New York! New York!

I'm back from New York folks and my head is still spinning from my publishing whirl.'At the SCBWI conference. Friend and fellow author, Holly Cupala has put out the conference so much better than me, check out Brimstone Soup blog entry. Still, I couldn't help weeping when Susan Cooper spoke so eloquently about the dichotomy of light and dark within us all and the need to explore the ghosts that haunt our souls -- here is the star nursery, here in the haunting.

A resounding brilliant to J.L. Bell. Thanks for listening to and answering my meandering questions and adding your unabashed gossip about colonial America. You have enlightened me in countless ways. sandmen, contracts, a country of children, education, and we didn't even get to plagues, silversmiths, furniture makers and what about those whalers?

Hey, to Chris, Marion, Obadinah and John S. Thank you for the most magical day, one of those rare, perfect, carefree times that spins out for hours and that will be treasured for a lifetime. Taxis from the hotel to the most gorgeous green glass sea of broken ice, bobbing on the edges of the river and then traveling out around Manhattan by boat, swinging right by the Statue of Liberty. An icy wind burned my cheeks, roared in my ears. Orange-red fire of a setting sun backed the eternal flame of Lady Liberty.

The previous day I had watched night creep over the Empire State building in a movie at the MOMA and then I watched as the night glow flooded the city for real. Shining red, white and blue lights on the Empire State building stretched upward like sentinels. As we passed the Financial District, random bits of songs fired within me, like a thousand voices of healing, humming tunes of redemption and hope in the wind. Humans are that that way, we always find hope hidden in the darkest day. Pandora's box swung wide open and after the shrieking voices have long disappeared, hope springs eternal. We find the Phoenix rising from the ashes, and from the tomb, Christ from the grave aspiring, triumphing over death's sharp sting.

I feel within myself that someone out there is going to write a children's book about the Twin Towers and the day they fell, and that book will have healing in it wings. I pray for that haunted heart to hold on and to wait 'til their strength is renewed, 'til the day they rise up on the wings of eagles.I have more things to say but they will have to wait. I've got contracts to read and sign. I will be back soon with more news.