Legend of the Lost Jewels

The latest installment of Hazel Frump's adventures is hitting bookstores now!!!!!!!
I thought bringing out my first book was scary, but the release of The Legend of the Lost Jewels has me petrified. What if it's too dark, too creepy?

Or worse - what if it's boring?

I imagine every writer hopes that their second book will demonstrate some sort of growth, or improvement - tighter pacing, a more fluid style, a stronger command of language. But what if you had to write that second book very, very quickly - and at the same time, you were re-writing that first book for a U.S. publisher, taking out characters, adding and deleting scenes? Could you write a stronger, more compelling sequel? Or would you struggle just to keep all the plots straight?

The first time around, many reviewers compared Hazel to Nancy Drew. On the surface, this is a bit perplexing. Hazel is not a young adult with her own car. She's 12 years old - she doesn't drive, doesn't have a boyfriend, and the last thing she's yearning to be is an amateur detective. Hazel just wants to be safe, with her family, and left alone to shoot hoops - a classic reluctant hero. Hazel is Cary Grant running through a cornfield. In the first book, The Mystery of the Martello Tower, Hazel spends a great deal of time trying to figure out what's going on, as people and paintings disappear and menacing criminals follow her everywhere. Like any reluctant hero, she tries at first to run away from trouble. But trouble, of course, follows her. Eventually, she realizes her only chance lies in trying to out-play or out-wit the bad guys.

I think evoking Nancy Drew is a polite way for reviews to signal that the Hazel Frump Adventures are genre books - not high-end literary fiction. I'm not offended by that - hey, they're not high-end books! But I wish reviewers would just come out and say that. Because - not to take anything away from Nancy or her Hardy counterparts - the books are nothing alike.

In children's fiction, the characters in a series are usually trapped in amber. The appeal lies in the way that the same characters face the same - or remarkably similar challenges - over and over again. But the Mystery of the Martello Tower didn't sell all that well, so by the time I began work on The Legend of the Lost Jewels, I was already concerned that this might be the last adventure for Hazel and Ned and the cousins. So I set out to write more of a sequel, one that would let me peek behind the curtain that fell at the ending of Martello. A sequel that would explore not only the lives of the main characters, but also what happened to some of the bit players after the happily ever after.

I really hope that Legend succeeds. Once again, Hazel must solve two mysteries. A modern-day treasure hunt that goes awry provides much of the danger and adventure. But in a creepy twist, Hazel and Ned also uncover clues that something dark and terrible happened in their family's castle more than a hundred years ago, leaving a legacy that has shaped the lives of many of the characters we met in Martello.

Man I hope it works.

I guess we'll see.

Battle of the Books

I know many wonderful, inspiring teachers. I know many wonderful, inspiring kids. It's puzzling to hear people malign today's schools and teachers and students but I suspect it was always thus. (I remember in my high school Latin class reading Pliny or Catullus or someone moaning on about "kids these days" and how the whole Empire was on a road to ruin paved with slothfulness and generally uncouth behavior.)

But just imagine the creativity and intellectual curiosity it requires to stride into a classroom each morning, knowing that two or three dozen minds - unique brains, all - will be seeking help understanding that day's lessons. I have a hard enough time conveying simple information to my three children. How could any one person possibly hold the attention of so many diverse creatures, let alone devise the keys that will allow them to unlock their potential? I love visiting classrooms but I always leave full of respect for the teacher who remains behind. What a hugely important job.

I don't know who invented the concept of Battle of the Books. I figure it just has to have started with a teacher or a librarian. But I've seen it now at bookstores like the venerable Woozles in Halifax, and also in schools on the west coast. I hope it's viral. I hope it spreads across the globe. If you haven't encountered an example of Battle of the Books, let me explain: schools compete with each other by having their students read books on a reading list, then answer questions based on the books' content.

I can't describe the thrill when a Google Alert pops up in your mailbox, and you discover that your book has made it onto the list of someone's Battle of the Books. Now, somewhere hundreds of kilometres away, kids I've never met are reading my book! Maybe they're even talking about it! Maybe some of them will send me an email or a letter! Maybe they'll read the next book too!

And there are other great reading programs now well established across the country, like the Willow awards in Saskatchewan or the Forest of Reading in Ontario, where kids read from a list of recommended books and vote for their favourites. (You can't vote unless you've read a certain minimum number of books on the list.) I've volunteered in my local school library for the past ten years and I can testify to the passions that swirl around these programs. I've even attended the awards ceremony, as a chaperone for students from our school, and I've heard kids in the audience around me arguing the merits of their favourite books, right up to the moment the winner's name is called. American/Canadian Idol just can't compare - these readers are thoughtful, analytical, opinionated and inspired.

There's no shortage of reasons to feel grey or despondent in this world. But when I feel discouraged, I head to a school, a library, or a bookstore. They give me hope.

mayday mayday

How can it possibly be May? How can an entire month - nearly two - have passed without a blog post?

All too easily, my friend.

I spent most of April in the nineteenth century. Not figuratively, as I did when researching Legend of the Lost Jewels. No, I mean I actually lived as a Victorian. In the space of a few scant weeks my vacuum died, my dishwasher died, my car - and I do mean this literally - blew up. Big boom. Clouds of smoke. Thousands of dollars of mysteriously uncovered by warranty damage.

And in the middle of all that, four of the five members of my immediate family were visited by a most determined colony of head lice. (Which four members, you ask? Naturally, I'm sworn to secrecy. But I can tell you this much: it was those of us with hair.)

Weeks later, when I finally emerged, blinking, from my Dickensian state? Playoff time. Hmm. Local reporters may cringe before Sam Mitchell, like he's Stringer Bell in a nicer suit, but that's just cause they give up about 75 - 100 IQ points to the man. Each. It says here that Sam Mitchell is an excellent coach but I believe I called this season last fall, when I pointed out that the Raptors, while apparently an awfully nice cast of characters, were relying for toughness on a player with a broken foot. A European player, not to unduly indulge in anyone's fondness for stereotypes, because any guy willing to play on the strength of his tendons gets cred for toughness. Not sanity, perhaps, or intelligence, but playing with a big old crack in your ankle bone sounds pretty darn tough to me.

But apart from that gaping chasm in the roster? I thought Rasho Nesterovic had a truly impressive season. Seriously. But doesn't that just speak volumes about our roster? I don't honestly know who will get through to our former number one draft pick, but someone better find a way to help Barnagni play like he's seven feet tall and fast, because we have enough depth at the one, ta very much. And here I should just add that - unlike many of my fellow callers to great Fan 590 sports radio - I send my love to both our point guards, to the selfless, steady Calderon and the mercurial, magical Ford. If the league has room for both Iverson and Nash, surely the Raptors have room for two tiny little playmakers? Still, Bosh, the hardworking racehorse, needs more talent in his stable. It's nothing personal about these guys. I've worn AP's jersey since he arrived and I love the aging rookie Moon as much as the next guy. Jason Kapono had great hair all season long (and great game through much of the post season). And Carlos Delfino? When he was good he was very very good and well, you know...

I'm not saying I want to see us sign an Artest or a Bowen, but someone has to grab rebounds and throw elbows and go to work on their guy. But when the toughest guy on our team is wearing a finely tailored suit and holding a clipboard and the rules say he can't cross centre court... well, we're just treading water and the sharks know it.

Man, I could never have survived in the nineteenth century. I can do without the car - even a non-combusting version. But I wouldn't want to inhabit a a world with no vacuums, no dishwashers, no Raptors.

Just rampant, unchecked armies of head lice.