Winding Oak's Bookology Magazine

Writing Road Trip

Lisa Bullard. Photo by Katherine Warde

In the Driver’s Seat

To be able to learn how to get some­where, I have to dri­ve the route myself. Rid­ing shot­gun doesn’t work if I’m try­ing to mem­o­rize the route; some­how the feel­ing of the nec­es­sary twists and turns has to seep up through the steer­ing wheel and into the pores of my hands for me to be able to reli­ably retain it.… more

Lisa Bullard. Photo by Katherine Warde

Traction

I try to deliv­er reg­u­lar advice you can use to aid and inspire your young writ­ers, but this week I’m lean­ing on the wis­dom of oth­ers. This is advice I’ve found help­ful those times it feels like my writ­ing wheels are stuck in deep mud and spin­ning wild­ly and I’ll nev­er gain trac­tion again. Here, from a vari­ety of astute advi­sors, are the best tac­tics for when you’re stuck as a writer: BIC” —children’s writer extra­or­di­naire Jane Yolen Expla­na­tion: Short for “Butt‚ In Chair,” which means put your back end on a seat­ing device, in front of the key­board, or note­book and pen­cil, and write — whether you think you can do it today or not.… more

Lisa Bullard. Photo by Katherine Warde

Signs, Signs, Everywhere There’s Signs

When I was a young teenag­er my fam­i­ly made a road trip from Min­neso­ta to Texas to vis­it my father’s par­ents. The long trip south most­ly fea­tured one kind of civ­il war: the end­less bick­er­ing of my two broth­ers and the male cousin who’d come along for the ride. For the trip back north, I staked out a hidey-hole in the far back of the sta­tion wag­on and crammed myself in amongst the lug­gage, still-wet-from-the-hotel-pool swim­suits, and snack foods.… more

Lisa Bullard. Photo by Katherine Warde

That’s How I Roll

As a kid I was the one who insti­gat­ed a lot of the fun. It might be play­ing pirates in the tree house, or cops and rob­bers in my mom’s parked sta­tion wag­on, or spies who wrote secret code in lemon juice (lat­er reveal­ing the mes­sage by hold­ing it over the toast­er). Often our make believe reflect­ed what­ev­er sec­tion of the library I hap­pened to be work­ing my way through at the time.… more

Lisa Bullard. Photo by Katherine Warde

Tuned in to Talk Radio

When I was a lit­tle girl and my Min­neso­ta grand­par­ents came to vis­it, we shared them around for sleep­ing pur­pos­es. One night I would share my dou­ble bed with Grand­ma, and the next night my broth­er and I would switch places, and I’d sleep on his top bunk while Grand­pa set­tled into the bot­tom bunk. Grand­ma was a bit of a night owl like I am, so it was nev­er hard to keep her talk­ing.… more

Lisa Bullard. Photo by Katherine Warde

That Time I Drove the Karma Bus

All fresh­men at my col­lege had to wear bean­ies at the start of school. Besides the obvi­ous fash­ion quandary, the prob­lem was that stu­dents from the town’s rival col­lege glo­ried in steal­ing bean­ies. And I knew if any of my upper class­mates caught me sans beanie, they had the pow­er to make me stand on a table in the cafe­te­ria and sing my high school fight song.… more

Lisa Bullard. Photo by Katherine Warde

Curves Ahead

I was thrilled when Teenage Nephew 1 grew old enough to mow my yard. We nego­ti­at­ed a price and then head­ed out­side. I knew that at his house, his father was King of the Rid­ing Mow­er, so mow­ing was a com­plete­ly new skill to Teenage Nephew. So I care­ful­ly reviewed the basics with him: mow­er oper­a­tion, safe­ty issues, how he shouldn’t plow over my rose bush­es.… more

Not Enough Beds!

Tripping with Mona Lisa

After my first book was pub­lished, one of my friends gave me a know­ing look and said, “I’ve figured out exact­ly what your sto­ry means.” I nod­ded wise­ly, two of us in on the same secret togeth­er, but truth­ful­ly? I was eager to hear what she had to say. Because in all the time I’d spent writ­ing, revis­ing, and talk­ing about the book to oth­er peo­ple, it had hon­est­ly nev­er occurred to me to ask myself what the sto­ry meant.… more

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