A Writer’s Life – Karen Cushman

Becoming Californians

Karen Cushman — Tue, 10 Dec 2019 14:15:32 +0000

My father loved California and the
Heat.
He’d do cannonballs
Into the neighbors swimming pool
And float with only his nose,
His belly, and his toes
Above the water.

My mother sat in the shade.
With the other wives.
They drank martinis,
Painted their toenails,
And talked about womanly things.

My brother was as pale and thin
As a wisp of smoke
But he could run like the wind.
He found three boys his age
In our new neighborhood
And played basketball and baseball,
Or just ran, fast as he could,
Animated by youth and happiness
And friends.

I was the oldest girl
By far
In the neighborhood,
A block full of babies and
Boys.

I’d swim 100 laps because I could
And because it pleased my father
And then escape inside,
Put lotion on my sunburned nose,
And read.

I was more lonely than I knew.
The loneliness came in flashes
And I swallowed it inside.
I was out of place, not good enough,
Strange and foreign,
Marked like the laundry my Irish mother
Didn’t get clean enough,
Like I, too, should be hanging on the attic,
God’s attic.

My uncle Stooge’s pigeons could go far away
and still find their way home
But not me.

So I read.
And I wrote.
I wondered and remembered,
Told myself stories I needed to hear,
Stories where I was the hero, the star,
The popular girl, the tap dancer
Or the opera singer.
Stories where I wore tight skirts and black flats
Like the other girls
Instead of brown oxfords and
Puffed sleeves.

I learned the joy of making things up.

I wrote about outsiders,
Like Santa Claus going down the wrong chimney
On Christmas Eve
And finding himself in a Jewish home.
I wrote about the handsomest boy in school
Falling in love with the shy, bookish girl.
And I wrote about masks,
And painted faces,
And swallowing feelings.

Writing was a place to put my sadness
And my joys,
My fears
And tenuous hopes.

Writing saved my life and
Made me who I am.

A Terrific Shard

Karen Cushman — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 14:28:26 +0000

Last night Philip and I went to 12th-century Korea, care of the amazing Seattle Children’s Theater‘s production of A Single Shard. It was an extra special treat to sit next to the books’ author, Linda Sue Park, and watch her face as she watched the play. I know from experience the awe you feel at seeing your characters and your words live on the stage. Too bad you can’t all get to Seattle to see the play—I would have given you lunch—but you can read the Newbery winning book, the tale of an orphaned boy who achieves his dreams through friendship, persistence, and courage.

Battle of the Books

Karen Cushman — Fri, 25 Feb 2011 00:52:20 +0000

What do Karen Hesse, R.L Stine, Adam Rex, and I have in common? That’s right. Along with eleven other writers for children and young adults, I am a judge for the 2011 School Library Journal’s Battle of the Kids’ Books, a competition pitting sixteen of the very best books for young people against each other. I ‘m sorry that one book winning means fifteen books not winning, but I’m excited to see what these fabulous authors have to say about some wonderful books. I of course have my favorites and am crossing my fingers one or more of them make it to the finals when Richard Peck, the Big Kahuna, will select the winner. Hurry over to sljbattleofthebooks.com and be part of it.

Sheepdog Trials Return to Vashon Island

Karen Cushman — Tue, 05 Oct 2010 00:38:10 +0000

At last the sheepdog trials have returned to Vashon Island. I spent the day before my birthday lolling ion a hillside watching border collies herd sheep from one end of a field to the other. I love it. People show up with dogs and kids and picnic lunches and we all clap loudly when a dog manages to move the sheep through one set of gates or another.

Fortunately I remembered my camera. Unfortunately it didn’t work. Leah took these photos on her cellphone. The dog was watching the action intently. To see a dog and sheep in the other photo, you’ll need a microscope. Oh well.

Thank You, Chauni Haslet

Karen Cushman — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 00:32:26 +0000

Chauni Haslet

All for Kids was one of those great stores that had nearly any book a child could want, a few for their parents, and a staff that new everything—absolutely everything—about children’s books. Want a book about a squirrel? Here it is. Or a fantasy about snake charmers and evil wizards? Right there. It was a pleasure to shop there and, for us writers, to speak and sign there. Sigh. The store is no more. The owner, the gracious and generous Chauni Haslet, retired last year. Now she and her husband Bill travel and give great parties, like the one we went to last weekend. I had not only the pleasure of seeing Chauni and Bill again but Laura Kvasnosky was there. And Gloria Rand. And George Shannon. I love to meet and talk with other writers. We’re all in this lovely and somewhat leaky boat together. If you have a children’s bookstore in your town, go and buy a book there. Support it in every way you can. You will absolutely miss it if it goes away. Thank you, Chauni, for being there. You are sorely missed.

Connecting Children to Historical Fiction

Karen Cushman — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 23:28:48 +0000

Catherine, Called Birdy

Vicki Palmquist of Winding Oak asked me an intriguing question the other day: When you are writing historical fiction, do you worry about today’s child making a connection to earlier times? Do you make a particular effort to provide a connection?

I told her, no, I just write to tell a story, the best story I can. I think each reader will make connections in his or her (mostly her) own way. And sometimes they’re surprising. I had a five-year old tell me The Midwife’s Apprentice was a story about a cat. And a woman in Pennsylvania says she gave Catherine Called Birdy to a young girl who was hospitalized after a suicide attempt. After finishing the book, the girl called crying and said she felt exactly like Catherine, that she too had few options and opportunities but would figure out how she could survive and thrive, just like Catherine. Wow. That was a connection I could never have imagined.

My Valentine

Karen Cushman — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 15:47:14 +0000

Inspired by the example of my friend Kirby Larson who posted her prom picture on her blog, and being that it’s Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d share a photo of me and the love of my life. It’s not a prom picture—I wasn’t lucky enough to know Phil that long ago—but was taken a couple of days after our wedding in 1969. Forty years ago. We do look a little different now but we’re much smarter. So Happy Valentine’s Day to Philip, also called Philadelphia or Philbert or Philodendron or Philabuster, depending on my mood, but never Dr. Phil.