When Dan was a baby, he was the jolliest and heartiest of our children. He could have posed for traditional spaghetti-face picture ten times over; and he would happily have bounced to the Beach Boys all day long. He got so fat that he was late to walk. At the Y swimming class, the teacher wrote: "It's impossible to tell if Dan can swim, because he can't roll into the pool."

But as he grew older, we knew something wasn't right with Dan. He walked funny; and when he spoke, it was so difficult for him that he often gave up. "Never mind," he would say, though we knew he boiled with ideas and thoughts.

School came. Dan's absolute refusal to write was a source of frustration, then irritation, to his teachers. It was a source of anguish and anger to us. Dan wasn't stupid. His tested IQ was 126 and he had no diagnosable learning disability. We were later to learn that he had so many that it was difficult to choose one.

And though he was never violent and could concentrate for long periods, he also went through periods when he didn't seem to understand us. We had him tested for petit mal seizures. Nothing.

By seventh grade, although Dan had breezed through 'Watership Down' on to all the Greek myths and 'The Odyssey,' although he loved poetry, particularly Yeats, Dan still could not write his long, beautiful name. My heart went cold one day when he confided that he could not spell it. He remembered many things -- the directions to anyplace, the names of the constellations. He lost others: He once built a model of the CN Tower with a working elevator and lights, but got a D for failing to alphabetize the bibliography.

This enraged us; and we began to fight for Dan. We didn't know what we were fighting for. When Dan was in high school, although his LD specialist tried to steer him toward automotive class (and he did love woodworking), Dan stubbornly took and passed Algebra, Trig and Physics. It was not without help. By then we'd met the woman who figured out what was wrong (and who will be canonized). Dan had a complex speech-and-language disorder.

With kids in fourth grade, he took a computer course called Fast Forward that helped him with social and organizational skills. But it was too late to do miracles. We didn't know what we didn't know.

To write papers, Dan still had to describe and then describe again, organize and organize again verbally what he could not organize in handwriting. He would never be able to spell, although he could define anything. I can remember a day I burst into tears when a freshman English teacher suggested that Dan learn to spell words of one syllable while the others learned to spell "mesmerize" and "anarchy."

He couldn't take notes. I begged for him to be given the class notes to study. I was told it "wasn't fair to the other students." I asked if it would be fair if Dan were blind to record the teachers' remarks. Teachers though I was sarcastic.

When Dan scribed those papers to me, I wrote the down the correct spelling of the words he fully knew. And of course, I was accused of writing his papers.

While I don't flatter myself, if I had written his papers, I would not have received a C-plus.

Still, Dan graduated with a B average and entered a respected Culinary Arts program. The questions began all over again. If only Dan "tried," wouldn't he be able to write more fluently? Why didn't we get him to "try?" Dan was "lazy." Dan was "unmotivated." Dan "gave up too easily."

All those things were true. Dan is lazy. If there were an Olympic event for sleeping, Dan would medal in all the events (sleeping on a step, sleeping in the shower, sleeping at a rock concert). Dan was unmotivated, especially after twelve years of hearing he would never go to college. He did give up too easily. In fact, his shame was so great that if he arrive late for a class, he would not walk in, simply stand in the hall.

And yet, this morning he dressed for a presentation in nutrition class in a double-breasted houndstooth suit and a tuxedo shirt. Just before he left, wearing his parka, I asked him to give me that and took out his late Grandpa Arty's dark olive overcoat. It suited the man, the fat little baby, the clumsy little boy -- now 6'3" and 180 pounds.

If he chose to wear clothes, he could wear the heck out of them. But his wretched jeans and his Anime t-shirt usually suffice.

Even if it's push, pull and drag, Dan's going to get his degree. It might take him longer. He might not be valedictorian -- not if anyone ever wants to understand the speech.

But he has a lovely girlfriend, who loves him as he is, forgives him when he honestly forgets to call, prods him when he honestly forgets where his class is being held.

I thought of the old song by Malvina Reynolds: "Stubbed toes and tricycle/Where have you gone?/Turn around and you're tiny/Turn around and you're grown/Turn around and you're a young man with babes of your own."

There have been many long nights during which I wished that Dan would simply GROW UP already. But...now he has. And despite everything, when he gets to that place and turns out toward the world, I'll miss him more than I know.

She was perfect for the "part" of the young, desperately confused young actress-to-be.

Although several young women answered my post, none had the quality of wildness and abandon that Lauren had -- that seemed to make her a "natural" for the idea my editor and I had for promoting my new book 'Now You See Her' on You Tube. That is the video blogging (vlogging) site that allows people to achieve two minutes of fame by uploading their own videos. People can also see rock stars perform there, too and professional lectures by writers and artists such as John Irving. The quality ranges from professional to silly.

The story of 'Now You See Her' is that of a teenager who fakes her own abduction from a private boarding school for the arts in order to get some measure of attention -- real love and attention -- not simply the kind directed at her for her talent and her looks.

Lauren was terrific at recording her first two videos.

They were professional, well-lighted and very obviously felt. She said she identified deeply with the young actress, Hope Shay. Though she made it clear that this was a fictional character, she seemed so real that some people who saw the videos wondered what was going on.

That was a month ago.

A week after the last one appeared, Lauren said she'd start uploading two a week. Although she told me all about some of them and how professional they were, how eerie, how provocative, I never saw one.

I paid Lauren to come out and help my son record a DVD of his monologues for college auditions. She came, but had to rush off before she was finished. I paid her for the product she promised to come back and finish.

Suddenly, she was very, very busy. She was starring in shows -- but suddenly had to "back out" when she had trouble with the director. She was directing student shows that didn't get off the ground.

She'd received honors credit for her "vlogs" about Hope on You Tube; and others in her acting classes were assigned to watch them. But she never did any more.

Her first emails said that the wireless in her house wouldn't let her upload the videos.

The next few said that a friend who was a You Tube genius was going to take the videos to a specially wired computer site called "Do It" and upload them.

"Soon we'll have a fantastic cache of great material," she wrote in an e-mail. Next thing, she was "uploading videos as I speak."

Then, one of the other shows she was in suddenly got canceled.

She didn't have only ONE role in that show. She had three.

The friend never uploaded the videos. Lauren said she would. By then, I just wanted those discs that had been made. She promised to bring them to me (I'd paid for them and for her work) but she never showed up

I knew she was busy and gave her the benefit of the doubt.

When she stopped answering my e-mails, I got suspicious.

I called her. She never answered or returned my calls.

A single final e-mail promised a long explanation. It never came.

Maybe what happened to Lauren -- and I have no idea what happened -- proves the point the book makes: Young women such as she, hungry for attention, promise more than they can deliver and lie to cover up broken promises. Maybe they are, in a way, broken.

Maybe Lauren did record amazing videos shot outdoors and through the rails of a bed -- like the ones she described. I don't think she ever did. I think that this, like her many shows, and roles that she just "didn't have time" to do, was another illusion.

I'm advertising for another local young actor now to play Hope on You Tube.

Perhaps it was Lauren's quality of crazy confidence that attracted me. Perhaps it was that she seemed to know everyone in the arts who I knew. Perhaps it was a quality of vulnerability under all the capability.

I apologize to the people who started "watching Hope." Soon (I think!) there'll be another person acting out that role, if I can find one in time. It's a good gig for a young student actor.

But next time, I'm going to talk to someone who knows "Hope" before I go ahead with her.

What happened with Lauren/Hope was eerie. It almost proved that my story was ... well, true.

Jackie

I've undertaken a series of Young Adult novels, about which I'm very, very excited.

It concerns the adventures of twins Mallory and Meredith Brynn -- mirror-image identical twins -- born one minute before and one minute after midnight on New Year's Eve, so that they'll never share the same birth year.

Through an incident I won't reveal, the girls' "twin telepathy" ramps up with they reach adolescence; and they become able to see, with frightening accuracy, both the future (Mallory, the twin born after midnight) and the past (Meredith).

I've written the first novel and will this week begin corrections on it BUT I cannot think of the title -- for the series or for the novel.

Now, titling is something for which (I flatter myself) I think I have a knack.

But this series eludes me. I actually have a title for the second book in the series of three BUT NOT this one...

I've though of Double Vision, Second Sight, Both Sides Now, Look Both Ways, Sighted, The Messengers, Deja Two... and a dozen others. But I'm blamed it I can conjure just the "right" mixture of myth, mystery and young sensibility. A title is the portal to a book, the magic door.. and it's ever so important. It must have meaning on many levels. In other words, 'Telepathic Twins,' though it tells the story, wouldn't cut it.

Got ideas?

Send them to me.

There's a free copy of my newest novel, signed, in it for you. And my endless gratitude.

Jackie M.

The gifted young actor who's portraying Hope Shay, the main character in my new novel 'Now You See Her,'in a series of YouTube videos was missing in action for a few days about two weeks ago.

I thought that the wonderful series she'd begun -- "being Hope" on YouTube -- was over. I couldn't reach Lauren no matter how many times I tried.

It turned out that Lauren was on an errand of compassion. She was helping a friend in emotional trouble, much like some of the young women that the character Hope encounters in the novel. Lauren was by her friend's side when the young woman's parents could not be located, being a loyal friend.

Worried both about Lauren AND the project, I finally called her mother...and she found Lauren.

My young protege apologized profusely and began uploading videos again -- beautiful pieces of acting that make LonelyGirl15 look silly.

Though she is clear in various places that she is a fictional character, Lauren brings Hope to life with gravity, disdain and the self-centered yet vulnerable quality that makes her so irritating and
yet so appealing to those who want to understand human nature.

If you haven't yet checked this groundbreaking way to promote awareness of a novel (and it's the first time, or so we think, that it's been done, ever) please go to YouTube and either subscribe (it's free) and subscribe to "Hope Shay," so that you'll see each of the new videos as they appear (two more this week). You can also go the site and simply type in Hope Shay. Most of the videos will then appear. They range in length from a minute to five minutes.

"Hope" is also making a special appearance (live and in person) Saturday in DePere, Wisconsin at Butterfly Books. Young adults and teens (and their parents, if they're allowed) will be able to ask her how she connected to the character and brought her to life.

On a personal note, I got word just ten minutes after his birth that my children's new "cousin" -- my assistant Pamela's second baby son -- was born today, a healthy 7 pounds and 8 ounces! I'm on my way to see him.

Normally, the birth of a friend's baby would be a matter of joy but not jubilation. Pam, however, has been my assistant and friend for twelve years -- her 3-year-old son is my 3-year-old son's best friend and our families live on the same farm.

Baby joins big brother Carter (and the seven Allegretti-Brent siblings, as well as his real cousins) and as yet has no name, though my daughter, Mia, is lobbying for Luke Skywalker Johnston.

yours always,
Jackie M.

A few weeks ago, young theater student Lauren Collins Peterson seemed to drop out of sight after doing only a few of the "YouTube" installments she promised to do -- acting out Hope Shay, the main character in 'Now You See Her,' my first young adult novel.

My phone calls went unanswered. My e-mails went unanswered except for breezy comments about vlogs (video blogs) that never materialized.

After a while, I found all the comments hinky -- the Internet failed; the friend who was going to upload the videos didn't; Lauren ran out of time...

What I forgot was that being 19 is different from being a focused and driven adult -- and Lauren is more professional and focused than most. I remembered my own college health and nutrition class, during which my aunt (already deceased) did me the favor of dying an additional two times so that I could have more time to finish my paper on the role of sports in a healthy lifestyle.

And I let Lauren down (when I was mad and though I'd never see her again) by bringing up personal things (I'm not going to restate them) that, entirely inadvertently, were spread around.

Bottom line: Lauren is a major talent and a good human being. While I'm not sure from day to day if her schedule (which is breakneck) will allow her to finish this project, I hope it will. It's broken new ground; and she's done work that went far above and beyond the nominal fee I paid her and more than I expected.

In any case, I learn this lesson again and again.

When human beings and their emotions are at stake, what we write down is at peril of our reputations not just as writers but as people -- and must be undertaken only with the utmost care.

Lauren may be playing a fictional character; but she is not one.

Often, when I've adapted a situation from real life in fiction, I hurt people -- whether or not the situation actually was adapted from the life of the individual who was hurt.

It never was intentional; but in the end, that doesn't matter.

What matters is that the taste remains in my mouth, an aspirin not quite dissolved, that doesn't heal the pain.

Lauren let me down. But I let her have it. Neither thing was right; but I'm the grown person here. I should have, as they say, been more discreet. I cared too much about this project and let it matter more than it should have.

yours,

Jackie M.

in a bed-and-breakfast, watching morning come to Michigan. A dark and cold day, that will make my walk a challenge. I see a few joggers, and a man sipping a cup of coffee as he waits for the bus.

It's too early for schoolkids; but as the light begins to open, the haze around the trees that signals having survived another winter begins.

The street lamps surround the park; and a soft rain is beginning to fall.

The end of March brings a sigh of relief, a relaxation of the shoulders.

Jackie M.

She wore a red rose brooch on her lapel, made from wool that had been knitted and boiled. I admired it more than once. It was of consuming beauty.

"I realized just before I left the house that I was wearing everyting in black," she explained. "I looked like a widow. A friend of mine gave me this; she makes them. I thought I'd brighten up my look." She took out her reporter's notebook. "I know we've talked about this before but what was your inspiration for your first book."

"Being a widow," I said; and we laughed.

She was a reporter for the local newspaper and had a tight deadline. She couldn't stay to hear every word of my soon-to-come speech. I didn't think it would be a speech in which every word would be a timeless raindrop; but I wondered what she'd think.

The night grew long.

Some 300 people showed up to hear me discuss the novel 'CAGE OF STARS' for a program in Michigan called 'Along the Lakeshore,' in which cooperative libraries held a series of events leading up to a visit with the author.

In fact, in one town, an actor had written a short play from the point of view of the young man who commits a murder in the book, and who suffers from schizophrenic illness. There was a great deal of thought and creativity under the roof of the auditorium at the high school.

When the last book was signed, I was ready to take off my heels and hit the bed.

Then someone approached me and said, "Patti said to give you this." In her palm, the woman held a red crocheted woolen rose, a gift for a black dress -- and for a weary traveler.

And I no longer cared so much what the reporter Patti Eddington would write about my visit. She had given me the ultimate tribute. She'd thrown a rose, and from her own heart.

Jackie M.

My late husband was a Civil War buff. I might even say he was a scholar, having written several good articles on several subjects.

And I began to read his books, too.

When he died, there were more than 175; and some were the journals of Union and Confederate soldiers.

They had to go back into battle when they were barely over their grievous sounds. They had to go back into battle (especially the Confederate soldiers) with newspaper stuffed into their shoes. They had inadequate clothing. They slept rough and limped. They suffered from scurvy and dysentery.

Everything's diffrent now.

Everything.

It's a modern war in Iraq. Soldiers have plenty of good food and safe places to sleep (relatively).

But not since the Civil War, according to medical experts, have soldiers been sent back to the front so soon after being wounded. Some don't want to go; many aren't ready. But they signed on the line.

Is this "supporting our troops?" Is this the real meaning of the bumper stickers people slap on their cars so they can feel good and forget about it?

A wounded or barely healed soldier is a liability to his or her comrades and himself.

In the Civil War, Americans believed they were fighting a holy war, that God was on their side (whatever their side was). They made foolish choices through vanity and courage.

We were to have learned from that war.

What have we learned?

This has to stop; and nineteen months is too long to wait.

It has to stop.

It has to stop.

JGM

For the third time, I'm leading a book discussion online for Barnes & Noble, this time of my novel, 'Cage of Stars.'

The previous times I've done this have been gratifying and surprising, not only in numbers of those who've joined the group, but in seeing the insights and depth of questions they brought to the table.

There have been some spirited differences of opinions and a few clashes, but none that required the moderator to step in and remind us to behave.

At any case, I've usually signed on early in the morning and again in the evening every day for three weeks, starting with the prologue and working my way through the book, often giving a couple of hours a day to the effort, which, in my mind, has been well worth it.

Visit the Barnes & Noble website to find out how you can sign up for the upcoming discussion of my novel and others (including classic novels) and we'll all enjoy doing what we who love books like best -- gossiping about them.

The discussion's open to anyone of any age; so bring your husband, daughter or teen. There's still time to read the novel, which was recently named one of the New York Public Library's Best Books for Teens and Young Adults for 2006. People jump in at any point.

See you there.

Jacquelyn MItchard