I had a fantastic and blessed time in upper central New York last week, visiting schools and a library to talk about writing!

An amazing, conscientious librarian (herself a writer) had some grant money to spend, and she contacted me out of the blue to see if I’d be interested in being one of the authors to visit her community of Homer, New York, this fall. Of course I jumped at the chance! I have to thank our own Morwenna here. This librarian found my new book release in the SCBWI Bulletin — and it was our Morwenna, true friend and dedicated follower of this blog, who urged me to let the Bulletin know about the book’s publication. So without Morwenna, this gig in New York would not have come about! Thank you, M.!

Now, get this: in the lineup of authors, one of the others is Tamora Pierce! So I was one of four visiting Homer this autumn, and another of the four is Tamora Pierce. It’s kind of like how, on shelves in the fantasy sections of bookstores, “Durbin” gets shelved next to “Dunsany.”

Anyway, I was selected precisely because I’m not famous. Heh, heh! Apparently some other authors backed out, and the librarian saw me, and I was very affordable (I’d talk to people about writing for free if I had the chance). Let’s give her a name: Priscilla. Priscilla said she chose me because she wanted to introduce the kids to a writer they didn’t yet know, whose books they hadn’t yet devoured. She very generously offered me a stipend that was far more than I would have made at Greenstar that week, plus she put me up in the Holiday Inn Express!

As it turned out, my car was due for annual inspection (Pennsylvania state law), so I did that on Monday. The mechanic informed me that I had big problems. The ominous groaning and grinding I’d been hearing was not a matter of loose plastic rubbing against the wheel, as I’d hoped. My car was about to lose a ball joint. I’d never heard people talk about the ball joints on their cars before I moved here, and now I hear about them all the time. Pittsburgh is terribly hard on ball joints, with its ubiquitous potholes. So anyway, I couldn’t drive my car out of town. The joint could have broken at any time, which would have been catastrophic: loss of steering, loss of the front axle. So I had to rent a car. That was safe and made for a very pleasant trip — nice, new engine, no worries, and a splendid CD player, so I was in music Heaven as I cruised along admiring the fall foliage. But the profit I would have made from the grant was more than swallowed up by renting a car and paying my mechanic for repairs. Oh, well . . . nothing can subtract from the experience and the value of talking to young people about how to unlock their inner writers. As I said, I’d do it for free. I’d do it at a financial loss. I did it!

I spent Monday and Tuesday preparing. Three cheers for Staples! You can have them make fantastic posters for you — take in a Word document on a flash drive, and they can print out big, professional-looking visual aids.

Wednesday, I drove north and east, across parts of Pennsylvania and New York. Spectacular scenery — the perfect time of year to travel!

I also have to praise the Holiday Inn Express. They offer the most incredible “free” breakfasts — eggs in various styles, day by day — sausage patties, pancakes, cinnamon rolls, cereal, yoghurt, juices, milk, biscuits and gravy, coffee on tap 24 hours a day . . . they know how to be a hotel. (“An hotel,” Hagiograph says.) Very nice to start the day with a solid meal.

On Thursday morning, Priscilla arrived to meet me and lead me to the elementary school in nearby Truxton, where I spoke to a large group of fourth- through sixth-graders.

At 4:00 that afternoon, I conducted a workshop at the Phillips Free Library in Homer for a group of young people in grades 4-8, most of whom were already interested in writing fantasy and are actively engaged in it. Some of the kids from the morning talk at Truxton came, which astonished me! They came back for more! Priscilla ordered pizza, and I had a delightful time after the workshop eating pizza and talking with two young guys who reminded me so much of myself at that age — burgeoning writers delighted to find an adult conversant in all things Tolkien, who agrees that LOTR is the real deal. We had a good laugh about how the seven rings for the Dwarf-lords had very little effect. There are no Dwarf Nazgul; that’s for sure! The rings only made them a little more Dwarvish. They became a little more proud and secretive; they loved their wrought metals and hoarded gold a little more. But in general, they cared not a whit for what was going on outside their mountain fastnesses, so they were of no use at all to Sauron. Yeah! And of course, the three rings Celebrimbor made . . . the hand of Sauron never touched them.

Anyway, the Main Event was that night. The grant was primarily for the presentation I did for the general public at the Phillips Free Library, and it was well-attended! The seats were filled, and some people were standing! My talk was called “Worlds From Words: The Joy of Writing Fantasy for Children.” I spoke about writing for kids, how I got started as a writer, about writing fantasy in general, and about my writing process. The supportive crowd had many excellent questions and seemed to come away energized and inspired. And I was truly blown away and humbled by Priscilla’s introduction of me. She read The Star Shard between the time she found me and the time I arrived in Homer, and she loved it!

When the talk was over, we had a book-signing, and I was kept joyfully busy! The local independent bookstore had plenty of copies of The Star Shard, and I even sold a couple of Dragonfly paperbacks that I’d brought along.

I basked in the atmosphere of the Phillips Free Library — it’s a lovely building, with pillars and a mezzanine where the YA section is housed, and a basement restored from its coal-furnace days, but still with the original brickwork, now scrubbed and handsome. From the enthusiastic crowd, I could tell how much a part of the community the library is, and how diligent the librarian and her staff are in celebrating reading and doing their utmost to make the library a happening place. As I was setting up, there were story hours going on . . . and the fall lineup of authors visiting is simply staggering! I wish I could have stayed there all autumn!

On Friday, I spoke to three groups of about 40 fourth-graders each at the Homer Intermediate School. Again, delightful! They had me speaking in a state-of-the-art auditorium, which is probably the most exciting room I’ve ever talked in. The kids were into it and asked excellent questions.

“Out of the mouths of babes,” they say. One young man in one of the three groups summarized an answer I’d given about the process of trying to get your work published. “So, just write good stories,” he said. Yes. Just write good stories.

I left them with the Paul Darcy Boles quote: “We are all storytellers sitting around the cave of the world.” We who write are engaged in the oldest and most fundamental human activity. We are one with our ancestors, who huddled around fires in the caves and told stories for inspiration, comfort, and entertainment as the wild beasts prowled in the dark outside. We are linked with people of other times, other countries, the past, present, and future. Our stories can outlive us. We make something where nothing existed before — lasting substance out of blank paper, out of invisible thoughts. We change the world for the better.

Finally, on Friday night, Priscilla hosted a reception at her house. With all the work done, I had the joy and honor of meeting the local writers’ group. We had fantastic food and sat around her living room, talking about writing, cryptozoology, books, movies, and the history of the region until all hours. It was a truly wonderful evening!

Then the next day, I drove back through the Allegheny National Forest, through the gold and russet and amber and red and green, back to other adventures, back to the telling of tales. This was a week to remember. I hope I inspired, and I came away inspired. I need to work my way back to teaching — that’s where it’s at!

Soli Deo Gloria!