished our first year together, and we're working on the next chapters.

OFFERING WINGS

These days, I'm a virtual author on the wild and windswept coast of Scotland.

While visiting schools via a computer screen definitely has its limits, I always try to see the screen as a portal...rather than a wall. During a typical visit, I often start out by giving students a glimpse of rural Scotland where I currently live and work -- a land of poets and unicorns -- and yes, miles of rocky coastline (see above). 

From there, I might take students on a virtual journey to see the real Hampton's Throne in Washington, D.C. (The Seventh Most Important Thing). Or we might visit the Cleveland, Ohio neighborhood that inspired All of the Above. Or we might preview the amazing works of land art around the world connected to Things Seen From Above.  Finally, we make the return flight to their own classroom...wherever it may be in the world...for a cozy Q&A chat.   

Last week, I virtually visited with middle school students in rural Wisconsin. They had just finished my novel, The Seventh Most Important Thing. Afterwards, I received a lovely note from the school's librarian who thanked me for opening up the world to her students and giving them wings. 

I loved that comment. 

Giving them wings...

Like many authors and educators, I've wrestled with what role to play in the challenging times we are living through today. Compassion, tolerance, justice, fairness, kindness, openness, and acceptance of our shared humanity -- these are the bedrock themes of my novels and my life. The themes haven't changed since my very first stories written as a thirteen-year old growing up in 1970s Ohio.

As I've watched these closely-held values come under siege in the US and around the world, I've wondered what to say and write on a daily basis. Especially for kids. 

Which is why I'm indebted to the Wisconsin librarian for pointing out that hope is not lost. We still have tools in our toolbox. We still have wings. James Hampton expresses a similar idea in The Seventh Most Important Thing when he says, "It all depends on the wings."

Although my words can't change very much in terms of the enormous issues kids and schools--and our world--are facing right now, I can take students on a journey for an hour. Through writing, through art, through words, through shared laughter, through conversation, through virtual flybys around the world -- we can still soar.

That's my mission as an author.

To give you wings.

A Mythical Land

I've been thinking about my grandpa who took up painting when he retired. I keep one of his works of art in my office to remind me that you are never too old to learn something new. And also, because I love looking at the soft, imaginary world he created and imagining his gentle spirit being there -- in a land of mythical snow-capped peaks and impossibly blue rivers. 

Over the summer, I've been taking a few art classes myself -- dabbling in pastels, watercolor, charcoal, and portraiture at a local art gallery tucked above an antiques store in Castle Douglas, Scotland. (I've shared a view I sketched of the main street from the studio window). 

What I like most about doing art is how it creates a spirit of "flow" in my soul. I lose track of time and place and all the worries that constantly cycle through my mind -- and just focus on what I'm making.

I believe that having access to these creative experiences -- the arts -- are critical for all of us as human beings. Creativity helps us process those too-big emotions, make sense of the world around us, connect with each other, share our common humanity -- and sometimes, the arts help us "escape" and relax. 

In two of my books, The Seventh Most Important Thing and Things Seen From Above, art is central to the story and helps to save the main characters in different ways. As James Hampton says in The Seventh Most Important Thing, art is about creating beauty from the broken things...

If you are looking for ways to bring more creativity into your classroom this school year, please feel free to visit my website for ideas, as well as find more information on my books and 2024-2025 virtual programs. www.shelleypearsall.com

Growing Beyond the Book

Is a book a permanent object? Or does it change and grow with each reader?  

Maybe this is a radical idea, but I believe a book is an ever-changing thing. As an author, my job is to plant the first seeds -- that's it. Then I let the story go. As each reader brings their own experiences, emotions, and imagination to the page -- my book and its characters always evolve and change and grow. 

Although it doesn't happen often, sometimes I get the chance to see how the seeds of my stories take root with readers and grow in wonderfully-new and unexpected directions. Earlier this year, the fifth graders in Mrs. Cohn's class at Dunwoody Elementary in Georgia read my novel, The Seventh Most Important Thing and gave me a glimpse into their own impressions.

After finishing the book, they created works of art inside plastic lightbulbs to share their personal connections with the themes of the novel (which is based on a real artist who used lightbulbs to create his own museum masterpiece). 

One student used orange and yellow paper inside his lightbulb to recreate the eternal flame of JFK's memorial which he connected to the book's theme of grief and healing. Another student managed to fit a tiny clock into her lightbulb because "time is the reason why we age and to me that is important." 

Others included water and soil and plants -- the vital building blocks that sustain our lives on this fragile planet we call home. Other readers turned their lightbulbs into airplanes and angels and dreams for the future. The lightbulb pictured above is designed to represent how "ideas can grow into beautiful things" and to "show the beauty of creativity."

Pretty incredible connections and creativity, right? That's what happens when books (and readers) are allowed to grow. 

Thanks to Dunwoody Elementary's fifth graders for sharing your creativity with me!  

Virtual Author Visits from Our Scottish Barn

 

My virtual author visits are in full swing for the 2023-24 school year. It has been fantastic to chat with classes in New York, Ohio, and New Jersey so far. And Mariemont Schools were the FIRST to virtually visit my new hayloft studio in Scotland last week.

If you look closely at the photo, you can probably spot the little window above the glass archway--that's my hayloft writer's studio. Our new/old house in Scotland is a former barn from the late 1700s. It has been a hayloft, a henhouse, a stable for horses...and now, an author's house. As you can probably tell, the walls are made of stone. (Yes, I'll confess that I like to imagine the space as a castle...) This part of Scotland once had large granite quarries, and many of the buildings are made of granite. In fact, granite from here was shipped all over the world.

Although I'm based in Scotland, never fear...I'm still scheduling virtual visits with US-based schools. Remember that if your school is doing an all-school read of one of my books, you can get a free virtual visit after your school has completed the book. 

I also have a brand-new Author Mentorship program for individual classrooms where I'll present a virtual writing workshop, a Q&A session, and then, every student can get personal, written feedback on a piece of writing from me. If your students are reading The Seventh Most Important Thing, I also have a new workshop called "Hampton's Throne Speaks" where we create a character from the artwork itself. A great lesson in personification and brainstorming! 

You can find out more details about both of these programs on the school visits page of my website: Shelley Pearsall School Visits

Thank you for reading my books, whether you are near...or far away. Feel free to reach out through my website if you have any questions. 

LOOKING FOR THE MAGIC

There is no doubt that the last three years have changed all of us. Made us face our own mortality. Made us realize what really matters...and what doesn't. Made us discover new sides of who we are -- while, at the same time, pushing us to the limits of what we thought we could endure. Speaking for myself, the last three years have also made me realize it was time for a change. A big change.

I'm not unfamiliar with changing my life. I did it quite often in my twenties and thirties. I moved a half-dozen times. Tried out multiple jobs. Went back to school to become a teacher. Quit teaching and sold everything I owned in order to have an uninterrupted year to write a book (which became Trouble Don't Last)...

But in recent years, it became easier not to change. To stay put. To keep doing what was working. To drive the same roads. To look at the same familiar scenery. 

However, creativity doesn't thrive in the familiar or the routine. Ideas don't sprout from the roadsides you've driven on a thousand times before. It needs adventure, inspiration, interaction, challenge, serendipity, magic...

And so, earlier this year, my husband Mike and I decided to move to a new place. Well, not just a new place...but a new COUNTRY. A place where we would have to learn everything all over again, except the language. A place where we'd be forced to make new friends and try new things. 

In May, we moved to a renovated stone barn, with eaves full of swallows and hillsides dotted with sheep, in southwest Scotland. 

Why Scotland? Although it is a place that has inspired countless artists and writers over the centuries...and given birth to wizards named Harry Potter and fictional islands of treasure...my reasons for landing here were more personal... 

I chose to move to Scotland because this was the place where I found the magic and the words again, the ones I feared the pandemic had erased forever. There was magic in the tiny striped snail living in my crooked doorway. The small and delicate deer that somehow sailed over four foot stone walls into the garden. The mysterious cat who would appear and disappear in an eye-blink. The waterfalls that burbled out of nowhere in the mossy-green woods.  For all those reasons and more.

I hope you'll enjoy this next chapter with me. Stay tuned. (And yes -- I will be making return visits to Ohio, my home state.)

Teaching Ideas for Things Seen From Above

 

SURVIVING THE PANDEMIC ONE BOOK AT A TIME

True Confessions:  I didn't write the title of this blog post.  It was the slogan of a group of 4th and 5th grade readers in Traverse City, Michigan.  In March, I was the virtual author for their virtual Battle of the Books Grand Traverse competition.  An amazing SIXTY teams competed in this year's battle which was anything but typical.  Teams read nine novels.  They practiced virtually and competed on-screen in a battle that tested their knowledge of all of the novels...and their skills with the mute button! http://battleofthebooksgt.com/

Each team had a name -- and trust me, these were NOT ordinary names.  How about "Book, Line, and Sinker?" or "Where the Wild Books Are" or "Little Readers in the Big Books."  The kids had creative costumes and slogans.  And they created the big snow art designs you see below, inspired by my new novel, THINGS SEEN FROM ABOVE which was a battle book.

It was an epic experience for me and an epic example of the power of books. When I think about the things that have helped us get through the pandemic -- these are the moments and experiences that come to mind.  Enjoy these photos of book joy!

 

THE VIRTUAL AUTHOR

Two years ago, it was the hopeful faces online that kept me going. 

When my entire speaking schedule in Spring 2018 was cancelled by my breast cancer diagnosis and treatment, I went virtual instead.  A screen became my audience. Skype replaced the cafeteria stage.

To keep things simple, I donated the virtual visits.  Schools knew that if my hair fell out from chemo…or if I had an unexpected doctor’s appointment…or if I just wasn’t up to talking—their visit wouldn’t happen.  Everything was “subject to change without notice.”  They were okay with that.
 
Fortunately, my hair stayed intact, and the virtual visits saved my sanity.  They gave me a schedule and a reason to get up every day.  Kids wore pink t-shirts.  They held up signs of hope and encouragement.  They made me believe that life would get better someday—and it did. 

One of the biggest surprises was the realization that I could still reach readers through a screen.  With a little practice and creativity, it was possible to keep being the interactive, thoughtful (and slightly random) author/presenter that I am. 

Then came Spring 2020 and the COVID outbreak demolished everything again.  I’ll admit that it felt like an awful kind of déjà vu.

But this time it wasn’t just me sitting at home worrying that I might die from a dread disease – it was the kids too.   I spread the word that I would donate virtual visits to any school group anywhere in April and May. 

I’ll never forget those first Zooms and Google Meets. Kids joined from living rooms, unfinished attics, closets, stairwells, and kitchen tables.  They appeared with homemade slime, family pets, and screaming siblings.  Some kids floated in blue galaxies or tropical forest backgrounds.  Others had their family seated around them like a solemn portrait.

Despite the challenges, these impromptu visits actually worked.  (A ton of credit goes to the parents, librarians, and teachers who made them happen.)  I was able to chat with kids about books and brainstorm characters with them. Virtual classes “toured” my office. We shared what we were going through and the various ways we were coping.  As I’d discovered two years earlier, there is something to be said for being there for each other in tough times. 

And as the school year starts at home again for many kids, I’m determined to keep stretching the virtual learning limits: Can we compose poetry on Zoom? Can we use our closets/attics/kitchens for writing inspiration? Can we create fictional characters from shoes?  Can we build stuff onscreen? (Tetrahedron pyramids for All of the Above? Mini-sculptures for The Seventh Most Important Thing?)

I believe that creativity and joy, even the virtual kind, will keep us going. 

I’m proof of that.

Teachers, librarians, and parents: If you are interested in finding out more about my 2020-21 virtual programs (some free and some fee-based) for your students, please check them out on my website or reach out to me at shelleyvisits@yahoo.com.

Spiraling Out The Sadness

SPIRALING OUT THE SADNESS

There is no question that we are living through very tough times right now.  COVID-19 has overturned our world.  The challenges of uncertainty, isolation, illness, and loss have touched every age group, everywhere. 

What can we do to cope?

In my latest book THINGS SEEN FROM ABOVE, the main character of Joey Byrd creates giant spirals in the playground dirt as a way to deal with his sadness and isolation—an idea inspired by my own nephew. 

“You think of something sad and you start walking,” Joey Byrd says.  “Then you think of more sad things and you walk…and you just keep walking…until the sad things finally go away.” (p. 114).

It isn’t such a crazy idea.  For centuries, spirals and labyrinths have helped to calm the mind.  My nephew called it “spiraling out the sadness.”  While working on the book last year, I met other kids and adults who used similar strategies to cope, including the amazing sand artist Marc Treanor.  Check out his work below. 

Sand labyrinth by Marc Treanor sandcircles.co.uk

The power of art is a theme you’ll find in a lot of my work. In THE SEVENTH MOST IMPORTANT THING, the artist character of James Hampton creates a visionary box made from things that he scavenges on the war-torn island of Guam. He calls it “Death and War turned into something beautiful.” (p.170) In ALL OF THE ABOVE, the teenage characters use art (and math!) to survive.

Like the characters in my books, I’ve used art and writing to help me cope with my emotions since I was a kid.  During COVID-19, I’ve followed Joey Byrd’s advice to “walk until the sadness goes away.” 

So far, I’ve logged more than 300 miles.

There’s no question that we have a lot of sadness to “spiral out” these days.  It is important to let it out. Draw it. Sing it. Write it. Chalk it. Spiral it. Paint it. Dance it. Walk it.  Make labyrinths out of clay, stones, sand, and chalk – even yarn. Learn more here.  Fill a playground-- or a beach—or a piece of paper—with your feelings. 

Know that you are not alone. 

Journals: Life Preservers in Scary Times

I’ve kept a journal off and on for more than 40 years.  My first one, in 1977, had a tiny gold lock and key.  I was a sixth grader at the time.  Back then, it was my daily log of events—the place where I recorded everything from Browns’ football scores—to the deadly Ohio blizzard of ’78 which was considered one of the worst in U.S. history (you can read about at the end of this post.).

But it was also my personal sounding board – the place where I poured out my loneliness, my frequent illnesses (yes, I was one of those sickly kids) – and the embarrassing fact that an overnight Girl Scout camp-out scared me so much I cried myself to sleep. 

I spoke to it like a close friend—even apologizing to it for skipped days or dull entries. “Not very exciting today--sorry,” I’d write.  But it never judged.  I could scribble TERRIBLE DAY! (see below)  and it would understand.

That little journal with the gold lock and key was my faithful listener and my sounding board as a kid. Now, as we face the COVID-19 crisis in our world today, keeping a journal continues to be a really important source of comfort and calm for me.

I encourage everyone to give it a try -- no matter what age you are.  Your journal doesn’t need to be anything fancy.  (Right now, I’m using one of my stepson’s old middle school notebooks that I dug out of a box for recycling.  It had a lot of unused pages.  I'm not sure what that says about his work habits…)

There are no rules for how much to write or how often.  Or how neatly. Or how grammatically correct to be. Remember the journal doesn't judge. 

Just write.

Encourage kids and teens in your family or classroom to keep their own journals.  Their reactions to the COVID-19 crisis may be very different than your own. They may want to stick to the facts. Or ignore them.  Or complain about the lack of snacks & decent WiFi in the house--or about you (I did that a lot in my 6th grade journal...). Or they may want to draw and doodle instead.  

Drawing in a journal is okay too!

Let your journal hold you up in this ocean of uncertainty—and let it remind you that someday this will all be in the past, like the long ago Blizzard of '78, and we will be able to look back through the pages to remember how strong we were and what got us through.

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words (Or More)

Yes, a picture is worth a thousand words—or sometimes, a book.

About seven years ago, the photo you see posted above took my breath away.  It provoked so many conflicting emotions.  I remember feeling both joy and heartbreak the first time I saw it.  First, there was the whimsical and funny face in the playground dirt—and then there was the lonely little boy in the red jacket lying in the middle of it.

 

I happen to know the boy in the red jacket very well.  He is my nephew—a thoughtful, smart, and sensitive kid named Miles.

Seven years ago when this photo was snapped at recess, he was a fourth grader—and his loneliness is palpable.  Except for the older classmate who took the photo, and a recess aide watching the scene, there is no one else around.

When I show this photo to school audiences, I always get an immediate reaction. Depending on how students relate to the photo, they might call it sad, creative, lonely, unique, awesome, cool, odd, mysterious, scary, or confusing…

And everyone wants to know the story behind it.  

So did I. 

And that is how my new book, Things Seen From Above, began.

Over time, it shifted from being a story about my nephew—to a book for all of those lonely kids on the fringes of our playgrounds, our schools, our classrooms—kids who have unique and special gifts we don’t always see until (and unless) we change how we look at them.

The photo also led me to some totally unexpected places: a windswept beach in Wales, a brick labyrinth in Michigan, the top of Seattle’s Space Needle, Stonehenge, and more…

The book took longer than expected to write…as books often do.  (My nephew is in high school now!)  But the story that started with a blurry cellphone picture snapped on an elementary school playground is finally almost here. Publication date: February 4.  

Yes, a picture can equal a thousand words…or a book.

Writing with Your Halloween Candy

Are you more like candy corn or lifesavers?  I ask students this question in one of my writing workshops. 

It is a way to get kids to think more creatively—more imaginatively—more divergently—which (if you haven’t met me) is a “soap box” issue of mine.  I talk about it constantly.  It keeps me awake at night.  Because I truly believe our students won’t be able to solve the extremely challenging problems of the future if we don’t work on developing their creative thinking skills today.

So, if you are a teacher (or just a random person reading this blog) and you are staring at that large bowl of candy that you weren’t able to hand out last week because of the inclement weather (okay, gale-force winds and rain) that blanketed much of the country on Halloween – try this out:

Which candy are you most like?  Least like?  Why?

You can write about it. Talk about it. Turn it into a poem.  If you teach school, have your students bring in a piece of candy from their Halloween stash—the candy that most represents/ reflects them.  Not their favorite one. Not the one they’d most like to eat.  The one that is most like them.  Have them write about it, talk about it, turn it into poem…

Here’s mine: 

I’m a pack of lifesavers, mostly sturdy and strong. Except for the hole in the middle of who I am.  That’s where the loved ones I’ve lost used to be.  But around those empty spaces are determined circles of sweetness.  And color. And resilience.  That’s who I am.  I go on.

(You can also choose candy for some of the great characters in children’s literature: What candy would be Harry Potter? Or Hermione?)

Your turn.