No matter how many amazing things I had seen in Ethiopia– castles rising through the mist and mountains, flamingoes flapping in a pink cloud over a Rift Valley lake–when I visited the U.S., I couldn’t talk about it. When I arrvied as an eighth grader, my fellow classmates in Pasadena asked, “Did you see Tarzan?” I learned
My Boston time is coming to an end, but I still have the signing at the American Girl store at the Nadick Collection near Boston to look forward to today. Meanwhile, yesterday at ALA, my big thrill o the day was getting to see Advance Reader Copies for the new books coming out from two former students
Okay…Lanie has taken some hits over “do we need another blonde doll?” I loved hearing a recent comment that she’s thrilled to see a blonde girl who’s determined to get outside–in spite of her family’s inside genes–and loves science. Lots of stereotypes in this world. Lots of ways to work against the grain of those stereotypes. Go,
One lane in a smear of snow. Someone is nuts enough to pass and for seconds we’re all swirling. Then, for one hundred minutes, my world is i words: One white stripe. I slide. Throat tight. Ice. Sticking to 45. I-I-I don’t like driving through snow. Love that o word. Home.
One of the moms at the store yesterday said, “Thanks for doing this on a day when most people want to be with their families.” What a sweetie to know that. And the airport was crammed and the peace-and-quiet Worldclub closed early for New Year’s Day and most eating places, too, so I munched on
Whew. If it’s January 1, this must be Minneapolis. Cold Minneapolis. But I’m still warmed by the thrilldom of meeting those young readers and scientists today. Adrienne Clarke, marketing manager in the Chicago American Girl Place, said the line was LONG. Really long. I signed books for a Lainey and a Dakota. I signed books
Hmmm…it seems information about the new doll (and…ahem…my books) is leaking pretty fast, now. Maybe even officially. Once the blank covers went up on amazon with my name attached, speculation bubbled that the doll of the year would be African American. Okay, well, I did grow up in Ethiopia. I’ve been tickled pink–as my grandmother
What a whirl! I was doing an author visit at some international schools in Indonesia when I got an email from the editor who brought SABA: UNDER THE HYENA’S FOOT into the world as part of the “Girls of Many Lands” series that American Girl was trying. Those dolls–dressed to their fingernails in historically correct
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