The TeachingBooks Blog
I'm a writer because I never had the Creative Writing Class. You know the one I mean, the one that exhorts, "Write what you know. Write from your own experience." If I'd been limited to writing what I know, I'd have produced in these past forty years one unpublishable haiku.
September 24th begins Banned Books Week—an annual celebration of the freedom to read organized by the American Library Association (ALA). In this month’s column, TeachingBooks.net presents multimedia resources on the 10 most frequently challenged books of the past year.
It has been both fun and challenging to tell the Spaceheadz story across media. Print is a controlled, linear form of storytelling. As the author, I control the pace of the story by its position on the page. In contrast, digital storytelling is a whole different form; different parts of the story can be accessed at different times and in different ways.
So I’ve been asked to talk about an element of writing my book, The Emerald Atlas, that I struggled with, and honestly, it’s hard to pick just one thing. I could talk about the number of times I pulled my hair out for imagining that I could write a mind-twisty time travel story. Or I could talk about the difficulty of working in a genre as well-established as children’s fantasy, a genre in which I would be using characters and tropes that readers had seen a thousand times before and it was my job to figure out how I was going to breath new life into those dusty conventions.
The seed for my newest young adult novel, This Thing Called the Future (Cinco Puntos, 2011), was planted five years ago when I was studying the Zulu language at a university in Pietermaritzburg, South Africa. The Zulu family I stayed with had two young teenage girls—thirteen and fourteen—who were incredibly hard-working girls and always respectful of their elders. Yet the thirteen year old got in trouble while I was there because she was caught kissing her boyfriend at church. Her boyfriend was a man in his thirties.
TeachingBooks.net is bringing summer reading 2011 to life. Whether you're promoting the program theme of One World, Many Stories, You are Here,Splash! Celebrate Summer, or another topic, the authors and illustrators presented in this month's column are bound to be on your list. From audio to video recordings, TeachingBooks.net has something for you.
Growing up in Mexico, I learned to speak the language of color at a very early age. “No dar color” is a popular expression that, translated, means an inability to give off color or emotion. Using color and texture helps me to express my identity, my heritage. I've also learned that color is the most direct (emotional) route to the children (and families) who turn the pages of the books I’ve illustrated.
Many of us have come to the field of education because of our own love of learning. But with all the daily demands on our time, it can be difficult to manage our teaching responsibilities and feed our professional passions.
Stones for my Father is a book I had been meaning to write for a long time. My mother’s family is South African and I have always wanted to explore that part of my history. I was also interested in the Anglo-Boer War. To me, it is one of the most fascinating and overlooked conflicts of the twentieth century. 
When we stop to listen, poetry is all around us: in the rhythms that we walk, in the music that we listen to, in the natural world we experience. Fortunately, National Poetry Month gives us space to make this a curricular focus.
By now I’ve written a number of books and have enough distance from them, to see patterns emerge. Looking back, I’ve realized that so many of the children (or mice or other animals) who populate my work use imagination—as play, as an escape, as a tool.
I have been asked quite often how Stella and Sam became TV stars. What was my role in their transformation? How did I participate in this transformation? Am I happy with the results?