Patricia Polacco did a presentation today at the Storyteller, the local children's bookstore in town. I just love this store; they have all these wonderful children's books and for YA readers too. Two years ago when my character had to get a job, she got a job at a children's bookstore called Ole Golly's, which I based on the Storyteller. I still can't believe I live now ten minutes away from the store.

I cried during the presentation because of what Ms. Polacco said about the No Child Left Behind Act. I don't want to get too political on this blog, but let's just say this: Back in '96, I had a "Dole for Pineapple" magnet on my fridge. So this is a good sign of where I am politically.

Anyway, apparently kids who are dyslexic, dysgraphic, name a dys, and they have to do those damned standardized tests mandated by NCLBA. What the hell? As a person who has learning disabilities, I have no idea how I would've survived those tests. I was lucky enough to pass my reading and writing tests to graduate high school, but I struggled with the math. What scares me is that kids are getting lost in the cracks. Are you listening, Mr. President? Because boy, those kids are getting left behind for generations to come. And we are going to pay for it.

Okay, rant over.

She was just a lovely woman. And there were so many kids there, and they asked questions like: "How long does it take to make a book?" "What's your favorite book?" One child asked "Why are you fat?" The mother looked like she was going to just crawl off somewhere when her child asked that.

To read more about Patricia Polacco, I recommend Thank You, Mr. Falker. It's a valentine to teachers.

http://www.patriciapolacco.com/books/falker/falker_index.html

Brenda Dickson

All right, I'm irritated. I made my first post today and somehow it got zapped. It's toast. It wasn't anything too important, however. Mostly that Chris Sligh should get a sitcom now that he's not on American Idol anymore. And that although I don't live in Pleasant Hill, California anymore, I always consider myself a Pleasant Hill girl, hence the title of the blog.

But don't you hate that when it happens?

I'll write more later. In the meantime, enjoy Ms. Brenda Dickson, circa 1987.