Invitation

Who could resist an invitation like this:

3 July 1872

Dear Mr Thayer, 

                                                                              

Come be a brave good cousin, and face our heats and solitudes on Friday eve… and we will give you a cup of tea, and piece of a moon and all the possibilities of Saturday….   

Your friend, R. W. Emerson                                                                                           

                                                                                              

This sweet, quirky invitation was one of the first things I read as I began researching the life of Ralph Waldo Emerson. And as soon as I read it, I thought, ‘I’ve got to write this book!’

Not that I knew what ‘this book’ was, of course—not at first. (It was only after months of reading and thinking and writing that A Home For Mr. Emerson began to take shape.)

But from the start, I was inspired by this man who believed that each of us can create the life we dream of living.

For Emerson, that was a life centered on friendship and home. 

In his study, brimming with books and journals, Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote many letters to friends far and near. Come to my home in Concord, he invited them. Come on the four o’clock train.

I love how Edwin Fotheringham’s illustration invites readers into Emerson’s home AND into a book about his life.

And this invitation sums up in a nutshell my sense of what a picture book biography is meant to do: to invite young readers into a new life, to meet someone they might like to know better.

If you think about it, all nonfiction for kids is an invitation. Here’s something interesting, a nonfiction book says. Here’s something you might like to know about. Come on in.

I’ve been lucky these past few years to work in concert with the other authors on INK, issuing invitations to kids—offering them through our books a “piece of a moon and all the possibilities of Saturday.”

And I’ve loved getting to know the readers of this blog, folks just as passionate about nonfiction as I am.

This is my last post on INK, brainchild of the amazing Linda Salzman. The past five years have been an honor and a pleasure. Thank you, all.

Making Multimedia Connections with Books

Recently I was invited to present at a conference of the Northwest Association of Independent Schools on connections between books and technology. Perhaps because I’m a writer married to a technology guy, I see the potential for a rich marriage between books and multimedia resources on a given topic.

For one thing, because of the Internet, students can get a behind-the-scenes view of the research and writing that went into a book.  Websites, Facebook pages, and blogs can (miraculously, I think) connect students directly with authors. Many authors have websites (try the author’s first and last name.com or do a google search by using the author’s name and the word “author”). Author websites also often contain links that can deepen students’ understanding of a book or topic. 

For example, after reading Muckrakers by Ann Bausum, they can stop by her website and click on the "photo research" link for an interactive tutorial on how to conduct photo research using the online collections of the Library of Congress.

After reading Bausum’s Unraveling Freedom, they can visit the page for that book and click on the "political cartoons" link to begin an interactive session about decoding political cartoons, using six cartoons from World War I.

Many authors also have Facebook pages which can give readers insights into the on-going life of writers, updates on developments related to their books, and play-by-play descriptions of their current work on new writing projects. (I’m just getting mine going at https://www.facebook.com/authorelizabethrusch). Some even write blogs or contribute to group blogs like this one. (Try googling the author’s name and the word “blog,” or check author websites, which will have links to their blogs.)

Many nonfiction authors write about current topics that are still unfolding after the book has been published. The internet can continue the story.  For instance, after reading Loree Griffin Burns’ The Hive Detective, students can watch a TED talk about the plight of the honeybee or learn about pollinator conservation at the Xerces Society’s website. Likewise,

after reading Steve Jobs: The Man Who Thought Different by Karen Blumenthal, students can check out what’s happening with the company now at http://www.apple.com/hotnews/ or read recent articles about the company at www.techspot.com.

After reading my book, The Mighty Mars Rovers: The incredible adventures of Spirit and Opportunity, students can explore what the rover Opportunity is up to now (10 years after landing!) at JPL’s website, which includes regular mission updates, press releases, photos and videos; and follow the newest rover Curiosity, too.

And after reading one of my volcano books—Volcano Rising; Will it Blow? or Eruption! -- students can learn more about current on-going eruptions at Earthweek; Volcano Discovery, which includes a map of recent eruptions and  webcams at active volcanoes; and Smithsonian’sGlobal Volcanism Program, which has both weekly updates of volcanic activity and an amazing searchable database of past and current eruptions.

Think this only relates to current events? Think again.  Fascinating additional reading and other resources such as audio, films and websites related to American history, 1492 and onward, can be found on the website of the Zinn Ed Project, which is searchable by theme, time period, document type and reading level. You can also search by book. For instance, the entry for Gretchen Woelfle’s Mumbet’s Declaration of Independence, (https://zinnedproject.org/materials/mumbets-declaration-of-independence/) links to actual court records from the lawsuit Mumbet brought against her owners to win her freedom.

Multimedia experiences can bring a book to life. After reading A Home for Mr. Emerson by Barbara Kerley, students can visit thehome online. They can view a slideshowfrom the New York Times about the caretaking of the home, which Emerson bought in 1835; the site includes interior shots of the home, including the rocking horse in the playroom and Emerson's hat, hanging on the wall. To dig even deeper into Emerson’s life, readers can go to an online exhibit by the Concord Free PublicLibrary with photos and essays about Emerson, which also features many primary source documents.

If you want to offer your students a multimedia experience, most likely you don’t have to do the research on the best resources yourself. Many nonfiction authors include a list of the best multimedia resources in the back matter of their books or on their websites. Check them out – and send your students to them, too. You’ll both be enriched by the experience.

Elizabeth Rusch

www.elizabethrusch.com

https://www.facebook.com/authorelizabethrusch

www.vivascriva.com

Everything I've Learned About Interesting Nonfiction, Kids, Writing, and Life from I.N.K.

My sons went to a Quaker school, and every time they left meeting for worship they sang, As we leave this friendly place, and that's the song that's going through my head right now. I spent about half an hour trying to find a recording for you, but I can't.* I need a (Quaker) librarian to help me. (See below re librarians.)

I.N.K. has been a great place to hang around these past few years. I've learned so much from all of the other writers, from the teachers and librarians who've commented, and from writing my own posts.

So I thought I'd share with you some--no, not everything, of course--of what I've learned and give you some places to visit in the absence of I.N.K. Though I hope Linda will keep the blog up so people can dip into the archives.

1.Nobody knows kids like teachers. Stating the obvious, but I'm amazed by how much teachers know about children, about human nature, about different kinds of learning,  about what works and what doesn't. One of my favorite blogs is There's A Book For That, written by a woman who must be one of the best teachers ever. Carrie Gelson teaches a class made up of 2nd, 3rd and 4th graders in Vancouver. She's a great fan of nonfiction, of books, and, clearly, of children. I kind of want to pretend I'm 9 and go sit in her class.

2.Nobody knows books and research like librarians. Soapbox time. Every time I visit a school I am bowled over by how much librarians know. Which book to put in which kids' hands. Better than any Amazon formula, "If you liked Those Rebels John and Tom, you will probably like A Home for Mr. Emerson and  Handel, Who Knew What He Liked."  Ditto independent booksellers!

And whenever I need research help, no amount of futzing around on the internet will be better than asking a librarian. One hour of futzing around on the internet is worth 270 seconds with a librarian. There's nobody like a librarian and there's nobody like Betsy Bird. Visit her blog Fuse8 whenever you can. You won't be sorry! And there are so many more. In fact, HERE is a compendium of the best librarian blogs!

3. Nobody knows writing like authors.  Except when we're stalled or stuck or terrified. Then we go read what other authors have to say. I'm sort of addicted to the Paris Review interviews. If you go here you'll see Geoff Dyer saying all kinds of interesting things about nonfiction and how one can bend it and still have it be nonfiction! I've talked about John McPhee's interview before on I.N.K. in a piece I wrote about letting content dictate form. I intend to be addicted to the DRAFT column in the New York Times as soon as I'm done with my W.I.P. Check it out. It's a wealth of information--writers writing about writing.

4. There's nothing like having friends who do what you do. There are so many great authors on I.N.K. Great people. Having this blog has been like having a nation-wide support group. Teachers have the faculty room. Librarians have the water cooler. Writers can get lonely. Thanks to all you I.N.K. folks for hanging around the virtual coffee machine with me. Someone please pass the cookies. And while you're at it, please add to my list of what you've learned, and where we should hang out next.

*Ok, I found a recording. It's a real school singing it, and it's rough, but it brought a tear to my eye.

Here you go: As We Leave This Friendly Place.

Love,
Deb

INK Authors Making News

NEW BOOKS

Welcome to the World: A Keepsake Baby Book  by Marfé Ferguson Delano (National Geographic)

The Truth about Poop and Pee, by Susan E. Goodman (Penguin), a new edition that brings together two of her best-selling books.

A Home for Mr. Emerson, by Barbara Kerley (Scholastic)

APPEARANCES

Deborah Heiligman will be speaking at the Virginia Festival of the Book March 21-23

Anna Lewis, author of Women of Steel and Stone: 22 Inspiring Architects, Engineers, and Landscape Designers, will be speaking at the Bellefonte, PA Art Museum on March 22, which has installed a large Anna Keichline exhibit. 

AWARDS

The Animal Book: A Collection of the Fastest, Fiercest, Toughest, Cleverest, Shyest--and Most Surprising--Animals on Earth, written and illustrated by Steve Jenkins (HMH)

            • The Horn Book 2013 Fanfare List of the Best Books for Young People

            • NPR 2013 Great Reads

            • Book Links Top 30 Titles from 2013

            • Junior Library Guild Top 10 Books for Youth 2013

            • ALA Notable Book 2014

Who Says Women Can’t Be Doctors by Tanya Lee Stone (Henry Holt)

            • NPR Great Reads

The Boy Who Loved Math: The Improbable Life of Paul Erdos, by Deborah Heiligman. (Roaring Brook)

            • Orbis Pictus Honor Book

            • Book Links Top 30 Titles from 2013

Eruption! Volcanoes and the Science of Saving Lives, by Elizabeth Rusch. (HMH)

            • Book Links Top 30 Titles from 2013

Courage Has No Color: The True Story of the Triple Nickles, America’s First Black Paratroopers, by Tanya Lee Stone. (Candlewick)

            • Book Links Top 30 Titles from 2013

The Nature Generation has announced the shortlist for its 2014 Green Earth Book Awards. The award honors authors whose books best convey the environmental stewardship message to youth.

Eat Like a Bear, by April Pulley Sayre, illustrated by Steve Jenkins (Henry Holt)

Here Come the Humpbacks, by April Pulley Sayre (Charlesbridge)

No Monkeys, No Chocolate, by Melissa Stewart and Allen Young (Charlesbridge)

A Place for Turtles, by Melissa Stewart (Peachtree Publishers)

My Trusty Bike

When we first moved to Portland, OR, we lived in a condo downtown…and my life was downtown-centric.  Now, we live in a little house across the river. I love our quiet neighborhood, but it's a bit removed from the action. Several times a week, it seems like I'm commuting somewhere, and my favorite way to do this is by bike.

I hate driving, for one thing.  The bus is reliable but takes a while.  And I’ve slowly outfitted myself with a variety of bike gear—waterproof this-and-that’s, good gloves and booties, and even most recently, a truly sweet headlamp that is so high tech you just plug the whole thing in to recharge.

And then there’s the commute itself.  Portland has this wonder called the Springwater Corridor and wow is it great.  It allows me to travel much of my commute on a dedicated bike path.  No cars, just bikes, joggers…and the occasional goose.

You see, the section of the corridor I travel runs alongside the Willamette River, skirting the edge of the Oaks Bottom Wildlife Refuge.

As I ride, I see kayakers or crew teams in the river, and, on the other side of the trail, Great Blue Herons standing quietly in the marsh.  Three times now I have even seen a bald eagle.  There are hawks.  And in the spring, there are baby geese—Canada Geese that start out as tiny yellow puffballs and quickly grow into gangly awkward goslings.

I commute by bike a lot, and my favorite ride is to and from my critique group meetings. The commute home often proves to be almost as productive as the meeting was.

My critique partners raise good points, ask good questions, leave me wondering how on earth I am going to fix the problems I didn’t even realize were there until I went to group.

But as I start pedaling, once I’m off the busy streets and into the quiet, tree-filled, goose part of my commute, I find that I’ve started to work out those problems, without even realizing it.  I’ve had to stop my bike more than once (sometimes more than once in the same ride) to write down what I’ve just figured out while I was pedaling.

I’ve come to look forward to those rides home. And I always pack my notebook and pen in easy reach.

Common Core Through The Eyes Of A Storyteller

Common Core Through the Eyes of a Storyteller

The first time I looked at the Common Core website, I remember feeling a little bit overwhelmed. Even looking at the all the information with a very tight focus—in my case, what the standards say about reading informational books—it felt like a lot to process.

It took me a little while to understand that there are ten big standards, the Anchor Standards for Reading, and that each of these standards then has grade-specific guidelines for implementation.

The Anchor Standards discuss aspects of writing from an educator’s viewpoint, with educator vocabulary—and I’m a writer, not a teacher. So understanding what each Standard was asking students to do took a little processing as well.

But I am coming to understand that many of the Standards address things I think about all the time as I am working on storytelling.

Take Standard 2, for instance. It asks students to identify the main theme of a text, and I think about the main theme of every book I write. The theme is the big picture idea, the ‘so what?’ of every story. Why the story matters. What we can learn from it. We can enjoy reading about all of Alice Roosevelt’s antics, but the takeaway is what matters: “eating up the world.” Having a zest for life. That’s the theme.

Standard 3 asks students to look at how people interact, something I thought about constantly as I tried to show the development of the relationship between Adams and Jefferson—how two total opposites could come together to work for a common purpose.

Standard 4 is all about word choice and figurative language—a writer’s dream standard, if you will. Finding just the right word to express an idea is my favorite part of the job, capturing, for example, Walt Whitman’s passion for taking notes everywhere he went in his little notebooks, and how these notebooks were “fertile ground for the seeds of his poems.”

Standard 5 looks at structure, and boy is that a big part of crafting a story. Every story needs a beginning, middle, and end, and especially in a picture book, the opening lines are crucial to set the story in motion and establish the promise to the reader that will be fulfilled by the story’s end.  And so when we learn that Susy Clemens is “’annoyed’” that everyone is wrong about her famous father, and that she is “determined to set the record straight,” we’re launched into the story of how she does this by creating her own biography of Mark Twain—excerpts of which were eventually published for all to read.

And finally, Standard 6, which asks students to think about how an author’s purpose shapes the text. This ties into everything I do when crafting a story. How do I present the facts of a person’s life in a way that illustrates my theme, shows character development, and gives a satisfying ending to the story just read? Which events, quotes, and details do I choose to include, when I’m limited by the fact that a picture book text must be short—and that every word counts.

When I think about the Standards and how they apply to nonfiction books, what I understand is that the Standards will change the way that students interact with nonfiction texts. Students won’t just be reading nonfiction books to gather information. They’ll be reading books and analyzing how that information is presented.

And for someone who cares deeply about storytelling, this is very good news indeed.

Not Ready for Her Ending

Barbara Kerley’s Sept 13 blog about strong opening paragraphs, Balloons, got me thinking about what makes a good closing. Typically writers and teachers reason that the last sentence needs to sum up, tie together, or provide closure to a narrative. But science, history, and other subjects such as human rights [a personal favorite] change, grow, and evolve without an end in sight, or a clear trajectory from the past. So the last paragraph is not necessarily end of story.

Years ago I wrote and photographed a book about the life and times of an eight-year-old dwarf. Her name is Jaime. This was the second book I authored and illustrated, and the first children’s book about dwarfism. I wanted it to be perfect. After spending months and months with Jaime, her family, and her friends, I had a large body of material to easily pare down to a thirty-two-page picture book. But I didn’t have an ending. Over and over I returned to Jaime’s home in New Jersey, trying to uncover that impeccable final phrase that would tie everything together. No luck.

Why couldn’t I get Jaime to say something like this: “Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigue, I have had my vision.” Well, Virginia Woolf had already ended To the Lighthouse with that stunner. But my Jaime was so smart, so wise; she could have come up with something like that. I kept pushing, taping, waiting for a Virginia Woolf moment.

            Finally in exasperation because I was driving him and this wonderful child crazy, my husband said, “She’s eight years old, for goodness sake! [He used stronger language.] She’s not ready for an ending.” Then he closed his eyes and pointed to a group of sentences on the storyboard mess of text and photos strewn across the floor. “There’s your ending.” Lo and behold, the last line was right there patiently waiting for its close up: "I’m like everybody else, just little.” 

In my view the reader does need some kind of closure, but it need not be detailed, complete. I like books that allow the reader a little breathing space, space to wonder. My favorites are the ones where I wistfully reread the last lines before closing the cover.

There are gazillions of great endings in literature. One that particularly moves me is from Oliver Sacks’s Musicophila:“But to those who are lost in dementia, the situation is different. Music is no luxury to them, but a necessity, and can have a power beyond anything else to restore them to themselves, and to others, at least for a while.” 

           

And you? When do you know your book, article or essay is complete? Please share your favorite endings – the ones you have written, and ones you wish you had written?

And Jaime? She’s become a beloved first grade teacher, who continues to think big, and is not nearly ready for her ending.

Little Red Caboose

July is the month we iNK-ers repost a favorite from the past year. This post (from last January) has me thinking about two of my favorite things: books and chai. Enjoy!

I’ve never been one of those writers who tuck their laptop into their bag and then head off to a coffee shop to work every day. I’m too attached to my ergonomically angled keyboard and the utter quiet of my office.

But every once in a while, a very rare once in a while, I need a change of scenery to get me into the right frame of mind. I need a place that is not my office, and I need to pick up a pen.

When I’m stuck and I need to be playful—when the tone of what I’m writing needs an element of play—sometimes it works best to leave ergonomics and quiet behind.

I have a couple places near me that I like to work, and this one is the most playful of all: a teahouse inside a little red caboose.

Technically, the entire teahouse is not in the caboose. There’s a whole addition built out from the back side, with lots of tables and chairs, a lovely outdoor courtyard, and about 50 kinds of tea. But to enter the teahouse, you board the little red caboose. Just the idea of it makes me happy. They also make an excellent masala chai with just the right amount of spice and the right amount of sweet.

I went to the caboose last week, when I was working on a new idea for the early concept books I do with National Geographic. The books introduce simple ideas supported by fabulous photographs (not mine, of course—the fabulous photographs that have made National Geographic famous.) I’ve written about a variety of topics: water, families, peace, a day in the life of school kids, and a new title out this spring encouraging kids to get out and explore.

My goal with these titles is to have a clearly defined concept expressed succinctly in an accessible tone. To express a big idea in a kid-friendly way, with language that doesn’t take itself too seriously.

In other words, to be playful.

That kind of writing is best not done at a quiet computer. That’s when it’s a good idea to head to a caboose.

Being an Introvert

A few months ago, I wrote about heading out into the world to write, and the little teashop I sometimes visit when I’m stuck or stalled—to shake things up and help me see my ideas from a new perspective.

But most of the time, I do my best work at my desk in my very quiet office, all alone, preferably with the dog snoring quietly at my feet. I don’t play music, even music without lyrics. I can’t think with external noise going on. The noise distracts me from what I am trying to hear.

I usually know the basic idea I’m poking/prodding/massaging into life. I pretty much know the what.

What I’m trying so hard to hear in my little quiet office is the how. How do I express this idea in writing most authentically mine?

In her wonderful TED Talk, Susan Cain affirms the importance of solitude, how introverts like me should embrace our need for quiet time. I learned long ago that I need quiet time and even a quiet life (a modest social calendar without too many distractions) to find my writing voice.

But Cain also talks about how introverts should not try to force themselves to be extroverts, and this applies to the other side of a writing life: going out into the world to talk about my books to other people. 

This has to do with authenticity, as well.

When I first started presenting, almost 20 years ago, I tried to be more ‘out there’ than I usually was—bigger, badder, louder—the kind of author who quickly has a room full of first graders shouting back responses in a happy chorus.

I LOVE authors who can do this, and kids love them, too.

But every time I tried this, it felt like a false note, a lukewarm imitation of someone else. What I needed instead, I realized, was to be the best version of myself I can be.

For me this means sharing my passions: the importance of following your curiosity, the importance of being open to new people and new experiences. It also means sharing my enthusiasm for being in awe—of the amazing things people have accomplished, of all the possibilities out there for all of us.

And I don’t have to do headstands while playing the ukulele to do this. I can be this passionate, enthusiastic, amazed and awestruck presenter, quietly talking to kids, teachers and librarians. I can be my little old self: Thoughtful. Engaged. A good egg. And an introvert.

Balance

At critique group this week, four of us sat around a table, crunching on nuts, sipping iced tea, and talking about balance. All four of us work at home, which can be great for things like having a flexible schedule. (Critique group meetings at 2 pm on Tuesdays? No problem.)

But working at home can have its drawbacks, as well—and that’s where the conversation wound around to after the critiquing was done.

Working at home can be lonely. If I didn’t have a dog, there might be days when I never left the house.

Working at home can be sedentary. If I didn’t get up for snacks, I might hardly move at all.

Most of all, working at home can be non-stop, if you let it. With no time card to punch, no daily commute defining the parameter of the ‘work day,’ you really could work all the time. Writer friends confess to me all the time that they feel guilty taking time away from their desk to meet a friend for lunch, take a walk in the park, go out with their husband for coffee.

But they shouldn’t, and if you work at home, you shouldn’t, either.

A story a few weeks ago on npr discussed several studies done on keeping your brain healthy and your memory strong—two things that come in handy when you’re a writer (or do anything else, for that matter.)

The studies looked at people over 80 and how they fared as they aged. But the conclusions apply to us all, especially those of us who work at home:

Physical exercise is key.

Social contact is essential.

And you need to leave your house and get out in the world, on a regular basis.

So, while I could work all the time, taking the long view of a productive career (not to mention a happy life) suggests that I shouldn’t—and I shouldn’t feel guilty about it, either.

I just joined a gym class full of neighbors I’d like to get to know.

I start today.

I Can Just Ask!

Today’s post will be short and sweet, partly because I’m juggling a handful of projects (a process that deserves a whole post in its own right) and partly because I’m a little hyped:

For the first time in my nearly 20 years of working on biographies, I am working on a project about a live person.

Waterhouse Hawkins, Walt Whitman, Alice Roosevelt, Mark Twain and Susy Clemens, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson were all lively, and I tried to bring them to life on the page, but technically, they are no longer with us.

For the first time, I am working on a book about someone, happily, who is—who very much is.

Writing about someone long gone has its advantages. You can utilize the scholarship of others to help inform your understanding of primary sources. And it’s way easier to determine the lasting significance of someone’s accomplishments when you can see if it actually lasted.

But there is something amazing about thinking, “I wonder how she felt about x?” and then realizing, “Oh! I can just ask!”

I’m feeling a little giddy, like a kid in a pastry shop filling the box with more and more treats. Every day I seem to be emailing a dozen or so questions (though I was kind enough to give her the whole weekend off—both days) and then, in a little bit, getting answers.

Will everything make it into the book? Probably not. But the box is brimming over with treats, and I get to choose the ones I like best.

And then, even better, to ask for more. 

THE WORLD IS WAITING FOR YOU: A CCSS Approach

In the past few years, almost every state in the nation has adopted the Common Core State Standards (CCSS). The English Language Arts Standards are not limited to upper grades, either. Even the youngest kids—the K through 2 set—will be using the CCSS to explore nonfiction literature in their classrooms, libraries, and homes.

With that in mind, I thought I’d use this post to introduce two things: a new book and a new Teacher’s Guide just posted on my website, with ideas for how to apply the CCSS to all of my books.

Out this month is my newest book, The World Is Waiting For You. And while the main text only has 115 words, it can still be explored using the CCSS.

The ideas below are built around the Anchor Standards for Reading. (For grade-specific guidelines, click on “Reading: Informational Texts” in the sidebar on that page.)

CCSS.ELA-Literacy.CCRA.R.2  Determine central ideas or themes of a text and analyze their development; summarize the key supporting details and ideas.

CCSS.ELA-Literacy.CCRA.R.6  Assess how point of view or purpose shapes the content and style of a text.

The central ideas of The World Is Waiting For You are the importance of getting outside to explore and the benefit of following your curiosity.

My purpose is to encourage kids to get outside, explore, and see where their curiosity takes them—and to suggest that if you follow your curiosity as you grow, it will enrich your entire life.

The book begins with an invitation to explore:

“Right outside your window there’s a world to explore. Ready? Follow that path around the next bend. Who knows where it might lead?”

This question works on both a literal and figurative level. The path itself leads to new places to explore and things to discover; and the act of following your curiosity leads to personal growth and a better understanding and appreciation of the world.

The text and photos then depict exploration on a child-scale, such as hopping into a pond or standing under a waterfall, followed by the same type of exploration on a future adult-scale: scuba diving with dolphins. Similarly, digging in a mud puddle might one day lead to digging for fossils, and star-gazing might one day lead to exploring space as an astronaut.

Throughout the book, kids see the value of exploring now and can imagine where the love of exploration might take them in the future. And the final spread in the book echoes the opening lines and urges them to get going:

 “The whole wide world is waiting for you… Ready. Set. Go.”

  

CCSS.ELA-Literacy.CCRA.R.5 Analyze the structure of texts, including how specific sentences, paragraphs, and larger portions of the text (e.g., a section, chapter, scene, or stanza) relate to each other and the whole.

In the guidelines for grades K-2, this anchor standard asks students to identify text features and analyze how they provide key facts or information.

The extensive back matter of The World Is Waiting For You provides a wealth of information to enhance the main text.

The explorers depicted in photos in the main text get a fuller introduction in “The Faces of Exploration” section of the back matter. We learn their names, where each photo was taken, and specific facts about their work as explorers. This section also includes quotes from several of the explorers talking about the impact exploration has made on their lives.

In a “Note From National Geographic,” John M. Fahey, Jr., CEO and Chairman of the Board of the National Geographic Society, discusses the Society’s mission and commitment to exploration. He ends the note with words to encourage kids to explore on their own.

Thumbnails of the photographs identify where each was taken and photo credits list the names of individual photographers.

Finally, the back flap of the book jacket shares information about other books I’ve written and my personal experience with exploration.

Check out my Teacher's Guide for ideas on how to apply the CCSS to my other titles, including the biographies Those Rebels, John and Tom; The Extraordinary Mark Twain (According to Susy); What To Do About Alice?; Walt Whitman: Words for America; and The Dinosaurs of Waterhouse Hawkins.

Tweet

As I write this on Tuesday afternoon, it’s just a few hours before President Obama’s State of the Union Address—yet the internet is already buzzing with discussion.

I’m not a tweeter myself, but on occasion I mosey over to twitter and take a peek at what others are tweeting about. And #SOTU is hopping.

Lots of folks are chiming in about how excited they are to hear the speech. Lots of other folks are passing snarky judgment on what Obama may say. Many organizations are expressing their hope that he tackles an issue dear to their hearts. (I have my fingers crossed—as do the folks at the Union of Concerned Scientists—that “bold action” on climate change is on the agenda.) 

The mood is anticipatory. My favorite tweet so far comes from Dr. Jill Biden: “Joe is practicing keeping a straight face for the #SOTU. He is allowed to roll his eyes at John Boehner, though.”

It will be interesting to look back at the end of my career (hopefully several decades in the future) and see how today’s kids—who have grown up in the age of social media—view knowledge and scholarship. (There are, of course, already lively discussions about the effect of the digital revolution on the writing of history. Take a look at this site to see some of the issues raised.)

Social media—especially blogs and tweets—are changing the way we view current events.  We all have opinions, and social media is giving us an easy way to express them.

I hope this leads to a more engaged citizenry. (I’m not sure it will. Perhaps if you’ve tweeted your displeasure about a situation in the news, you’ll then feel like you’ve done your bit and won’t have to actually DO anything to help fix it.)

Will history feel more relevant to tomorrow’s adults, if they were more actively engaged in current events as kids? I don’t know.

I do know that tweets and blogs will give tomorrow’s historians a heck of a lot more information to work with—more eyewitness accounts; more access to how everyday people were feeling ‘back then.’

For now, it’s interesting to be swept up along for the ride. Whetting my anticipation (along with the opportunity to see if Joe Biden behaves) is this terrific video, created by the White House, about how the 2012 State of the Union Address was created. While it discusses last year’s speech, it doesn’t really matter as it’s a video about process and craft—the speechwriters discussing how they work with President Obama to write and revise an important speech.

It’s perfect to share with students—and you’ll find it, of course, on YouTube.