Mae’s new book was recently released. I’m halfway through and highly recommend it. Beautiful, sincere writing offering direct connection/insight into the novel’s young heroine as she navigates a brand new life in San Francisco, CA.
Mae was my workshop leader at February’s Big Sur Children’s Writers Workshops. She’s a gem in the kidlit world–read a few pages of ISABEL and you will immediately know why. I was lucky to meet her and hope our paths cross again in the future.
Takes me a while to recycle rough drafts because: Cats.
For instance, here is Shadow snoozing for the next week on draft #10000000000000000000…
Yours in almost TGIF,
PB
Instagram: @pbrippey1
I have been busy since this post as I worked to meet self-imposed deadlines and requests for my writing, however now it’s spring break for my teen, and although we’re not going on a lengthy trip this year (last year: Route 66/Mitchell Caverns and other oddities) we have already visited family in my hometown, e-biked and eaten pizza instead of chicken/rice and green smoothies, relished a mini-break from normal shenanigans. Last night we watched the Space X rocket launch from my niece’s deck. Sparked (ha-ha?) in me so many questions/thoughts/reflections on my history with launches, and it’s the first sonic boom I’ve experienced that was a low, rolling thunder rather than a windows-rattling kaboom, all of which I tried to explain to my teen, but he is a cat whisperer and was very busy connecting with my niece’s two rescues.
Yours in remembering that mini-breaks are psyche-reviving,
PB
Writers Day 2024 is my favorite SCBWI annual event as it’s held at the Skirball (therefore sentimental–when my teen was a toddler I took him to the museum’s Noah’s Ark exhibit, often). Lunch is included with the price and is not only reliably delicious, but served on an outdoor patio with a view of indigenous California nature. Right on.
A plethora of books are for sale, keynotes and breakout sessions are stellar–but go, experience it for yourself. And if you see me careening about (I am volunteering again this year), shout: PB! and I’ll freeze, focus and be so glad to greet you.
I don’t know if agent-pitch slots are still available. If so? Sign up.
Yours in memorizing loglines,
PB
Instagram: @pbrippey1
My only criticism of this conference: No critique groups should have been held in the lobby/lounge area of the hotel. The noise level there was distressing. Critique groups held in faculty suites should have been the norm (deeper critique shared and connections made because of the calm/quiet).
I had one critique group in a faculty member’s suite, one in the dreaded (though so pretty): Lobby/lounge.
That being said, both critique mentors I was assigned encouraged discussion, made time for writers to ask questions about publishing/writing/agents/editors/etc. Listening to the work of other MG writers was priceless, for me. I felt humbled and inspired (so many beautiful ideas in the making).
More perks: Editors panel, agents panel and lectures.
Yours in learning more about what you love (especially if the learning takes place in Monterey),
PB
2nd day, Big Sur Children’s Writers Workshops held not in Big Sur (Hwy 1 such a mess this time of year) but in Monterey, 4.5 hrs from home.
I came to Monterey the day before the conference started and with my husband–a mini-break for parents. We explored Cannery Row, Pacific Grove (I’m a 7th generation Californian–I’ve been coming to Monterey since I was a kid–but it’s still endlessly fascinating to me and so fun to share with my husband): otters, surf explosions, in-your-face beauty.
All of which helped settle my psyche into ‘all is well’, because despite not being a newbie to critique, I get nervous when it’s my turn to read my own work to writers I’ve just met.
I am: listening to editors answer questions about their world, listening to authors describe personal writing processes, connecting with other middle grade writers, enjoying meals at a venue curving around an Ireland-green golf course lined in cypress trees.
A woman in one of my critique groups traveled to Monterey from Halifax, Nova Scotia. She arrived late to the group, jet-lagged, exhausted–and read the most profound prologue to her YA work-in-progress.
Magic.
Yours in meeting new writers and agents and editors and trying to keep names with faces (I swear I’m paying attention, but I seriously think I have that thing Jane Goodall has),
PB.
PS. PB does not stand for picture book or peanut butter. It’s my nickname and my writing name. Have I not mentioned this?
Pre-kidlit conference exploration of Cannery Row and dinner in Pacific Grove. Visiting Pacific Marine Laboratories never gets old as I can never not seem to romanticize Ed Ricketts. Never actually explored neighboring P. Grove before–its views are, to plop a cliche, sweeping. Next up: the kidlit conference.
Yours in exploring,
PB
This weekend is the Big Sur Children’s Writing Workshops/conference in Monterey. I’m going up a day early to prep. But before any conference prep is house-prep, cleaning the guest room for my inlaws, baking for the ravenous teen–mini pizzas, egg/bacon mini quiches, steak/cheese paninis (pressing them myself ha ha!), a Shepherd’s Pie for everyone and I’m sure I’ll think of more. Before I leave=setting up the cats’ feeding station, getting the crazy-girl’s food ready for easy doggy feedings vs. manic, figuring out how the new portable printer works (the thermal rolls of paper are scaring me), packing like I’m going away for 2 weeks, remembering umbrellas, rainboots, my fingerless mittens, and leaving is scrubbing bathrooms and the kitchen floor and the refrigerator’s handles and any other handles I come across, washing dog blankets ‘protecting’ the claws-punctured couch and cleaning the patio in case there’s a freak heatwave and people want to read out there and I mustn’t forget gassing up the minivan and putting every coat I own into the back of it as I’m constantly fickle about what to wear and I need to remember my phone charger and cordless phone charger and memory sticks and everything I had Office Depot print out for me yesterday and there’s walking the dog and gazing at rain-washed nature and I’m leaving really early in the morning so all this needs to be done NOW, so hang on, Monterey–get all your power back on, all your internet connections up and running now that the storm has passed–for now–and I’ll see you shortly and please, O San Andreas Fault: No hurriquakes.
Yours in packing and see you tomorrow by the sea, which (like my Valencia mountains) makes everything better,
PB
Don’t miss the latest edition of Kite Tales (tri-region SCBWI blog) and the marvelous interview with April Halprin Wayland by Paige Vinten Taylor. Even if writing kidlit poetry is not your thing, there is valuable (IMO) writing advice/insights packed into one little interview–excellent!
Yours in keeping our creative minds humming,
PB
So far I’ve been successful in tearing my eyes away from the ocean in order to revise my new novel, the same novel I’m taking to the Big Sur Children’s Writing Workshops next month, the novel that placed (tooting my horn again) in the Sue Alexander Grant Competition last year (still reeling).
However, after I post this I will allow myself a little time to return to staring and hopefully spy the otter swimming by yesterday when I arrived in this glorious room (the hotel is thoughtful enough to provide binoculars for their guests). Eventually I will schlep, slowly, up and down the beach, but sitting and staring is fine, just fine. The constant white noise from the waves has probably lowered my BP by many points and it’s fun to let loose my inner pyro to build and tend wood burning fires.
If you’re going to the workshops next month, let me know! I’ve met two writers at this retreat who will be attending. It was thrilling for little old hermit-writing me to have dinner with them last night and about 20 other writers and prove to myself once again that writers are definitely NOT introverts when socializing with their herd. Right on.
Yours in the soothing shush shush of ocean waves,
PB
January is good.
Seen on my first powerwalk of 2024. The only bird that can fly backwards. Did you know they also catch insects with their whip-tongues?
Yours in birds as symbols of hope in 2024 (except when crows bully hawks–also seen on first powerwalk of year),
PB
Survived Trader Joe’s this morning (oh–you too?).
Watched closely by the cats, occasionally removing them from boxes, we de-Christmased the house. “WHAT ALREADY???” my friend texted. But we’ve had Christmas since 11/23, when we decorated our faux tree. As much of a Crazy Christmas Lady as I am, even I am ready to face 2024 w/out blinking lights and a Santa face in mine wherever I turn.
After packing up my favorite season, we’ll eat Panda Express and play Santa’s gift to us of Cards Against Humanity Family Edition.
And then we’ll drift to various parts of the house, gaming, reading, puttering, playing the piano and guitar (one of us enjoying a hot, lavender scented bath), until the ball drops.
Yours in wishing for Peace and a 2024 filled with promise,
PB.
Happy Everything Nice as we rocket towards 2024!
Yours in beloveds,
PB
When I close my laptop and the house isn’t stirring, not even a cat (or a teen), tiredx10 from walking the crazy girl earlier in the day, bleary-eyed from revising topics I must believe in because I keep on writing and keep on revising them, I sit before our tree decorated in memories and it reminds me to breathe.
Yours in it-must-be-time-for-bed,
PB
Yours in staying active this holiday season,
PB
Welcome to December! aka Revisionmas! Which has everything to do with this photo.
Yours in Christmas decorations up since Thanksgiving Day, a return to writing at night in addition to weekday dawns, and yours in the art and agony and thrill(s) of revision–and of course yours in school holidays, meaning instead of carpooling teens, I can continue revising (clarifying note: I enjoy carpooling the teens, especially when they’re feeling chatty, but even when they’re not, because these are the good old days),
PB
Daylight Savings Time; my dad would have been 83 today; it’s 87F in my neck of the woods until maybe midweek; we are prepping for our son’s 16th birthday party–I have purchased glow-in-the-dark beachballs that can have the s*** pounded out of them by 10 teens, we have ordered pizzas with customized flavors, and crispy chicken wings, and Mr. Beast chocolate chip cookies.
And then there’s: revising, which I’ve decided is an art + bane one wears around one’s neck invisible-stole-style, comfort and needles.
Yours in a productive November and yours in sympathy and encouragement when walking dogs, like mine, that are both Bambi and Cujo,
PB
Am late to every party. Sad, that. Happy last Halloween!
Yours in using an awl to punch holes in your jack-o-lantern for a different effect,
PB
I’ve got a pretty good rhythm going revising: 2 kidlit/eco-fiction novels and 2 women’s fiction novels. I am a morning person now–not sure I’m TRULY a 5:30a.m. morning person? But that alarm seems to work if I want to feel as if I’ve really made progress in a day packed with some form of exercise (hiking 2 miles w/Crazy-Girl dog or swimming laps), a sick teen, all the endless errands, and the needs of 6 pets (including Crazy-Girl).
I think the first thing any writer should be told by any keynote speaker, anywhere, is: revision is what writing your novel is/writing your novel is revision.
But you already know that.
And here is a coyote I saw from my bedroom windows the other morning. Clearly amply fed/watered, healthy coat, surviving well–she/he made my day. I mean, look at her/him! Could win the SoCal Coyote category Best In Show–easily.
Yours in what-else-but: revision,
Revision
Right now? I could be a NYTimes Connections puzzle, complete with the requisite 4 answers: Through-line. Grammar. Deep Breaths. In N Out French Fries.
Hint: What PB Rippey does after Momming around town and pacifying the mini-zoo.
Theme: Revision.
Answers: See above
Yours in pursuing self-imposed writing deadlines and writing that includes research on pteranodons,
PB
In addition to first and foremost helping my teen weather the whatever-thing going after his stomach for the last 3 weeks, meeting kidlit contest deadlines and women’s fiction contest deadlines and revising my current kidlit stable of novels and my women’s fiction stable of novels in addition to continuing to recover from Covid (my teen continues to test negative for Covid, thank goodness), not to mention tending to the mini-zoo and Crazy Girl we love so much featured in the photo–
forgot where I was going with this (lingering Covid fog?).
Maybe see previous post where I won something AMAZING.
Yours in restorative 20 mins naps,
PB
I went from stepping away (previous post) to receiving 4th place in this year’s SCBWI Sue Alexander Grant competition for my MG novel THE MONSTER AT ELIZABETH LAKE.
I am beyond thrilled.
Nothing like good news to keep my butt in my swivel office chair, revising.
I discovered I received 4th Place by reading Kite Tales this morning. I had been notified by email a couple of days ago, but via my gmail account, which I sometimes forget to check. Doh!!! I began reading about the winners and I was all sad and sorry for myself, although happy for the winners (their books sound amazing) and, suddenly, there was my name.
Very grateful.
Yours in working hard on what you love,
PB
You know how so many books on creativity, or self-help books by therapists, psychologists, or self-help websites and apps advise stepping away from your work and going on an artist-date with your creative-self in order to receive fresh ideas, answers to confounding plot points or an end to writer’s block?
Mission accomplished.
Yours in natural wonders,
PB
Recently we drove from Valencia (mountains) to Ventura (ocean!!!) on the 126 Hwy, which took us through good old Fillmore (fields, strip malls/classic train depot…). My husband and I were stunned by the number of popup fireworks booths Fillmore displayed by the highway. At least a dozen? Their canopies emblazoned in red script promising explosions.
Fillmore is in Ventura County and unlike Los Angeles County has NOT banned the sale of fireworks, despite the 1 gigantic fire hazard spreading from Valencia to Fillmore to Santa Paula to the coast. Citrus orchards, but also dry fields. Dry mountains. Tumbleweeds.
Because of Ventura County’s short-sightedness, Fillmore is a fireworks purchasing hub for Los Angeles County and beyond–certainly for those in my little Valencian neighborhood intent on 4th of July mischief.
This 4th of July falls in the middle of an ongoing heatwave (but when doesn’t it). As we lounged on one of our favorite beaches, my husband and I went over our 4th list: veggie hot dogs, lemonade, frozen watermelon chunks, de-crimped garden hoses and backup hoses, fire dept/sheriff on speed dial.
Check.
Last year, partying neighbors a few doors down set off a Roman candle in the street around 11pm. The hissing/spitting candle was a couple of stories tall and so wide an approaching car had to stop and wait for it to die before proceeding safely along the street. Most of my other neighbors barged out of their houses shouting, WTH. When I yelled: Okay, no more! at the offending neighbors (new neighbors) breaking the law, the reply was: I don’t like your tone!
Happy safe 4th of July.
Yours in an abundant supply of garden hoses and yours in lovely beaches that say shhhhh,
PB
PB Rippey Writes 
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