On the Road Again

Well, I suppose not entirely.  But it is a lovely metaphorical road with straight brickwork that arches in the center to allow the water to drain when the roads begin to flood a bit.

Really, it is just the road to grad school.

I have lately been eyeing a program at Simmons College in Boston, Massachusetts that would allow me to get not one, but TWO degrees in two or three years.  In one fell swoop, I will earn an MS in Library Science for Services to Children and an MA in Children's Literature (I will get to take a class on Folk tales!)  I had initially thought it would be my best investment of money to find a Phd program that struck my fancy and dig in for the long hall, but upon investigating the programs in Rhetoric and Composition, I found myself disinterested in the courses they had to offer.  With descriptions detailing the studies of the like of Bahktin and Leyotard, I quickly realized I can confused my interest in teaching others how to communicate clearly with the study of linguistic communication.  Do not get me wrong, I find linguistics very interesting.  It is the theorists who swarm to linguistics and develop mildly dizzying and entirely infuriating tomes about the exchange of symbols and signs.  These things are all well and good to study; someone must do it so we can better communicate about our skills to communicate abstract and simple thought.  I must declare, though, I will not be the one to do it.
Instead, I have come to the decision that I will cast my lot with libraries.  They are not public schools, that demand teacher licensure and somewhat standardized curriculum; they are public entities that are molded by the combination of enthusiastic staff and hungry patrons.  This is the mix I want to toss myself into.  I have begun volunteering at the public library here in Grand Rapids and have absolutely loved it.  Additionally, I snuck back to Chicago last weekend to continue to enjoy the city I may still love most in the world while the Harold Washington Library hosted Benjamin Saenz and John Green as they spoke about the relationship of a classic Chicago novel to the current genre of young adult fiction.

As a librarian, I would get to plan and throw these events.  How sweet is that?  Right now I am limited (ha!  Limited!) to helping plan an online book group for teens, and I wish I could spend my whole day working on research for it.  Instead, I work for my paycheck so that I can pay my bills and come home hungrier to send out my application.

Which brings me back to the road I have embarked on.  I have begun to put this application out of my hands.  Gary holds one recommendation form, the other will shortly be handed off to Dean.  Then it is up to me to track down my transcripts, far as they have been scattered across the globe.  It seems a tad silly for me to pay $15 to procure a transcript from and institution in England from whom (whom? hmm, I'll stick with it) I only took two courses.  But they have requested it, so I must comply.

Gary's affirmation of my statement of purpose has given me the necessary boost in motivation.  Hopefully I shall have applied by early November.  Huzzah!

I shall now make myself some buttered noodles and return to Scout and Jem.

Dear Sanna,

I told you I would send you an email, but clearly I haven't done that yet.  Instead, I am going to use this moment to write you a letter publicly, since I apparently carry you around in my pocket anyhow.

Part of the reason I haven't written you yet is due to the fact that since I spoke to you (On Skype!  It was Awesome!), I have done these things:
1) Driven back to my parents' house
2) Eaten chili
3) Pulled dresses out of my closet for a schmancy dinner tomorrow
4) Fallen asleep with a cat on my chest
5) Awoken at the ungracious hour of 5AM
6) Blearily eaten food, gathered coffee, hopped in the car
7) Drove three and half hours to work
8) Worked
8.5) Dropped off dress at cleaners
9) Took the cheese my mama gave me back to my house (forgetting to put it in the fridge) and departed for soup at Teresa's apartment
10) Went to the library to volunteer
11) Stopped back at Teresa's to collect my laptop
12) Drove home; fell asleep
13) Woke up at the unkind hour of 7 AM
14) Blearily eaten food, wished for coffee, hopped in the car
15) Worked
16) Discovered the dress I had taken to the cleaners is being held hostage!  (Will I have to go naked!?)
17) Ate noodles, made muff-cakes, tried to work on grad school apps
18) Began this entry

As you can see, it has been a touch busy.  And all I can think about is not how exciting it was to meet John Green, or even many of the specifics of that experience, but instead the oddity of the whole situation of celebrity.  I mentioned some of this to you yesterday over the wonky internet connection, and slightly to my mother before I went downtown, but events like this are very odd.  For the most part, the people who plan events count on the popularity of one or more of the speakers to draw a sufficient crowd.  Or the enthusiasm of the target audience.  In this case, we will assume that the majority of the people present had been drawn by the name JOHN GREEN not the quality writing of SAUL BELLOW.
That being said, the audience comes already knowing quite a bit about the speaker.  John makes himself fairly present on the internet.  There is plenty he doesn't share about his life (naturally, it's his.), but also quite a lot that he does share.  Fans of his videos and books take in all this content and learn more about him while he resides on the other side of the computer screen appreciating the growth in viewership/readership, only able to take in so much of the returning information.  This results in a decidedly uneven situation.  Those people who go to events such as the One Book, One Chicago event on Monday come with the sense that they know this person who is now signing their book.  They know this remarkable person who has the influence to inspire people to drive three hours across three states (which as it turns out, he also did that afternoon.  He was in Grand Haven!) but that remarkable person in all likelihood has no idea who they are.
Now, I don't want to blow this out of proportion.  John Green is very popular, but not so much that his name is universally known.  Very few people have that scope of influence.  But he is still popular enough to be unable to personally respond to all the entreaties for recognition he gets from those who appreciate his work.  Compared to Obama, Margaret Thatcher, Saddam Hussein, Bin Laden, Hitler, Mother Teresa, the Dalai Llama, or other well known figures, John Green is unremarkable.  But compared with me?  Many of the other people there?  We become the unremarkable ones.  And that is humbling.  I could not predict what impact I will have on the world, or individual people of the world, by the time I am thirty-something, but I do know that I likely won't fully grasp the extent to which I have effected people's lives because it is very difficult to have completely equal footing with the people in our lives.
No matter how much we tell our friends we love them, it is hard to express the actual extent to which they have touched our lives.  If it is difficult to do this with the people we love, how much harder must it be to tell someone to whom we are a stranger how they have impacted our choices in life?

I didn't know this was the direction I was going when I started this post, but I want to take this opportunity to tell you in this (not very) public forum that I honestly do not know where I would be if I didn't have you as a friend.  I greatly miss living with you (I feel very guilty about watching Burn Notice while eating ice cream now... no one to join me!).  I love you, my dear friend, and as much as I am not very good at being a public person, I am glad to have you in my life more than it makes me nervous to share that online.

I will write you a proper letter again soon, hopefully.  Until then, I will entertain myself by looking at ticket prices to Sweden.  Also, this seal will just have to suffice.

Love love,
Melissa

Far More Than OK, This One Might Just Be A Winner

 OK For Now

Gary Schmidt’s most recent novel, Ok For Now, pushes right up to the limits of what might commonly seem decent for a middle grade audience.  But, with the gentleness of endearing characters and realistic troubles, Doug Swieteck takes us through his first year living in The Dump, surviving through the friendship of Lil Spicer and the pleasures of a really cold Coke.  Though his brother and father pave the way for his own mistakes, Doug befriends the old librarian whose penchant for art sets Doug on a sweet and sometimes conniving crusade to restore the Audubon collection that once resided in whole in Marysville, New York.  Doug’s no stranger to trouble, though, and finds himself the butt of plenty of ill will from teachers, neighbors, and strangers alike.  Despite losing most of his fights, Doug learns that teachers do care, friendships are worth fighting for, and making a Broadway debut as girl is not the worst thing that has happened to him.  Heart wrenching and hilarious, Schmidt has once again delivered a story worthy of the National Book Award nomination it has received.  

Don't forget to read The Wednesday Wars! Though Holling Hoodhood stars, Doug first makes a splash in Schmidts equally delightful previous book.

Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes

13 Little Blue Envelopes

This gallivanting escapade through Europe is not the free and roaming trip we all dream of having.  Virginia, a reserved high school student in New Jersey, has recently received a package from her favorite, wild aunt who has recently passed away.  While Ginny follows a meandering, oftentimes unclear tour through Europe visiting artist friends of her aunt’s, the reader is taken along for a journey to discover why her aunt Peg has left this strange legacy for her.  Peg reveals her plan over the course of thirteen letters, each to be opened after a certain task has been accomplished or new destination reached.  Though she is farther from home than she has ever been, Ginny discovers new ways to surround herself with unexpected friends, even in the midst of shocking loneliness.  

The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks

The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks

A finalist for both the National Book Award and the Michael J. Prinz Award, this Disreputable History is somewhat of a misnomer.  Frankie, always the good girl, finds her heart hijacked by a boy who’s loyalty belongs first to a secret society gone soft.  After stumbling across one of their meetings, Frankie begins to put together the clues dropped by her father, a legacy from the same boarding school she attends, and the club’s short anthem.  After scouring the campus and bumping into the Loyal Order of the Basset Hound’s figurehead leader, Alpha, she finds the notebook documenting the clubs past shenanigans, a notebook that has been missing for longer than she has been alive.  While she continues to be excluded from the club by nature of her gender, she takes advantage of Alpha’s absence to anonymously coordinate the most stunning Halloween statement the Order has made in a quarter century.  Alpha returns, takes the credit, and Frankie continues to mastermind the clubs activities and public statements until the threat of expulsion and probation hang heavy over the heads of the supposed orchestrator of events.  Will the reputable Frankie take the blame for the disreputation she has spread from behind the scenes?