Peg Kehret Blog

A retired gentleman called me recently. He had been given my number by mutual friends because he had written a book for children and needed advice on how to market it. During our conversation, I suggested that he join the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. I started to give him the SCBWI web site but he said, “Oh, I don’t have a computer, and I don’t intend to get one.” My reaction was regret because he will have a tough time making it as a writer if he is unwilling to use the tools of our profession.

He is not alone. I was stunned to read that only twenty percent of senior citizens know how to use the Internet. I can not imagine being without such a useful resource. I do much research that way, and I do nearly all of my business correspondence via e-mail. All of my volunteer activities with Pasado’s Safe Haven are coordinated by e-mail and I enjoy e-mail correspondence with family and friends. Even when icy roads keep me homebound, I’m connected to others with the click of a mouse.

I order books and DVDs from my library on-line and get notified by e-mail when the items are ready for me to pick them up. Some of my best gifts for my family were bought on line and even when I plan to make a purchase in person, I often comparison shop at home first.

The twenty percent study and the unpublished author made me wonder why some people cling to the old ways even when new ways would make their lives better. Why are some folks willing to learn fresh skills and stay open to new ideas when others are not? Closed minds lead to closed doors - doors that could have led to knowledge and entertainment.

When I was writing The Stranger Next Door, I wondered if it is possible to do CPR on a cat. In my pre-computer days, this question would have meant calling my veterinarian’s office and then waiting for an after-hours return call. It might have been a couple of days before I had the information that I needed in order to write the scene. Now I simply Googled “cat CPR” and in seconds I had explicit instructions, direct from a veterinary college. I finished writing the scene on the spot.

A few weeks ago I had a request from Kids Care Club for an interview about Shelter Dogs: Amazing Stories of Adopted Strays. Years ago, an interview meant arranging a time and place to meet with a reporter. Including travel time, the process usually took up at least half a day. The Kids Care interview was done by e-mail. They sent the questions one afternoon and I answered them early the next morning while I sipped my wake-up coffee. You can read the interview at www.familycares.org.

I am not a computer whiz. I get excited when I figure out how to change the clock on my monitor to adjust for Daylight Savings Time.  Even so, I say hooray for technology. It certainly makes the writing business easier.

I’ve had my cane, Alice, for more than ten years. She is sturdy and beautiful, with cat faces all over her. I named her Alice because I expected her to lead me into Wonderland, which she has done.

Alice has also had some adventures of her own. Late one rainy afternoon, I stopped at a grocery store on my way home from a book event. I use Alice while I walk into a store, then she rides in the cart while I do my shopping. On that particular day, I happened to park next to the spot where carts get returned. By the time I came out of the store, it was dark. I unloaded my groceries, and shoved the cart into the cart stall. Because my car was right there, I didn’t need Alice in order to walk across the parking lot - and I left her in the shopping cart!

As soon as I got home, I realized what I had done. My heart sank at the thought of possibly losing Alice. I called the store and explained my predicament. As soon as I described Alice, the clerk said, “Oh, yes. We have it. It’s behind the customer service counter.” (I wanted to correct the clerk and point out that Alice is a “her” and a “she,” not an “it” but I decided not to press my luck.)

I was too tired to drive back to town that night but first thing the next morning, I went to retrieve Alice. She was leaning against the wall in a corner, with a handsome dark blue cane that had apparently also been left behind. I was glad Alice had found a friend so that she wasn’t afraid to stay alone overnight in the store.

The first time I flew with Alice, I put her in the overhead bin. When the bin was opened at the end of the flight, Alice jumped out and tried to whack a passenger on the head. I grabbed her in the nick of time.

The next time we flew, I placed Alice on the floor under the seat in front of me. When the plane took off, gravity pulled her backward and she slid under the seats behind me. Nobody noticed. When I realized she was gone, I walked down the aisle, looking on the floor. I finally found her three rows back. The young man whose seat she was under didn’t know she was there, but he laughed when I told him Alice had run away, and he fished her out for me.

Now when I fly, Alice rides on the floor but I squeeze her tightly with both feet during takeoff and landing, to make sure she stays where she belongs.

Occasionally I give Alice a bath, rubbing her with a soapy cloth, then rinsing and drying her. She gets “new shoes” now and then, too, because the rubber tip on the cane bottom wears out.

Because of Alice, I feel more secure when I walk. I’m far less likely to fall when she is by my side. We’ve had many fine adventures together, and I anticipate many more.

One day last week when I stopped to pick up my mail, the postmistress came to greet me in great distress. It seems the people who had the post office box directly above mine had quit collecting their mail months ago. She had finally closed their account and cleaned out their box. When she did, she found a large envelope from Penguin, one of my publishers, addressed to me. It was postmarked April, 2007, and had been put in the wrong box by mistake. I opened the envelope and found fifteen letters from readers, all sent to me nearly a year ago. The postmistress felt terrible. “Those poor kids!” she moaned. “They waited and waited to hear back from you and it didn’t happen.” I told her it could have been worse - it could have been a royalty check.

I do try to answer all my mail but a few times in the past I’ve received a packet of letters from a publisher and the letters were postmarked six or seven months earlier. Who knows where they had been in the meantime. I have found that when I answer such mail, a high percentage of them are returned to me marked “No longer at this address.” So I will not be responding to these year-old notes, and I apologize, as does the Wilkeson postmistress. It’s all I can do to keep up with current mail without spending time on letters that have been long forgotten. The one exception is a girl who included a self-addressed, stamped envelope. She deserves a reply.

Several days ago, I opened a long string of emails and skimmed down them to see if any needed an immediate response. I had been in bed for two days with a fever and bronchial problems so I was behind on email, and everything else.  Yesterday when I logged on I cleaned up some of my files, permanently deleting many items. Later in the day I remembered that I’d had a request from a teacher to do a teleconference with her students. I can not find that request and have no idea who it was from. I’m certain I deleted it accidentally the night I was reading email in my fever-fog. I hope whoever it was reads this blog and tries again.

Over the years I’ve had many letters returned as undeliverable, because I could not read the student’s handwriting and I guessed wrong. I have no explanation for the emails that bounce when I “return to sender” on the very day they arrived.

I try to answer emails within a day after I receive them unless there’s some unusual circumstance, such as my being out of town. Regular mail takes longer. I try to empty that box once a week but I don’t always manage it. 

I like getting mail from readers, whether it’s on paper or electronic and, although it takes up more and more of my time, I’m happy to answer those letters. Phone calls are another matter. Naturally, I like phone calls from family and personal friends. I also like phone calls from my editor, my agent, and anyone letting me know I’ve won an award. But phone calls from readers make me cranky. Just this week, as I lay coughing in bed one evening, the phone rang. It was two giddy young girls, telling me that I’m their favorite author. This is happening more and more. I’ll probably have to get an unlisted phone number. 

A line at the end of “Driving Miss Daisy” says, “We just does our best, Miss Daisy. That’s all we can do.” That’s my philosophy with mail. I do my best.

Monday was Read Across America day, in honor of Theodor Seuss Geisel’s birthday. I spent the day at Fruitland Elementary School in Puyallup WA. It was quite a celebration.

 My part in the festivities was small: two students from each third - sixth grade class had been chosen to interview me. Then they returned to their classrooms to share what I had told them. I also spent two hours in the school library, autographing books and chatting with students, faculty, and parents. I love seeing the faces of children who are thrilled to own an autographed book.

There were several high points during my visit. First was the teacher from a different school who used his lunch hour to bring three fans to meet me and get their books signed. I’m always grateful when teachers make an extra effort to promote reading. Next was an eighth grade girl whose mom had seen my name on the school’s readerboard. This girl is now in Jr. High but she came after her own classes got out, to meet me and have her books signed.

At one point in the day, a youngster asked one of the volunteers who was helping in the library what happens to all the money from the book sales. She explained that some goes to the book store that provided the books, and then she started to say that schools pay authors a fee to come to visit, so some of the money would go to me. I’m glad I was eavesdropping and could say, “Not this time. Today is community service.” The volunteer was surprised and I think we both enjoyed the day more, knowing that I was a volunteer, too.

The afternoon’s main event was an assembly called Northwest Bookshelf that’s put on by Seattle’s Fifth Avenue Theatre. Each year the group selects four or five picture books by Northwest authors and creates short musical plays from them. They presented their program twice that day, and I was able to see the second performance.

It is wonderful to see an entire student body excited about reading. When our legislators consider cutting school librarians from the staff, I hope they know how much of this excitement we would lose. I was there because the librarian, Sue Luckman, had invited me every year for many years. The books were available because Sue made the arrangements. The teachers got read-aloud suggestions from her, and the kids who wanted to know what else I’d written got that information from her, too. Our school librarians are valuable resources!

I feel fortunate that I was able to spend a day celebrating reading with the great kids at Fruitland Elementary.