One of the first reviews for my new novel, Willowood, which will be debuting in stores March 9, 2010, is from the Library School Journal and very, very positive!!

Read for yourself:

GALANTE, Cecilia. Willowood. 272p. S & S/Aladdin. Mar. 2010. Tr $16.99. ISBN 978-1-4169-8022-3. LC number unavailable.

Gr 4-6–Eleven-year-old Lily is not happy when her single mother decides to move them from a small town to a city. Her mother’s long hours at her new job and a class bully don’t help. But Lily has a gecko that she loves, and her neighbor and sitter, Mrs. Hiller, introduces her to the owner of a pet store, Bernard, and his adult son, Nate, who has Down syndrome. The characters, including Lily’s new friend, Gina, the class nerd, are fully realized individuals. Nate is especially well drawn, and he becomes a true friend to Lily. As the story develops, she begins to understand that life is not always fair. With its finely tuned plot and poetic language, this novel compares well with Kate DiCamillo’s Because of Winn-Dixie (Candlewick, 2000) in character development and plot. Children will enjoy the story of Lily’s first few months in the big city.–Wendy Smith-D’Arezzo, Loyola College, Baltimore, MD

I’m really, really thrilled with this, most notably because I am somehow in the same paragraph with the goddess Kate DiCamillo, who I have admired, adored, (and yes, envied) from afar. It’s sort of surreal, to be compared to someone that good. It makes me really proud and really, really grateful.

Thank you, School Library Journal!!!

Onward!

CG

So I was reading an interview last night with the speedskater Apolo Ohno who said that when he failed to make the Olympic team in 1998, he retreated to a cabin off the coast of Washington State. He was, he said, “at my lowest point, physically and mentally.” And then this happened: “One day, I went out for a run. It was rainy and cold. Right in the middle of it, I stopped and asked myself how much I wanted to be a speed skater. If I was going to fulfill my dream, I knew that I needed to finish the run I was on right then, no matter how many blisters I had or how bad I felt. That was the turning point for me.”

Sometimes I think the small things - like choosing simply to finish a run when everything inside of you says quit - become the big ones. They set the groundwork for future disappointments, build up a resevoir of insurance. YOu can look back, say to yourself, “You know, I kept going that day when I really wanted to stop. Maybe I can do it again.”

I’ve decided to do that now with this book. I feel so much like quitting. Like I’m in the middle of this spinning vortex that is just sucking me down. It’s hard, this one. I have to write like an adult, for adults. Not for kids. I worry that I sound stupid, not “adult” enough. I fret over the use of certain words, every scene, each movement of my characters.

But I also know what it’s like to get to the end of something - finally - when you’ve been thrashing and floundering throughout the process. There’s nothing else like it in the world. Nothing.

And so I’m going to finish this run, even though the blisters are stacking up, and I’m wet and cold and reallyreally tired. I’m going to push through  - until I see my own finish line waiting there for me at the end. It’s a turning point for me, choosing to keep on. A medal in itself.

Onward, always.

CG

Pushing on, pushing on, despite terrible doubts, plagues of misgiving….

 Onward, always.

Is it just me, or do some of you guys out there have a hard time getting started? And by getting started, I mean the part where you roll up your sleeves and actually dive into the work.

I have a hell of time doing this. For some reason, I like to mess around a little - okay, sometimes a lot - before actually writing. Take this morning for example. I turned on the computer, checked my email (only four of which needed responding to), checked my spam mail (because you never know), and then logged on to the yahoo website to check the weather. (We do have a potential snowstorm coming off the coast tomorrow.) Then I noticed a blurb about Michelle Obama talking about her daughters weight, so I clicked on that and watched the entire piece from the Today show. (It was over 10 minutes and frankly, not that interesting, but I do love that woman.) Now I am writing on my blog.

I do this sort of thing - more or less - every morning, with one eye on the clock. Nine is when I like to actually start the work, especially since I only have five hours after that before my daughter’s bus comes home from school. Sometimes I manage to do it. Other mornings I don’t. And I always feel so guilty about it - this seemingly aimless drifting through cyberspace - this “putzing around” as the people here in the valley like to call it.

Last night, though, I was reading something about the magnificent J.D. Salinger (who recently just died.) He said that it took him a good amount of time every morning to get started on his books, because it took him “at least an hour  just to take all his disguises off.” I thought about that for a long, long time after reading it. And aside from feeling comforted by the fact that one of my all-time favorite authors in the entire world may have done a little putzing of his own every morning, I couldn’t help but wonder if this stalling that I do did in fact have something to do with removing these so-called disguises.

Maybe my mother disguise had to be put aside this morning as I watched Mrs. Obama talk about her own girls, my sister disguise next as I responded to an email from my younger sibling, and so on. Maybe all of these things, all of these faces that we wear, have to be removed, forgotten about for awhile as we begin the work, until the only thing left is the heart. The voice. The eyes and ears, which we can use then to write as cleanly - and putz-free - as possible.

What do you think?

Onward, always.

CG