Another Bake-Off, Some Big News and Back-of-the-Book Blurb Friday # 51

Yesterday my middle-schoolers had another bake-off. In case you missed the earlier fascinating post on this activity, here's the low-down:

The students chose a cupcake challenge this time. (Earlier, it was microwave brownies.) Each student chose an added ingredient and wrote it down on a slip of paper. The slips were put in a bowl, and then were drawn, one at a time. The next week (this club meets once a week during our homeroom time) the groups worked on their strategies. How would they cool down the heat of ghost pepper powder in their cupcake? How would they mask the salmon (again, in a cupcake). On the third meeting, they chopped and squeezed and whisked... and then were judged.

Some of the combos (yes, that means that all of them were featured in the same cupcake) included:

• tuna, bacon and Spam
• lime juice, Ranch dressing and fresh spinach
• ghost pepper powder, canned salmon and A-1 sauce

Several teachers and cafeteria workers asked the same question: What's the point?

On the day of the bake-off the kids give up their PE class, their lunch (they eat while they work), their recess and their homeroom time. During this time, there were 15 students blending (frosting) and mincing (chives) and crushing (Toxic Waste candy. They learned time management skills, because at 1:00, the judging took place. They had to work as a team, or their cupcakes wouldn't get ready in time. They had to utilized some research skills (what will neutralize the heat of ghost pepper powder?) and had to decide on some strategies, such as

• frizzling up the Spam in bacon grease (making it more palatable to people
• bringing sugar-free, ready-to-eat jello for their opponent (the girl who contributed the jello figured the group that got it would assume they'd get a box of Jello powder. She figured--and rightly so--the team that drew Jello would not be happy with small cartons of the jiggly stuff
• blending chocolate frosting with the A-1 sauce for a cupcake dipping sauce

There were some surprising results. The Spam/bacon/tuna cupcake took 2nd place.(Due to the Spam, it was the one I dreaded the most.) The ghost pepper/salmon/A-1 sauce one was the #1 pick. One team served theirs with half a straw inserted into the cupcake. The unfortunate guest judges (seminary students) looked at the straws, puzzled looks on their faces, and I had to whisper, "It's not a joke. You'll need the straws." (The lime juice and the fresh spinach made their cakes a runny mess. They had plenty of baking time but never... really... set.)

As far as the big news, I got word this week that I snagged a spot in the Listen to Your Mother St. Louis show. On Tuesday I'll give you more details about the show and tickets, but needless to say, I'm excited. 

And now, what you're frothing at the mouth about: book blurb stuff.

Look at the photo below. That is the cover of your book. You choose the genre. An informational book on car repair? A thriller about a business owner who's fed up with the hoopty parked in front of his shop? You decide.

Write an enticing blurb--150 words or less. (The title doesn't count in the word count.) Blurbs are those enticing bits that prod you into buying the book. Sometimes they're on the back cover of the book. Sometimes they're on the inside front cover. What they always try to do is lure you into purchasing the book.

Lisa Ricard Claro was the original creator of this writing challenge. However, she's been busy for the last few years. A three-book publishing deal. Another novel (or two) in the works. Battling with Cathy C. Hall over the Korean children's book market. You get the picture. She ain't got time for this stuff.

Include your blurb in a blog post. Include a link to this post. Also, link your post to Mr. Linky. Mr. Linky is easy. If you've never done it, you'll be impressed with how simple he is. And then, check out the other blurb(s). It's interesting to see the different directions writers take, given the same photo.

Here's the book cover, along with my blurb:

photo by pixabay.com

Larry’s Love

Larry has a zoo… a zoo on wheels.

You want a petting zoo at your kid’s birthday party? Larry’s your guy. He’ll deliver a goat, a mini-donkey and a pig or two—in his car.

Oh, don’t go thinking that Larry’s critters will get tethered up in your yard for the party. Nope. With Vagabond Zoo, children get to experience a mosh pit of fun. The farm animals roam and climb around in Larry’s car. During birthday celebrations, kids—one at a time—clamber into the car so they can get stepped and nibbled on to their heart’s content.

However, Larry’s business is putting a damper on his social life. Women aren’t impressed by his car. The paint job. The interior that’s been destroyed by Billy the Goat. The smell of the “garden gold” the animals leave on the seats.

Will love be the victor? Or will Larry’s love for his critters win? (150 words)

Author's note: When I chose this photo a week ago, I had no idea what I'd write about. However, the internet address (which I didn't see until I worked on this on Thursday night) painted on the side of the car instantly inspired me.

And for those who'd like a sneak peek at next week's photo, here it is:

photo by pixabay.com

Every Dog Has His Day

      Okay, this isn't the dog I meant to write about, but Karmer (from Istanbul, Turkey) has a wonderful day every day. Well, he will have better days once he finds a forever home, but even now, while he's still waiting for a permanent source of love, he's enjoying life. (Love a Golden Rescue thinks he's a Lab/Lab mix.)

     He walks like a dream... way better than our dog.

      No, this is the dog I planned on writing about today. Radar, who's almost 3, passed his obedience class last night. My husband and I both consider it a March Miracle. Radar followed all of the commands he was given in a satisfactory manner. Either that, or the instructors were tired of seeing his happy-butt, and they gave him the certificate so he'd leave.

      When our pup first started this six-week class, the instructors said, "He's such a happy boy." We didn't have to read between the lines. We knew what they really meant. They meant, 'Your dog is one wild and crazy dog.'

      So, if you start something and assume you're going to fail, you just might end being pleasantly surprised.

B-Ball, Fried Fish and Back-of-the-Book Blurb # 50

This week was a busy one. Late nights all five days this work week. Two of those nights were spent on the sidelines of a basketball tournament. Our 7th and 8th graders took part in the Shamrock Tournament, a basketball tournament that's been going on for 52 years. 

Both games (on Tuesday and Thursday) were nail-biters. I told a couple of the boys on the team, "You owe me a new box of hair dye, 'cause this game made my hair even grayer." It was back and forth, full of hopeful hearts and some disappointments. The boys won on Tuesday, but lost on Thursday, which made me think of writing (or life, really).

You can't let your disappointment impact your future. There were times that the boys got frustrated over a ref's call, or when they missed a shot. Their coach would have to get them back on the right track. Our writer friends do that. When we get despondent over a lack of a publishing contract or when our work gets rejected, other writers are there to encourage us, so we keep submitting. (You never know when that next "yes" from an editor will come along.)

Last night was my school's first fish fry of the season. I worked for a couple of hours serving up green beans, french fries and shrimp. It started out slow, but then grew to a crazy-long line. It ended up being like the childhood game "Telephone." The first person serving would get the order, serve the fish, tell the pasta person what to serve (red or white pasta) and give the tray to the pasta person. They would serve up the pasta and tell me what to put on the tray. I'd serve up the sides I was responsible for, and give it to the final person, letting them know if they were getting cole slaw or clam chowder. Last night, like most experiences, I connected again with my writing life.

You have to listen carefully. There are times when our writer friends give us some feedback. Some advice. We have to listen carefully, even if the advice might involve lots of work, and even when it's not something we want to hear. However, taking the time to digest the critique or the suggestion might result in a change that results in a piece getting published.

And now, onto book blurb stuff that I'm a day late with:

Look at the photo below. That is the cover of your book. You choose the genre. An informational book on farm animals? A romance between a cow and a handsome bull who's full of bull? You decide.

Write an enticing blurb--150 words or less. (The title doesn't count in the word count.) Blurbs are those enticing bits that prod you into buying the book. Sometimes they're on the back cover of the book. Sometimes they're on the inside front cover. What they always try to do is lure you into purchasing the book.

Lisa Ricard Claro was the original creator of this writing challenge. However, she's been busy for the last few years. A three-book publishing deal. Another novel (or two) in

Include your blurb in a blog post. Include a link to this post. Also, link your post to Mr. Linky. Mr. Linky is easy. If you've never done it, you'll be impressed with how simple he is. And then, check out the other blurb(s). It's interesting to see the different directions writers take, given the same photo.

Here's the book cover, along with my blurb:

The Milk of Human Kindness:  A Mother’s Plea

Bess E. was the top cow in the field. The chief moooover and shaker.

She’d been in the pasture long enough to know something was up. Their calves would hang, not leaving since the milk was free, then they’d disappear. The babies would start getting a bit chubby, big trucks would rumble in, the crying cowlets would get shoved into the truck--never to be seen again.

Bess E. was determined to find out where all those calves were going. She put on her earring, twitched her tail around to get the dust off her flanks, and after trampling down part of the fence, headed on a journey.

What she finds out shocks her… and drives her to go back so she can warn the rest of her cow colleagues.

As she trots home, she keeps thinking, We need to go on strike. No more breeding until things change. (149 words)  

And for the writer (and I'm talkin' bout you, Val) who likes to work ahead, here is the photo for next week:

Four Reasons to Slow Down... and Stop

         This was what the sky looked one early morning. I got out of my car and instead of heading into my school building, I looked in a different direction... and saw this sunrise. (I know my photography skills are laughable but it was a gorgeous sky.) The beautiful colors reminded me of one reason to stop occasionally:

You might miss something if you insist on always charging forward. The middle school boys had a big-deal basketball game on Saturday, part of a 52nd annual tournament my school hosts. Our team was behind by 20 points. They were younger and smaller than the other team and our basket had a lid on it.

I stepped out of the gym and into the hall to talk to a few parents. While I was gone, the game ended, and the boys had closed the gap to the point they were only 6 points behind. I'd missed it! (They have their second game tonight, and you can be sure I won't leave the gym for a single minute--not until the final buzzer sounds.)

You won't get to hear a story--it'll be gone forever. Yesterday I was in a bit of a rush to get to a meeting by 4. A student wanted to talk after school. That was cool--I still had plenty of time. But when I walked out, I saw a family that lives close to the school. They were out on their porch. I walked up their steps, meaning to just chat for a minute, and ended up talking for almost thirty minutes. In that short time, they asked, "What's the story behind your name?" (and I told them), they shared how mental illness has touched their family, I shared how it's touched mine... and if I hadn't stopped by, I would have missed out on feeling that sense of kinship.

You won't laugh as much. Savoring a joke, or responding with humor instead of frustration--that usually takes a bit more time. Definitely, however, the extra time is worth it.

Your belly won't get rubbed as much. Whoops. This one, I learned from Lizzie. Lizzie is a tripod who lives in my school's neighborhood. Usually she's on a walk when I'm getting out of my car, and I get to pet her. Lizzie knows what's important. As her mom is trying to coax her into continuing the walk, Lizzie knows it's more important to flop down into the grass and roll over so I can rub her tummy. Sometimes she decides to just lie down on the ground for a while and feel the breeze. Wouldn't life be more pleasant if we all lived life more like Lizzie?

And if you want to hear about the writing things I've learned from a television show I love, go here. 

And how about you? What have you seen or enjoyed lately, that you would have missed out on if you'd rushed by it?

A Phone Call, an Audition and Back-of-the-Book Blurb Friday #49

This week I had an incredible encounter on the phone.

For months (literally) I have been emailing and calling a man who works at the National Museum of African American History in D.C. His grandfather typed up a 10-page first person document of a bit of our history that we've swept under the rug for almost a century. I've seen the cover page on the internet:  its yellowed pages and faded ink taunt me.

This man's voicemail box quickly filled up; I could no longer leave a message. My emails remained unanswered.

Yesterday I called during my prep period, figuring it would be another bit of momentary frustration. Miracle of miracles, he answered.

We spoke. Since he has donated his grandfather's document to the museum, there are several of his colleagues who would love access to it. He said he would check with the curator, he suggested some books, and I was left encouraged... and hopeful.

And the audition? I got an email this week--I am one of the 30 writers chosen to audition for the Listen to Your Mother St. Louis Show. Three of my writing critique partners--Linda O'Connell, Lynn Obermoeller and Kim Lehnhoff--also made the cut. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that all four of us make it.

And now, onto book blurb fun...

Look at the photo below. That is the cover of your book. You choose the genre. A time travel tale, where a fun-loving group of hooligans try to reenact Thelma and Louise's trip? A how-to book explaining how to refold travel maps?  You decide.

Write an enticing blurb--150 words or less. (The title doesn't count in the word count.) Blurbs are those enticing bits that prod you into buying the book. Sometimes they're on the back cover of the book. Sometimes they're on the inside front cover. What they always try to do is lure you into purchasing the book.

Lisa Ricard Claro was the original brain behind this project. She's got her own editing business. She's gotten a multi-novel publishing deal... and now that those three books are out, she's working on more. Check out her site. You'll enjoy her posts and you'll learn something.

Include your blurb in a blog post. Include a link to this post. Also, link your post to Mr. Linky. Mr. Linky is easy. If you've never done it, you'll be impressed with how simple he is. And then, check out the other blurb(s). It's interesting to see the different directions writers take, given the same photo.

Here's the book cover and the blurb:

photo by pixabay

Back in Time… Into the Darkness

Because of technology, amazing things now happened.

The iphone 27 has time-traveling capabilities. With a swift swipe, the camera captures what the person--or the scene--looked like decades ago.

A couple wants to remember what they looked like on their wedding day fifty years ago? Just aim the phone their way, and there the bride and groom would be, their unwrinkled faces smiling in the screen.

A family wants to recall what their family neighborhood looked like when they moved in ten years ago? An easy feat with the new phone.

The police are even using them to recreate--with 100% accuracy--a crime scene. There’s no need for security cameras now. Just make the correct time setting, point and shoot… and they can see who did the shooting.

But now the phone’s being used for sinister purposes… it’s being used to do heinous things. And there seems to be no stopping it... (150 words)

And for those writers who like to work ahead and toil on their reviews (like you, Val), here is the photo (from Pixabay) for next week:

A Random Autobiography

My students wrote random autobiographies a couple of weeks ago. On Friday the kids had a writing buffet, which meant they got to read several of the poems written by their classmates, after which they commented on them via written feedback. Their poems were mind-blowing. For most of them, it was their best writing so far.

In case you've never written a random autobiography, here are the rules:

• The way you order/organize your memories should be random. The moments in your life should come zinging out at the reader, in an unpredictable, willy-nilly order (not chronological). 
• The piece usually ends up a free verse poem.
• Other than those uptight, rigid rules... there are no rules.

Below is a poem I wrote as a model for them.

When I was four, I loved dogs so much,

when I got a bad staph infection

and we had to give all my stuffed animals

and our dog Duchess away,

I cried.

For years…

For years I’d look out my bedroom window

and yearn for another dog...

until

we got

another dog,

and

we named her Lady.

After that, my crying for a dog stopped,

and I’ve had a dog ever since.

Sledding down the hill when I was 10,

I loved dodging the trees

as I flew like a rocket.

Snow in my boots,

my mittens caked with ice and muddied snow,

I’d sled for hours.

The danger was part of the fun.

Riding a bike when I was 12,

I’d think about riding with no hands.

I wanted to be just like the cool kids,

with their hands up in the air

while they coasted down the street.

I’d lift my hands off the handlebars

for just a second

until scared,

I’d grab them again

and hold on tight.

There were some dangers I dared to do.

Others, I was too chicken to even try.

When I was nine I spent a whole day in a cave.

Sliding down clay-slick hills,

crawling through cramped spaces,

exploring the cool pools of water.

That night, my mom threw away the clothes

I’d worn in the cave.

The reddish-brown stains had become permanent,

a reminder of my underground fun.

When I was 6, I took a tour at Bonfils Elementary

on my first day of 1st grade.

The teacher said to our class,

as we stood in the hall,

“Here is the lavatory.”

My eyes got as round and big as pie plates.

A science lab!

A place to do experiments!

I was antsy with excitement,

until I learned that lavatory

was just another word for a bathroom.

When I was 8,

I went up and down my street

on my skates.

The key hung on a dingy, frayed shoelace

around my neck.

After I took the skates off,

I could still feel the vibration,

my feet thrumming over the cracked sidewalk

even though the skates were put away

in the closet.

Skating made me feel free…

When I was four my grandfather spanked me.

It was the first and only time.

I didn’t listen to him,

didn’t use the fudgsicle wrapper

to catch the drips,

and he got mad.

My hard head got me into lots of trouble.

I could also write about learning to ride a bike

when I was 7

and getting into an accident.

I could share how I once had a 12-foot pet

boa constrictor wrapped around me when I was four…

which made me fall in love with snakes.

I could also write about my first airplane trip to Ohio,

by myself,

when I was 12,

and my aunt and uncle got the date screwed up

and forgot to pick me up.

But no,

I think I’ll save that for another poem...

How about you? What memory or memories would you include in a random autobiography?