MotherReader

I didn’t announce a summer blog break, though I pretty much took one. It’s actually just one in a series of “I didn’t” statements for the summer. A series that is weighing me down, and holding back my return to blogging.

I didn’t review the summer books I intended to cover. I didn’t really read many books, for that matter. I didn’t talk about my week in New York, even though it was wonderful. I didn’t talk about the end of PBS Booklights, even though it was terrible. I didn’t use the time to format my strategy for this blog or KidLitosphere Central. I didn’t work to get my picture book manuscript published. I didn’t announce the call for Cybils judges, even though I’m the organizer again for Fiction Picture Books. I didn’t promote KidLit Con 2010, even though I plan to go and hopefully to speak. I didn’t answer many emails or participate in many discussions. I didn’t read Mockingjay until yesterday.

I didn’t get my house in order — literally or figuratively. And to be honest, I didn’t do all that much for my mom over these months. I mean, I talked to her a lot on the phone. Visited a few times. Arranged a few medical appointments, five of which are in the next ten days at Johns Hopkins Hospital. But it’s not like I was on dedicated family medical leave.

Knowing “I didn’t” has made it harder to get back to blogging. Maybe in the same way an ice cream binge ruins a dieter’s progress or an injury derails a newbie’s exercise program. But the longer I break from writing, the harder it is to start again. And I don’t feel better for not blogging, but less tethered to the commitment of it.

As it turns out, I’m not at my best untethered. So I’ll do as the dieters, exercisers, and rehabbers do and take it one day at a time. One post at a time. As my teen and tween head back to the work of the school year, I’m getting back to the work of blogging. Because the truth for all of us is that the work is easily countered by the time hanging out with friends — whether at recess, in the halls, or online. As they headed back to school today, groaning about waking up early and anticipated homework, they also put on their coolest clothes and talked about friends. I’m doing the same with my coolest clothes (have you seen my newish template?) and talking about you, my friends. Back to blogging we go.

Today I have some cute picture book recommendations over at Booklights. Head over and add some of your favorites. To clarify: I’m focusing on picture books that are particularly cute, not referring to my own writing of recommendations as cute — though it is indeed possible that both are adorable.

I blew off the article in The New York Times about whether teens like The Catcher in the Rye, because I have come to learn that the NYT writes horrible and poorly researched articles when it comes to children’s and Young Adult literature. I used to think that they gave these assignments to interns as an initiation ritual. Now I have a new possibility in mind...

Scene: A bunch of reporters are gathered in a large room presenting ideas for articles. One woman’s idea is shot down. Guy in baseball cap — Yankees — begins a chant of “To The Jar!” As the chant picks up steam, a large glass jar is taken down from a bookshelf. The woman pulls out a slip of paper, and reads the topic aloud: “Holden Sucks, Discuss.” As the room full of people groan at the bad luck, Baseball Cap Guy shouts, “Snap!” End scene.

Anyway, I was less interested in the original article than in John Green’s analysis. I can’t say that I agree with all of it, but I like that a discussion is taking place in the comments. People talking about their ideas about reading and books — what a concept. One thing that came back to me as I read the comments is that some people were talking but not listening. It’s a thought that’s been at the back of my mind since Roger Sutton said, in terms of book blogging, “I worry that Internet 2.0 is turning us all into better talkers than listeners — that’s what will kill criticism from wherever its source.” When we’re so eager to talk that we don’t listen — or online, read with thoughtful process — then what can we do to change that?

I was hoping to escape the latest wave of blog angst, as one might hope to miss the latest flu outbreak going around the office, and I suddenly realized that the similarities are uncanny. Both are extremely uncomfortable. Both can cause a weakened state, uneasy sleep, and loss of appetite. Extremely contagious, they can wipe out a community. Recovery can be slow. The best hope is that during the summer, the illness dies out as people are less connected.

In thinking about this latest epidemic, I’ve been wondering what I can do to help myself and my fellow bloggers. Truly, I don’t underestimate the power of the disease. At times, blogs have even died — I’ve seen it happen. As it occupied the back of my mind these last two weeks, the old standards for preventing disease came to me as my own blog salvation, and maybe yours.

1) Wash Your Hands

The first rule of preventing the spread of illness is based on continual vigilance. If you are in the habit of washing your hands frequently, you’ll pick up fewer germs. If you become even more aware of the practice during particular outbreaks, you can reduce your risk significantly. As it applies to your blog, I’d say you can prevent a blog flu or reduce its severity by maintaining an ongoing awareness of your personal blog mission. Some may find it contained in their review policy, though I tend to see that as more of a statement to the outside world than to yourself. Personally, I could name my reasons for blogging in priority order at any time, and in none of them do ARCs or free books make an appearance. I am comfortable with the choices I’ve made in balancing my relationships with my reviewing and my sense of fun with a nod to professionalism. More important perhaps than my comfort is my constant awareness of those choices.

2) Boost Your Immunity

As illnesses sweep down, I swear by Vitamin C — even though everything I read says it doesn’t make any difference. But I think that there’s a case for it. There is the element that one believes that it is working, but I’d put even more emphasis on the sense of taking control, being active, doing something. For blog flu, you can boost your immunity by getting involved in something you love about book blogging. Do that interview, or write that exciting review, or even take a short break to read that amazing book. Drop briefly the things that are draining your energy, because you need your strength.

3) Cover Your Mouth When You Cough

If we want to prevent the spread of disease, we have to acknowledge that we may become the cause. Perhaps as carriers with a mild case, or on our way to getting sick. Either way, we have a responsibility to cover our mouths when we cough. Okay, this rule may be the most direct an analogy to blogging. Because as bloggers, we tend to share. And when we have something to really share, it’s hard to hold back. But it’s one of the ways we spread the blog flu from blogger to blogger until everyone is sick — sick and tired of talking about blog angst. Notice though that I said cover your mouth when you cough. I didn’t say don’t cough. It isn’t realistic to expect that we would hold back talking about our blog flu any more than it’s realistic to not cough during a cold. But we can be careful about how it impacts others, and maybe that involves softening the sound, reducing the force, turning away.

If, despite efforts at prevention, you find yourself coming down with the blog flu, remember to take good care of yourself. Just as you can go a few days without eating much more than saltines and soup, you can go a few days without blogging (or blogging very little). Your blog won’t starve during a case of blog flu. And just like you don’t lose weight during those days of low-calorie meals, your blog won’t lose statistics. And if you do lose weight or stats, once you’re back at full power, both the pounds and visitors come back.

Look to the things that make you feel good, or at least feel better. Tap into strong relationships. Find things that make you smile. A sense of humor can be a saving grace. A well-developed sense of irony is better than a good night’s sleep.

I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that laughter is the best medicine. Except for Percocet, which is really good, too.