My world of books, part II

Posted on March 1, 2011 by sheilawill

In another lifetime, picture books dominated my life. When Brook and Ethan were little, reading aloud  to them shaped our days: special mom and daughter time, special mom and daughter and son time after Ethan’s nap/with popcorn, bedtime reading, reading at Oz Books whenever the kids were there with me.

“Born at sea in the teeth of a gale, the sailor was a dog. Scuppers was his name,” one of Ethan’s favorite lines from “Sailor Dog” by Margaret Wise Brown. “Happy winter rise and shine, I love the early morning time. Two bugs in a rug…” one of Brook’s favorite lines from “Happy Winter” by Karen Gundersheimer. (We always made happy winter fudge cake for her birthday).

And mine, “A good man a good life,” from “Island Boy” by Barbara Cooney, or almost any line from William Steig’s gems. Real philosophy and glorious illustrations. Laughter. Oh those books, watching my kids faces as I read them, getting to know the authors, some of whom became dear friends.

Barbara Cooney’s love of Maine history and her feistiness. The glorious palette of blues and purples in her Damariscotta garden. “I need the quiet to restore my creativity,” she would tell me. I didn’t know much about quiet in those days as a young mother and a bookstore owner, but she was always one of my role models.

Today the phone rang at work. One of my favorite children’s authors and an old friend was on the other end of the line, 3,000 miles away. We had the wrong email addresses for each other and hadn’t gotten together since the last time I was in New York. We’re going to have lunch on my next trip in April.

Picture books may have only 32 pages but they really never end.

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My world of books, part I

Posted on February 26, 2011 by sheilawill

It’s been a long time since I attended my last American Booksellers Association convention (now called BookExpo America), which always felt like four or five days without sleep, partying, and non-stop book talk. I loved it.

Those were the days when wining and dining by publishers took place because I was on the board of the Association of Booksellers for Children. I remember jumping up and down at an intimate concert performed by Sweet Honey in the Rock, shaking Jimmy Carter’s hand telling him that history would vindicate him — not that his books were much good.

Any real expertise I’ve had was in children’s books. Since I closed Oz Books in 1997, I’ve been out of the loop. I ran into a local Young Adult children’s author the other day who told me I must read “Speak” by Laurie Halse Anderson. YA books aren’t as “nicey-nice” as they used to be, the author said.

Think I’ll write about that. More important, it seems like I’m coming full circle cultivating a renewed interest in YA books, promoting book events at the upcoming Tucson Festival of Books.

Only two more weeks to go! I’ll be moderating “Right On! Far Out! Looking Back at the ’60s” on Sunday, March 13 at 10 a.m. in the Gallagher Theater on the University of Arizona campus. The space seats 340 folks and C-SPAN Book TV will broadcast the panel. Cool huh?

Panel members include my pal Martha Tod Dudman, Joyce Maynard, and Mark Rudd. To be sure, an irreverent ’60s bunch.

Their that-was another-lifetime titles include Martha’s “Expecting to Fly: A Sixties Reckoning,” which has one of the greatest scenes ever. Her present self meets college-age Martha running across an Ohio campus  and asks her what it’s all about.

“Underground: My Life with SDS and the Weathermen” by Mark Rudd takes me back to my own cautious role in the takeover of the administration building at the University of Connecticut in 1968. Hell, I was shy and afraid but had to do something to voice my displeasure about the university supporting the Vietnam War through ROTC and funding from warmongering corporations.

Joyce Maynard’s “At Home in the World: A Memoir” picks up where her classic (to me) “Looking Back: A Chronicle of Growing Up Old in the Sixties” left off. Published when she was 19, the book grew out of a piece that appeared in the New York Times Magazine and spoke to me nearly 40 years ago.

I’m excited about these folks coming to Tucson for the book festival, now the fourth largest in the United States after only two years. I may check out a Kindle, Nook, iPad and other such reading devices at one of the festival booths.

The 1960s stand out as a central time in my life, and the printed pages of books illuminate it all.

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Let’s stand for the right (left) side of history

Posted on February 20, 2011 by sheilawill

If I had been alive in Eastern Europe during World War II and the Holocaust I would be dead today, simply because I’m Jewish. I didn’t have relatives who were killed during that tragic time in history, but a shadow of paranoia still remains.

Yet I don’t understand Holocaust survivors who worry that another Holocaust is on its way. All Jews should have guns to defend themselves, I’ve heard. (I do live in Arizona where everyone has guns but Jews too?)

Five thousand years of anti-Semitism will not subside anytime soon is another lament I’ve heard. Other Holocaust survivors insist that times have changed, it’s the 21st century and we must learn to combat anti-Semitism and other injustices without violence.

Take Egypt’s recent youth uprising that ran a decades-entrenched dictator out of town. Ok, so Mubarak took off to his luxurious seaside villa and didn’t leave the country; maybe that was the deal he made. He said he wanted to die on Egyptian soil.

Now other primarily Muslim countries led by super-wealthy dictators are experiencing protests, such as Bahrain, Algeria and Libya This is an exciting time.

The first ouster of an Arab dictator, Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali on Jan. 14 in Tunisia, didn’t happen because of violence, suicide bombers or the like. When Mohamed Bouazazi set fire to himself he shamed the Tunisian government. The uprising has been called “The Dignity Revolution.”

What we witnessed in Egypt was another “Dignity Revolution.” Fear abounds about what will happen next, how the military will transfer power to the people (Right On!). Supporters of Israel worry that Arab nations will overthrow their governments and band together to destroy the Jewish state.

But this is a nationalist movement. The Egyptian people want justice and equality, opportunities to succeed that support a decent lifestyle. Let’s not make the same mistake we made in Vietnam, focusing on some scary ideological bent — then the label was “Communist” today it’s Islamist — but consider basic human desires. Here’s to more dignity revolutions!

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Why do things happen the way they do?

Posted on February 12, 2011 by sheilawill

I was ready for bed. Washed my face, brushed my teeth. Better check nytimes.com one more time. Who knows what might have happened?

There it is. A story about a Brooklyn man who went on a stabbing rampage tonight. Frightens me because my 30-year-old son, Ethan, now lives in Brooklyn. The suspect’s name sounds Russian. I scan the article for names of the victims. Ethan speaks Russian, I think to myself, for no apparent reason.

Geez, I hope they catch this guy so he doesn’t hurt any other innocent people.(As sad as any crime is I’m a mother so I’m relieved when my grown-up kids appear to be safe).

I scan to the bottom of the story and there it is: Ethan Wilensky-Lanford contributed reporting.

Ethan is a stringer at the Times metro desk. He has been on and off for about six years, while he was getting his master’s degree in journalism at Columbia, and in Central Asia.

Not unusual but a giant coincidence!

And get this, Ethan just sent an email saying he’s heading back to “Little Russia” tomorrow to do a follow-up.

Oh my god, can you believe it?

Makes me think (so many things do). All of a sudden Egypt is without its dictator of the last 30 years. My day as a journalist/assistant editor of the Arizona Jewish Post landed me two stimulating and moving interviews. But that’s another story, actually two stories that I’ll start writing at work on Monday.

Love to Ethan. Down with crime. Up with freedom and joy to Egyptians and unhappy people in Brooklyn.

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To gray or not to gray?

Posted on February 11, 2011 by sheilawill

A biggie. A lingering question. Sort of like what would I do if if  I won the lottery (I only bought a ticket once and since I didn’t win I never bought another)?

What’s the best way to spend my aging years? Tomorrow I’ll interview two local women who have started a blog on the subject. So far, I’m not overwhelmed about aging but maybe if I so obviously looked older…a friend who remembers my wild gray hair of a decade ago told me it was beautiful. My kids liked it better too.

Dan recently sent me a piece about graying, reminding me of the chemicals that seep into my scalp every month, let alone the money that seeps from my wallet to pay for it!

I erroneously thought the only way to go natural was the skunk look, with roots growing out over many months, which would mean wearing a self-conscious scarf. But no, there’s a reversing process that would take salon visits for about a year-and-a-half. After that, it’s save, save, save, no more monthly expensive goop threatening my long-term health!

Why haven’t I decided yet? There are questions that I can’t answer right away. Take the lottery. If I had a bunch of money would I spend it on art, exotic trips or more massages and pedicures? Certainly not on clothes.

I’d start a foundation, giving money to leftist causes. Start my own causes. Help education.

But when I think about it, all that money, when it comes right down to it, here’s the best advice I can give myself: Talk to people. Find out what’s going on. Embrace change, because I can’t stop it.

But still, what to do about my hair?

 

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Non-violence works

Posted on February 5, 2011 by sheilawill

I got caught up in the Egyptian struggle, first because of Ethan. But then it dawned on me — hundreds of thousands of people who want a say in their government are showing up in the streets. And they’re not going to leave until they get what they want.

I’m feeling the wave of change in the Arab/Muslim world. I’ve learned from Ethan that people are people wherever you go. Just like Newfoundlanders in the 1970s always asked if I was afraid to walk down the street in an American city, and if all Americans were zonked out on drugs most of the time, I understand that no culture perfectly fits any stereotype.

Wonderful Maine neighbors have said that Pakistan is the most lawless, violent country in the world, while a dear friend who traveled deep into the Pakistani mountains to head a school, said she met the friendliest, kindest people there.

It doesn’t do any good to assume we know what any country is like. I imagined that two older women from Tucson, who were caught in Egypt’s upheaval, would just talk about how frightened they were. They were both spunky and engaged in the politics of the Egyptian mass movement.

Maybe I’m the one who’s frightened. I’ve been to very few other countries. And if hundreds of thousands of people were willing to give up everything in their thirst for a voice, even when Mubarak dispersed his “thugs” into a reportedly  non-violent crowd, that’s inspiring.

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Happy mama, indeed

Posted on January 28, 2011 by sheilawill

They say that siblings experience the longest relationship in life. That’s true, but parents inhabit their children’s psyches, and their DNA, forever.

My dear son, Ethan, who turned 30 earlier this month, arrived in Tucson last night. He’s finishing a freelance Russian editing job this morning, and I’ve had the pleasure of replenishing his freshly squeezed grapefruit juice, catching as many glimpses of my handsome son as possible.

I’m a lucky mama. We’ve had our difficult moments, but my kids and I like each other a lot, enjoy each other’s company, have similar interests — such as writing and politics. Laughing together is the best.

Very soon Ethan and I will venture into the Tucson sunshine, probably not hiking today but sauntering over to the UA campus, see what’s happening with the college crowd. Should be entertaining for Ethan to see all the blond co-eds in their short shorts and UGG boots.

My parents are still with me, even though my father died in 1969 and my mother died in 1986. I like to think that my mother and I would have gotten along better now, that I wouldn’t have felt so pressured by her to do this or that — marry a Jewish man, become a teacher (which I finally did), cut my bangs and let my pretty ears show under all that hair (she actually did say that). I was often angry at her; I’ll bet I was angry with myself. I’m not sure why.

My father was a sweet man who often called me “sweetheart.” I was only 22 when he died, just getting started as my own person in the world.

I’d like to have a grandchild someday. It’s one of those life experiences that seems transcendental. Mostly, I want to see Brook and Ethan relaxed and happy in their own lives. They’re on their way. It sure took me a long time to stroll down that path, but they’re both way ahead of me, knowing who they are at a young age.

I’m eternally grateful that Brook and Ethan get along so well. I’m also grateful to have such amazing parent substitutes in my life, Dan’s folks, Jackie and Bill. They’re excellent role models as I get old(er), striving to be a menschette (female of mensch, or good person).

Even though I’m far from my east coast grown-up children. I clearly did the right thing by moving to Tucson eight years ago. Sunshine has a lot to do with my equilibrium, so let’s get out there Eth!

 

 

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A dancer’s art

Posted on January 27, 2011 by sheilawill

I had heard about Anna Halprin from my ex-husband, Henry. In his younger days he considered joining her dance troupe, leaping and cavorting on the California shore. That was in the 60s, before I knew him.

On Sunday I told the now 90-year-old iconic dancer about Henry. I couldn’t help myself. I don’t think she remembered him but she was gracious. I had just finished viewing “Breath Made Visible: Revolution in Dance,” a documentary spanning decades of her lifelong love affair with movement.

Her approach to dance was solely her own. Halprin recalled a stint in New York City as a young woman wanting to try the latest in modern dance, but the uniformity of style was not her thing. She noticed that everyone in Martha Graham’s company looked like Graham.Why wouldn’t they want to look like themselves?

“I will not bow down to a golden image,” Halprin said to herself and went west with her husband, Larry. That was in the 1960s. The next time she performed in NYC was in 2002, when she was 82.

I could see the little girl in her face as she bopped around the stage wearing sneakers on her feet, not telling, but energizing her life story.  I could do that, I thought to myself, intrigued.

“When I’m 100,” she said, “I’ll dance the essence of things and when I’m 110, I’ll dance the way things really are.” Halprin explained that when she was 40, “I danced for social justice and peace.” There she was with a huge Afro hairdo, rolling around on the floor attempting to break down barriers between black and white. Raw emotion was the only choreographer.

One of her two daughters admitted that it was hard growing up with a completely different set of rules for art and life. I imagine there was a lot of free-spirited sexuality among the grown-up dancers — and the Halprin daughters still had to do their homework.

Halprin is a cancer survivor. “Before I had cancer,” she said, “I lived for art. After I had cancer [I used] my art for my life.”

Watching the film, as Halprin spoke of “feeling a sense of reverence for my beautiful old body,” I began to feel proud of mine. Watching her, I pledged to move mine more consciously,  and with the ultimate kindness.

After watching “Breath Made Visible” I wanted to dance.

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Striving for Sanity

Posted on January 22, 2011 by sheilawill

Aren’t we all striving for sanity in a crazy world? To me, the prevalence of guns in American society is insane. I don’t get the gun crowd but here’s one instance where I understand what the guy is saying, although I disagree with his view that “gun control is a failed social experiment, and it’s time to move on.”

Art is often at the forefront of change, and in this case a long-scheduled — now timely — Tucson exhibit, “Stop the Violence,” depicts weapons made by arranging human bones. Will the wanton violence in our society ever stop? Can it be reduced?

In the aftermath of the Tucson shooting tragedy efforts for some sort of gun control will pick up, then probably fade. In Arizona, Gov. Jan Brewer and Arizona Senate President Russell Pearce see no reason to reduce the sale of extended ammunition clips. But according to today’s Arizona Daily Star, “on this date in history, in Tucson, the sale of votive candles outpaced the sale of Glocks and extended clips 7-to-1.” Yay!

We cannot ignore rampant rage and over-the-top rhetoric that’s run amok during the past few years. More emphasis on recognizing signs of severe mental illness is necessary, which I hope points to an increase in awareness — and compassion — not fear.

Lumping everyone with mental disorders into one category is not the answer. There’s a big difference between our highly functional neighbors, friends and family members who get support and receive treatment through medication and/or therapy and someone like Jared Loughner, who seemed to become more and more psychotic and isolated over time.

I’m excited about a local program to help increase awareness about serious mental illness. But let me be clear: I’m a firm believer in the First Amendment, so how do we act legally to thwart someone like Loughner?

Times have changed. When I was a grad student in the early 1970s, I taught a psychology class at Northampton Junior College in Massachusetts. Taking my students on a “field trip” to the state mental hospital was a big mistake: Staring at people with vacant eyes, so drugged up that they appeared catatonic, was so wrong.

Luckily, millions of people who have serious mental illness now live productive, happy lives. More effective medications with fewer side affects help, as does education. Consider books like “An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness” (bipolar disorder) by Kay Redfield Jamison, or “The Center Will Not Hold: My Journey through Madness” (schizophrenia) by Elyn R. Saks. Both women have successful careers in the medical world.

In my view, reducing the stigma of mental illness should be the next civil rights movement. That doesn’t mean that seriously ill people like Jared Loughner should be ignored, on the contrary.

Join me. Find out about the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) in your community. We really are all in this together.

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Big sigh of relief

Posted on January 19, 2011 by sheilawill

It’s been a busy and difficult week. Gabby has opened both eyes and even given her husband, Mark Kelly, a back rub or a neck rub, depending on whether you believe the New York Times or the Arizona Daily Star. Me, I’ll always go for the NYT. Either way, good news indeed.

I’ve written a tame Arizona Jewish Post editorial — condemning ammunition that sprays 33 shots and questioning the prevalence of guns — including photos that I took this past week. Not bad either. I’m proud of my work. Not only did I write the editorial on MLK day, which I had off, I gave a talk on “A Life of Words” to a group of retirees last night. Went to work today after oversleeping — must have overused my brain yesterday. And tonight I taught my “Commitment to Remember” class with high school students and Holocaust survivors.

AND I have a new assignment that I’m excited about: I’ll be writing a piece for Publishers Weekly about the heyday of children’s bookselling in the 1990s. Former children’s bookseller friends around the country, I’ll be calling soon. You know who you are.

Yup, I’m proud. I’m also tired.

But here’s something I’m wondering about in the aftermath of the horrific shooting on Jan. 8: the language that’s become part of our daily lives. I’m not talking about all the vitriol, a good word we hardly ever heard before last week.

Just regular words. In Trader Joe’s on Sunday I noticed the sign above the fresh veggies: “Killer Veggies.” OK, it may not mean anything,  and I get that “killer” means cool or terrific, but still. Then there’s the “soccer shootout.” Or the excellent website “Killing the Buddha.” What do you think?

I’m going to watch “House” and have a Trader Joe’s soy-mini ice cream sandwich. Oh, first I must watch Mark Kelly’s first interview since Gabby was shot, and find out which newspaper was correct.

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