This Is My Secret: The Blog and Website of Writer Kristin Cashore

My twin nieces live in Jacksonville, FL, an area that generally votes red, but only by a couple percentage points.

After the election, one of my nieces noticed that the neighbors had taken down their Hillary sign, and she worried that the neighbors were sad. So she wrote them a letter.




My other niece also wrote a letter (and you can too).

I finished my revision!

My next responsibility is to start the next revision (draft 7) as soon as possible.

But before I do that, I'm taking just a few days off... from revising. Not from creating things.

Those of you who were around the blog in January might remember Basil, the common house zebra. Well, after I created Basil, a request came in for Sock Sunny and Sock Tanker.

This is real-life Sunny.

This is real-life Tanker.

Sunny the dog and Tanker the cat live in Florida with two seven-year-olds. Sunny LOVES Tanker. Tanker's feelings for Sunny are more complicated, but that's neither here nor there. The point is that months and months after acquiring the appropriate socks, I FINALLY got to work.

I started with Sock Sunny, because a sock dog requires less altering of a sock zebra pattern than a sock cat does. Socks animals made from this pattern generally turn into long-faced, thin animals, not wonderfully roly-poly cats with round heads. I really wasn't sure what I …

Sometimes when my nieces (now aged nearly 4) visit, I leave things within their reach on purpose, just to see what they make treasures of.

Today, codenames: Isis and Phoenix (age 3) asked me if I have any scary dreams. I told them (a modified version of) a scary dream I had recently. Isis patted me sympathetically on the arm and said, "Don't worry, we'll help you. We jump on people and scare away their bad dreams." The dream removal process commenced immediately without warning and was enthusiastic and heartfelt, if rather painful. It'll sure be nice not to have any more scary dreams.

***

I played a game with a bewildering series of changing rules, involving throwing a ball, singing "Pump Up the Jam" (?), and drawing exactly what I was instructed to draw on successively smaller pieces of paper, the final one of which was the size of a coconut flake and which Isis produced from her mouth. When I protested that I could not draw a scene of a cat and the Easter Bunny on an infinitesimal and soggy piece of paper, Isis declared me the winner of the game and promised me two pieces of chocolate,…

I am getting some much-needed rest and rejuvenation with the help of some little girls in Florida. Recent conversations:

Codename Isis (aged 3) (in the living room, building a puzzle): Where is the other puzzle piece?
Codename Phoenix (aged 3) (thoughtfully): Science will solve this mystery.

Isis (in the park): How will we get these ants off the tree stump?
Phoenix (thoughtfully): A woodpecker will solve this mystery.

Isis and Phoenix (in my bed this morning): Kristin, Kristin, can we help you put your tooth protector in its case? (That's the mouthguard I wear when I'm sleeping, being a tooth grinder. For some reason, of all my possessions, this is their favorite. It has fascinated them for years.)
Me: Of course!
Phoenix: It doesn't fit on our teeth.
Isis: It only fits on big people teeth.
Me: Actually, the dentist made it so that it only fits on my teeth! It doesn't fit on anyone else's teeth in the world.
Isis (extremely grave): That's sad.

***

Last night at…

(Background: My nieces, codenames: Phoenix and Isis, are approaching 2 ½ years old.)
Someone discovers an enormous quantity of water inside one of the low kitchen cabinets where the girls have just been playing together.
Me: Isis, did you pour the water from your cup into the cabinet? Isis: Yes. Me: Phoenix, did you pour the water from your cup into the cabinet? Phoenix: No. Me: You didn’t? Phoenix: No, but I poured my water into Isis’s cup.
Sometimes it’s difficult to maintain the appropriate stern expression.
***
Isis, Phoenix, and I are lying on the floor together, hanging out, talking. Each girl is holding a bottle she found in the kitchen.
Isis (holding out her bottle to me): Will you read it and tell me what they is? Me (reading the labels): Yes. This one is coconut oil and the other one is balsamic vinegar. Isis: No, they are peepee and poopy!
This joke rocks Phoenix’s world. She tries to repeat it, the way one does when one enjoys a joke, but she’s laughing so hard that she can’t even get t…

Kristin bumps her head and says Ow.
Codename: Phoenix: Kristin, did you break your crown while you were fetching a pail of water?

Codename: Joe is driving the car, at a reasonable pace. Codenames: Phoenix and Isis are in the back seat.
Phoenix (screaming): GO FAST! GO FAST!
Isis (screaming): SLOW DOWN! SLOW DOWN!

I am reading Death Comes for the Archbishop on my e-book reader. Phoenix, awake from her nap, wanders in. I put the device to sleep immediately and close it inside its case, but not before she sees.
Phoenix: What you doing, Kristin? Are you reading your book?
Me: Yes, Phoenix, I am reading my book.
Phoenix: Can I see it?
Me (holding it so she can see): Yes, you can see it.
Phoenix: Can I just hold it?
Me: You can hold it for a minute, but then you have to give it back to Kristin.
Phoenix (holding the reader in delight): Can I just open it?
Me: The book is sleeping now, Phoenix. We need to let it sleep.
Phoenix: Can I just see it sleeping?
Me (opening the case): We can look at it once, but …

Last Christmas, at my parents' house, my nieces (who were about 16 months old at the time) kept telling us that they wanted to be read to, but every time their mother, codename: Cordelia, began a new book, they would get distracted, wander around, then come back a few minutes later with another book, asking to be read to. They didn't seem to know what they were looking for.

Then Cordelia picked up Where the Wild Things Are. It was their first time ever seeing this book. Both girls went still; both girls watched and listened, entranced, to the entire story.

I felt that something I knew in my heart about books -- especially our very best books -- had just been proven true.

Here's a recent Fresh Air interview with Maurice Sendak. It's about 20 minutes long. As my sister codename: Apocalyptica told me when she sent me the link, it will make you happy and it will make you cry.

To calm the mind: a favorite picture from last Christmas.

August is Extreme Birthday Month here on the blog. This month, I turn 35, my father turns a particularly distinguished age, and the babies, if you can believe it, turn TWO -- and that's not even taking into consideration all the friends with birthdays now-ish. I'm sending happy birthday wishes to Switzerland and France this week! :o)

I have to say, I feel bad about how weak my blog posts have been lately. I just... well, remember my blog post with the emoticons? Please refer to that if you're wondering how I am. It's not a permanent state. That's the best that can be said of it.

Because I don't have the juice to create a new birthday poll and because I'm still rather fond of the one I created three years ago, here it is again: What would make the best birthday present? Please vote! If you can't see the poll, check it out on my Blog Actual.


What would make the best birthday present?

Yours in needing some rest,
Kristin

In the Boston Public Garden, walking on the grass is not allowed. The other day, codename: Isis (nearly two years old) kept trying to climb over the low chain to get onto the grass. Codename: Cordelia said to her, "No, Isis, we're not allowed on the grass." Isis said, "Okay Mommy." Then she threw her hat as far as she could over the chain and said, "I need to go get my hat."

In the meantime, in order to stop codename: Phoenix (nearly two years old) from trying to climb into the duck pond in an attempt to bring a duck his missing feather, I had to create an elaborate story about how the feather was going to float across the water to the duck all by itself. (Around boats and over waves, dodging the fishies.)

Hey, Cambridge-and-Environs residents! Bob Slate is coming back! YAHOO! Those of you who've been reading my blog for a while may remember how sad I was when the news came out that Bob Slate Stationer was closing.

In other news... for those of…

Lack of blogging is due to the presence of toddler twins in the house.

This morning, I wasn't wearing my glasses, so everything was a little fuzzy at the edges. I thought I saw codename: Isis, two years old, down the hall. Someone I was pretty sure was codename: Phoenix, also two years old, came marching up to me. (These girls are identical, but the more time you spend with them, the more they just look like themselves. Which isn't to say I don't make mistakes all the time.)

"Hi Phoenix!" I said.

"That's Phoenix!" she said, pointing down the hall to Isis. For a minute, I was EXTREMELY confused. Then she started giggling. It was just a game; she really was Phoenix; I was right all along.

On the day these girls realize fully the power they possess, we're all in trouble. :o)

Writers out there: I strongly recommend the book Writing the Other: a Practical Approach, by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward. It's the companion book to Shawl and Ward's Writing the Other Workshop. From the workshop website (linked to above): "Are you afraid to write about characters whose racial heritage, sexual orientation, or religion differs from your own? Do you think you'll get it wrong — or cause offense? In this intensive four-hour workshop, authors Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward will teach you to write sensitively and convincingly about characters of diverse backgrounds and cultures." The same can be said for this book, which contains a lot of great information, guidelines, exercises, etc., to help you write characters whose race, sexual orientation, age, ability, religion, or sex differ from your own. The book is gentle. Shawl and Ward tell the reader that it's okay to make mistakes; that it's worthwhile -- more than worthwhile, important -- to try. …

A Text Message from My Sister, Secret Codename: Cordelia
I've decided we should make gingerbread people with the girls while ur here. We'll put down a tarp.

An Email from My Sister, Secret Codename: Apocalyptica the Flimflammer
For Christmas I am making Mom and Dad a present that involves seashells. Yesterday I went for a very long walk along the beaches of Swampscott that felt more like a safari than a walk, because my shoes were full of water and my nose was freezing off (clearly I've never been on a safari). I found a myriad of fantastic shells, and chief among my favorites were a bunch of empty mussel shells that had other smaller shells of various colors anchored to them, so that they looked liked fantastical hybrids. I brought them home, washed and dried them, and left them on my bathroom counter overnight. Today I spread twenty-five shells all around my work surface and started working with rubber cement. At a certain point, something moved in my peripheral vision and…

The girls are playing together quietly in the other room. Signs suggest that they intend to keep doing so indefinitely -- but it's 2pm, which is a good nap time, and they aren't bouncing around with energy, so... well, you might as well try.

You pick one up in either arm, stand up (that's one serious squat), and sit in the rocking chair. At first, they don't protest; this could, potentially, be interesting. Maybe you're going to play Trot Trot to Boston with them, or let them bang on your laptop. But then, when all you seem to be doing is rocking them and ignoring their signals that they'd rather get down... well, this might call for some screaming and struggles. At least, now that they're 14 months old, they're more aware of each other and of their own bodies than they used to be, so they're not kicking and pushing each otheras they did 7 months ago. No, the kicks and pushes are directed at the appropriate person: you.

Briefly, the girls are dis…

When I travel, I almost always bring work along, but the kind of work depends on the kind of travel. For me, writing and revising require a level of focus that itself requires periods of planned, uninterrupted alone time. ("Planned" meaning "anticipated." The uninterrupted alone time can happen on the spur of the moment, but I have to know at the time it begins that it's happening. In other words, I need to be confident that I will not be interrupted in the next however-long. In (other) other words -- if I believe the cable guy is coming, then that's not good writing time, even if it turns out that the cable guy never comes. Also, when the cable guy doesn't come, WOW do I ever hate him for ruining my writing time for nothing. But I digress.)

As it happens, planned uninterrupted alone time does not occur very often when one has traveled to a house of twin babies. :o)

Therefore, last week, when I went to Florida, I did not bring writing or revising work.…

It's moving season here in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Today I watched neighbors lower furniture through the window of a third story apartment using a rope and pulley. This reminded me of seeing all the pulley hooks at the top of houses in Amsterdam when I was on tour last spring. Apparently, Amsterdam stairways are narrow!

Of course, it also reminded me of the babies and levers.

And it reminded me of high school physics, which was one of many bad experiences during a difficult stretch of time that I'm happy to have lived through, but that you couldn't pay me enough to live through again. Have I mentioned lately how much I despise adults who think that life is easy for the young?

I just watched (and enjoyed) Almost Famous, which brought me back to high school, too, and a music decision I had to make at one point: should I buy Tommy, performed by The Who, or Tommy, the Broadway cast recording? For those of you who love classic rock, I'm sure it's an obvious decision; …

The Internets surely are dangerous today for people (i.e., me) trying to avoid the temptation of Mockingjay spoilers.

That's why I'm going to blog about twin babies!

So, here's the thing about twin babies: the ways they interact with each other are awesome. For example, the way the awake one tries to wake up the sleeping one: by patting her stomach, rolling around on top of her, and yelling, "ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" Or, the way the cheerful one tries to cheer up the fussy one: by patting her stomach, rolling around on top of her, and giggling, until both babies are giggling and rolling together.

This is IMMENSELY awesome.

And how about when they work together as a team?

The other day, I was in the kitchen, throwing some yummy baby foods into the crockpot. The babies were in the (baby-proofed) office, with the double stroller, wheels locked, in the office doorway, blocking them inside, akin to a baby gate. The babies were being pretty quiet, hanging out together, o…

Sometime in July, I got a massage. Before we started, as usual, I gave the masseuse a rundown of all the little aches and pains, pulled muscles and bruises I had so she would know what she was working with. It was a longer list than usual, and then, after we'd started, she kept pointing out problems I hadn't even realized I had. Finally, when she pointed out that my knee was puffy, I said, "I'm a wreck!" And she said, "Nah, you're just using what you've got."

This summer, I've been using what I've got, all the time, to the extreme. I've been working really, really hard, and I've been playing really, really hard. Some of the time, I was working so hard that I had to stop trapezing because the pace of writing hurt my arms too much. And some of the time, I was up to my ears (well, more accurately up to my lower thighs) in HEAVENLY BABIES.

So.

This is not the most earth-shattering post ever, I know. I just wanted to explain my …

What used to be birthday week around these parts is now birthday month... because as I approach my 34th birthday, guess who -- and who else -- is (are?) about to turn one whole year old?


That's secret codename: Phoenix on the left and secret codename: Isis on the right, in a photo taken way back in March. My nieces! Congratulations, codenames: Cordelia and Joe! You have gone almost an entire year without sleep!!!

And my dad is also about to be a birthday boy!

If life allows, I'll try to come up with a brand new birthday poll, but please don't hold your breath, folks; things are a bit hairy right now.

Leos, unite.