Watershed by L.Lee Lowe

Check out Watershed  a new short story posted by my blogger friend L.Lee Lowe author of the two serialized YA online novels Corvus and Mortal Ghost.

E-reading: Are We Forgetting the Little Ones?

All the discussion about e-reading, whether online or on a device, seems to focus on the comfort/convenience of the reader or the profits of the publisher. Until I read this letter in Indian Country Today about pediatricians "breaking the cycle of poverty" by giving away books during well child visits I never thought about an important demographic being overlooked––kids––and not just the ones from low-income families though they will, of course, suffer most.

"Today in the United States, there are more than 11 million children aged 5 and under who are living in poverty. Millions of these children will arrive at their first day of kindergarten bright, eager, and happy – but with deficits in their reading readiness that leave them underprepared to read and learn. Sadly, starting one step behind decreases the likelihood that those smiling, eager children will ever catch up. Once behind these children are at increased risk for absenteeism, dropping out, juvenile delinquency, substance abuse, and teenage pregnancy."

Obviously, I'm a big promoter of online publishing, and I have complained before on this blog about too many studies on the reading habits of young adults equating reading with books and ignoring  reading done online. So far I've passed on the Kindle based on price and a premonition that it will soon become a relic as better readers untethered by a single retailer hit the markets, but I'm resigned to the inevitable march toward e-reading, and, honestly, don't feel those same tactile connections to print so many fuss about.  However, this article got me thinking about children and what effect the digital age could have on their first contact with the written word.

I recall an elderly aunt attempting to introduce my then two-year-old daughter to Winnie-the-Pooh through the original chapter book by AA Milne. While she later came to cherish that book and read it and re-read it, as a toddler my daughter couldn't focus on a book with more words than pictures. Reluctantly I gave in to purchasing the bastardized Disney versions with the fatter, yellower, cartoon Pooh until she reached the age where she could focus on pages of words with few illustrations . There lies the problem, or at least as I see it, with kids and e-reading.

I'm relying on personal experience so I could be all wet here, but it strikes me that even if a toddler did have the dexterity to "turn" pages on a laptop or e-reader, and even if you didn't mind having your $300 Kindle double as a teething ring, could a child ever be engrossed by an e-reader version of Goodnight Moon ? And then there's the sense of ownership. Children own their books like few other things in their young lives. My daughter used her favorite books as a form of bonding, thrusting them into the hands of a person to whom she'd taken a liking, climbing into that person's lap and asking to be read to before she could even form words. Sitting with a book can also be a form of self-entertainment, one of the few things a toddler can choose to do alone. We all know how children will memorize entire books,page for page and word for word, at a young age, and claim to "read" them to us. Is all that possible with a laptop or e-reader?

While I haven't heard this issue discussed much, I imagine there could be some movement to continue printing books for the pre-school set, but what would such a small, specialized product cost? Already children of wealthier and better-educated parents get a jump on their education. Could this make that divide even worse? Then again, will better-off parents who grew up assuming New+Technology=Better Life even consider that an old traditional form of reading might be better for their kids? Or will they force e-reading on them as the better way, not to mention more convenient for the parent?

I am certainly no expert in child development. My concerns could be empty. Maybe reading on a Kindle is every bit as good for a child as reading a Golden Book. Maybe reading on devices will lure children into reading as much or more than books.

I'd be interested in know your thoughts, especially the teachers out there.

New Year's Resolutions 2010

Beneath my Happy New Year article this year, under "You might also like" perhaps you clicked on New Year's Resolutions for Writers posted last New Year.  I had forgotten all about that one.

The great thing about a blog is I can come back here next year and see what I wrote. Will I have kept my resolutions or will I be like those people who crowd the gym every January and disappear with the first crocus?

I waited well past the first crocus and into the next year before I checked it out. So how did I do? Well, I'm still exercising regularly and eating right. Oh wait, those were things I didn't need to resolve to do. Are you getting the idea I'm hedging?


Let's see, of all those resolutions the one I have stuck to most is "submitting more." In the past year I have regularly had at least three stories circulating to several markets at a time. I can't say this has greatly improved my success rate, but it does help keep my spirits up as there are always markets out there I haven't heard from yet.


The lack of improvement in my success rate can probably be linked to the resolution I have been worst at sticking to––better researching and targeting of markets. While having several stories in my portfolio at any one time allows me to choose the one best suited for a publication I've just discovered, I still don't go deep enough into the markets I research, tending to submit after reading just one issue instead of the recommended two or three. And when it comes to print markets, sometimes submitting before the first sample issue even arrives in my mailbox. This doesn't mean I don't read more than one issue, I simply can't force myself to wait that long to submit. Also, I suspect I am just not that good at analyzing stories anyway. I know what I like, but the nuance that might attract an editor to one story over another still eludes me.


Did I spend more time reading current fiction? Yes and no. I have started alternating fiction and nonfiction or reading both together. Not simultaneously, of course, but sometimes I split my evening reading time between two books or trade off nights. Not all of that is the most current fiction, but joining the Amazon Vine program has encouraged me to read at least some new things like Lorrie Moore's newest novel. Also, while I allowed my subscription to The New Yorker to lapse, I read a friend's copy every month while working out, and as I've noted, been pleasantly surprised at the recent change in tone.


One resolution, though, hit me like a brick in the face, and perhaps it was good I read it when I did.

RESOLVED to focus most of my creativity on my writing.

In connection with that one I vowed, "each time I join a new volunteer organization I'm determined to remain only a foot soldier." I kept that resolution pretty well...until a couple of weeks ago when I began considering perhaps one of the biggest volunteer commitments of my life––a please-won't-somebody-talk-me-out-of-this kind of commitment.  Should I or shouldn't I? Circumstances will not allow me to divulge details at this point, but perhaps fate steered me to that old post for a reason.


So how did you do on last year's resolutions? Have you made any for 2010?

Native American Heritage Day

Here in the US, November is Native American Heritage Month, and, last year, the government proclaimed the day after Thanksgiving as Native American Heritage Day. Those of you who know me or have followed this blog from its beginnings are aware how strongly I feel about how little most US citizens know about the descendants of the first inhabitants of our continent. Among most of us American Indians are seen, at worst, as just another ethnic group trying to get an underserved leg up on the white population, and, at best, as a quaint relic of our nation's past. Native American issues receive scant (and usually no) coverage in the media except for local outrage when a nearby tribe has applied for federal recognition and/or expresses an interest in starting a new gaming operation.

Last November I recommended some fiction by Native American Writers. This year I'd like to recommend some nonfiction, but first a little quiz. These questions and answers are based on Journey to Understanding, An Introduction to North Dakota Tribes, compiled and distributed by the North Dakota Department of Human Services, a copy of which I received a couple years ago on a trip with the American Indian College Fund and which used to be available on the department website, but I can't find it there now, and The Rights of Indians and Indian Tribes by Stephen L. Pevar, New York University Press, 2004. See the bottom of this post for correct answers.

Quiz

1. Indian Reservations represent tracts of land that were given to tribes by the US Government. True or False
2. Who holds the most power in regulating Indian affairs? a) The tribal government b) The governor of the state in which the tribe is located c) The president of the US d) The US Congress
3. Most members of federally recognized tribes living on reservations require approval from the federal government before selling, leasing, or willing their land to another individual or company. True or False
4. Are tribal powers limited by the US Constitution? Yes or No
5. American Indians don't pay income tax. True or False

See answers at the end of the post.

Recommended Readings

The Nations Within: The Past and Future of American Indian Sovereignty

This tells the story of the Indian Reorganization Act (IRA), part of FDR's New Deal and also gives a good overview of where American Indian tribes stand viz a viz the US Government.

Conquest by Law: How the Discovery of America Dispossessed Indigenous Peoples of Their Lands and How the Indians Lost Their Land: Law and Power on the Frontier

If you still labor under the misconception that American Indians were militarily defeated and that is how they lost most of their land, these two books may surprise you.

Like a Hurricane: The Indian Movement from Alcatraz to Wounded Knee

If what you know about AIM comes from books like In the Spirit of Crazy Horse or documentaries like Incident at Oglala, on this 40th anniversary of the occupation of Alcatraz you may be surprised at the student movement origins of the fight for American Indian rights.

Po'pay: Leader of the First American Revolution

If you think American Indian history is a history of victimhood or that Indians were just a bunch of primitive hunter/gatherers waiting for the superior European machine to roll over them, you need to read about the Pueblo Revolt in the 17th century when the Pueblo Indians overthrew Spanish rule and held them off for more than a decade.

Warpath: The True Story of the Fighting Sioux Told in a Biography of Chief White Bull (Bison Book)

If you think of American Indians as those austere and stately individuals staring out from old photographs I highly recommend this depiction of the everyday life of a plains warrior, including plenty of humor.

Again, this just scrapes the surface of my too-many-to-count library, but it's a start.

And now for the answers

1. False, reservations were not "given" to Indians by the government, the land was theirs to begin with and reservations represent the only parts not ceded.
2. The US Congress holds plenary power over Indian tribes including the right to terminate the tribe or all tribes as they attempted to do in the 1950s.
3. This is true in that under the Dawes Act of 1887 that divided communal reservation land into individual allotments, and later under the Indian Reorganization Act, most reservation land as well as much of the property of individual Indians is held in trust for them by the Federal Government. One benefit is that the land cannot be lost for taxes as occurred quite frequently before the IRA was passed, partly to remedy that situation. However, unlike the rest of us, individual Indians must gain the approval of the US government as trustee for transfers of trust land, which, as you can imagine, can get pretty cumbersome. Also, the government, as trustee, holds lease income in trust, the accounting of which has been badly bungled, leading to the Cobell case.
4. No. Indian tribes are sovereign nations and as such, for the most part, tribal powers are not limited by the Constitution, however they can and have been limited by Congress, which, as noted in #2, holds plenary power over Indian tribes.
5. False. This is a common misconception. Tribal businesses, such as casinos, run for the benefit of the tribe, do not pay federal taxes, just as states do not pay federal taxes. Individual Indians are subject to income tax like anyone else. Individual American Indians do not pay state or local taxes because Indian tribes have a government-to-government relationship with the US Government, just as states do.

I hope these questions and their answers will whet your appetite to learn more. American Indians are not just another ethnic group. Tribes are sovereign nations within the US which puts them somewhere between a foreign nation and a state. If you don't quite grasp that, you are not alone. What exactly that means is constantly evolving, and not always to the benefit of Indian nations.

Read and Submit Your Favorite Reviews

This is a great site brought to my attention by John Gorman author of Shades of Luz. Reviewers, authors, and readers (with permission) may submit one review per month. The nice thing is it gives books published by smaller presses a chance. For example, you'll find reviews of poetry chapbooks. While I usually prefer sites that link back to read the entire article, in the case of reviews by small presses and self-published authors, the more publicity the better. If readers prefer going to one site for their reviews, it's better than not reading them at all. Plus reviews do include a link to your site, so they make a good introduction.

The Dan Brown Thing

So a couple of weeks ago, Monday, September 14 to be exact, my 56th birthday, I was sitting in a restaurant in Raleigh with my husband, daughter (whom we were visiting), and her roommate who had just arrived late from her job at Barnes & Noble where they had been unpacking––but not yet unwrapping––copies of the new Dan Brown book, The Lost Symbol set to go on sale the following day. Apparently none of the employees was allowed to so much as nick the cellophane wrapper, on pain of death, and they were required to show up at the store in the wee hours to prepare for the onslaught.

To show how clueless my family is about popular culture, both my daughter and my husband said, "Who's book?"

At least I could reply, "You know The Da Vinci Code guy." Though I did not know the to-be-released title."

"You mean Tom Hanks wrote a book?" my husband asked.

At that point the roommate winced and, except for seeing The Lost Symbol sitting in a rather lonely display at the airport the next day, that was the last I heard of it until Thursday night when they did a piece about it on the The News Hour with Jim Lehrer. In addition to the editor of The Scottish Rite Journal who was interviewed at length, a woman representing the DC tourist bureau or chamber or something went all rapturous about how the book was boosting tourism.

Wow, I can see a city like Philadelphia doing handstands for literary-tourism, but was the US capital (and Capitol) really hurting that bad for tourists? Then again, look what The Da Vinci Code did for Rome. I hear that was a real backwater before getting the Brown Bump. (Wait a second, Da Vinci Code, DC, was Dan trying to tell us something in that first book?)

Later they interviewed a literature professor from George Washington University, which happens to be my alma mater and may be the reason I naively found Washington to be a pretty okay city already. This woman too was very excited, not because of what the book could do for her fair city, but for what it was doing for the book industry that, in most other ways, seems to be faltering. She noted how blockbusters like The Lost Symbol keep publishers like Doubleday Books afloat, and, by implication, allow them to publish perhaps "better" but less popular writers? I'm guessing at the last part since she is a professor of literature after all, and GW is no slouch institution (if I do say so).

Now my thought is, what if Doubleday or some other publisher did that big roll out for other books? The marketing plan, if you think about it, was just the opposite of the standard. Instead of sending around a mess of review copies in advance, the story was kept under wraps, figuratively and literally, until it hit the shelves. Why? The answer is simple, no one wanted to take the chance the book would be panned. Instead, you build a desire by making it the "forbidden fruit." It really doesn't matter if half the people who buy the book don't finish it or think it downright sucks, they can't return it. Add to that some branding, like book tours––not book tours as in the author doing signings and interviews––but tours centered on visiting the sites and following the clues in the book.

Of course they can't do it with every book without risking burn out, but if they took the next short story collection from, I don't know, Rick Bass (just a name I picked out of the air), and wrapped it in cellophane and said no one could reveal what stories it included until the release date. Then they put out a whole lot of press hoopla about all the anticipation and how there was this new sudden interest growing across the country in short story collections. It wouldn't be true, of course, but that's how mob psychology works. Then they could link it with tours to Montana where everyone attends a Halloween party in the bar where Bass set "Antlers" with everyone given free antlers to wear for the evening––natch––and maybe bow hunting lessons.

I'd go, but I like Montana, and I also like reading Rick Bass a whole lot better than reading Dan Brown, which I tried with Da Vinci, but couldn't finish since I find bad writing as excruciatingly boring as a bad story.

I get the professor's point about being grateful and all, but wouldn't it be nice if, just once, these big publishers put all that marketing power behind something really good?

Overdosing On Simile?

Is anyone else feeling overdosed on simile these days? I just read a prize winning story in a very high tier online publication where the word "like" showed up five times in one paragraph describing a woman walking down the street. Her hair looked like this. Her skirt swung like that, etc., etc., or should I say, yada...yada, because that's how it read for me.

Simile, according to the Oxford English Dictionary is

a figure of speech involving the comparison of one thing with another thing of a different kind, used to make a description more emphatic or vivid.

As such it should be a way to conserve words by creating an image with one sentence. Yet it seems in much literary writing these days similes amount to extra words tacked onto a description for effect with no added value.

In the paragraph I mentioned above, I felt so bombarded with "likes" that I decided to go back and analyze each one. Of the five similes, I'd say one somewhat enhanced the image already created by the author in the lines preceding it. Three didn't detract but didn't add anything either, and one, on close examination, wasn't really accurate. The simile compared the movement of a piece of clothing to the wings of a certain insect, and, when I thought about it, the image was kind of upside-down and backwards.

Obviously I'm being purposefully vague about the story. In all other respects it was great, and I don't want to pan this particular writer for doing something that is––going by what I read in the most selective journals––strongly encouraged. In fact it often seems that a generous peppering with similes is a basic requirement for acceptance at many literary journals, yet at the same time, the effect has been so watered down by overuse that I suspect even the editors skim them like readers skim dialogue tags. (Hey, there's one.) How else would these ineffectual additional words slip through?

Maybe it's just me, but I'd rather see writers go back to using similes sparingly and to greater effect. When it's not part of their natural style, I'd rather writers skip the simile all together rather than come up with something that sounds strained at best.

Students Pick Their Own Reading

I really like the idea of students having a say in what they read. This follows well on my earlier post Kids & Reading. I see two major problems with required reading at the middle and high school level. One is that while some kids may find a few gems they enjoy, nothing is as much fun when someone forces you to do it. Second, the reading lists are always chosen by the prior generation. Back in the 60s, our reading through senior year of high school went from Chaucer through Hemingway and Faulkner. By definition a "classic" has to be "judged over time," but other things come into the mix as well. The Lord of the Rings caught on with the counter-culture back then, but even though first published in the 30s, it was not yet seen as "serious" enough for required reading. I'm guessing these days it comes highly recommended, and I'm also guessing most kids now prefer the movie. The next generation of teachers and administrators will likely insist at least some of the Harry Potter series (click that link at your own risk) make the list of required reading.

I do think a mix of assignments works better, but not when it functions in the old style of one reading list fits all. I know this is hard to do in larger classrooms, but kids who choose certain contemporary novels can be steered in the direction of classics of a similar theme or genre. A recommendation for the kids reading chick lit might be some Jane Austen. If they like vampires and horror, they could also read Dracula and Frankenstein. Teachers should encourage students to appreciate that shorter isn't always better, and that some works can have meaning beyond the basic story, but students should also be allowed to prefer the new over the old.

This could go a long way, not just toward getting kids more interested in reading, but ending the notion that academia has a "lock" on what's of value or that students must be forced to "appreciate" certain works and authors. Or worse, those disastrous attempts by teachers to reach out to students by choosing what they think kids would identify with. In my first year of high school I'm pretty sure that was the reasoning behind assigning John Gunther's Death Be Not Proud that served only to ruin our summer vacations and cause us to freak out every time we had a headache or kink in our necks.

Next I'd love to see kids perusing the Internet for favorite zines and stories and poems to share with classmates. Why not bring it all into the 21st century?

Clambering Across the Digital Divide

I've said in other posts (and I'm not alone in this sentiment), enough already with the sensory draw of books––the feel, the smell, the weight. Next we'll be reminiscing over that little scab of, shall we call it "sneeze residue," that makes its appearance now and then on the pages of library books, reminding us why the librarians of old compulsively placed those "Wash hands before reading" stickers on inside covers. Or, more apropos, "Wash hands after reading."

For me it's all a matter of convenience, since the aesthetic appeal of books died with the advent of paperbacks, and so far I haven't found a reading device that meets my requirements. My friend Kim of Kim's Craft Blog finds her Kindle best for blogs, newspapers, and magazines. My problem is the most convenient time I find for reading the magazines and journals I subscribe to is when working out at the gym. I only recently acquired the knack of reading print while bobbing up and down on an elliptical, and since I do the arm thing, hands-free is a definite must.

The Kindle requires a lot more hand than flipping a page now and then, or so it appeared when my friend demonstrated the Kindle he received for Christmas. That and the price and the fear that it will shortly be rendered obsolete by something even more user friendly from Apple––who else–– (I remain gun shy after the Betamax VCR thing), keeps me from purchasing one just yet.

I have, however, begun to read my newspapers online. I subscribed to two. I did the traditional Sunday thing reading my thick Inquirer while eating bacon and eggs and sipping coffee. Weekday mornings I read my local county paper that now, as the biggies have dwindled, covers much more national and international news, but I turn to it as the only place for news about school taxes, our local lawmakers, etc. I gave up the paper version of The Inquirer a couple years ago due to an erratic delivery schedule on cold winter mornings when I'd risk life and limb on our icy private lane only to find my paper hadn't yet arrived. The online version of The Inquirer I read is free. I gave up the print version of the local paper just a few weeks ago when they practically begged me to purchase a less expensive electronic version delivered in PDF format. Considering newspapers take up the majority of my recycle bin, it seemed like something I needed to do both to keep my paper solvent and save some trees.

However, reading on my laptop has its definite drawbacks. First, it's awkward playing with my mouse while trying to eat breakfast and keep my hot coffee at a safe distance from my keyboard. (We received a desperate call from our daughter a while back regarding a situation that began with a cup held suspended over a laptop by someone only half awake.) In the summer I liked to take my paper and coffee out on the patio, but the laptop is a little awkward there too, and difficult to see in bright sunlight.

Today, though, showed me the true limitations of getting my paper online. For some reason the Internet was slow, and I spent my entire breakfast waiting for my morning paper to load. That got me thinking. What would happen in the case of a power outage? We usually have one every summer that lasts at least 48 hours. About the only thing we can do, since all our phones now require electricity or recharging, is read. So what would I do in a world where all my reading material was digital? I read that in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina the Time-Picayune of New Orleans, with the presses down, continued to publish in electronic format. High praise for the staffers who hunkered down and braved the storm to get the news out, but while the main value was to bring the disaster to the world, how many people in New Orleans had access to the Internet?

In my home we need electricity to cook and even to use the water, since we have a well and an electric pump. It's scary to think even reading might one day depend on electric power.

Ah well, you can't stop progress, or whatever you call it.

Twitterature?

OMG, according to this article in P&W, Penguin is going to release a volume "that pares classic books down to a series of tweet-sized chunks." I'd love to know what readers think about this.

For more on my thoughts you can read my earlier post.

Kids & Reading: Is the Prognosis All That Bad?

In the most recent newsletter from Writing-World.com editor Moira Allen reminds us of something we often forget in all the hand-wringing regarding kids and reading.

"News flash: Most kids don't read!" 

(This newsletter isn't up on the website yet, so I can't link to it, but will when it's available.)

She goes on to jog our memories about how readers "were a rare breed" in our school days. Most kids preferred doing something else even in the days before computers and iPods and texting and all the other stuff that came after that major Boomer distraction, TV. Yet among the people I know, at least the women, most of them are now readers. They may not all be what you would call avid readers, and their tastes may reside at the opposite end of the spectrum from mine, but most take along a book to read while waiting in the doctor's office or while having their roots touched up. Most read at the beach or while their kids splash in the pool, and many need to read a few pages to relax at bedtime. 

Now for my confession, I was one of those kids who didn't read. Worse, I was one of those kids who fudged her book reports from the flyleaf, and I'd always pick the thickest, toughest book, like I thought I could fool someone.

I suspect that a love of reading, like cleaning up after ourselves and getting our work done on time, is something many of us acquire in adulthood, and then convince ourselves we did straight out of the womb. When we see our kids act irresponsibly, we swear up and down that when we were kids we saved our money, had our homework assignments done two days in advance, and never lost a textbook under the bed. And we all spent our summers reading Jane Eyre and Moby Dick, not because we had to, mind you, but because we wanted to. 

In the words of Stanley Kowalski, "Ha! Ha-ha."

I can tell you exactly when I began to take joy in reading. It was the summer following my freshman year of college, when I suddenly had the luxury to read whatever I wanted. Up until then, reading meant what everyone else told me I "had" to read.

Before I reached the age for summer reading lists, the women around me––my mother, a couple of aunts, and an older sister––were constantly forcing books down my throat. These were the books I absolutely had to read, because, of course, they loved them and therefore so should I. I remember a particularly excruciating summer when they forced me to slog through the "Little Maid" books. This was a series similar to today's American Girl Series, in which the "Little Maid" always played an important role in some event in American History, like waking Paul Revere from a drunken stupor before his ride. Okay, I don't think it was exactly that way––that I would have actually enjoyed––but the Little Maid figured somewhere in there with Paul. (Even as  kid I was a stickler for realism.)

This idea of being forced to read certain books, I suspect, has a lot more to do with why most kids don't read than all the distractions we like to blame. Frank Wilson, former Books Editor at the Inquirer, had some interesting thoughts in an interview I did last year for Roses & Thorns.

They assign books that are widely regarded as “great,” “classics,” “masterpieces.” And the books in question usually are all of those things. That doesn’t mean they’re easy to read, though, and if they’re hard to read, they are not only not going get people hooked on reading, they are going to turn people off on reading. 

I suspect one reason Catcher in the Rye makes so many lists of great books is that it is the first––and for many possibly the only––assigned reading they can actually identify with.

To this day, I hate reading books because I have to. I always think twice before taking on a book for review. I never read a bestseller while it remains on the list. I'll never take part in "One City One Book," and nothing will drive me from a book faster than having Oprah recommend it.

So maybe it's time to lighten up on this whole kids and reading thing. If they are like me, and my daughter after me, once the pressure is off they will "luv 2 read A3" (If you're too "bookish" to know the jargon, Look it up.)

Summertime and the Reading Is Easy

While summer doesn't officially begin until the third week in June, here in the US the summer season usually runs from Memorial Day to Labor Day, so that puts us right at the start. I don't know about you, but for me summer is only second to the holidays as far as distracting me from my writing. While having kids under foot is a not-so-distant memory, there are still far more things I want to do than in the winter, like garden, hang out at the beach, and outdoor entertaining, not to mention the things I have to do like weed and clean out the garage while the weather is warm. In the winter you can't drag me out of the house at night, but in the summer who wants to sit behind a laptop when I could be at an outdoor concert or simply ensconced on the patio with a lemonade or something stronger.

Does that mean my writing life comes to a grinding halt? Only if typing words on a page is all there is to it. I happen to believe, and many an accomplished writer will back me up, that reading well is an important part of writing well. So, in that sense, summers away from my laptop don't have to be a waste. When I'm out there on the patio with drink in hand, I can have a book in the other.

Of course, for many summertime is associated with"beach reading", and "beach reading" is associated with throw-away novels. To me, if a book isn't worth keeping, it isn't worth reading. In fact, it takes me longer to slog through some formulaic thriller than it would––well, War and Peace would be an exaggeration––but certainly Anna Karenina. I absolutely hate books that are poorly written, and the times I've had to stick one out because I'd promised to review it, have been excruciating. So I use my summer to read the good stuff.

Summer is also a great time to read "a few sample issues" of those literary journals I'm considering submitting to. They travel quite nicely in a beach bag or I can print out a few stories online and take them with me. Short fiction fits nicely into summer because I can read an entire story during a break from my gardening or after I've finished and before dinner.

For those who do have kids home from school, try reading them the classics at night. I used to do that with my daughter. We started with Winnie the Pooh and Charlotte's Web, then went onto the Brontes and Thomas Hardy. It's hard these days for youngsters to stick with the wordiness of some of those older novels. Often, though, they can appreciate someone else doing the reading. It calms kids down after the stimulation of a summer day, and you get to re-visit books you haven't read in years. I know I got a totally different perspective on some of them.

So if you find writing a challenge in the balmy days of summer, try reading instead. Come September you'll be even more inspired.