Monarch Madness: Attracting & Raising Butterflies in Your Yard

If you buy milkweed, butterflies will come.

In droves. Or a flutter. {A group of monarchs is called a flutter. A group of butterflies can be called a swarm, flight, rabble, or my fav a kaleidoscope.}

Back in March, I innocently bought two milkweed (a.k.a. butterfly weed) plants at our favorite annual garden show. Why not? I like butterflies. Not only did the plants have cheerful yellow and orange flowers, they seemed like something I wouldn't immediately kill. Butterflies showed up immediately, and I patted myself on the back.

On Father's Day, I noticed the plants looked scraggly and bare. Upon closer investigation, I discovered why.

They were infested covered in Monarch caterpillars. 

I counted at least twenty brightly striped critters devouring our plants. Within a day, the two plants were stripped to their stems. Holy hungry caterpillars! Eric Carle knew what he was talking about. Not wanting our newest family members to starve, I hunted down more more milkweed for our very hungry caterpillars to munch. These rapidly growing little guys are extremely finicky—they ONLY eat milkweed. Luckily, our local Lowe's had some in stock.

Quite by surprise, we had our own summer biology class. Not bad for a slacker parent who planned no educational enrichment for the summer. 

We researched how to keep our new pets alive. A few years back, my kiddo received a butterfly cage from Santa. I dug it out, dusted it off, carefully added a few of the largest caterpillars. He'd been begging me to order some online. It couldn't get any more natural (or cheap) then just plucking them from the yard, right? 

Mama Monarch lay her eggs (estimated 100 - 300 in her short lifetime)  on the milkweed plants yard.







 
 

When the eggs hatch in 3 - 4 days, the itsy-bitsy caterpillars (larvae) are only about 2-6 mm. 



Then they start eating. 

And eating.

And eating.

{and pooping, as you will discover, if you raise them in a cage}



After approx. 10 - 14 days, they reach the size of their final shed {about 2 inches}.  


 


They attach themselves to a stem or a leaf {or the top of the cage} with silk and start metamorphosis. After hanging upside down for a day or so, they shed their caterpillar skin to reveal a green cocoon. It happens in about a  minute —amazing!

   



Seven days later (although all the research says it takes 10-14 days) our butterflies emerge from their cocoons. You have to be quick if you want to catch it—the ones we watched this morning popped out in less than a minute.  The new butterflies unfurl their and dry their wings. 

The first beauty to hatch didn't want to fly away. We coaxed her onto flowers, tempted her with nectar and blooms, but she wouldn't take to the air. After careful inspection, I noticed she had a broken wing. 

Guess she will be spending her short life cycle with us.

We'll be kind.  

Want Monarchs in your yard?  In most areas, they follow a distinct migration pattern. Here in Florida, they seem to be around for a large chunk of the year, possibly even overwintering in some locals. 

Before the migration hits your area, BUY MILKWEED. These beauties are desperate for it. The caterpillars only eat milkweed, so if the female can't find any, she won't lay her eggs.

See—this guy was so enamored by it, he went after the flowers on the plant tag.

Too many Monarchs fell in love with our tiny milkweed patch. We don't have enough plants to sustain all the caterpillars. I've already started milkweed seeds in pots, and I'm going to plant it all around the yard.

This time next year, I will oversee a mammoth butterfly colony.

Save the Monarchs. Buy some milkweed. Your kids will think you're a hero. So will I.


For more information on how to raise butterflies, click here.  I followed the guide provided by My Monarch Guide. She even includes the simple household items you can use to create a Monarch habitat. It's easy. You can do it. The Monarchs & your kids will thank you.

Should Authors Write Book Reviews or Stick with Book Promotion?

Last week, Kirsten Lamb (leader of the #WANA Writer's Tribe and author of  #1 best-selling books We Are Not Alone—The Writer’s Guide to Social Media and Are You There, Blog? It’s Me, Writer) stirred up some controversy in the writer-sphere. Her blog, a wealth of writerly words of wisdom, is one of the first I read daily (and if your a writer, you should read it, too). Like most of her readers, I'm an aspiring novelist, and her post made me wonder if by posting book reviews I've written myself into a corner.

 The Three NEVERs of Social Media (for writers) via Kristen Lamb

1. Never be nasty in a blog comment.  Agree. Unless the blogger is an ass-hat writing about raping and pillaging as a hobby or something else ridiculously offensive.

2. Never be nasty on twitter. Yes. Though I'd never intentionally be nasty to another tweeter, I should cut down my snarky commentaries about celebs and politicians (unless they fall into the "fair game" category). Maybe even then.

3. Never write a bad book review.  Yeah, but...  What constitutes a "bad" review?

"This doesn’t apply to book bloggers and book reviewers. That’s your job and we love that you give us guidance on what to read. But, as authors? I believe in what Candace Havens calls Writer Karma. If I can’t give a book a five-star rave review? I just don’t review it. Again, publishing is a small world and we all need each other. The world is already out to throw us under a bus. We need each other to keep from turning into cutters."

What if someone is a book blogger AND an aspiring author? 

How many books truly worthy of a five-star review are out there? Reviewers seem to base their star ratings on a sliding scale. Some dole out stars like cheap Halloween candy, whereas I hoard my fives. In my imagined ratings scale, a three-star is book good, not amazing, but decent read if you happen upon it. A four-star is excellent, a book I recommend. A five-star is blow-me-out-of-my-chair, go buy this in hardback NOW, then pass it along to all of your friends and family.

I read many good books, even more excellent novels I'd wholeheartedly recommend for others read, but very few works that take my breath away.

So, should I only review those few? Are my expectations too high?  Should I revise my ratings scale? Or is that shifting from a review to book promotion? 

On my blog, I refuse to give star ratings. I prefer to discuss what I loved about the book. By highlighting the positives—the way the author wove subplots, developed character, or uniquely captured ideas that resonate— potential readers can decide if this book is for them. Most books I review are character, not plot driven, and sometimes I explain what drove me nuts about a particular character. But nicely. Subjectively. It's just my opinion. And infuriating characters are often a part of a damn good (four or five-star) novel. Anyone who's a member of a book club knows how amazing books often open our minds to different ideas and occasionally heated debate. Passion leaves an impression.

In the comments of Kristen's follow-up post Should Authors Write Bad Book Reviews many commentators discussed correcting grammar and critiquing technical issues "so the author could learn from their mistakes."  Whoa. Stop the presses. Publishing critiques?

A BOOK REVIEW and a BOOK CRITIQUE are not synonymous.

A CRITIQUE should be done before a book is published, in private, so the author may find issues within a manuscript before publication. Here's where one can point out homophones and misplaces commas, plot holes or factual errors. It can also be used in the classroom (and many English Lit majors spent years dissecting everything from Shakespeare to Shel Silverstein). Trust me. My work in progress is in the process of being critiqued shredded so I can piece it back together. I invite knowledgeable readers/writers to constructively dissect it so it can improve. Without claws and in private, please.

Reading through her post's comments I was shocked how many writer/readers have sent emails to authors gigging them on grammar. I could never EVER imagine sending an author a note of criticism, constructive or not, about what I disliked about their published work. Some authors wrote how this skewed their heart. Others said they appreciated the constructive criticism.

A BOOK REVIEW is an impartial commentary, written so that others can decide if they would like to read the book. Reviews should be written from a reader's POV, not a writer's. It should be helpful, mentioning a plot summary and character sketches. It should discuss setting, themes, readability, and memorable scenes. It should explain who the book would appeal to and why. It can discuss issues that might have rubbed the reviewer the wrong way. But it should be cruelty-free.

And it should be honest. If a reviewer gushes about every single book, their credibility evaporates.

The Book PROMOTER vs. REVIEWER

Some book blogs and reviewers primarily promote books. Now, in today's world where authors (even traditionally published) are often responsible for 100% of their own book promotion, they NEED people to write about their books. If no one is reviewing them, posting about them, or singing their praises over their social media networks, no one will know their baby is "out there" in the seemingly infinite book market. But a book promotion post is often not a review—it may be a summary, book blurbs, author Q&A, or funny antidote. Many times, the blogger may not have even read the book. And it's overwhelmingly positive. That's all good, so long as readers understand it for what it is.

Again, authors desperately need straight book promotion. And they need reviews, good reviews, with at least four to five stars to get anywhere with Amazon's ever-fluctuating algorithms. Reviews help sell books. Writer's need to eat.

And maybe, in this touchy world of book reviews, Kristen is suggesting authors (published & non-published) become more promoters than reviewers?  Writers have vast and enduring memories. Friends can be hard to come by, and enemies hard to shake. So why make any? We're all in this together, right?

Then there's the whole issue with karma...

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Kristen spurned so much discussion with these posts, she kept the dialog open with a third installment, Is It FAIR for Authors to Review Other Authors? Do We Ruin the Magic?  If you're a writer or a book reviewer, these posts and their comments (each as over a hundred) will get you thinking. Even though I didn't agree with the whole "Only Five-Star" bit in the first of the series, I loved the dialog these posts stirred up.

I won't be writing any more negative reviews. (I think I've only written one, as I had to express my disbelief about the Fifty Shades phenomena. Oh wait—I didn't care for Rowling's The Casual Vacancy either. Both authors made enough moula that I don't believe my rant hurt their sales much.)  I've received many books from publishers which I've declined to review. If I couldn't say anything nice, I chose to say nothing at all.  But I think I must review more than just the lofty five-star works. There are too many authors out there who deserve praise and publicity ... and hopefully a few more sales.

What do you want to learn from a book review?

Should authors review books?


Do you write reviews or base you book buying on reviews? 



photo credit: orangeacid via photopin cc

Review: The Mermaid of Brooklyn by Amy Shearn

"For a woman in my state, a free afternoon was a dangerous proposition."

Jenny Lipkin is an average, stretched-too-thin Brooklyn mom, tackling the challenges of raising two children in a cramped Park Slope walk-up and bonding with other moms about breast-feeding while spending endless hours in Prospect Park. All she really wants is to survive the sweltering New York summer with a shred of sanity intact. But when her husband, Harry, a compulsive gambler, vanishes one evening without a word, Jenny finally reaches her breaking point. And in a moment of despair, a split second decision changes her life forever. Pulled from the brink by an unexpected (and, as it turns out, sometimes annoying) supernatural ally, Jenny is forced to rethink her ideas about success, motherhood, romance, and relationships. Confronting her inner demons—of both the mermaid and non-mermaid variety—is no easy task, and eventually Jenny has to come to terms with who she truly is, for better or worse.

                                                               ~~from The Mermaid of Brooklyn reading guide

I loved this book, even though it drove me nuts sometimes. 

Shearn perfectly captures the endless doldrums of parenthood: those days when a mother can be stretched to the breaking point by the self-perpetuating demands of society and by the episodic little terrorists of our her creation. How a mother can completely loose herself as her mind withers and she can't even pick up Cheerios from the floor or comprehend how they keep ending up there. How she can love her kids, yet sometimes be afraid of who they may be.

Everything in the story happened to Jenny. She let herself fall into this pit of despair, in a way not taking any responsibility for how she fell into this pit (and later "fell" off the Brooklyn Bridge). Her husband, who isn't the greatest guy, goes out for a pack of cigarettes and never comes back— and she's kind of okay with that. She's depressed and/or struggling with postpartum depression, but even after contemplating suicide, she won't go back on her meds. Perhaps she's just weak or overwrought.

Jenny snaps, and in a moment of darkness, dies. Or she thinks she dies. She slips off the Brooklyn Bridge only to be brought back from the depths of the with the soul of a rusalka (a menacing mermaid from Slavic lore) who strives to live vicariously through Jenny. She returns  to her hum-drum yet precarious life refreshed and ready to regain control of her two undisciplined young daughters, sew magical reproduction dresses, and aim her pent-up sex drive at the neighborhood stay-at-home dad.

At times, I wasn't sure if Jenny was possessed by a supernatural being or if she was bipolar. The mermaid who supposedly roamed the East River (excuse me—ruskala —one of the "the unavenged spirits of suicides, forsaken girls, betrayed brides, unwed mothers-to-be") acted as the polar opposite of Jenny, so she may have been an easy out for Jenny to release her impulses. Or she could have been a fairy tale creature. I'm still not sure. And I don't know if it matters to the plot. The story is painted as "magical" so I guess we'll go with the modern fable twist.

All of Jenny's issues bring me back to the issue of likable characters, a point that has been driving me crazy in my own writing lately. Sometimes I wanted to hug Jenny, help her get through the day. Sometimes I simply wanted to smack some sense into her. When Jenny's apartment grew to call-child-services messy (just clean up the spilled milk already!), I wanted to calmly explain how it IS possible to shower with kids. But she touches on ideas that modern moms think but don't dare say—"I hated that I felt like I had to be unhappy in order for it to count as important." Yes. We never utter this aloud, but stress,contentment, and importance form a sticky web many moms can't untangle. 


I don't believe we need a character to be our best friend for us to find her story compelling and readable. A real character is not necessarily always nice, even in Women's Fiction. I empathized with her as if she was a friend or relative who I still liked, though I may not approve of her choices. And I wanted to discover where those iffy choices would lead.

Which makes it a good story.

Shearn's writing is insightful, sharp, and sometimes wickedly funny. Though the Park Slope stay-at-home-mom is a slightly different breed from my own suburban Florida variety (and she skewers us weak suburbanites often), she nailed the frantic ennui. Jenny, and the story, possess a depth and cleverness that sometimes borders on literary without being pretentious.

You may want to hug Jenny, you may want to toss her off a bridge, but you'll have to decide for yourself. Whether you've enjoyed or endured the traumas of this generation's touchy-feely-parenting, this story will resonate with modern moms. The Readers Guide at the end is excellent—The Mermaid of Brooklyn would make a fabulous selection for some feisty book club discussions.

The Mermaid of Brooklyn
by Amy Shearn
368 pages
Touchstone, April 3, 2013

Amy Shearn Writes  | Twitter   | Facebook

Launching from the Depths

If anyone is still out there...I'm still here.

 I haven't been posting much lately. My brain has been fried nightly grading standardized student MATH exams. Did I mention I hate math. Grading 500 4-part algebra/trig/geometry problems an hour has been penance for every wrong I've ever committed or considered. The quality of work truly made me fear for the students of this generation. No, I cannot reveal which state's horrible exam I graded, but if your kid is in summer school or flunked a grade becasue of me, I'm sorry.

Wait. I'm not at all sorry. If I marked it wrong, it was WRONG and the kid needs to learn. Ack, the guilt.

But it was a temporary paycheck. 

And lately, I've been in dire need of some cashflow. Would you believe that being an unpublished aspiring novelist doesn't pay well?

Recently I've felt as if the Fates have been messing with me. Everything is breaking down. Dear family friends passed away. The car brain (and several other cranky parts) fizzled out. Our main a/c broke again and must be replaced. The kiddo's tween hormones and attitude kicked in. So it shouldn't have been too much of a surprise that my blood pressure spiked higher than an obese senior's with a 50-year smoking habit, right? Even though I'm thin. I eat my veggies. I do yoga for cripes sake.

Too much.

So I set my writing and blogging aside in a sudden reprioritizing of my life. I ignored social media, my immense list of unread blog posts, and my floundering manuscript.

Well, after I tidied that manuscript up for a contest.

The contest's word limit was a scant 4,500. My first two chapters weighed in at about 7,500. Crap. I whittled and slashed and sometimes squeezed my eyes shut as I hit delete repeteadly. But I nitpiked that sucker down. 

Then I discovered the place in hell they save for those crafting that nasty little Two Page Synopsis. (For those not in the industry, imagine condensing a 100k novel into 450 words including all relevant characters, plot, subplots, tone, voice, everything.)

While the pictures in my office to get me in the mood all look like this:

I may as well have been staring at this:

Christ In Limbo by Hieronymus Bosch, 1575. Image: http://www.imamuseum.org/art/collections/artwork/christ-limbo-bosch-hieronymus


 

But I did it. I submitted my chopped 4,500 first chapters and my synopsis. (Which never would have made any sense without the brilliant guidance of my critique partner--thank you!!)

And...

I won.

Well, I won the General Fiction category.  

Someone besides me (after a few glasses of wine) thinks my manuscript is not total crap.

Sometimes that's all a girl needs to get back in the game. 

Novel Rocket Launch Pad Competition

First Choice General Fiction 

{If you happen to follow this link you'll find the first duly edited version of my entry. Edited once because, as stated before, I hacked the hell out of my first two chapters to fit it into the wordcount. And twice because it's a Christian affiliated website, and my characters tend to swear. So no, my Ivy doesn't say "Cuss" — some situations call for the f-bomb.}