On September 4, 1945, a little girl stood on the back porch in her brand-new navy blue dotted swiss dress brushing her teeth with a brand-new pink toothbrush that had a tiny pink doll dangling from the bottom. Excitement filled the air.

From its beginning words, Richard Llewellyn’s Welsh book How Green Was My Valley reads like a well-written memoir. In reality, the book is a novel and the author is not Welsh as he claimed but English, though with a tad of Welsh ancestry.

This week’s weather presents a rerun of fifteen years ago, almost on the same date, with Hurricane Laura a fraternal twin to Hurricane Katrina, landing on our next door neighbor state.

Daughter-in-law Kelly introduced me to a new book in her online children’s Sunday school lesson. The picture book Who Is My Neighbor? by Amy-Jill Levine and Sandy Eisenberg Sasso.

Some things haven’t changed since I was a kid. When asked for volunteers, my hand tends to go up. In this case, graduate students at USM were doing studies on the Brain using exercises comparing their peers and participants from the lifelong learning branch who were at least fifty.

I read Isaiah Dunn Is My Hero by Kelly Baptist in an advance reading copy furnished by Net Galley. It has been quite a while since I’ve stayed awake until near midnight to finish reading, but I couldn’t rest easy until Isaiah had found peace!

Kids aren’t the only ones who take classes by Zoom! I signed up for the workshop offered by the Highlights Foundation on writing for children about science and nature. The first presenter said creativity is often achieved when one is under pressure.

The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators made adjustments, as many groups are doing, in light of the coronavirus and held its Summer Spectacular via Zoom. A sign language translator filled one of the Zoom slots for every presentation to be sure those who had trouble hearing were included.

It seems fitting to tie in to my Monday blog about John Lewis with a review of his trilogy that recounts his participation in the civil rights movement.

After a business trip to DC, our son Mark encountered a dilemma as he approached his gate. Representative John Lewis sat waiting to board the same plane. Mark watched as people were drawn to go speak to the congressman.

I first got an offer to preview an advance reading copy of Who Is Alex Trebek? by Lisa Rogak from Net Galley in exchange for an honest review. Then I saw Alex on TV plugging his own memoir called The Answer Is . . . Reflections on My Life.

In all honesty, Alex Trebek and I started off with a shaky relationship. I remembered Art Fleming from the original Jeopardy! Alex was no Art Fleming, just a young upstart replacing a mature professor.

If you leave a Washington Heights apartment to travel across town to the academically upscale Riverdale Academy Day School as the “new kid” with only a smattering of kids of color in the whole grade, the ante has already been elevated.

I came to appreciate Amoun Sleem’s wisdom as we worked together for over a year on her autobiography told in A Gypsy Dreaming in Jerusalem. She gave me credit as the “wordsmith who helped me put my narrative in order” in her acknowledgements.

While it is often exciting to find a new book by a new author that hits the spot, sometimes I like to know before I open a book what I’m getting and that I am going to like it. I can do this sometimes when I see an author’s name I know.

We’ve had a few queries after our recent move about how we’ve enjoyed the peace and quiet in the country. One of those has been true – the other, not so much.

I originally wrote this piece and took the photograph for picture book month in 2018, but in light of Mississippi’s current flag news, I am doing a blog rerun with this picture book that recounts an almost forgotten part of our history.

There have been naysayers who have said it couldn’t be done, and some have used a common idiom to describe that “never,” but it has happened.

Heather Lende, with the style and wit of Erma Bombeck, gives an account of life and politics in Haines, Alaska in Of Bears and Ballots.  

The old saying of “Misery loves company,” fits what I’m hearing from my writing buddies these days.