A likely place for an answer to this question seemed to be in those things promised us in the past that were supposed to change our lives. A web search turned up a reprint of a 1950 article entitled “Miracles You’ll See in the Next Fifty Years.” Although yards and grass were not mentioned, ordinary activities of human life in AD 2000 were discussed. The article said there would be no “dishwashers” because dishes would be made of dissoluble plastic that would melt down the drain when heated to 250 degrees. To clean the house one would simply “turn the hose on everything” because the furniture, rugs, draperies, and floors would be made of plastic. Thanks to an “electronic stove” that would turn “frozen bricks” of food into meals, the art of cooking would become a “memory in the minds of old people.” Industrial production would be so automated that only a few “trouble shooters” would watch the factories to keep things running. In short, the view of the future in 1950 was one of efficiency, where ordinary human tasks would be automated, simplified, or done away with entirely.

I found it strange that there is no mention of what humans were supposed to do with the time that had been freed up by these “miracles.” One possible answer to this question can be found in current economic reports. U.S. worker productivity has surged in the second quarter of this year at more than twice the first quarter rate. Despite dramatically improved technology, Americans work more than ever. At least those who still have jobs work more than ever. We now take work home to do during the evening and on weekends. In this relentless busyness we have lost the rhythm between work and, as the Buddhists refer to it, a place within the self of absolute calm – the True Self.

As he comes back in the house, my husband looks tranquil. I am not sure whether this tranquility comes from the meditation involved in mowing, or as a side product of physical activity. Perhaps mowing is merely a suburban form of meditation. The sound of the lawn mower drowns out the ringing of phones, the need to converse, and insulates people at least temporarily from all the problems associated with that other self so preoccupied with the struggles of a normal life. Ordinary tasks have always provided the opportunity to make our minds quiet enough to see our lives more clearly and reevaluate our goals.

Learning is also an ordinary task that helps us see our lives and the world around us more clearly, and to reevaluate things. This is why institutions of learning and research traditionally provide calm environments. The future predicted 150 years ago for Washington University might have included such “miracles” as air-conditioned classrooms and electronic projectors. We can hardly guess what “miracles” await students 150 years from now. The one thing that we can know is that those who walked the halls of this place in the past would have wanted the ordinary tasks involved in teaching and learning to remain. Despite the annual rush of new students, the teaching and publishing demands on faculty, and the “miracles’ that make us more efficient, we should remember that the role of the university is to provide a place of calm where we can examine our lives, learn what others have learned, and evaluate the world around us. After too short a time, we graduate and are swept up in a world of productivity where saving time sometimes means having more time to work harder. If only all our efforts at being so efficient allowed us the opportunity to make our minds quiet, to see our lives more clearly, and to learn. Perhaps one way to help create this change would be for a Washington University biologist to produce a genetically engineered strain of grass that grows only two inches tall.

Jian Leng, Assistant Director
Center for the Humanities

Whether you write or paint, the toughest part of creating is the isolation. You have to be alone to create but where do you go when you have a question? If you want to create children's literature, the place to turn is the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators, SCBWI for short. SCBWI sports 18,000 members worldwide with some 270 in Missouri alone.

Missouri's SCBWI volunteers dedicate themselves to giving writers and illustrators a chance to interact in the name of education. Need to find out if your manuscript works, or does the last scene fall flat? Attend a critique group and gather valuable feedback. You'll find the critique groups are a great place to gather market news as well as get tips on doing your next book signing or school visit.

But what if you need help with a craft-related specific? Are your characters dull? Are your plots ho-hum and lifeless? Then look into one of the many opportunities the Missouri region offers to perfect your work. The least formal of these are the aptly named casual meetings. At these meetings, we gather together to discuss a pre-arranged topic. To date, we've covered what is selling at local bookstores, how to write a query letter, and how to critique a manuscript.

Another opportunity to learn comes every November with the annual Missouri conference. For this event, we bring in an editor who shares what they seek in a submission, what they expect from a revision and so much more. This year, Krista Marino, a Random House editor, will speak with author Lisa Wheeler about the evolution of Lisa's picture book, Avalanche Annie, from rejected manuscript to book in print. Writers, illustrators, and other professionals working in the field fill out the conference faculty and this year, in addition to picture book author Lisa Wheeler, they include novelist Kristin Wolden Nitz, author/illustrator Sandra Ure Griffin and Keith Pickler, computer pre-press specialist at Quest Graphics. Up to 100 people attend this event and draw on the knowledge and experience of the presenters, taking notes and asking questions.

For all they offer, conference sessions aren't in depth enough for some issues. To provide a deeper concentration on craft, Missouri SCBWI offers an annual spring workshop. At the workshop you will have the opportunity to concentrate on developing a specific skill. Previous workshops have allowed participants to create poetry, sharpen dialogue, look for take-away values, and make dummy picture book manuscripts.

The best way to receive in-depth tutorial in creating children's literature however is the annual Missouri Mentorship Program. Through this program, one Missouri author and one Missouri illustrator make themselves available to work with someone for the course of one year, helping them to create the highest quality, most professional work they are capable of producing. The winner of the 2004 Illustrator's Mentorship will have the opportunity to work with author/illustrator Cheryl Harness while the winner of the 2004 Writer's Mentorship will work with picture book author Jeanie Ransom.

To keep track of all of this activity, Missouri SCBWI also has a web site: www.geocities.com/scbwimo. Stop by to find out about all of the above, the newsletter, various member web sites and much, much more.
Sound like a lot? It is, but there are similar events and activities held in regions across the country and throughout the world. There's no reason to remain more isolated than you need to be in order to create.

Sue Bradford Edwards is the SCBWI Missouri Regional Advisor. Her work regularly appears in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch books section, Children's Writer newsletter and the Children's Writer's and Illustrator's Market. For more information on SCBWI in general, visit www.scbwi.org. For more on SCBWI in Missouri, visit www.geocities.com/scbwimo.

Terry Teachout is the music critic of Commentary, the drama critic of The Wall Street Journal, and a contributor to The Washington Post, for which he writes “Second City,” a column about the arts in New York City. His books include The Skeptic: A Life of H. L. Mencken (2002, HarperCollins) and A Terry Teachout Reader, forthcoming next spring from Yale University Press. He also writes about art, books, and music for The Wall Street Journal, jazz, dance, and television for The New York Times, books for The New York Times Book Review, The Baltimore Sun, and National Review, and film for Crisis.

Born in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, in 1956, Teachout lived in Kansas City from 1975 to 1983, working as a jazz bassist and as a music critic for the Kansas City Star. He was an editor of Harper’s Magazine from 1985 to 1987, an editorial writer for The New York Daily News from 1987 to 1993, and the News’s classical music and dance critic from 1993 to 2000. He currently lives in New York City.

Terry Teachout will read from his work on Monday, October 13 at 8 pm in Room 204 of Washington University Law School’s Anheuser-Busch Hall. He will give a seminar with time for audience questions on Tuesday afternoon, October 14, at 4 pm at McMillan Café in Old McMillan Hall. A reception and book signing will follow both events, which are free and open to the public.

Busch Hall is located at the intersection of Snow Way and Throop drive, just east of Big Bend Boulevard. Old McMillan Hall is located a short walk east of Busch Hall. Free parking will be available in the lowest level of the Millbrook garage for each event. For more information call (314) 935-5576.