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About Me |
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Me and the Divine Ms. Marty Crisp, signing books and eating cookies in Lancaster, PA. |
Once upon a time, I was a baby. My hobbies were sleeping, yawning, crying, and drinking from a bottle.
And then I grew.
I lived on a country road named Swamp Road, in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
When I was growing up in the 1960s and 1970s, I thought that maybe I wanted to be a rock star or a Roller Derby Queen, but I've now found something even more fun! What's cool about being a writer? We work in our pajamas, we eat lunch (and chocolate) whenever we're hungry, and we can take a nap if we feel like it! We don't have to brush our teeth or comb our hair or get dressed, but most of us do it anyway, especially if we have to leave our house for something. Some of us run when the UPS man arrives, because we don't want to frighten him.
As a kid, some of my favorite things were: chocolate, Tastykakes, The Wizard of Oz, Nancy Drew books, Harry Chapin music, horses, dogs, Santa Claus, swimming, the ocean, chocolate, monkeys, Archie comic books, MAD Magazine, Quisp cereal, The Philadelphia Flyers, The Partridge Family (especially Keith), The Brady Bunch, Dark Shadows (These were TV shows, kids!), the color purple, my red electric Epiphone guitar, my yellow 1969 Mustang, chocolate, chocolate, chocolate. I also loved corn on the cob, and once I broke the World's Record (at our house) for eating the most ears of corn: something like 9 at a time.
I loved Halloween.
My brother Randy and I used to make the best haunted house in our basement, and our relatives came to take the scary tour. We didn't charge admission, but now we think we should have. I still love Halloween, and I always have a special haunted dinner for the holiday. I play the spooky sounds CD, dress up in a costume (usually with a pink wig), and serve mysterious foods by candlelight. My Witches' Brew - Sprite soda with sizzling Pop Rocks and an ice cube shaped like a frozen hand - is a huge hit. Sometimes I also make Brains On A Plate or Skeleton Salad.
I have just one brother: Randy. Randy loves Bugs Bunny and Shania Twain. He's afraid of outhouses, because I told him that killer chickens live under outside bathrooms, and they peck you if you dare to sit on the wooden seats. Randy's now in his 40s, but he still believes what I told him about outhouses. He swears that there really are strange chickens under outhouses.
Randy's wife Sharon is afraid of spiders.
I embarrass her in public restrooms by singing really loudly from the privacy of the stall. Once, an old lady I didn't know joined me in singing, "Oh, my darling Clementine." Sharon almost died of mortification. I also sometimes enjoy wearing toilet seat covers around my neck, a fun trick I learned from my cousin's daughter Leah. Leah's Mom is Karen, and when Sharon and I eat dinner with Karen, my name is changed to Taryn. We are then Karen, Sharon, and Taryn. (UPDATE: My wonderful & fun cousin Karen lost her battle with ovarian cancer in October, 2004. She flew away to play with the angels, and we here on Earth miss her every day. I bet that she's found another Sharon & Taryn in Heaven, and is enjoying lots of good meals and laughs. Karen and I have a plan to meet in Heaven's Candy Store when I fly with the angels someday. Here's a short essay I wrote about the last hour I spent with Karen.
One of my most embarrassing experiences in elementary school was falling into the toilet with one of my brand new Keds sneakers. To make a long story short: my friend Darlene convinced me to stand on the toilet and look through the grate into the Boys' Room. I fell. So just feel free to call me "Toilet Shoes," okay? My favorite shoes nowadays, in my old age, are Chuck Taylor sneakers (high-top, black/white), Doc Martens, and Ugg boots.
I always loved to read, and as a kid usually had my nose buried in a book. I was very impressed by the fact that John Updike, a famous writer, grew up close to my home. This gave me hope that somebody from a normal country place could grow up & write books. I was also impressed by the fact that somebody from near my home - I think her name was Mary Lou Hess - was a Roller Derby Queen with the Philadelphia Warriors. This too gave me hope. Heck, if somebody from Morgantown could roller-skate for a living, the world was an exciting place!
When I was in First Grade, I attended a one-room school. The California School, on California Road in Pennsylvania, was a magical place. We had a woodstove in the classroom and a fresh-water spring across the road. There were outhouses (with no killer chickens) and a great hill for sledding. The teacher was Mr. Overly, and he taught all six grades, one row at a time. There were a few shelves of books, but no library. In Second Grade, I moved to the brand-new Caernarvon Elementary School, where there was - TA-DA - a library!! I still dream of my elementary school library, which was a Wonderland to me. In my dream, I'm reaching up for a big, thick pink book. In my heart, there's a little squish whenever I think of that pink dream book.
When summertime arrived, I missed the school library. But then came another miracle: A library on wheels. The Bookmobile!! The Bookmobile didn't travel to my country road, however my Aunt Mary would bring books for me when the Bookmobile came to her town. I was always so excited to see the books Mary had chosen! Some of the books that remain in my memory are "Baby Island," "Mrs. Mike," "Cheaper by the Dozen," and all of the Nancy Drew books. I wanted to be Nancy Drew, in-between longing to be Sally Starr, a TV cowgirl in a sparkly rodeo outfit. Other times I wished to be Catwoman.
My heroes: Catwoman, Nancy Drew, Sally Starr
Before becoming a writer, I worked at various jobs, including being a waitress, a lifeguard, and a secretary. Being a secretary meant that I had to wear pantyhose (ugh), high heels (double ugh), and behave in a serious manner (triple ugh). I also had to type a lot, file boring papers, and make coffee for the boss.
Being a lifeguard was okay, because I had a good tan, but I never got to rescue anybody.
I was a good waitress, except for the night that I was very tired and forgot to give a customer a roll to go along with his hot dog.
I also worked as an exercise attendant at a place called Slender You, where I helped the obese and elderly from table to table.
Oh, and I also worked at a Turkey Hill Minit Market, where I met lots of interesting characters, including Ralph. Ralph wore a raccoon-skin hat and claimed that his dying dog said "Mama" before it passed.
As I worked at all of these unique places, meeting unique characters, I saved people and experiences and conversations in my head. I knew that someday I'd use some of this stuff in my writing. Writers are spies. We eavesdrop. We collect characters. We watch you. We listen to you. We smell you. We put you on paper. Beware, people. We are The Spies of the Universe. We're the ones sitting on the boardwalk bench, watching you throw Cheetos to the seagulls, breaking the laws of the beach police.
Writing is magic. It's a miracle. Think about it: With just 26 letters of the alphabet, a zillion different books may be written! Books can carry you like magic carpets, to other worlds and into other people's lives. You can become a cowgirl in a sparkly hat or a girl detective or Catwoman. You can be a Roller Derby Queen or a wizard or King of the World. If I were Queen of the World, everybody would have an ocean, lots of good food to eat, a warm house, tons of love, and a room full of books.
A turning point in my writing career came in 1993, when I won a scholarship to attend the Highlights Foundation Writers Workshops at Chautauqua. I'm forever grateful to the John Crane Memorial Scholarship. Also, the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators is a great resource.
I'm no longer the only writer in my house: my son Zach, who's almost 18, has a poem in the book "Dream Makers" published in September of 2003 by Boyds Mills Press. The book is illustrated by the illustrious Neil Waldman.
Proceeds from the book will help kids through the Childrens' Aid Society in New York City. Zach's poem begins like this:
"My perfect world -
My place of dreams -
will have a monkey driving
my limousines . . ."
Zach is a lot like me: he loves monkeys, dogs, horses, and chocolate. We both like the bands Matchbox 20 and Good Charlotte. (We actually met Good Charlotte in Hershey, Pa. I sometimes write articles for magazines and newspapers, and got to interview the guys of the band in their dressing room!!!) Zach and I both play bass guitar (he's in a band called ClearMinded.) We are guitar freaks, and fans of Fender guitars. My bass guitar is a Fender jazz bass: the silvery blue/green of old Corvettes of the 1960s. It's way cool. I love my guitar! I also still own my 1969 red Epiphone, and a 1970 Alvarez acoustic. Zach plays a warlock (shaped like the old Kiss band guitar!) Silvertone, and he's a killer lead singer. Some musical interests we share: Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, The Grateful Dead, and The Rolling Stones. (It's fun to enjoy the same music that your kid likes!) Other musicians I admire include Bob Dylan, Lucinda Williams, Mazzy Star, Son Volt, Lucy Kaplansky, Yo La Tengo, Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, The Goo-Goo Dolls, Train, and tons of others.
Zach's photo is below (I need to update Zach's picture! He's now a shaggy-haired teenager, taller than me, and knows everything.)
I played in a basement band for a few years with a bunch of fun guys: Pierre and Perry and Clark and Rob. Clark flew away to play with the angels a few years ago, and he now jams with Jerry Garcia. (An old dead rock star, kids.) I played for a short time with an all-woman band. It was fun. I got to be a rock star for a little bit. I'm hoping to someday form a band of children's book writers & illustrators. I think we'll call ourselves the Fuzzy Bunny Slippers or something like that. Perhaps we'll throw out books instead of guitar picks. We'll have our pictures on the cover of the Rolling Stone. Groupies will follow us. Oprah and Katie Couric will call, but maybe we'll be too busy.
Okay, back to the Land of Reality:
We live in the little town Bowmansville, Pennsylvania. We have two dogs: an old Golden Retriever named Angel, and a young Bichon named Ozzy. We've had Angel for many years, and we recently adopted Ozzy from the Humane League. We think that Angel is becoming senile, as she pretends that a pink football is her puppy. Angel wore a tutu once, but she ripped the leg and was a disheveled ballerina. Ozzy was a pirate for Halloween. He loves to watch Shania Twain on TV (and so does my brother Randy.)
My son Justin is grown up, and he lives nearby. Justin's wife Christine modeled (as the grown-up diving-horse girl) for my book "The Girl on the High-Diving Horse." Justin & Christine made me a grandmother ("M'Mere") on May 18th, 2004!!!!! Here's Connor Jay Oatman at birth:
And here's the Con-Man with grandfather John ("Pop") at Connor's parents' wedding:
I love being M'Mere. (That's the French word for Grandmother. I'm not French, but I like the way it sounds.)
I have a fun life. I like my life. It's a wonderful life. I get to be alone a lot, but I also get to travel sometimes. I like learning new things. Zach and I learned to ski a few years ago. I'm not good at it, but I try! We swam with dolphins for the first time in the summer of '04. It was magical and mystical.
I can be silly and crazy, because people expect writers to be a little bit weird and eccentric. I haven't worn pantyhose or high heels for years. I can wear Chuck Taylor sneakers or Doc Marten boots or purple Uggs, and it's ok. I can wear my fairy-hem skirts and nobody blinks an eye. (Hey, I dressed like Stevie Nicks before Stevie dressed like Stevie Nicks! She's a cool old rock star, for you kids who are too young to remember Fleetwood Mac.)
I love being a Mom, and I'm proud of how my kids have turned out. I didn't know how to change a diaper when I had Justin, but I figured it out. Justin got his head stuck in the back of a chair one time, but I got him out. Zach got his shoe stuck in the "V" of a tree while climbing at the age of 5, but I rescued him. I felt like SuperMom. It was almost as good as being Catwoman.
I haven't fallen into a toilet in many years.
I've met lots of great people in my writing journey. Kent Brown of Boyds Mills Press/Highlights For Children has been a wonderful Great Encourager. My editors are awesome. My agent Deborah Warren is smart, sparkly, savvy, and spectacular. I've been blessed with the most talented illustrators on earth.
To learn about some of my cool writer, artist, and musician friends, check out their websites:
Marty Crisp My local co-conspirator in livening up staid Lancaster County with "The LO High School of B.S., Ruse, and Illusion." She asks herself WWLD (What Would Linda Do?), and then does the opposite.
Lola Schaefer My most organized friend, a good writer, and a helpful critiquer. Keeps me in line, which is a most challenging task.
Jeff Anderson One of the funniest guys I know, a great writer, and one of the best educational presenters in the U.S.! Jeff and Lola rocked my novel at the Lola Amicalola writing retreat.
Ted Lewin He and Betsy make me laugh really hard.
Betsy Lewin She makes sure that Ted comes home from Gleason's Gym.
Michael Dooling Best artist in Haddonfield, NJ.
Louis Glanzman Another great NJ artist. Lou painted the first Pippi Longstocking, back in the '50s, and he's also known and painted many of the early jazz pioneers.
Anita Crane Maker of art, teddy bears, lace, and other assorted projects.
Aileen Leijten A woman with a cool accent & a talent for drawing dogs in sneakers.
John Rocco John worked with Whoopie Goldberg. His art is quirky and edgy. I like his wife, too. She's Aileen Leitjen, listed above.
Ken Shane Ken is a great Jersey-based singer/songwriter. We're working on a project together. Ken manages the spectacular band Days Awake. They're going to be the next big thing out of Jersey. Watch out, Bon Jovi. Beware, Bruce. Days Awake are on their way.
John DePaul He's still crazy after all these years. John and I were news writers many years ago, and we've played in bands together.
Donna Upson My song co-writer. The most amazing guitarist in Pa. I met Donna when we played in "Tickled Pink," an all-woman rock band. I thought she was too serious. She thought I was crazy. We ended up liking each other. Donna and I have just been offered our first song publishing contract, for a song called "Empty Chair."
John Morano John writes amazing eco-adventure books. One of his characters is an octopus who speaks in Grateful Dead lyrics.
Mary McIntosh Mary and I became great friends as I was critiquing her memoirs. She lives in Florida, not too far from the Weeki Wachee Mermaids, and she's almost 40 years older than me. She has a ghost in her house. Mary Mac is a fine writer, a good friend, and a tough bird. ("Just shut up and drive," she told me when I visited last March.)
Robert Bender A fabulous artist, The Food Police to Christina, & father of Sophie.
Jen Bryant A great writer and ever-cute.
DyAnne DiSalvo A NJ author/illustrator who plays in the band Smash Palace.
Laurie Halse Anderson A National Book Award nominee! (And to think I knew her when . . .)
David Lubar A great Pa. author & a heck of a funny guy.
Margery Cuyler My very first book editor, and a writer, too. Margery is feisty, funny, and she writes about - HIC - hiccups.
Sara Holbrook One slammin' poet girl.
Neil Waldman Vincent Van Gogh, reincarnated.
Sherry Hoffman Check out Sherry's great program "Get Booked!"
John Bressler I grew up with John. His weird sense of humor must have rubbed off.
Toni Buzzeo The expert in school visits by authors.
Lois Szymanski Check out Lois' amazing project Feather Fund, which assists children in buying Chincoteague ponies! Lois & I like locating Hot Chili Pepper men for our friend MC. We laugh a lot in hotel rooms, brainstorming the most inappropriate children's book ideas on the planet.
Laura Wiess The author of the stunning young adult novel "Such a Pretty Girl." Laura is an amazing writer and human being.
Melissa Wyatt Another great YA author, and my sister in Night Terrors and Loving David Cassidy.
Just Jen She makes the coolest sparkly shirts from real Swarovski crystals.
The Barn Saver My spouse's business. John saves old barns from being bulldozed and landfilled. The entire barn lives on! I even wrote a book about it: "Barn Savers."
Jen Chapin Jen's Dad, the late great Harry Chapin, is my hero. Jen carries on her father's work in the wonderful organization WHY.
Cathy "Boom-Boom" Amerling. I played with Cathy in the all-woman rock band "Tickled Pink." She's a wild woman on the drum kit, and is now offering angelic harp music for events/establishments. Cathy is in love with Harpo Marx, but unfortunately "the only perfect man alive" is dead. Cathy currently plays in the June Bug Band.
Cloud Party My cousin's son Mark plays a kick-butt guitar in this band. His Dad - Johnny Steffy - taught me to play guitar, way back in the 1970s.
George Wildman I grew up reading comic books illustrated by George. He's as cool as Popeye. Here's one of his covers:
Here's an article I wrote about writing:
And an article about growing up in Pennsylvania Dutch Country:
An article published by the SCBWI eastern PA. newsletter:
Writing Quirky
by Linda Oatman High
A reviewer recently wrote that my novels are "delightfully quirky." This came about a week after I received a letter from a 77-year-old man who claims to be a fan of my weekly newspaper column, Jake's View. "Jake is so wonderfully quirky," the man wrote. "You must be a very unusual person. Are you as crazy as Jake?"
Well...this started me thinking: Am I quirky? Am I unusual? Am I crazy? I asked my kids: "Am I quirky?"
Does quirky mean the same as jerky?" Justin replied. "If it does, then you are."
Now, this remark came from the same child who was the only kid in sixth grade not to be shocked by a teacher who suddenly jumped up on a desk and started belting out a Rod Stewart song. "I'm used to grownups who act weird," Justin informed the class. "My Mom does it all the time."
So then I asked J.D.: "Am I quirky?"
"What's quirky?" he asked.
"Crazy," I replied, and he nodded.
"Anybody who would paint Dad's toenails pink while he's sleeping and say that the Easter Bunny did it because he can't tell eggs from toes is crazy," he said. "Strange."
Well, J.D. and Justin are both thirteen years old, and 1 figured puberty is making them sensitive, so I asked Zach. He's only six and I knew he'd tell me the truth. "Is Mommy strange?" I asked, and he smiled.
"You're weird, Mom," Zach said.
"Like when you yell at Amos." Amos is a fifteen-foot-high statue of an Amish man who stands at a restaurant near our house, and I'm prone to shout "I LOVE YOU, AMOS!" out the window as we drive by. That's not being weird--it's just expressing emotion. What's so quirky about that?
Well, since I didn't get any satisfaction from my kids, I looked it up in the dictionary. "Quirk: a peculiarity of action or behavior," said Webster. Okay, maybe I am just a tad bit quirky, I conceded. But where does this come out in my writing? Everywhere, it turned out in a quick skim though my books.
Okay, so my characters are a bit peculiar. They do peculiar things. They're weird. They're strange. They're quirky. And I concluded that quirky characters in quirky situations make for quirky books, written by a quirky writer. But what can you do to learn to write quirky if you're not naturally inclined to weirdness? Here are some quirky tips:
1. Don't censor yourself. Put those first crazy thoughts down on paper, and leave the editing to the editor.
2. Allow your muse to go berserk. Let it be nutty as a fruitcake, silly and goofy, one fry short of a Happy Meal. It's easiest to do this early in the morning and late at night, when the mind is uncluttered with reminders that the world is full of serious, non-singing grownups.
3. Don't think about what the reviewers will say if your book strays from the mainstream. My favorite review of Hound Heaven came from Kirkus, who wrote, "High endows her novel with sneaky, knock-you-over charm." That's not charm; it's quirkiness, Kirkus.
4. Be outrageously gross, shockingly immature, seriously unsophisticated. If you're writing for a twelve-year-old, be a twelve-year-old....My Dad pointed this out to me recently when I was bragging that somebody thought I was a teenager. (I'm 38 going on 13.) "I must look rather young," I gloated, and Dad grumbled, "It's not so much how you look...it's how you act."
5. Study bizarre people you come across in life and use them to create eccentric characters. Dig into your memory--use real people from your past.
6. Don't strive to be politically correct in your writing--just be honest.
7. Write about weird things you do within the privacy of your home and family. Write of quirky things you did as a kid, and forget about the embarrassment. (When I was twelve, my Mom bought me a couple of Sears training bras with blue flowers in the middle. I sheared off all the flowers after my friend told me she could see them through my clothes, and I used that quirky act in Hound Heaven, a few chapters before I had the grandfather wake up with pink toenails.) Write of private, hidden things--like toenails and bras.8. Unleash the quirky person inside you. Jump up on a desk and start singing, yell at a fifteen-foot Amishman, give somebody you love ten pink toenails while he sleeps. Be weird, be crazy, be strange--then write about it. Follow the words Bruce Coville spoke at the 1996 Pocono mountains Writers Retreat (where lots of quirky writers meet) :
Dance like nobody's watching,
Love like you can't be hurt
Sing like nobody's listening,
Live like it's Heaven on Earth.And write like nobody's reading.
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Follow Your Dreams! Be What You Want To Be!!
Love & Peace & Joy & Laughter & Chocolate
From a Toilet-Shoed Girl Who Grew Up (debatable to some)
and Became a Writer:
Linda Louise Haas Oatman High
"Girls Just Wanna Have Fun"
Sometimes you just have to kick off your shoes, put your hair in cornrows, and DANCE!!!
Left to right: Robin, Me, Sharon, Patsy (my cousins & sister-in-law)
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