The Pen Is Mightier Than the Bat

Last winter, I started reading a thick slab of a book that I had planned to finish over Winter Break. It's called The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach. I only got seven chapters in before life got in my way and I put it down, school started back up, and while I did indeed read other things in the meantime, somehow The Art of Fielding still had my receipt bookmarking chapter seven.

I picked it up again last night and started again from the beginning, and remembered a passage that really paints a picture. But first, I want to say that the book is about a kid who goes to a small liberal arts college to play baseball. This passage comes from chapter one. The way Harbach describes the game with words is nothing short of excellent.

The kid glided in front of the first grounder, accepted the ball into his glove with a lazy grace, pivoted, and threw to first. Though his motion was languid, the ball seemed to explode off his fingertips, to gather speed as it crossed the diamond. It smacked the pocket of the first baseman's glove with the sound of a gun going off. The coach hit another, a bit harder: same easy grace, same gunshot report. 

I'd like to say that all of my students could write that way by the end of fifth grade (although Olivia and Maddi weren't too far off...), but I like to hope that I put my piece of the building block into place.

I hope you all take some time this lazy summer to read something awesome.