LAL Announces National Winners in the 2009-2010 Competition

Six Libraries Receive

$10,000 LAL Reading

 Promotion Grants 

     More than 69,000 young readers from across the country participated in this year's LAL writing contest, a reading promotion program of the Center for the Book in the Library of Congress, presented in partnership with Target. The number of participants was substantially higher than last year’s total of 55,000.

Photo: BILL ROTH / Anchorage Daily News

West High junior Anna Wichorek won top prize in the Library of Congress' Center for the Book "Letters about Literature" contest for a letter she wrote to "Two Old Women" author Velma Wallis.

   This year’s winners come from all parts of the country and wrote to authors as diverse as Francisco Jiménez, author of “The Circuit”; Laura Ingalls Wilder, author of the Little House on the Prairie series; and J.D. Salinger, author of “The Catcher in the Rye.”

      The top letters in each competition level for each state were chosen. Then, two National winners were chosen from each of the three competition levels: Level 1 (grades 4-6), Level 2 (grades 7-8) and Level 3 (grades 9-12). National winners each designate a favorite library that they wish to receive a $10,000 grant from Target. The students each receive a $500 Target GiftCard.

     Each national winner nominates a library in his or her community -- either a public library or a school library - to receive the LAL promotion grant.  The LAL sponsors then approves the nominations.

     "This is a powerful way for a young person to give back to their community," says Catherine Gourley, the national director of LAL.  Grant money may be used to materials such as books or periodicals relevant to young readers and/or to support author visits and storytelling.

Twelve libraries will receive $1,000 LAL Reading Promotion Grants

    The four National Honors recipients from each competition level designate a library to receive a $1,000 Target grant; the students each receive a $50 Target GiftCard.        

     On the state level, the program is sponsored by affiliate State Centers for the Book. State and national judges include published authors, editors, publishers, librarians and teachers.

National Winners

National Winning letters are published below. The letters written by the 12 national honors are published under "winning letters" (see menu above.)

Level 1:

Lara Bagdasarian, 5^th grade, UCLA Lab School, Los Angeles, Calif.  She wrote to Francisco Jiménez, author of “The Circuit.”

Reagan Nelson, 6^th grade, Hutton Elementary School, Spokane, Wash. She wrote to Laura Ingalls Wilder, author of the Little House on the Prairie series.

Level 2:

Marissa Meier, 8^th grade, Bios Christian Academy, Gilbert, Ariz. She wrote to John Bibee, author of “The Magic Bicycle.”

Siori Koerner, 8^th grade, Murfreesboro, Tenn. She wrote to J.D. Salinger, author of “The Catcher in the Rye.”

Level 3:

Anna Wichorek, 11th grade. Anchorage, Alaska. She wrote to Velma Wallis, author of “Two Old Women.”

Kaitlyn Krassalt (pictured below), 11th grade, Moscow Senior High School, Moscow, Idaho. She wrote to Dr. Seuss about a variety of his books for children and adults. 

National Honor Winners

Level 1:

Eliana Kahn, Needham, MA. Wrote to Anne Frank, author of The Diary of Anne Frank.

Imani Jackson, Jefferson City, MO. Wrote to Maya Angelou, author of "Phenomenal Woman." 

Davis Klimek, Pepper Pike, OH. Wrote to Carl Hiassen, author of Hoot.

Sydney Hodgin, Westminster, SC. Wrote to Johbn Howard Griffin, author of Black Like Me.

Level 2:

Caroline George, Buxton, Limington, ME. Wrote to Robert Frost, author of the poem, "The Mending Wall."

Daniel Flores, Cushing OK. Wrote to Joseph Bruchac, author of Code Talker.

Thanh Nguyen, Lancaster, PA. Wrote to Barbara Park, author of the Junie B. Jones books.

Stephen Hitchcock, Woodinville, WA. Wrote to Jules Verne, author of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.

Level 3:

Michael Egan, Wilton, CA. Wrote to Neil Gaiman, author of Instructions.

Austin Helmink, Spencer, IA. Wrote to Jeffrey Marx, author of Season of Life.

Amy Grant, Big Lake, MN. Wrote to Slyvia Plath, author of The Bell Jar.

Malli Swamy, Memphis, TN. Wrote to Paulo Coehlo, author of The Alchemist.

National Winners’ Letters

Level 1 National Winner:

Lara Bagdasarian, CA

Dear Francisco Jiménez,

I used to think my dad was too hard on me.  Whatever I did just wasn’t good enough for him.  I had no idea why he was being so critical of me, so I assumed he just didn’t believe in me.  After reading your book, The Circuit, I understand my dad better and what he has been trying to tell me.

My dad is an immigrant just like you.  He came to the U.S. when he was 14 years old.  He spoke broken English, his family had to sleep together in one room, and he had to work to help his family out.  He had to earn everything he got.

My dad chastises me about not taking enough initiative to learn another language.  He says that when he was a kid he had to learn English on his own.  I used to not listen to him, but after I read your book, I started to think about what he said differently.  I thought about when you chose to stay in for recess at school everyday to practice English and when, while you were working in the fields, you looked at your notebook and tried to memorize the English words that you didn’t know.  It must have taken a lot of initiative to do that all by yourself.

My dad also gets upset at me when I start asking for too much.  My dad says that one Christmas he was hoping for a soccer ball.  He got a tennis ball instead, so he used to pretend his tennis ball was a soccer ball.  Your story, The Christmas Gift, made me feel for the first time what it must be like not to get something that you want so badly that you would do anything for it.

My dad makes me do extra work even after I have done all of my homework.  He says working hard is the only way to get far in life.  The Circuit describes the importance of hard work much better than my dad described it.  When you won a prize for your butterfly drawing, it made you feel like you were bursting out of your cocoon and you were flying away on your wings to become noticed.  Before, your classmates had not paid attention to you.  My dad told me that when he had just come to the U.S., he won a math prize.  Now I understand how he must have felt.  I think he is pushing me to work extra hard because he wants me to feel the same way.

Your book made me feel a lot better about my dad.  I am now sure that he cares about me and he is just trying to help me become a better person.  The Circuit has helped me understand my dad and realize his good intentions.  Thank you for sharing your childhood memories with me.

With appreciation,

Lara Bagdasarian

Level 1 National Winner:

Reagan Nelson, WA

Dear Laura Ingalls Wilder,

Change is something many people are afraid of, but I know it can be wonderful.  It is something I have never looked at in the same way since reading your book Little House on the Prairie and meeting Laura.  My house burned down when I was seven, and I almost died in the fire.  Since that night my dad rescued me from my burning bedroom, things were never the same.  People have always described the fire as a great tragedy that hit our family, but I have never viewed it that way.  Like Laura on the prairie, this was a time when I was faced with big changes.  My family had no home to live in and not even our clothes to wear.  But Laura taught me that life’s challenges can be viewed as a great adventure, something to be thankful for even, and this is a view I have chosen to adopt in my own life. 

Laura’s life is full of challenges.  Laura’s family is faced with the move to land that they work hard to settle on, but later learn they have to vacate after all of their hardship and effort.  They are overcome by sickness.  They even lose their dog, Jack.  Laura never lets these events get the better of her.  She feels the sadness and the disappointment but she becomes stronger because of them.  Just last year, my Dad and I were hit by a truck while driving in our car to the garden store.  Our car was wrecked, but we were not hurt badly.  When we had to walk and take the bus everywhere in the snow for four months because we did not have a car, I thought of all the things that happened to the Ingalls family, all of the times they had to move because something was not working.  This gave me a tremendous amount of strength and hope.  Things always got better for the Ingalls, and through it all they had each other just like I have my Mom and Dad.

What Laura taught me most is that I can either be frightened or mad at life, or I can choose to view change as an opportunity to learn some valuable lessons.  One of the most important lessons I learned from Laura and the Ingalls is that the challenges I face have to be greeted with gratitude.  After the car accident when we had to walk everywhere, I started to think how thankful I was that I could walk.  I realized that the car accident could have taken that away from me.  I also realized that everyday, when I walked with my Dad, we spent time together and shared stories that I will always remember.  The fire took our house and all of my clothes and toys away, but I still had my family and my pets, which is everything in the world that mattered to me.  Just like in Little House, when Mr. Edwards brought Laura and Mary Christmas presents through the snow from far away, people were so kind and gave us all sorts of things.  And folks at my school were so generous and caring.  I never knew complete strangers could care like that.  This was a gift.

It doesn’t really matter whether you like change or not, whether you embrace it or run the other way.  It is sometimes wonderful, sometimes disappointing and often frightening, but it is always happening.  Little House showed me that life is nothing but transition, and change is inevitable.  The Ingalls knew this, and your book showed me I can rely as they did, on family, faith and community to get me through.  I have learned that wherever the greatest challenge exists in my life is where the greatest growth is too.  Little House on the Prairie taught me that it isn’t the tough times that define us, but rather our response to the challenges we face which makes us who we are.  And that is the real gift for which I thank you. 

Sincerely,

Reagan Nelson

Level 2 National Winner:

Marisa Meier, AZ

Dear John Bibee,        

Mirrors are strange and powerful. In them, you can notice when something is not quite right, or when you’re at your best. Some mirrors are not made of glass or hanging on walls. These mirrors cannot be looked in. Rather, they appear as a movie, book, or some other thing that somehow mirrors your life. At some point, everyone has an experience with a mirror. This can either help or hurt them, but it will always change their life. Your book, The Magic Bicycle, provided a strange, yet accurate mirror of my brother and I, which showed me how beneficial it is to concentrate on the good, instead of the bad. For a time, even I, a person who is usually cheerful, thought that I would never be able to lead a normal life. Then again, I told myself, miracles can happen. I didn’t have the slightest clue that my little miracle would come in the form of ink on paper, your book in my hand. Admittedly, I’m glad it did.

My brother is different. He is also special, in more ways than one. Being affected with a genetic disorder called Fragile X, my little brother Nathanael is slower than most at reading, writing, and even speaking. Turning nine this February, he is progressing slowly, with little sentences such as “more, please”, or “computer”. Also, his Fragile X requires more attention on our part, to watch, protect, and take care of him. Many times, this has proven much more difficult than it sounds.

Having a sibling with special needs, I found myself strangely mirrored by the protagonist, John. Towards the beginning of the story, when John finds himself stuck with his strange new bike, he was not exactly thrilled. Although I’m ashamed to admit it, I wasn’t thrilled my brother was going to be different either. When John realizes that he’s stuck with his bike, The Spirit Flyer, he begrudgingly takes it out for a spin. It was when his bike first lifts off the ground that he comes to the same realization I had about my brother; he’s not just different, he’s unique, exceptional, and irreplaceable, and my life will never be the same.

Again mirrored by the fictional character John, he and I both experienced a wild range of emotions. John first feels humiliation, when everyone stared at the boy with the crazy bike. This feeling was balanced out by the immense pride he felt when his Spirit Flyer first started flying for him. I, too, have faced humiliation and embarrassment. An example of this would be the many times when we were in a crowded store, and Nate lay kicking and crying on the floor. An abundance of love and pride have managed to burrow their way into my stubborn heart since then; the first time being a couple of months ago, when Nate came to me, and in his own special dialect, he said, “I love my Rissa, I love you sweet heart!” Or another time when I was dressed up to go to a concert, he looked at me and said, “Pretty, Rissa pretty!” These instances made all the worries and hardships completely worthwhile.

Somehow, I have a feeling that, John would agree. I mean, how often do you see a flying bicycle? Just as rare are those diagnosed with the genetic disorder Fragile X. Although first considered “handicaps”, they have brought both of us abounding joy. A single mirror was all that was necessary to see my beautiful little brother in a new light.

Marisa Meier

Level 2 National Winner:

Siori Koener, TN

Dear J.D. Salinger,

I would like to thank you for writing Catcher in the Rye. Where I'm from, people know me as the "weird girl" - I'm not into the latest trends in pop culture, and I'm not bubbly and air-headed; nor am I the dark, angsty teen aged disaster of the cultural norm. I'm different; therefore, I'm strange. I had always thought that I'd be the only one who was peculiar. The thought of being so unusual that it repelled people away from me crawled in the tiny crevices of my mind, sometimes overtaking my head until it threw me into short periods of muted sadness. I had always thought I was the only one who was like this, until I read your book.

From the very first words that were written on the pages, Holden had a certain familiarity about him. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, until I read further in the novel. When he vividly depicted Ackley's facial blemishes, when he described his classmates as "phony", and when he boasted how he was a natural liar; that's when I knew who he was: He was me! He might as well have been my rebellious twin brother with the things he thought, the words he spoke, and the actions he committed. Because of your book, I had not just found a friend I could relate to; I had found my new hero.

While I sank further and further into the deep, dark ocean of text that was Catcher in the Rye, I began to question myself. For example, although Holden describes everyone around him as superficial and fake, he constantly lies to all who talk to him and always thinks foul things while attempting to act like a respectful young man. Therefore, is he not superficial and fake as well? Also, what does that make me? I began to analyze my daily actions and the actions of others as well. I soon realized that it was not only those who were around me that were deceptive and "phony"...I was too. Catcher in the Rye was my wake-up call. It taught me that it's not just everyone around me who is fake: I'm fake too, and the people I talk to must think so as well.

Another lesson that Holden taught me was the lesson of conserving innocence. I'll never forget how he was talking about wanting to be "the catcher in the rye". As I read, I began to think of my little cousin who lives with unpleasant conditions that are quite extreme for a child to go through. When I read about Holden watching Phoebe riding the carousel, I began to wish that my cousin would keep her innocence instead of growing into one of the pig-headed adults that surround her and raise her. Holden's wish to protect the children opened my eyes to the horrors they must go through.

When I finally finished the book, I felt like I had just gotten off a roller coaster ride. My breath was shallow with excitement; my eyes still hungry for more. As I closed the back cover, I realized that your book had taught me so many life lessons that I would never learn in class. Was I suddenly then turned into a wise, sage-like young woman, accepted by my peers? Of course not - influential novel or not, I was, and will always be, the "weird girl". However, your novel taught me that life is going to be hard, and being different will help in learning many of its lessons.

Siori Koerner

Level 3 National Winner:

Anna Wichorek, AK

Dear Velma Wallis,

Last year, my 84-year-old grandfather moved in with our family. Along with my grandfather came a wheelchair, a walker, a box full of medicine, and a long list of emergency phone numbers. My grandfather had just spent the last four months struggling for his life in a hospital room and the effects of pneumonia, heart failure, and septic shock had transformed him into a person I barely recognized. As he entered our home, I stood back and watched his heroic efforts to take a small step and I listened to his humble attempts to utter a simple word. I was overwhelmed with sorrow and hopelessness.

Over the next few weeks, I watched and waited for improvement. I saw none. Instead, I saw my grandfather unable to shower, shave, or dress himself without help from my father or uncles. I saw my grandfather unable to remember what he had eaten, unable to remember my name, and unable to remember when to take his medicines. I kept looking for the grandfather I had once known, but found only a weak, fragile, and confused person. Somewhere between all his therapy appointments and trips to the emergency room, I gave up hope my grandfather would ever return to me. Gradually, it became much easier for me to isolate myself, to totally immerse myself in homework or flute practice rather than face my grandfather.

But then I read Two Old Women, and in Ch’idzigyaak and Sa’, I found the hope and the strength I needed to look at my grandfather and help him make his journey. As I discovered Ch’idzigyaak’s and Sa’s perseverance and determination to survive, I began to regain a sense of hope and possibility when I watched my grandfather’s efforts that I had once considered pointless. I began to respect and admire his determination to remove his own socks at night, to take small steps on his own, to dress himself. I understood that my grandfather, like Ch’idzigyaak and Sa’, wanted to hold his “chin up proudly” just as they had held theirs up when they were abandoned by their tribe and were struggling for survival.

As I read Two Old Women, I realized that, like the tribe that had abandoned Ch’idzigyaak and Sa’ because they had only seen “two weak old women,” I had only seen a weak old man and had abandoned my grandfather. With this realization, I then began to look at my grandfather differently and I began to understand life from his perspective. I felt his humiliation, his frustration, and his wounded pride. When Ch’idzigyaak and Sa’ made the decision, “Let us die trying,” I understood why my grandfather would rather take ten minutes to walk down a hallway than be pushed in a wheelchair. Instead of seeing a stubborn old man when I looked at my grandfather, I saw resilience, determination, and courage.

As I got to know Ch’idzigyaak and Sa’, I began to wonder if my grandfather, like Ch’idzigyaak and Sa’, felt as though he were “condemned to die” and everyone had given up on him. But, Sa’ and Ch’idzigyaak had given me courage to conquer my fears and now, instead of avoiding my grandfather, I began to spend more time with him. Instead of practicing flute with a closed bedroom door, I played music for him to enjoy and watched him smile as his body and mind found relaxation. Instead of reading alone in my bedroom, I began to sit next to my grandfather and read his favorite books to him. I learned to listen long enough to let him speak and I listened long enough to hear stories of his childhood and see him gain strength from those memories. I was no longer afraid of his suffering and I learned to touch him again, to hug him, and to soothe his loneliness and fear. I also learned to accept his limitations and love him regardless of those limitations.

Thank you, Ms. Wallis, for writing Two Old Women and sharing the legend of Ch’idzigyaak and Sa’ with me because without those two incredibly strong women, I would still be inside the walls of my own world trying to escape the suffering of my grandfather. Instead, with these two women, I have been able to face my own fears, make my own journey, and discover in my grandfather a person of incredible resilience and inner strength.

Anna Wichorek

Level 3 National Winner:

Kaitlyn Krasselt, ID

Dear Dr. Seuss,

First off, I would like to say that I have not been traumatized by any specific event, nor am I struggling with self-identification, suffering from a rare disease, dealing with the loss of a close family member, managing dysfunctional family issues, or stressed about fitting in with the stereotypical teenage crowd that roams the halls of every high school in America. I have not yet needed the help of your books to get through an especially rough patch in my life, mostly because I haven’t had any especially rough patches yet. I do, however, pay close attention to current issues and I am very aware of the problems that have created conflict among and within social groups throughout the world. In turn, I also spend a lot of time babysitting young children who have just boarded the Reading Railroad, allowing me to revisit the same books I enjoyed at their age.

Having become accustomed to books that lack pictures and require an analytical search for a deeper meaning hidden by the author, it is refreshing to step back into the shoes of my six-year-old self. I thoroughly enjoy returning to the worlds of the Sneetches, the Whos, and Cats in the Hats that made their way into my imagination with their tongue twisting dialogue and fascinating adventures. I have often wondered, since reading such stories, if our world is, in fact, a tiny speck on a clover just waiting to be protected by a fun-loving elephant named Horton.

I have waited on a rainy day for a cat in a striped red-and-white hat to waltz into my living room and sweep me off my feet, searched for a Wocket in my pocket, and tried with all my might to read with my eyes shut. It was not until I reentered the colorful universes created between the covers of your books that taught me how to sound out my vowels and string together consonants that I realized these stories were more than just fun. To be completely honest, I was shocked to discover that the stories I loved dealt with such real world issues as racism and social status. I had always thought of the thin books on the shelf as silly stories meant to teach kids the basics of the English language and instill such morals as sharing, saying please and thank you, and always being nice to others.

Upon further inspection, it became evident to me that such stories were not only meant as a lesson for the children learning to mind their p’s and q’s, but also a wake up call for the observant adults in charge of insuring their children’s education. The star-bellied sneetches were no different than the plain-bellied sneetches, despite the advice of Sylvester McMonkey McBean. The sneetches got so mixed up in their star-swapping that they could no longer remember who was supposed to better than the other. The Whos, who were so small they would barely be heard, were forced to join together just to fight for their cause—and the smallest Who, of course, made the biggest difference of all. It was the smallest who had the loudest voice, allowing their speck to be heard by Horton’s doubters and saved from a terrible fate. 

I was thrilled to uncover such morals, even though they had always been there, unhidden and as obvious as the manners-based morals I had once assumed to be the only message on the page. The blatant reminders that our society is not the center of the universe, which are only subtle to the unassuming beginning reader, were inspiring to be found in such a format. Because of your stories, I was motivated to voice my opinions in essay contests, such as the Veterans of Foreign Wars: Voice of Democracy contest in which I received the second place prize. As the daughter of a police officer, it was evident to me that they were not getting the recognition they deserved as veterans of very similar situations to those faced by other military branches. I felt the contest was a prime outlet for my opinion. I have also been able to use my newfound voice in articles I have written for local newspapers. It has become apparent to me that sometimes our method for letting our voice be heard is not always practical, but is always possible.

You have proven again and again that no matter what our message is, and no matter what our means of displaying our cause, it is always possible to let the world know how we feel, despite how small we think our voice may be. Upon rediscovering your stories, which have always remained close to my heart simply because of their sentimental value, I was reminded of my voice and its possible impact in the world today. Thank you.

Kaitlyn Krasselt

What We Do

The Center for the Book in the Library of Congress, in cooperation with affiliate state centers for the book and in partnership with Target Stores, invites readers in grades 4 through 12 to enter Letters About Literature, a national reading-writing contest.

To enter, readers write a personal letter to an author, living or dead, from any genre--fiction, nonfiction, or poetry, contemporary or classic--explaining how that author's work changed the student's way of thinking about the world or themselves.

There are three competition levels:

• Level I for children in grades 4 through 6;
  

• Level II for grades 7 and 8, 

• Level III, grades 9 - 12. 

State winners, announced in March each year, receive cash awards. National winners, announce in late April, receive additional prizes and earn for their school or community library LAL Reading Promotion Grants valued at thousands of dollars!

LAL focuses on reader response and reflective writing. We provide free teaching materials, including lesson plans, writing samples, assessment checklists, and teacher tips--all downloadable through this site.

PROFESSIONAL DEVELOPMENT WORKSHOPS FOR TEACHERS, LITERACY COACHES, & LIBARIANS

Interested in your school district/library hosting a professional development workshop on Reader Response and Reflective Writing? Contact LAL national project director Catherine Gourley for more information at 570-675-3305 or via email at lal@epix.net.

LAL supports educational standards established for reading and language arts as recommended by the International Reading Association and the National Council for the Teaching of English.

SAVE THE DATE!

DECEMBER 10, 2010

IS THE DEADLINE FOR THE 2010-2011  LAL COMPETITION! 

The new how-to-enter guidelines and required entry coupon are now available - just click on "how to enter" above!

“In any group of children we find that if they begin by sharing their most obvious observations they soon accumulate a body of understanding that reveals the heart of a text and its meaning(s) for them all.” 

--Aidan Chambers, Tell Me: Children, Reading, and Talk  

Talking about books is step one in the LAL reader response teaching strategy. To learn more about reader response and "tell me" type questions, please click on Lesson Plans on the menu above!

TEACHERS NOTE:

We love (and need) your feedback! Take a few minutes to complete our Teacher Post Program Survey and send it to us to ensure LAL continues to meet your classroom needs. Click on the link above!

What Teachers Are Telling Us

LAL challenges young readers to write a personal letter of reflection to an author whose work somehow inspired them or changed their view of the world or themselves.

Throughout the entire year we work on making personal connections to various texts, but making a personal connection to an author, another human being rather than an impersonal "text," really created the additional level of depth that was missing in some of their other writing.

 --Keith Sanzen, Scituate MS, Rhode Island

When your contest came across my desk, I thought, "Not another contest!' I then read the description and discovered its true worth. here was not a contest seeking to glorify an institution as is too often the case. Here is a contest that asks my students to connect to literature, tell how it has affect them Within a week, I ahd them discussing poems and children's books along with some of the great YA literature out there.

--Tim Chaffee, Cisne High School, IL

Without the impetus of the LAL program, I probably wouldn't ask my students to reflect on the texts they read in such a personal manner. I'd prep them for their standardized testing, and be sure they could defend interpretations of literature using appropriate rhetorical strategies, and I might have a class of brilliant academic writers. What the LAL program does for my students is remind them that literature is, at its heart, an expression of the human condition, frequently an expression of things they may be feeling or have already felt.

-- Pat Marshall, PORTA HS, Petersburg, IL

But what is reflective writing

and how do you do it?

Reflective writing is when an individual looks back at a past experience or period of time and thinks about the meaning and significance of that experience or time. Reflection is personal. It is insightful.

Think of a mirror.  When you look into a mirror, what do you see?  Not just your own image but also the space around you and behind you.  That's kind of what you do when you write a reflective letter to an author. The author's work - the book - is the mirror. The letter you write should capture the image in the mirror - a little bit about yourself and your world, how you saw yourself reflected in the book.

Heere's the really interesting thing--no two readers quite see the same reflection in an author's work!

Reflective writing is NOT a book report.  It is not a fan letter or a how-to-do process report.  It is not a persuasive argument nor is it a literary analysis.  Rather, reflective writing is personal.  It is insightful.  It is an expression of your memories or your emotions or your ideas. The author just helped you to discover those things about yourself.

At first, we got off to a rocky start. I have focused so heavily on effective academic writing that the first drafts presented very 'well-supported' recounts of the books' plots and characters. While this proved to me that my lessons about textual support have hit home, I knew these were not the type of inspirational anecdotes LAL was seeking.

We went back to the drawing board. And then we went back again and again. The revision process was maximized here.  --Gillian Freebody, Pequannock Valley, NJ

. . . A 'letter' written on paper is a completely foreign entity. It is neither a text nor a tweet. It is permanent. It is real. It will be read, reread, and treasured.  --Kitty Drew, The Walker School, GA