The chili supper and auction (see below) was a huge success. We raised over three times as much money as we were hoping.
And the basket of children’s books turned out great. Here are the books that were included, donated by the authors:
Logan West: Printer’s Devil
by Christie Merriman Breault
The Middle of Somewhere
by J.B. Cheaney
• Kansas Notable Book
Airball: My Life in Briefs
by L.D. Harkrader
• Kansas Notable Book
• William Allen White Award
Ferret Island
by Richard W. Jennings
Shoelaces
by Suzanne Lieurance
plus a book for adults:
101 Great Ways to Improve Your Life
with an essay on writing by Suzanne Lieurance
Thank you, thank you, thank you, Christy, J.B. (Janie), Richard, and Suzanne, for helping us out.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Bad, Bad Blogger Part 2, Long-lost Relatives, and Chili
Yes, I’ve again slipped into my Bad, Bad Blogger personality. Sometimes I’m Jekyll, the Good Blogger, who faithfully posts regular updates on her life and writing (whether anyone wants them or not). And sometimes I’m Hyde, who slips out of the blog habit for so long that it becomes a sore spot and she begins scowling and growling out of guilt and humiliation. I’ve been Hyde since June, which is way too long, especially since my cousin, who lives half the country away from me and I almost never see, and my neice, who lives only a few counties away but I also hardly ever see, posted comments on my last blog post and probably think I’m snubbing them.
I’m not snubbing you, Jonni and DD. I’m just a bad, bad blogger.
I’ve been doing a lot of things since June, not the least of which was traveling down to Emporia, Kansas, for the William Allen White ceremony in October. Wow. What a celebration. I’ll post more about it soon, I promise. (And I’m Jekyll now, so you can believe me.) For now let me just say that my fervent wish for every children’s writer is for each of you to win the WAW and be treated like royalty for a weekend.
My project right now (besides writing) is helping my son’s 4-H club put together a chili supper and auction to raise money for one of our members, a sophomore at my son’s high school, who is having a kidney transplant. I’m putting together a basket of signed books as one of the auction items, so if any writers would like to donate a book for the basket, email me at lisahark@aol.com and I’ll send you a mailing address.
The image above is the flyer I designed for the fundraiser.
I’m not snubbing you, Jonni and DD. I’m just a bad, bad blogger.
I’ve been doing a lot of things since June, not the least of which was traveling down to Emporia, Kansas, for the William Allen White ceremony in October. Wow. What a celebration. I’ll post more about it soon, I promise. (And I’m Jekyll now, so you can believe me.) For now let me just say that my fervent wish for every children’s writer is for each of you to win the WAW and be treated like royalty for a weekend.
My project right now (besides writing) is helping my son’s 4-H club put together a chili supper and auction to raise money for one of our members, a sophomore at my son’s high school, who is having a kidney transplant. I’m putting together a basket of signed books as one of the auction items, so if any writers would like to donate a book for the basket, email me at lisahark@aol.com and I’ll send you a mailing address.The image above is the flyer I designed for the fundraiser.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Father’s Day
Buying gifts for my dad has never been easy. He hates for people he cares about to spend their money on him. He’d much rather we spend a frugal amount—wisely—on the things we need, then save the rest. Every time a gift-giving holiday rolls around, we end up having the same conversation:
Me: Hey, Dad, what do you want for Christmas?
Dad: Socks.
Me: Hey, Dad, what do you want for your birthday?
Dad: Socks.
Me: Hey, Dad, what do you want for Father’s Day?
Dad: Well, I could use some socks.
Once in a while he’ll mix things up and ask for underwear, but usually it’s socks, and we’re not talking fun-to-buy, fun-to-give, fun-to-wear socks. We’re not going for anything flashy or trendy, not even a tasteful argyle. When it comes to socks, my dad likes exactly one kind: white cotton crew socks from J.C. Penney.
I’ve never been the most obedient child, so I ditched the whole idea of sock giving when I was about eight. And I have to say that although Shopping for Dad will never be an exact science, my sister and I have managed to raise it to an art form. We usually manage to think of something Dad will really like and really use (which is redundant because, in my dad’s world, if he can’t use it, he isn’t going to like it). But even if he loves the gift (like the plug-in refrigerator he now uses in his van when he travels), he can never open it without grumbling. This is the unvarying scene:
Dad (knotting his eyebrows together and giving the wrapped package a stern and suspicious look): You know you didn’t have to get me anything.
My sister and me (rolling our eyes): We know. Open it.
Dad (while taking an infuriatingly long time to peel back the tape, carefully lift the box from the paper, then fold the paper into a neat square before giving the gift a stern and suspicious look): I would’ve been happy with socks.
Us (rolling our eyes): We know. But what do you think? Isn’t it cool?
Dad (knotting his eyebrows together and giving my sister and me a stern and suspicious look): Oh, yeah, it’s cool all right. How much did it cost?
Us: Hardly anything. It was on clearance. That’s why we can’t take it back.
Dad (rolling his eyes): Right.
This year, Dad’s lady friend, Cissy, gave us the perfect idea for a Father’s Day gift. Dad and Cissy spend their winters in Texas at a retirement community, where Dad golfs two or three times a week. Dad has used the same set of golf clubs for at least twenty years, and I use the term “set” loosely here—he’s cobbled it together from clubs my brother didn’t want any more, supplemented by an iron or wood here and there that he picked up from garage sales.
The guys in the retirement community are constantly telling Dad to buy new clubs, telling Cissy to make him buy new clubs, threatening to ban him from Texas if he doesn’t come back with new clubs, and for good reason—his old clubs are falling apart. The heads have been known to fly farther than his ball when he takes a swing, and he’s using the same covers that were on them when he bought them at the garage sale—some are fuzzy black, some are home-made brown knit with pom-poms on top and holes where the yarn has unraveled. He looks like a homeless person carrying around his wordly possessions in a mid-80s powder blue golf bag.
Cissy wanted to buy Dad new golf clubs, but she thought he’d take it better if we all went in on them together. So Friday, Cissy, my sister, and I went shopping. We got a great set, all graphite handles, with a driver bigger than my head. It came with a rain cover, matching golf club covers, and a snazzy new bag. We were so excited that we couldn’t wait till Father’s Day. We gave them to him that night.
And of course he knotted his eyebrows and grumbled about the money we spent (we told him we got them on sale at a store called Almost Free) and complained that his old clubs still had a lot of use in them.
But then he compared his shiny new eight iron with his old one and said, “Huh. No wonder I can’t ever get any lift with my eight. Look how much more slant this new one has.”
And he compared his new seven iron with the old one (the head of which is lying at the bottom of a water hazard in Texas) and said, “I guess I did need a new seven.”
Then we made him go out in the yard and take a couple swings with his new Volkswagen-sized driver. “Ball goes pretty straight,” he admitted, reluctantly.
By the time we left, he was still grumbling about how much money we’d spent, but his eyebrows had relaxed, and once we caught him actually smiling. I’m hoping that by the time we go over for dinner tonight, he will have forgiven us for not buying socks.
Me: Hey, Dad, what do you want for Christmas?
Dad: Socks.
Me: Hey, Dad, what do you want for your birthday?
Dad: Socks.
Me: Hey, Dad, what do you want for Father’s Day?
Dad: Well, I could use some socks.
Once in a while he’ll mix things up and ask for underwear, but usually it’s socks, and we’re not talking fun-to-buy, fun-to-give, fun-to-wear socks. We’re not going for anything flashy or trendy, not even a tasteful argyle. When it comes to socks, my dad likes exactly one kind: white cotton crew socks from J.C. Penney.
I’ve never been the most obedient child, so I ditched the whole idea of sock giving when I was about eight. And I have to say that although Shopping for Dad will never be an exact science, my sister and I have managed to raise it to an art form. We usually manage to think of something Dad will really like and really use (which is redundant because, in my dad’s world, if he can’t use it, he isn’t going to like it). But even if he loves the gift (like the plug-in refrigerator he now uses in his van when he travels), he can never open it without grumbling. This is the unvarying scene:
Dad (knotting his eyebrows together and giving the wrapped package a stern and suspicious look): You know you didn’t have to get me anything.
My sister and me (rolling our eyes): We know. Open it.
Dad (while taking an infuriatingly long time to peel back the tape, carefully lift the box from the paper, then fold the paper into a neat square before giving the gift a stern and suspicious look): I would’ve been happy with socks.
Us (rolling our eyes): We know. But what do you think? Isn’t it cool?
Dad (knotting his eyebrows together and giving my sister and me a stern and suspicious look): Oh, yeah, it’s cool all right. How much did it cost?
Us: Hardly anything. It was on clearance. That’s why we can’t take it back.
Dad (rolling his eyes): Right.
This year, Dad’s lady friend, Cissy, gave us the perfect idea for a Father’s Day gift. Dad and Cissy spend their winters in Texas at a retirement community, where Dad golfs two or three times a week. Dad has used the same set of golf clubs for at least twenty years, and I use the term “set” loosely here—he’s cobbled it together from clubs my brother didn’t want any more, supplemented by an iron or wood here and there that he picked up from garage sales.
The guys in the retirement community are constantly telling Dad to buy new clubs, telling Cissy to make him buy new clubs, threatening to ban him from Texas if he doesn’t come back with new clubs, and for good reason—his old clubs are falling apart. The heads have been known to fly farther than his ball when he takes a swing, and he’s using the same covers that were on them when he bought them at the garage sale—some are fuzzy black, some are home-made brown knit with pom-poms on top and holes where the yarn has unraveled. He looks like a homeless person carrying around his wordly possessions in a mid-80s powder blue golf bag.
Cissy wanted to buy Dad new golf clubs, but she thought he’d take it better if we all went in on them together. So Friday, Cissy, my sister, and I went shopping. We got a great set, all graphite handles, with a driver bigger than my head. It came with a rain cover, matching golf club covers, and a snazzy new bag. We were so excited that we couldn’t wait till Father’s Day. We gave them to him that night.
And of course he knotted his eyebrows and grumbled about the money we spent (we told him we got them on sale at a store called Almost Free) and complained that his old clubs still had a lot of use in them.
But then he compared his shiny new eight iron with his old one and said, “Huh. No wonder I can’t ever get any lift with my eight. Look how much more slant this new one has.”
And he compared his new seven iron with the old one (the head of which is lying at the bottom of a water hazard in Texas) and said, “I guess I did need a new seven.”
Then we made him go out in the yard and take a couple swings with his new Volkswagen-sized driver. “Ball goes pretty straight,” he admitted, reluctantly.
By the time we left, he was still grumbling about how much money we’d spent, but his eyebrows had relaxed, and once we caught him actually smiling. I’m hoping that by the time we go over for dinner tonight, he will have forgiven us for not buying socks.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
William Allen White Award!
I had a great time at the Young Writers’ Conference in Emporia last week, and I’ll post more about it soon. . .
. . . but speaking of Emporia, I found out that Airball: My Life in Briefs won this year’s William Allen White Award (which is named after famed Emporia newspaper editor William Allen White and is headquartered at Emporia State University). Hooray!
I’ll certainly post more about the award soon, too. This has been a crazy-busy week. Tomorrow I’m heading down to Andale Elementary (outside Wichita) to do a school visit for their William Allen White celebration.
. . . but speaking of Emporia, I found out that Airball: My Life in Briefs won this year’s William Allen White Award (which is named after famed Emporia newspaper editor William Allen White and is headquartered at Emporia State University). Hooray!
I’ll certainly post more about the award soon, too. This has been a crazy-busy week. Tomorrow I’m heading down to Andale Elementary (outside Wichita) to do a school visit for their William Allen White celebration.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Young Writers’ Conference
Saturday I’ll be talking to students in fifth through twelfth grades at the Young Writers Conference in Emporia, Kansas, and as the time draws nearer, I’m getting more and more excited (nervous, too, but mostly excited). This conference is a very big deal. In the last two days I’ve been interviewed by an Emporia newspaper and an Emporia radio station. Everyone down that way is really gearing up for a great time.
When I do presentations, I tell kids they can do whatever they set their minds to do. I’m usually referring to their pursuit of talents and dreams such as writing, dance, sports, music, acting, or other difficult and unconventional careers. But it applies to public speaking, too. Who among us is not terrified of speaking in front of an audience? Everyone. It’s universal. When I began writing, I never knew that a writer’s career would entail so much public speaking—school visits, conferences, workshops, book fairs, awards banquets, panel discussions. At first, I was terrified. And I still am to a certain extent. I don’t think the fear of public speaking ever completely goes away. But the more I do it, the more I enjoy it. And now I find speaking in public (dare I say it?). . . fun. Really.
So for kids out there whose knees knock together when they have to stand in front of their classmates and give an oral book report, or for writers whose knees knock together when they have to stand in front of other writers to speak at a conference, or for anyone whose knees knock together at the very thought of standing in front of an audience for any reason, I say: Do it anyway. It gets easier with practice, you’re probably a better speaker than you think you are, and if you do it enough, you might find you like it!
When I do presentations, I tell kids they can do whatever they set their minds to do. I’m usually referring to their pursuit of talents and dreams such as writing, dance, sports, music, acting, or other difficult and unconventional careers. But it applies to public speaking, too. Who among us is not terrified of speaking in front of an audience? Everyone. It’s universal. When I began writing, I never knew that a writer’s career would entail so much public speaking—school visits, conferences, workshops, book fairs, awards banquets, panel discussions. At first, I was terrified. And I still am to a certain extent. I don’t think the fear of public speaking ever completely goes away. But the more I do it, the more I enjoy it. And now I find speaking in public (dare I say it?). . . fun. Really.
So for kids out there whose knees knock together when they have to stand in front of their classmates and give an oral book report, or for writers whose knees knock together when they have to stand in front of other writers to speak at a conference, or for anyone whose knees knock together at the very thought of standing in front of an audience for any reason, I say: Do it anyway. It gets easier with practice, you’re probably a better speaker than you think you are, and if you do it enough, you might find you like it!
Go, Mize Elementary!
Wow. What a great visit I had at Mize Elementary last Friday. I talked with the third, fourth, and fifth grades, and the kids were great. They listened and asked terrific questions, and their teachers told me afterward that the presentation inspired them to come up with new writing projects of their own. I owe a big thank you to fifth grade teacher Suann Foster for inviting me.
Go, Mize!
Go, Mize!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Mize Elementary
Tomorrow, Friday, April 11, I will be visiting Mize Elementary in Shawnee, Kansas. I love talking to kids about writing. Heck, I love talking to anybody who’ll listen about writing. But I especially like talking to kids because I hope that if a budding young writer—or musician or actor or athlete or any kid who would like to take an unconventional career path—is sitting in the audience, he or she will see that it can be done. It’s not easy, but if you work and study and learn and keep at it, writing can be your career.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
ROCK CHALK!
Anyone who knows me—or has read Airball: My Life in Briefs—knows I am a hard-core Jayhawk basketball fan. I graduated from the University of Kansas in 1988, the year the Jayhawks last won the national championship, and they’ve been breaking my heart every basketball season since.Until now. Last night, in San Antonio, Texas, my beloved Jayhawks did it again. In an incredible, heart-stopping nail-biter, they came from behind to win 75–68 in overtime against a fabulous Memphis team.
So indulge me just a little, because at the risk of offending everyone in Memphis, North Carolina, and Missouri, I have to say:
Rock Chalk, Jayhawk! Go, KU!
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Appreciating Educators
As I said before, on Saturday, April 5, 2008, I’ll be part of a children’s book panel (that also includes my friend Jenny Whitehead, whom I haven’s seen in way too long) at the Borders on 119th and Metcalf in Overland Park, Kansas. Afterward, I’ll present a writing workshop in the café. The store is going all out to celebrate educators. Jenny at Borders sent me this flyer:
Educator Savings Week April 2nd-8th
Educators save 25% on purchases!
Friday April 4
Special Reception
4:00—8:00 PM
Food, fun and prizes!
Book Signing
4:00—6:00 PM
Dr. John Laurie, author of Managing the Game
Saturday April 5
Storytime
10:00—11:00 AM
Mary Anne Demeritt, author of The Twilight Ride of the Pink Fairy
Children’s Author Panel Event
12:00—2:00 PM
Local authors on hand to discuss their books or answer questions about getting published!
• Leigh Legere: Do Antelope Eat Cantaloupe
• Mary Anne Demeritt: The Twilight Ride of the Pink Fairy
• Jenny Whitehead: Holiday Stew and Lunch Box Mail
• Sandra Jacob: Smiling Faces
• Mary Martin: Miss Lilly and the Hollyhock Garden
• Jancy Morgan and Tom Dunn: If This Old Tree Could Talk To Me
• Lisa Harkrader: Airball: My Life in Briefs
Join us for crafts, food, games, contests and lots of fun!
Kansas City Writers Meetup Group
2:00 PM
Lisa Harkrader: “Tips and Tricks for Writing Effective Dialogue.”
Acoustic Guitar
4:00—6:00 PM
Singer-songwriter Bayley Kate will perform folk/indie rock.
Sunday April 6
Educator Escape!
2:00—4:00 PM
Take some time out for yourself and enjoy:
• The Yoga Studio of Johnson County
• Mary Kay
• 24hr Fitness
• Massage demonstrations
• Coffee and Tea Tasting
Wow! If you live in the area, drop by. This is some weekend they have planned.
Educator Savings Week April 2nd-8th
Educators save 25% on purchases!
Friday April 4
Special Reception
4:00—8:00 PM
Food, fun and prizes!
Book Signing
4:00—6:00 PM
Dr. John Laurie, author of Managing the Game
Saturday April 5
Storytime
10:00—11:00 AM
Mary Anne Demeritt, author of The Twilight Ride of the Pink Fairy
Children’s Author Panel Event
12:00—2:00 PM
Local authors on hand to discuss their books or answer questions about getting published!
• Leigh Legere: Do Antelope Eat Cantaloupe
• Mary Anne Demeritt: The Twilight Ride of the Pink Fairy
• Jenny Whitehead: Holiday Stew and Lunch Box Mail
• Sandra Jacob: Smiling Faces
• Mary Martin: Miss Lilly and the Hollyhock Garden
• Jancy Morgan and Tom Dunn: If This Old Tree Could Talk To Me
• Lisa Harkrader: Airball: My Life in Briefs
Join us for crafts, food, games, contests and lots of fun!
Kansas City Writers Meetup Group
2:00 PM
Lisa Harkrader: “Tips and Tricks for Writing Effective Dialogue.”
Acoustic Guitar
4:00—6:00 PM
Singer-songwriter Bayley Kate will perform folk/indie rock.
Sunday April 6
Educator Escape!
2:00—4:00 PM
Take some time out for yourself and enjoy:
• The Yoga Studio of Johnson County
• Mary Kay
• 24hr Fitness
• Massage demonstrations
• Coffee and Tea Tasting
Wow! If you live in the area, drop by. This is some weekend they have planned.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Kansas SCBWI Workshop
I had a wonderful day yesterday at the Kansas SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators) workshop, “Taking Care of Business: Marketing and Promoting.”
In the morning, I gave a presentation called “Promotion 101.” Which is ironic, considering that I don’t have a single sales gene in my entire body. When Airball: My Life in Briefs first came out, if you’d told me I’d soon be giving other writers tips on promotion, I would have first laughed and then passed out in terror at the mere thought of doing promotion.
I’ll never be an in-your-face promoter, but I have picked up a few things. My guiding principles for marketing are:
So I immediately came home and updated my site. Now instead of saying “About the Author,” the tabs on my web pages say “About L.D. Harkrader.” And the page they link to is LDHarkrader, rather than Author.
Duh.
In the morning, I gave a presentation called “Promotion 101.” Which is ironic, considering that I don’t have a single sales gene in my entire body. When Airball: My Life in Briefs first came out, if you’d told me I’d soon be giving other writers tips on promotion, I would have first laughed and then passed out in terror at the mere thought of doing promotion.
I’ll never be an in-your-face promoter, but I have picked up a few things. My guiding principles for marketing are:
- Don’t do things you hate. Try new things that may seem scary at first (like school visits—a terrific way to connect with readers, librarians, and teachers), but if you absolutely hate some kind of event or promotional effort, don’t do it. Life’s too short.
- Don’t spend a fortune. Plenty of free or low-cost opportunities (like sending out press releases or speaking at regional library conferences) exist.
- Focus on your own piece of the world. You can’t cover the whole country anyway, and the people who live in your region are probably going to be the ones who are most excited about your book.
So I immediately came home and updated my site. Now instead of saying “About the Author,” the tabs on my web pages say “About L.D. Harkrader.” And the page they link to is LDHarkrader, rather than Author.
Duh.
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