Linda Henry

Here's a partial list of articles I've written for various magazines. Scroll down if you want to read a couple of my essays, including an excerpt (excuse me) from my forthcoming book.

Works

Partial List of Published Work
THE COOKIE GARDEN
More than a children's book, The Cookie Garden reminds kids and grown-ups to cultivate imagination, and encourages parents to pay special attention when kids come up with funny, interesting, and just plain silly ideas. Read the book and dream of a magical garden, or go for it and make the magic happen.

PARENTING MAGAZINE:
For a while, the kids practically paid for themselves: “Kids’ Passions” (November 2004); “Goodnight, Baby!” (April 2002); “Making Sense of Time” (March 2002); “Taking Your Toddler (Almost) Anywhere” (Oct. 1999);“Discovering Grace,”(May 2000); “Inside the Mind of a Baby” (May 1998, reprinted in BABY TALK in Oct. 2001 and 2003). Plus one I wrote under a pseudonym about my ex-father-in-law and the abuses of the family court system.

READER'S DIGEST:
A Drama in Real Life about a guy who got lost on his jet-ski off Cozumel: “A Speck in an Endless Sea” (Nov. 1995).

GLAMOUR:
This was back when GLAMOUR wasn't so COSMO, obviously:
"Donating My Daughter's Organs" (May 1995);"Should Rapists Ever Be Set Free?” (Nov. 1993).

MINNESOTA MONTHLY:
The story of the first cold case cracked by matching DNA to the sex-offender data bank:“Evidence at 80 Below” (Nov. 1993).

BRIDE'S:
A good gig, from 1992 to 1993, writing articles about honeymooning in Jamaica and Mexico ("Where Disco Never Died"). I called myself "The Lone Honeymooner," since I was the only single in a world of couples.

LAKE COUNTRY JOURNAL
My column “Of Woodstoves & Websites” ran between 1999 and 2001, 18 essays about life as a single mother with a heart of gold.

THE TALKING STICK
Founding mother and editor-in-chief of first eight issues of The Talking Stick, a literary journal published by Minnesota's Jackpine Writers' Bloc, 1995–1999. Worked with emerging writers to produce a high-quality compilation of poetry, essays, and short fiction. And it's still being published, in its 20th year.

Mentorship & Teaching
• Instructor, Loft Literary Center; Public Library; Community Ed; private coaching; course titles included "Writing for Magazines," “Writing Magazine Proposals,” and “Writing for Prophet/Profit.”

• Co-founder in 1993 of the Jackpine Writers' Bloc, a Minnesota writers' group that's still meeting today and continues to publish a literary journal, The Talking Stick, which I edited through its first eight issues.

Revisions
The Mercy Review


Soul Ripper
Sam, my son, is very mild mannered. As a kid with Asperger's, he had to be taught the ways of us neurotypicals: the give and take of conversation, feigning genuine interest in how someone's day is going, that sort of thing. He's a quick study. Today, I have a 17-year-old son who greets me at the door and asks how my day went. Often, I get the sense that he's genuinely interested in my response. How many mothers of teenage boys can say the same?

But when Sam was in the 7th grade, he became a target for bullies. More accurately, it was one bully, a kid Sam had known for years. I imagine the kid looked around and thought, "How can I use this bottled-up angst and aggression to become admired among my peers? I know, I'll make fun of Sam, who won't know what to make of my sharp wit and badgering behavior."

There was one incident, and then another. I'd get a call from a teacher and try to work it out. I soon realized that having his mom take care of the bullying was not a good practice. Learning how to deal with bullies is a life skill, like learning to change a tire or telling a friend she has something in her teeth. I worked with the special-ed teacher to write up a new goal as part of his IEP (Individual Education Plan). Sam learned tactics for dealing with bullying. He could speak up for himself using "I" statements, as in "When you do ____, I feel ____." He could simply not respond to it. He could use humor to deflect it. He could tell a teacher.

Months passed, and then a disciplinary notice arrived in the mail. Sam had threatened three students. Specifically, he said, "I'm going to rip out your souls and sell them on ebay." I called the school disciplinarian. Her last name looked like it was pronounced "Tyranny," so that's how I pronounced it. I asked her to explain more about the incident. What might have provoked Sam to make such an amusing statement?

Mrs. Tyranny was not amused. Citing student privacy, she wouldn't say who else was involved or give any context for what she called "a very inappropriate statement." She said the other students were disciplined, but individual behavior was dealt with on an individual basis. Each child was responsible for his or her own behavior.

"But these are kids," I said. "This was an interaction. It's all about how they talk to each other, how they treat each other. Isn't this what they call a teachable moment?"

"We have to take each student's behavior and deal with that. As for Sam's part, he made a terroristic threat and the school has to take that seriously."

"Seriously?" I asked. "So you were seriously concerned that parents would have to go on ebay and buy back their sons' souls? And how can you call it a terroristic threat? It's not even physically possible."

"It is considered a threat. And if you want to know how seriously we have to take these things, call the police and ask them."

"If I called the Police Department about this, they would think I was crazy."

She admitted that Sam had never any disciplinary problems. The principal didn't even know who he was until Sam was ordered to his office. She was unaware that one of Sam's IEP goals was to stand up to bullies.

"It sounds to me like he did exactly what he needed to do," I said.

Mrs. Tyranny would not be moved. Anyway, it was just a warning, and it seemed that unless I notified the authorities, they would be none the wiser about it.

When Sam came home from school, I showed him the disciplinary notice. He looked stricken, apparently not seeing that I was barely able to contain my pride and glee. It's an Aspy thing.

"It's ok," I said. "I'm really proud of you, plus it's a great line. You're not in trouble at all." I patted him on the back for emphasis.

"Oh, thank God," he said.

I asked him what happened. They were in Health class, he said. A bully took his school agenda and wouldn't give it back unless Sam said "some really stupid and gross stuff." He tried to give the bully and his friends the silent treatment, but they started poking him, saying, "Is he dead?" He tried to get the teacher's attention, but she was a sub and didn't want to do anything. Finally, he looked the main bully squarely in the eye and said, "I'm going to rip out your soul and sell it on ebay." Whereupon the three boys reported the threat to the substitute teacher, just as they would have reported him saying the really stupid and gross thing they were trying to get him to say.

It must have been really stupid and really gross, because Sam wouldn't tell me what it was. Then again, I'm not going to make him. He's the soul ripper.

Selected Works

Essays
My daughter likes depressing books. “Someone dies in the first chapter,” Grace says gleefully of a novel she can’t put down. Maybe this inclination comes naturally, growing up with the ghost of a sister she never knew. 
In which my Aspy son prevails against middle-school bullies. Adapted from "A Voice Not My Own"