Peg Kehret Blog

Tonight I’ll be at Mockingbird Books in Seattle, participating in the Inside Story, an event sponsored by the Western WA chapter of the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators. Twenty-four authors will speak for three minutes each (strictly timed!) about their most recent book to an audience of teachers, librarians, book sellers and others with a special interest in children’s literature. We tell how we came to write the book, unusual research, or any interesting background. I’ll talk about  Runaway Twin.

It is not easy to be that succinct. I have no trouble giving an hour-long speech, or yakking on the phone for thirty minutes, but giving a three minute talk is tough.

I’m giving away copies of Spy Cat this week on my Facebook fan page. This is a random drawing, not a contest, so anyone who’s signed up as a fan has a chance to win. I’m drawing one name each day for six days. The first day’s winner was from Bellingham, Washington. Today’s winner is from Arlington, Texas. There are four more days to go.

I love to do freebies! I think I inherited this from my mother who frequently gave people unexpected presents, for no special reason. If you’ve read Small Steps, you know that both of my parents were generous people.

 Update on Molly, the cat: she is eating well again, and has gained some weight. She clearly feels better.

My long, paved driveway has a lot of moss on it this year. I decided to get rid of the moss in a way that’s as environmentally safe as possible.

Anne used the leaf blower to clean the driveway, a huge job since pine needles and leaves were stuck because they’d been rained on. She was sore the next day, and I’m grateful for her help. Yes, a broom is better for the environment than a leaf blower, but it would have been an impossible task. Sweeping my driveway is like painting the Golden Gate bridge; by the time you finish, you need to start over.

Once Eric did a science experiment on my driveway’s moss, where we diluted bleach in varying amounts, vinegar in varying amounts, and tried a chemical moss killer. The vinegar did the job, so yesterday I bought eight large jugs of vinegar. This morning I used a watering can with a “shower” head to apply the vinegar to the moss. I ran out of vinegar before I was half done, but I’ll wait to buy more until I need to drive to town for another reason. After I’d loaded my shopping cart yesterday, a woman said to me, “You must be going to make A LOT of pickles!”

While I was sprinkling vinegar on the moss, Lucy ran around biting pine cones and looking for squirrels. Once she ran across an area where I had just applied the vinegar. If I’d been using a chemical spray, I would have had to wash her paws. No, if I’d been using a chemical spray I wouldn’t have let Lucy be out with me. With vinegar, I don’t worry about Lucy or the small forest critters.

Right now my driveway smells a bit like pickles, but the formerly green moss is turning brown, and I’m glad I tried a natural solution to my problem. Happy Earth Day!

A week ago in this blog, I offered retirement congratulations to Emilie Jacobson, who was my agent for many years. Today I got the sad news that Emmy died last night. I met her only once - five years ago when I was in New York to attend the Mystery Writers of America Edgar Awards banquet. My daughter, Anne, was with me. We had lunch with Emmy, and a tour of the Curtis Brown offices. Emmy also attended the banquet with me, with fingers crossed because Abduction was an Edgar nominee. I didn’t win, but it was a wonderful experience, in no small part because I finally got to spend time with this extraordinary woman who played such an important part in my career.

Emmy had been a literary agent for over sixty years! No wonder she was so good at it. When she agreed to take me as a client, I felt incredibly lucky - and that feeling remained throughout our long association. Emmy was an inspiration to her colleagues, and to her clients. She will be dearly missed.

Most of the letters that I get from kids contain questions. I’ve had some questions (Do you have kids? What is your dog’s name? Did you ever find out what happened to Tommy?) hundreds of times. One question has changed in the last year or so, and I don’t know why. They used to ask, “Where did you get your idea for (title of book)?” Now they ask, “Where did you get the inspiration for (title of book)?”  Those are not the same question. I got the idea for Escaping the Giant Wave when I was walking on a beach in Orgon and saw a Tsunami Warning sign. But that was hardly an inspiration.

 Some questions don’t have anything to do with me or my books. One kid asked if I like bunnies. Another asked, “How old were you when Star Wars came out?” Then there’s the girl who wants to know if she should tell Kyle that she likes him and ask if he likes her, too, or if she should wait a year, until they’re both in seventh grade. I’m trying to think of an inspired answer.

Except for a lovely Easter brunch with Anne, Kevin, and Eric, and a routine checkup at the eye doctor, I’ve done little but write for two weeks. I always have difficulty starting a new book but once I get into it I become completely absorbed and don’t want to do anything else. Right now I’m at the point where I work all day and then lie in bed thinking about what else I want to say and how to say it. In the mornings, I make coffee, let Lucy out, and go straight to my office in my bathrobe, often putting in a couple of hours before I realize I’m hungry and have not yet had breakfast.

This week, my obsession coincided with the opening of baseball season, which presented a dilemma. I ended up watching most of the first two Mariners games, but with a notebook in hand so that I could scrawl thoughts during the muted commercials - and often during the Athletics’ turns at bat. When the games ended, I logged these new additions into the book, staying up too late in the process.

You may have noticed that I didn’t mention what it is that I’m working so hard on. Sorry. I can never talk about a book while I’m writing it. It always feels fragile at this point, as if it will fall apart if I display the idea in public too soon.

My agent of many years, Emilie Jacobson, has retired. I thank her for the many years of representation, the thirty-five books she sold for me, and her staunch advocacy of my work. She has a great sense of humor, and I will miss the wry comments in her correspondence. Shelter Dogs is dedicated to her.

Yesterday I read Split Image by Robert B. Parker. I enjoyed the book but I also felt sad as I read because there will be no more novels from this talented writer. Robert B. Parker died recently. I have read all the Spencer books and the Jesse Stone books. I eagerly awaited each new Sunny Randall story. I was delighted when Parker began putting characters from one series into a different series; I felt as if I’d unexpectedly run into an old friend.

Reading a book by Parker is the equivalent of taking a college course in how to write great dialogue. I have long admired his craft, as well as his art. I also like that most (all?) of his books were dedicated to his wife, Joan. Having had a long and loving marriage myself, I appreciate it when I see a similar union.  As if all this weren’t enough to make me a fan, Robert Parker clearly loved dogs. Only a dog lover could write dog scenes the way he did. I never met the man, but I will surely miss his work.