www.debbierigaud.com

Hey, people! I’m off to NYC for BEA. I’ll be moderating the African-American Program panel “Using Social Networking to Promote Your Book” this Thursday at BEA. Here are the deets:

2:15PM
Room 1A07
Workshop: "Using Social Networking to Promote and Sell Books: Face Book, Blogs and Twitter"
Panelists: Carleen Brice, One World/Ballantine "Children of the Waters" "Orange Mint and Honey"; Abiola Abrams, Pocket Books/Simon and Schuster "Dare"; Felicia Pride, Running Press "The Message: 100 Life Lesson from Hip-Hop’s Greatest Songs"; Daaimah Poole, Kensington/Dafina "Somebody Else’s Man"  Moderator: Debbie Rigaud "Perfect Shot"/Simon & Schuster

If you’re in town or are already planning to attend, stop by, stay a while, and say hello. And check out the other panels lined up this week.

Like I mentioned months ago, Philly is vibin’. I’m feelin’ Philly’all. My honey and I recently got back from the City of Sisterly Love (that sistah, of course, being Jill Scott). On this trip, we had a bit more time to hit the streets and check out a few neighborhoods I hadn’t visited before. We were in town for the hubby’s school reunion. It was fun meeting his former classmates and hearing updates on how everyone is doing now. (One of his former classmates is now one of the city’s Assistant DAs! And she’s Latina! I’m very proud.)

While zipping in and out of novelty ships along South Street (secretly hoping to bump into Fly Girl herself), a few boutiques caught my attention. Namely, the totally cool vintage shop Retrospect….

…where I met future YA author Emily (right), donning a cute little classic number. Thanks, Emily for posing for this kooky stranger’s photo. Side note: Emily just graduated with a degree in journalism, and she’s a lover of teen mags and YA lit, so her future is as bright as her funky frock.

The next time you’re on South Street, also check out Eye’s Gallery. There’s three levels wall-to-wall folk art, cultural threads, jewelry and everything in between.

And then it was off for a stroll through Society Hill neighborhood. How lovely to be under a canopy of trees in the middle of the city.

We stumbled on a significant historical location. As a writer, the Thomas Paine “Common Sense” moment in history always interested me.

I took this parting shot (below) early in the morning as we started our journey to Newark Airport. It was a nice note to end on.

As promised, here’s the second batch of essays from my creative writing workshop with Warwick Academy middle grade students. Enjoy!

Dance

My heart raced as I watched the dancers on the stage finish their last step. I quickly glanced down to check that my pink shiny ribbons of my pointe shoes were neatly wrapped around my ankles and tucked in. Suddenly, the stage went black and the lights were off, signaling the next dancers to enter. At that moment, I froze. Thankfully my friend Rebecca nudged me out of the wing on to the almost full stage. I stumbled into my spot, front and centre, not helping the nervousness. Slowly, the bright lights faded on, putting me in the spotlight as the music began.  –Alida, 12

“Dancing Is My Life”

I walked in a room full of mirrors and bars. I was nervous as I put on my point shoe. It is pink and hard at the toes. I wrapped the pink ribbon around my calf . All of my classmates started arriving. Soon, my class started. I looked in one of the mirrors and saw lots of kids around my age in black leotards and pink tights and hair in buns. The music started as i held lightly to the cold wooden bar. my teacher started some exercises.  –Brittany, 12

Football (in american: soccer)

There I was just about to take the free kick. Everyone was looking at me and the pressure was all on me. It was so silent and all of these thoughts were going through my head. Why did I have to take the free kick? Why couldn’t Molly take it? She is way better at free kicks than me. Okay! Stop it; just do it and then it will be over. but on the other hand, I really need to concentrate. I saw the goalie just staring at me and waiting for me just to kick the ball.  —Jessica, 12

I stand there nervously. No telling what the outcome of the game will be. I hear the ref stand there and blow the whistle to start the second half of the game. I ready myself to receive the ball in mid-field. The crowd cheers roaring louder than ever. I eye the other team giving them a look of aggression. Hope and willingness to win the game. The smell of the sweat on the girl marking my every move. The taste of absolutely nothing but my dry mouth. Thirty seconds left and my team scores making the score 1-0. Ten seconds left…5…4…3..2..1. The ref blows the whistle. We did it. A sigh of relief comforts me as I celebrate with my team. I Sideya have won.     —Sideya

Writing Crime Mysteries (warning: Rated B for bone-chilling)

The girl lay in the water, motionless. Her eyes gazed upwards, unseeing. Her T-shirt was red, but not by design. The harpoon stuck out of her chest and her chestnut hair lay in a mangled heap around her head. The water was stained red around her. The wake from the fleeing boat was still evident.  –Jesse, 11

Last week I had the pleasure of leading two creative writing workshops at Warwick Academy here in Bermuda. The topic was “Working Fact into Fiction,” underscoring that fiction can be both imaginative and informative. I asked the students to use first-person research (i.e., memory/experience) to craft a story about their favorite hobby They were encouraged to incorporate as many as the five human senses as possible. In just 15 minutes of writing, the students came up with some awesome stuff. I was totally blown away and inspired by their work. Here’s the first batch of stories, categorized by hobbies. Look out for the second batch of essays, to be posted next week.

Hobby: Reading

“A New Book”

I walked down the aisle that I always seem to go down. I scanned the neatly arranged books, searching for it. And then, right in the middle of the bookcase, was the one I was searching for. It was a brand new book, and the one I have been waiting for. I slipped the book out of its snug spot and walked to the reading tables. As I sat down, I felt myself getting excited. The book had the new book smell that I love. Not many people understand this, but I think it is understandable to love the smell. I fingered the crisp new pages, cherishing how it felt. I went back to the beginning and started reading. I was then sucked into the story and I loved what it told me. I was just about on the tenth page when I heard the bell. Time to go. I slowly got up and walked to the librarian. I just can’t live without knowing the end of the book.  –Sierra, 13

Hobby: Horseback Riding

“Horseriding”

I stood beside my instructor as I sat on top of Spirit, my horse. It was the CEA, one of the biggest competitions in Bermuda, and I was representing our country—so there was a lot of pressure. We were reciting my course for the last time because I was the next one in. They called my name and cantered in. I managed to block everyone’s noise out and focus on what I had to do. the only thing that I could hear  faintly in the background were the other horses’ hooves thumping against the ground. All of a sudden, they blew the whistle and I flew to my first jump, only to find that I had 10 more to go. Spirit and I were flying over every single jump and when we were finished, I looked around and noticed everything.  –Riley, 12

Hobby: Fishing

Martin sighed as he strolled down the old dirt road that wound its way through the autumn forest to his favorite fishing spot, Lake Shiry. The spicy scent of the pines tickled his nose and his old worn tackle box bumped against his leg. The fading sun illuminated his way with tones of gold and red. He found himself contemplating his surroundings. He had always loved autumn—he loved the cool, soothing air and the crunching leaves underfoot. He suddenly spied the old tree stump that marked his turn. The clear water of Lake Shiry presented itself painted in fiery colours by the setting sun. He perched on the ground and cast his line deep into the water. He loved this spot.             —Russell, 13

Hobby: Drawing

A breeze wafted through the open window, brining dry leaves with it. Holly frowned at her desk. This character was not cooperating with her. Each time she tried to give her any clothes or hairstyles, it seemed the paper rejected it! The character’s half finished smile seemed to smirk scornfully at her. Gritting her teeth, Holly reviewed what she knew about the character she was trying to create. Her name was Natalie, she loved to sing, she danced, and she could hear people’s thoughts. Holly tried again, giving her a stripy turtleneck, jeans, mid-calf leg warmers and a shoulder bag. This time the character seemed to accept the  composition, right down to the green eyes and the spray of freckles across her face. Finally!  —dark-inkchild, 13 1/2

As I shaped the skirt, I remembered what my mom told me: “Always make things to the right portion.” It comes in handy having a mother as a fashion designer. I noticed how overly concentrated I was, lightly gliding my pencil across the paper. I found it soothing, the sound of the pencil scratching against the paper. ‘This is it,’ I told myself. ‘This is the one that has  to get me into the fashion business.’ Colour. A major ingredient in the recipe for fashion. Black tights, pink shirt, orange shirt. ‘No, that’s won’t work.’ blue tights, grey skirt, white shirt. ‘Yeah, yeah—that’s it.’   –Janaya, 11