Karmen Kooyers
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jazz tribute - charlie haden

8/2/2014

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Our jazz world has lost another great musician.  Charlie Haden, exquisite bass player, died Friday, July 11.  In his July 15th tribute in the Chicago Tribune, Howard Reich, writes of how Haden suffered as a child from bulbar polio, which afflicts the throat, and says, "In a way, the bass became a kind of substitute for his voice.  Perhaps that explains the ardently melodic quality of all of his playing, even in the most innovative, avant-garde settings."

If you like the following sample, I highly recommend you purchase the albums Steal Away with Hank Jones or Haunted Heart with Quartet West.  If you'd like to read more outstanding columns on jazz, see the link to Mr. Reich's name above.
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jazz tribute - jimmy scott

7/1/2014

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Jimmy Scott, sweet and soulful jazz singer, passed away Thursday, June 12, 2014.  Here is his lush voice on “When did you leave Heaven?”   If you love this song, I recommend purchasing the comprehensive “Little Jimmy Scott - The Savoy Years and More."  Rest in peace, Jimmy.

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blog hop - my writing process

6/20/2014

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This Blog Hop is a blog tour showcasing authors and their writing process.  I was tagged by my talented daughter, Katie Van Ark, whose new young adult novel The Boy Next Door will be published February 2015 by MacMillan’s Swoon Reads.  Katie is a fellow SCBWI member, avid skater, and a “firm believer that it’s never too late to follow your dreams.”  Read her post and back-track through the blog tour here:  http://www.katievanark.com/blog/blog-hop-my-writing-process.html

 I’m tagging Joan Donaldson, who will post next week.  See her bio at the end of this post.

 Here’s a little about me:

What am I working on now?
I just finished writing a picture book called The Library that Grew and Grew, a story inspired by the library where I work, which began in 1922 with a few shelves set up in a ladies’ dress shop.  Later, it moved into an old house and finally a new building.  A few people told me the town helped with the move to our current library by lining the street and passing books hand to hand.  Further research determined this not to be true (the townspeople moved the books in boxes in their cars), but the visual image was too fun to let go.  Though I originally hoped to write this story as non-fiction, my fictional version turned out to be a lot more fun.

How does my work differ from others in its genre?
Voice, style and subject matter are what make writers unique.  Voice and style seem closely tied to the place we call home, the place we grew up or feel most closely associated with, the place that feeds our memories.  Settings, dialogue and emotion are what pull at my heart.  I find humor and dark truths equally engaging.  For my novels, I tend to become interested in researching obscure topics, such as the jazz of John Coltrane or the 1972 Watergate scandal, so my subject matter is definitely different.  I love jazz and improvisation and like to play with words in my picture books, especially words that sound real but are made up, such as “snick-snack” and “jabber-talker” from Woody Guthrie’s song, One Day Old.  I also like setting word phrases askew, like this line from my story on jazz—“I was born a granddaddy long time ago.”

 Why do I write what I do?
John Coltrane was known for his long, convoluted improvisations.  Even his bandleader, Miles Davis, didn’t always understand what was going on in those improvs.  “Man, why such long solos?” he once asked.  Coltrane couldn’t explain the maze of notes he heard in his mind, how the music sometimes led him on wild goose chases and other times fit together perfectly.  “Once I get started, I don’t know how to stop,” he told Davis.  “You take the sax out of your mouth,” Davis said.  “That’s how you stop.”


Why do I write what I do?  Once I get started, I don’t know how to stop.

 How does my writing process work?
I read or hear something I can’t forget, and begin researching the topic.  Research is engrossing, of course.  So, I do lots of research and take lots of notes.  I then try to find an emotional resonance or thread that runs through my notes and figure out what strikes me most about these stories.  In the case of Coltrane—courage, dedication, and genius—and then I begin to play with characters and what-ifs.  A story emerges.  Eventually.  Long walks help.

 Tune in next week to read about Joan Donaldson.
Joan is the author of five books, has served on the faculty of the Mayborn Conference in Texas, is frequently featured on National Public Radio affiliate WMUK with “audio postcards from the farm,” and in her spare time, is an organic blueberry farmer and a quilter.  She says she sleeps beneath a quilt at night, but I’m not sure she sleeps at all!  I nominated her this year for the Michigan Author Award.   Join her at: http://www.joandonaldson.com/blog



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jazz

6/19/2014

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How my love affair with jazz began:

One Saturday night many years ago, Hazen Schumacher’s program, “Jazz Revisited,” came on the radio while I was washing dishes.  I didn’t think I liked jazz and would have switched it off if my hands hadn’t been wet.  But Hazen played a familiar big band tune, and as the horns blared from the radio, I thought, swing music is jazz?

After that, I saved up dishes to wash each Saturday while I caught Hazen’s show.  His commentaries intrigued me.  I brought home jazz CDs and books on jazz from the library and began to learn more about improvisation.  I’m not a musician, so the theories were beyond me, but I understood enough to appreciate the talents of the composers and players.  My studies carried me from ragtime to swing to bebop, from Jelly Roll Morton to Duke Ellington to Dizzy Gillespie.  And then I stumbled at John Coltrane.

I knew Trane was considered a genius, and I enjoyed his early ballads.  But I couldn’t understand the breakneck, convoluted rhythms in his later pieces, in particular his masterpiece, A Love Supreme, the suite he recorded in December 1964 as a tribute to God.  Was God pleased with this music? I wondered, the first time I heard it.  Actually, I only listened to the first minute.  Trane’s sax droned through the air like an airplane losing altitude, and I shut it off.

Yet, I kept reading about Trane, fascinated with his work in modal improvisation and his intense dedication to performance.  I played a tiny bit of A Love Supreme each day, a minute and a half, then two minutes, then two and a half.  I must have played the CD a hundred times in short spurts.  Each time, I watched the clock, and as soon as the prescribed amount of time was up, I shut off Coltrane and put on a favorite swing band.

Then one evening, as I stood washing the dishes in the quiet of the kitchen, a jazz riff swirled through my mind, a riff that seemed to rise and fall like a nighthawk gliding over hills.  Ba-dwaaa-n-da-dahh.  Suddenly I realized I was humming a riff from A Love Supreme.  How did that happen?  My brain had finally connected to the patterns in the music, but more importantly, so had my heart.

I quickly dried my hands, put on A Love Supreme, and waited breathlessly for my riff to appear.  And once it did, I kept listening.  I stood beside the kitchen counter for thirty-three minutes and listened to the entire suite, finally and irrevocably enraptured with John Coltrane.

Years have passed since then.  I’m still learning about jazz, working my way from Coltrane to Charles Mingus and now to Ornette Coleman (what is that man’s music all about anyway?).  I won’t ever catch up, and that’s the thrill of it.  Talented new musicians appear each year, springing from the giants that have come before them, and contributing their own gifts to the world.  Though I may take a while to understand different approaches, I treasure the surprises that come—those ah-ha moments—when rhythms and patterns finally click in place.  Jazz truly is a music of discovery and surprise. 

(originally published in The Christian Science Monitor)


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    Karmen Kooyers

    I am a children’s writer and youth librarian who’s passionate about literature, libraries, and art.

    The path before me unwinds in ways that surprise, delight, and befuddle.  I hope you’ll join me to see where it leads.


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