Domino Pushers

I sometimes wonder if the truly invested teachers and librarians out there ever take the time to think about the impact they have on the world. The impact on individuals that they meet along the way. And how their reaching out to elevate the spirit a child is like knocking down a winding path of dominoes. Dominoes that can fall for years to come.
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I wonder if teachers and librarians like this ever stop to think how they change the world within the walls of their classrooms and libraries. How paying attention to the quiet child who could slip under the radar can change a kid’s perception of themselves. Change their internal compass. How realizing that sometimes the kid who creates the biggest commotion is asking for help in the only way he knows how.
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I just read a comment from a librarian who spent her vacation reading five middle grade books and couldn’t wait to get back to school with them because she knew the exact students she would share them with. She was not patting herself on the back. She was not boastful.
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She is a hero.
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Today, I am thinking of the teachers and librarians who are quietly going about their day just as they always do. Saving children. With the right book. Or a hand on a kid’s shoulder. A knowing glance or nod. Some acknowledgement of understanding. A recess period of one-on-one help. Whether it be academic or otherwise.
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And, I’m thinking of one child who desperately needs one of these heroes.

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Boston, You’re my Home. Sort of.

As a kid, when asked, “If you had three wishes…” one of those wishes was always to live in Boston.

On the way back home to CT from Boston family gatherings, I would practice my Boston accent (which sounded more like a rogue pirate than a Bostonian). I wanted a poster of Larry Bird in those too-short seventies shorts even though I was not a basketball fan. Why? Because of the Boston Shamrock on his jacket. Even now, the “Welcome to Massachusetts” sign feels like a return home.

I have a blessed life, but at the end of it all I will regret one thing. That I never actually lived in Boston.

The events of the Boston Marathon break my heart.

Whenever things get rough—when life hands me cards I’d rather not hold—I come to whatever it is from a place of gratitude. This is one of my best qualities, I think. It has literally saved me.

The events in Boston are still weighing heavily on me, and so I look for the good. Looking for the helpers (as Mr. Rogers used to say) and there are many. I am grateful that the many people I love who were at the marathon were uninjured—even the ones that stood at the finish line and witnessed the blasts. I am grateful that others that I love were spared seeing it at all. I cry for the losses and I cry for the triumphs. And there are so many of both.

I love the phrase, “Boston strong” because it fits—-man, is Boston full of a bunch of scrappy we’re-not-taking-this kind of people; I’ve always loved that about the city. I love how everyone around you in Fenway is your best friend for the day. I love the history of Boston and how the fighting spirit of being free from tyranny was born on its street and on its fields. I love the beauty and the humor and the energy of the city. I love how I feel like I’m part of something special when I’m there. Some of my favorite movies are set in Boston: Good Will Hunting, Fever Pitch, and Far and Away. Heck, I even wrote a whole novel with a beloved Boston theme. Why? Because if you’re going to convey emotion, I believe that your story has to have threads of things you really love.

And, I love Boston.

In the midst of all of this, I am prouder to be a New Englander and an American than ever. But, as an American and a mom and a wife and a sister and a daughter, I mourn too. I will for a long while. I have no doubt, though, that the Boston Marathon will draw record numbers next year and I plan to be there to cheer on the runners. Bostonians—and others from around the world–will stand. And run. With pride and with grit.

I may not have your zip code, Boston, but I have your back. My heart is with you. Just as it’s always been.

Murphys Teacher’s Guide

Hey, Folks!

For those of you who are teachers or librarians, my One for the Murphys Teacher’s Guide is all done.

You’ll find it on the Murphys page on my main website. The link is right under the Image of the book cover.

http://lyndamullalyhunt.com/book_murphys.php

I would love your feedback. After all, I’ll have another one to do soon.

Have a great day!!
Lynda

Full Circle — An Author’s Confession

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So, I have a confession. A couple, actually.

In elementary school, I told both our school librarian and my mother an untruth—that I had lost my copy of Theodore Taylor’s The Cay. The librarian was clearly annoyed and my mother was a bit more than that, having received a bill for the “lost book.” After that, though, it was mine. At the age of ten, it was the first book that I’d ever owned.

I knew it was wrong and I felt bad. I really did. And, I worried I’d be found out. It also bugged me that the librarian and my mother thought I was irresponsible. I wanted to tell them both that I hadn’t actually lost it, but I also knew that the lie was the only way I could keep it.

One for the Murphys has done well—I can’t even express the depth of how happy that makes me—and it has nothing to do with royalty checks or anything like that. (Very few authors are rich–monetarily speaking.) It’s the personal connections.

I have received letters, and e-mails, Tweets, and invitations that have really moved this formerly-Carley-esque author. I’ve further learned about the personal connections people can make to texts. How fictitious people can reach from the pages and save readers. But there are two different e-mails that came in months ago that keep coming back to me—can’t shake them.

One letter was from a teacher, and the other a librarian, who both wrote to tell me that their copies of One for the Murphys had been stolen by students. I got the feeling from both ladies that they both had an idea of who may have taken them, but I also got a sense that they were both going to “let it go.”  The idea of kids stealing does not make me happy—how could I be happy to hear about a child stealing something?

However, I do confess to dropping into my childhood-reluctant-reader-self and being torn. Because I remember lying underneath that scratchy bedspread, holding The Cay and thinking that I just couldn’t give it up. That it was the very first time that I read a story that got under my skin and I didn’t understand why and I knew I had to keep reading it until I figured it out. Over those many readings, I learned a lot about myself. And I learned some things about other people in the world as well.

I shouldn’t have forced my mother to pay for that book. And I am not happy about stolen copies of Murphys. But I have to admit…my heart wonders about the two kids that took them (one 6th grader and one 7th grader). I wonder why. I wonder what it is about the Murphys that spoke to them. I wonder how they feel about what they’ve done. I wonder how they are doing.

But, mostly, I hope that those kids feel like I did in meeting The Cay’s Timothy and Phillip. That meeting Carley, Toni, and the Murphy family will help readers understand themselves, the people around them, their situations, develop compassion for themselves and others, and formulate their own questions about the world.

As an adult who understands those kid-longings, my hope is that these two children find their answers.
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In order to attempt to make amends to the universe, I am offering a HERO pack—for teachers, librarians, principals, and school social workers ONLY. Why? Because they are HEROES!!!!  (You may enter on behalf of a teacher/librarian and the box will be mailed directly to the winner at their school

The winning Hero(ine) will receive all of the following:

1) A new copy of THE CAY by Theodore Taylor because his story helped me so, so much and helped foster my love of stories.

2) A hardcover copy of the 1972 version of TALES OF A FOURTH GRADE NOTHING—this is the same book my teacher, Mr. Christy, handed me one day—and changed everything. Read full story here on Nerdy Book Club Here.

3) A signed first printing (in third now) copy of One for the Murphys for you—the teacher or librarian.

4) A signed first printing copy of Murphys for your library/classroom.

5) A signed ARC (advance reader copy) of Murphys so that you may show your students what the “test run” looks like from a publisher—very cool to see if you haven’t seen one yet.
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6) A bunch of bookmarks for your school

7) A One for the Murphys pen
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8) Five “Be someone’s hero” wrist bands

9) ONE “Be someone’s hero/no cape required” T-shirt (teal, black, or red in size large now or other sizes can be forwarded later (Two are shown in picture to show front and back.)

10) A free 45-minute Skype visit with me. Because I love talking with kids and teachers.

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To enter, please make a comment below. Would love to hear your confessions, thoughts about the post, your favorite part of One for the Murphys, or how much you’d like some free stuff for your school/students–I’m flexible  PLEASE remember to include your e-mail address. (I’m sorry–USA shipping only)

***You may also earn entries by posting this link on Twitter and including my tag — @lynmullalyhunt . You may also retweet my tweet. Thank you
GIVEAWAY ENDS ON Wednesday, January 23rd at 11:59 pm.

Thank you!

Anything and Everything — Sandy Hook

“Sad” is a thin word for how I’ve been feeling.

In making a comment on Facebook about raising kids, I said that “they are worth anything and everything.” And then my warmth and love tilted toward the sad as I, once again, thought of Sandy Hook.  For this community and those sweet children, and those heroic teachers and all those left to grieve have never been far from my thoughts.

I’ve analyzed and tried to process what has happened there. But how does a person ever process a tragedy like this? I’m supposed to be good with words, but I have had so much trouble finding them. While taking care of the everyday details of life, I am distracted. I am experiencing sadness and shock and awe. Optimism and hope. Loss and empathy. And longing. Lots of longing. All twisted together like the threads of a rope. 

Between teaching and volunteering, I have spent about 24 years in elementary schools and so my mind has shown me time and again how this may have played out. As a mother and teacher and human being, it will haunt me for a long while. All I want to do is hug those children and the teachers who protected them.

I am grateful to have my oldest home from college. I am remembering what is important. And I am crying. Still. For those mothers and fathers. Brothers and sisters. All those sweet faces—all that they undoubtedly offered the world in the short time that they were here. And all that the world has lost. And, my chest aches every time I think of their parents. How they probably think that their children are worth anything and everything, too.

I do see people pulling together, though. Reaching out. Opening their eyes and paying attention. I, too, have done these things. It is easy to get lost in the details of everyday life. Since December 14th, I have worked less and listened more. I have taken less for granted. I’ve made some overdue calls and will make more. The things that have been on my mind and have worried me, now worry me far less. And I have witnessed time and again how our humanity seems to flow in the face of events that are so inexplicable.

Late last night, my train from NY rolled into the station. There was a teenage girl who struggled with a large suitcase and so I offered to help her with it. A short time later, she waited in the station lobby holding a cell phone and I asked her if she was okay. If she had a ride. It was nothing—in fact, I almost didn’t ask at all—hesitating because I wondered what she’d think of a stranger asking her if she was okay (I am such an over-thinker.). I ended up asking only because she called after me to thank me for helping with her bag.

It was nothing. Seriously. But it seemed to make such an impression on her. And I began to think of all the little things people think to do—the kindnesses they almost extend and then don’t for some reason. Whether it be worry or overthinking or embarrassment.

I hope that we will all be kinder–strive to be someone’s hero. Not necessarily the kinds of heroes we hear about in Sandy Hook. Just regular, everyday heroes. Offering a smile or a kind word. Inviting someone over for tea who is lonely. For these small kindnesses may have a profound impact. I have been impacted by small gestures, and it makes sense that others would be, too. No more overthinking for me.

This tragedy has been a reality check for a lot of people. A lot of good has followed this horrible event. How it saddens me, though, that our world will go on without those 26 angels.

Drawing done by 7th grader, Connor, from Lousiana (used with permission)

Book Train Rolls Out of the Station!

One of the reasons, I loved going to my grandparents’ was their big wooden box in the basement filled with toys and books. There was one thing in particular that I loved—a giant picture book of Little Red Riding Hood. I’d toss the toys aside to find it and sit myself right down on that cold concrete floor to flip through its pages. Although I had toys, I had no books of my own at home.

After publishing One for the Murphys, (Nancy Paulsen Books/Penguin, May, 2012) a children’s novel about a tough girl who is changed by a loving foster family, I’ve found that few foster children have their OWN books. Yes–most foster parents provide books but for a foster child to OWN a book? This is rare. I want to change that.

I know as an author, a teacher, a parent, and a former child that reading opens doors–not only out in the big world–but also within the heart. I know that if I had had books of my own when I was young, I may have been kick started earlier–rather than waiting until my sixth grade teacher changed everything.  He took the time to look beyond my disheveled appearance. The fact that I’d been in the lowest reading group since first grade. He looked beyond those things and more. He took an interest in me. He set high expectations. And then he began giving me books.

Thank you cards

I learned about the impact a caring adult can have on a life. I also learned that books feed the mind. They change hearts and expectations and perceptions.

And, therefore, they change futures.

So, I started BOOK TRAIN. I hope you will help me spread, not only the books themselves, but also the love and pride of ownership of such beloved books. Books of every genre, for every age group, and every reading level.

If you would like to donate a book, please go HERE to choose an address to a DCF volunteer. This wonderful person will put your donation directly into the hands of a child. (You may order a book online and have it shipped directly–no shipping charge or hassle!) You will receive a Book Train thank you card that will also serve as a tax receipt–provided you include your mailing address with your donation.

Thanks so much.

Now, let’s get this train rolling…

Lynda Mullaly Hunt

Author Guest Post: Jeannie Mobley

Send Me Your Huddled Masses, Yearning to Breath Free. Because They Are Heroes
Jeannie Mobley

When I first heard that Lynda Mullaly Hunt was running a blog on heroes, I thought two things: “What a great blog idea!” and “I have nothing to contribute!” I have nothing against heroes, I just don’t tend to think of the people I admire that way.

I’ve always thought of heroism as a one-off sort of thing. That fash of glory when, without a thought to  his own safety, the man snatches the child from the path of the speeding bus. I’ve always felt the people who have given to me over the years have been the people who haven’t had a flash of glory. They are just basic, everyday good people, for whom making a personal sacrifice for the sake of someone else’s well being or happiness is just how they live.

The Amazing Jeannie Mobley

But then I saw Lynda’s tag line for this blog: Ordinary People doing Extraordinary Things, and I was intrigued. Because I have this phrase on my website, but not referring to heroes. It is my explanation for why I write historical fiction.It is a great disservice to our species to view history as “great men and great events.”

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To me, the joy of history is that it is an amazing testament to the beauty and resilience of the human spirit. The story of human progress is made up of millions of ordinary people, striving toward their own personal survival or happiness or glory. People who built railways across continents to feed their families back in China. Who came to America and suffered under brutal labor conditions to give their children a hope of a better life. Who found ways to laugh and celebrate and experience joy in the face of poverty and hard work.

So, I agreed to do a “hero” post for Lynda, even though I didn’t have a specific hero to celebrate.

The one thing that still bothered me, just a little, was that I was not myself being an everyday hero in all this. And I was jealous when Lynda, Cynthia Levinson, and Natalie Lorenzi were all involved in a joint blog project with me at EMU’s Debuts, that they were writing heroic books that would make a difference in people’s lives: One for the Murphys, a powerful comfort to kids with rough family lives; We’ve Got a Job, a testament to children changing the world; Flying the Dragon supporting kids experiencing culture shock. These authors ARE HEROES, writing books that make a difference in the world. I was just indulging my selfish passion for story telling and history.

Then, a few weeks ago, something strange and miraculous began to happen. It started with a reader’s review on Amazon, that said ” I stumbled on this book when I desperately needed a reminder to believe in my own dream and I am so glad that I did.”

And a few days later, this note on Facebook: “I just finished Katerina’s Wish. I am sure you are thinking why just now? Well, because everything in its time, and I read it when I was supposed to. : ) Thank you.”

Colorado monument dedicated to the miners and their families who lost their lives in the Ludlow Massacre, a labor dispute in 1914 that had a big impact in changing labor laws in the mines.

And then the very next day after that: “Last night I finished KATERINA’S WISH. You know how sometimes you read the right book at the right time and something clicks into place? Yeah. This book, and right now.”

Every comment shot right to my heart. Could it be that my celebration of the extraordinary in the ordinary would be a message of hope and strength, a call to keep going to all my ordinary readers out there? That it would help them find the extraordinary in their own lives?

Could I possibly be serving as an Everyday Hero to them????

And here’s the most beautiful thing about that: these people have all done the extraordinary for me. Because these messages all came in at a low point in my own writing self-esteem. At a time when I was wondering what the point of it all really was, whether it was all worth it. These messages became what I needed in that moment to pick up the pieces, stand up straight, and reach for my own dreams all over again.

Which brings me back to my original question, of who I would write about as a hero for this blog. By now, I hope you can see who it is about. It is about you, whoever you are. Because you have the power of the extraordinary in every good, kind thing that you do. In every moment of conquest over the poor economy, or the sickness of a neighbor, or the heartbreak of a friend. Every time you pick up the pieces, stand up straight, and reach for your dreams all over again.

Keep up the good work. And thank you.

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Thanks so much Jeannie. You are a hero to many. Although, you are far from ordinary.

xoxo

Lynda

Be Someone’s Hero~~Brendan Haas

 

 

Wow~This kid is something else. A true hero.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/01/brendan-haas-boy-who-dona_n_1562574.html?ref=impact

 

The Year I Met Peter by Lynda Mullaly Hunt

Reblogged from Nerdy Book Club:

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A published author writing about herself as a child reader? Well, here’s some honest irony.

As a kid, I was a non-reader.

Having had no exposure to books prior to kindergarten, I started behind. I was placed in the lowest reading group and remained there until the middle of sixth grade.

Now, let me say that I may have been a bit of a conundrum to my teachers.

Read more… 993 more words

Giveaway: Author Skype Visit and Be Someone’s Hero T-shirt

SO excited to be doing my first Skype interview next week with the amazing Joan Young. YEAH!!!

So, in the interest of just jumping into the WHOLE Skype world, I’m offering a raffle for a free 30-45 minute Skype visit with me for any classroom or library!  (Please see terms and conditions at the bottom).

Winner will also receive a “Be someone’s hero. No cape required” T-shirt.

Front (top pic) and back (bottom pic) of shirt

Raffle will end at 11:59 pm on Monday, July 9th (the real Michael Eric’s birthday

I was going to use Rafflecopter but it won’t run on the free version of WordPress–so, here goes.

Earn entries by:

• Making a general comment on this blog (Please include e-mail or Twitter name as contact)
• Making a comment about an everyday hero that you know on Twitter using #oneforthemurphys (The hashtag allows me to find/keep track of entries)
• Citing a favorite line from One for the Murphys~no spoilers, please.
• Tweet about this giveaways using #oneforthemurphys  (The hashtag allows me to find/keep track of entries)
• Share on Facebook (Please tell me this in comment section below)
• Tell me that you are a teacher (5th grade and up) or librarian–cha-ching! extra entry!

Terms and conditions:

~Thank you for your interest in my raffle. Congratulations to the winner!

~Winner must respond to my message of winning within 72 hours or another winner will be chosen.

~This skype visit is for a 30-45 minute Q&A session with the author of One for the Murphys.

~This is for grades 5 and up only.

~If the students have read/heard One for the Murphys prior to the visit, it will be a far richer experience for them. However, I won’t require it.

~Skype may be scheduled for any time that fits both of our schedules during the 2012-13 school year.

~This offer is for the 2012-13 school year only.