Children's Book People Know How to Have Fun, Part 2

Coe's Bar

Arthur Geisert and assistant

Fun for writers (part 1) is meeting the readers of our books. Fun for writers (part 2) is going to book parties--our own and those of other writers.  Last Saturday was that wonderful kind of book-party fun. 

The book party for Arthur Geisart's new Thunderstorm  (Enchanted Lion Books) was held at Coe's Bar in Bernard, Iowa.  Arthur also opened his studio/residence for us to tour. (He lives in a remodeled bank, sleeps in the vault.)

Coe's Bar was busy selling copies of Arthur's book, and selling beer, burgers and fries to book lovers from all over Iowa, Wisconsin and Illinois.  The place was standing room only. Arthur was busy signing from noon until 4:00 p.m. Many writers and illustrators were in attendance as well as various stripes of book readers, book lovers and book sellers. Ahead of me in the signing line was MaryAnn Peters, owner of the wonderful NewBo Books in Cedar Rapids.

It was energizing to see such widespread and genuine excitement about a children's book.  Arthur Geisert's publisher Claudia Zoe Bedrick of Enchanted Lion Books came to celebrate this new release. A producer from NPR was on the scene interviewing attendees. (I think the program will be aired on an up-coming "Week-end Edition.")

I was able to pick up a copy of the 2013 Enchanted Lion Books catalog and am eager to get my hands on some of these quirky, heartfelt, and remarkable books.  Claudia Zoe Bedrick writes at the front of the catalog:  "We seek out books that spark curiosity, wonder and astonishment; books that ask and explore, while affirming the creative force of the imagination and of life.  We are always creating the future. Life is always in the making. To open up this idea for children is to give them an infinite sense of hope and possibility. It is to nourish their capacity to act and to dream." Indeed!

cinnamon roll nearly as big as a tractor tire

And speaking of nourishment...I also was able to share a farm-house sized cinnamon roll with Jeni Reeves and Bonnie Geisert while we chatted about writing, our particular projects, and our lives. I've known and enjoyed Jeni for a number of years, just met Bonnie that Saturday; but it seemed as if we had been eating cinnamon rolls together in Bernard for decades. 

I love the communities of children's book people and how they intertwine--Brooklyn, New York--Bernard, Iowa; Galena, Illinois--Mount Vernon, Iowa; a story of a thunderstorm in the country conceived and made by an artist from a city; tractors and publishers catalogs; cinnamon rolls and books that "nourish our capacity to act and dream."

Thanks Arthur Geisert and Claudia Zoe Bedrick for a great book and a great party! 

Children's Book People Know How to Have Fun: Part One

One of the most fun things a children's book writer can do is meet the audience--the kids who read the books.  I've had two very special "meet the audience" days recently.

Sculpture outside the Meskwaki Settlement School

Entrance to the Meskwaki Settlement School

In  early April I went to the Meskwakie Settlement School, and visited with children of the Meskuaki Tribe in Tama, Iowa. The Settlement School educates children from preschool age through high school.

I visited with students in grades 3-6.  We talked about how writers can construct characters, how we write about the places that are special to us, and how important it is to keep a journal, to write down our  ideas, to write down the things we want to remember.

There is history, so much history, in and around this school. The Iowa members of Meskwaki Tribe were removed to Kansas in the 1843. In 1856 the Iowa legislature passed a law "allowing" Meskwakis to stay in Iowa (this language is embarrassing in our time, but it's what the law said). In 1857 the Meskwaki Tribe purchased 80 acres of land in Tama County and re-settled in Iowa. On this settlement is built the school which I visited.

I was privileged to be there and spend time with the students--and hope to go back sometime.

Later in April I went to Madison to visit another special school--Crestwood Elementary School where my granddaughter Evelyn is a second grader.  I was one hour in Evelyn's classroom--we invented two characters--Lizzie and Buzzie, what they loved, what they worried about, what they carried in their pockets, what they hoped for--then in the afternoon visited with  all the students in the school. We talked about where writers get ideas for stories: from their families, friends; from what they wish they could do; from their heroes; from the places they loved.

I have done many school visits but not enough that I don't get nervous, hoping that the students and I will make a connection that will have meaning for them, but worrying that all the other things that are going on--school lunch, recess complications, loose teeth--will get in the way. I can't be sure what we've done until I've been there and done the day.

When it's over, though, I am always glad I had the chance for time with students. I am always reminded of what important work we do together when we talk about writing and stories.

And I always come home thinking, "That was good fun!'

Life on the back porch. Life in the street.

Regular life feels somehow frivolous, undeserved, when friends in Boston have been recently locked inside their homes, waiting for the next round of firing, when we have all witnessed via television, bombs, explosions, shootouts, lives thrown into grief and chaos.

A blog about writing for kids almost feels like playing on the back porch when there's a fire on the street. But our lives are webs, I think, and in that web--along with the fear and sadness and mystery of a desire to maim--are the uplifting qualities of courage, caring, in real life and the buoying, courageous characters found in good books.


So along the journey to good books, to community ...

 In January, Lauren Stringer-- very talented author-illustrator of a new book called When Stravinsky Met Nijinsky-- tagged me for the blog-around-the-world tour called "The Next Big Thing." I quickly said, "oh of course I can do that"--send you a photo of my new book, and brief description and then a short time later, tag others and answer some questions about the book.

Then life intervened with its own here-and-there demands.But today I am "doing that," doing what I said I would do, writing about my new book, coming out in September--Farmer Will Allen and the Growing Table (Readers to Eaters Books). It seems appropriate, even in this tumultuous time, to tell you about Will Allen, because he is a man committed to the goal of giving hungry people everywhere access to good food, to making our world community stronger, in the face of all who would tear it down.




Questions:

1. What is the title of your new book? Farmer Will Allen and the Growing Table.

2. Where did the idea come from? I was interested in urban farming and when I read of Will Allen and his Milwaukee farm, I knew writing about an urban farmer was the best way to tell the story of an urban farm.

3. What genre does your book fall under? Picture book biography.

4. What actor would you choose to play the part of your character? Danny Glover would be perfect. Will Allen reminds me of Danny Glover.

5. What is a few-sentence synopsis?  When Will Allen was a boy he hated farm work and wanted a "white shirt" job. When he grew up he realized he loved growing things, built a city farm and taught neighbors to help grow good food. But that table wasn't big enough; he wanted to invite more to the table and has worked to build a world-sized table.

pots and buckets at Will Allen's Growing Power

growing on the ground at Growing Power

6. Who is publishing your book? The very committed Philip Lee of Readers to Eaters Books.

7. How long did it take to write the first draft? The first draft of this book took about five months, but there were several "pre-first" drafts in previous months while I homed in on my real subject.

8. What other books would you compare this story to in your genre?  Possibly The Boy Who Drew Birds: a biography of John James Audubon by Jacqueline Davies  (illustrated by the wonderful Melissa Sweet) because they are both biographies of people with one passion; in the gardening sense White House Kitchen Garden and How It Grew by Robbin Gourley, another story of growing good food.

9. Who or what inspired you to write this book? The actual life and deeds of Will Allen. Many people around the world go to bed each night with good food in their stomachs because of his work.

10. What else about the book might pique a reader's interest?  There's a lot of good stuff about red wiggler worms.

And now I am pleased to tag my friend and fellow-writer Jane Kurtz and her lively Anna, of Anna Was Here:

Anna knows she will be fine in her temporary move to Kansas.  After all, she gets
gold ribbons for always being prepared.  And it's her first chance to meet cousins
and aunts and great aunts where her grandma grew up.  The Great Plains has always
held huge challenges for people, though, and she finds herself in the middle of
disasters too big for any nine-year-old girl asking "Who's in charge here, anyway??"
 Anna discovers a lot about what we cling to when everything is out of control. 

More from Jane soon.

More here, soon, about writing, gardening, finding stories, telling stories. 

Heard and seen in Illinois

Last weekend I was in Springfield Illinois for the Illinois Reading Association Conference and was fortunate to be in the audience when Eric Rohmann gave his acceptance speech for the Prairie State Award for Excellence in Writing for Children.  He spoke with warmth and grace:

"The imagination doesn't require much: a sudden light under a dark doorway, a line of smoke on the horizon, a nudge down a snowy hill...[as a child] I [once] sat on the grassy slope of my front lawn looking out at the house across the street. Suddenly, a black cat ran behind the house and a moment later, from the other side, a crow flew squawking into the sky. I knew better, but to my young mind the running cat, through some enchantment, had become the flying crow.

Children only need a place to start."

What a lovely picture--a cat becoming a crow! For great photos of the Prairie State Award Banquet check out Sharron McElmeel's blog.


I had gone to Springfield with Sharron McElmeel, Michelle Edwards, and Dori Butler.  We gave two panel presentations--one on how we each do our research. Dori actually took a citizens' police course to learn about police procedures for her mystery novels. Michelle has interviewed school kids to help herself understand what it really feels like to be the new kid at school, and she once asked her own kids to scout out some authentic names. I talked about the importance of going to the places where our stories happen, and Sharron pointed out to us all that there are many kids of research. We met some very dedicated Illinois teachers, whom I am glad to know. And we had a wonderful time chatting with Candy Fleming, who was also at the conference.

We also decided to be tourists in Springfield for a while.  There is nothing like "place" to bring a person to life. Standing in the old Illinois capitol and thinking that this is where Lincoln argued cases on a regular basis was awe-inspiring. Or walking up the steep staircase at the Lincoln home and knowing that he too walked up this staircase. The whole experience seemed to fit right in with thinking about the importance of going to the place where our stories take place. Just being there made me want to write one more story about Abraham Lincoln.

"old" Illinois Supreme Court Chamber where Lincoln argued cases

Wry revision, er... Revision and Rye...Rye and Revision

Laura's place on a snowy day

Last week I was in Maine, visiting with my sisters Laura and Audrey and my mother. We had a great time cooking, sewing, laughing, remembering, listening to Team of Rivals.

Part of the cooking was me making rye bread flavored with pickle juice. I'd tried it once before and found it perfectly rye and sour. And this time I decided why waste a jar of pickles when I could just as easily use vinegar seasoned with pickling spices. Hmmm....

Not every idea is a good one. Not every revision works.

"stunning" rye

The vinegar totally killed the yeast. The defeated loaf shrank in on itself after I took it out of the oven. The bread had no crumb. It was sour.  It was solid, quite like cement, something you might keep on hand to stun a burglar.

So I had to revise my revision of the recipe and try again.

Revised version was worthy of reuben sandwiches, which were indeed stunning.

This whole wry episode reminded me of a revising experience I had recently. I've written a picture book biography of Will Allen which will be coming out this fall, published by Readers to Eaters, and illustrated by Eric Larkin. I have thought for some months that I had done all I could do with this manuscript, that it was indeed done.

I'm excited about telling Will Allen's urban farming story and excited to see what Eric Larkin will do with the text. So when I was visiting the College Community Schools in Cedar Rapids a couple of weeks ago I decided to read this story to one group of students.  I quickly realized that the manuscript was too long--not because the kids were jumping out the windows, but because it sounded clunky to my ear. It had no lightness, no smoothness. The sentences seemed stuttery to me, containing three verbs when one would do. I knew I'd have to revise.

But the funny thing is that I had read this story just recently to an audience of adults and hadn't caught the clunkiness. Why did I catch it with the kids? I'm not sure.

I cut about 300 words. The initial part of the work was done in the United Airlines lounge at O'Hare--a new place to me, with gray carpets, gray sky, nothing to focus on but my work. It was a lot easier to see the story I wanted and to pare away what I didn't want in this neutral, non-stimulating space. I was astonished at how I could sit in my chair and think about only what I wanted this manuscript to be.

There are several things I've learned from this experience.

1. we are never really done
2. read your story out loud to its real audience before you call it done
3. to see a story anew, sometimes it helps to work in a new place
4. there's something to be learned from not-quite-done stories, something to be done with bad bread

Happy Birthday Langston Hughes

Writers Almanac tells us today is the birthday of Langston Hughes. Also that he lived for much of his childhood with his grandmother in Lawrence, Kansas. And this is one of the things that's important about that:


"Langston was fascinated by the streetcars in Lawrence, and he wanted to be a streetcar conductor when he grew up. But he also loved books. The Lawrence Public Library was one of the only integrated public buildings in the city, and he spent as much time there as possible. He said,'Then it was that books began to happen to me, and I began to believe in nothing but books and the wonderful world in books where if people suffered, they suffered in beautiful language, not in monosyllables, as we did in Kansas.'"

Well, Langston Hughes grew up to be a wonderful poet who knew something himself about "beautiful language." Some of  his poems, and their titles have become part of our working vocabulary. We often hear talk of  "a dream deferred," from the poem "Harlem [Dream Deferred]."

Who could ever forget, once having heard, "Well, son, I'll tell you:/Life for me ain't been no crystal stair."from the poem Mother to Son.

Just this week one of the Coretta Scott King Honor Awards, given by the ALA, was awarded to No Crystal Stair: A Documentary Novel of the Life and Work of Lewis Michaux, Harlem Bookseller, by Vaunda Micheaux Nelson (published by Carolrhoda Lab).  This sounds like a wonderful book. I'm eager to read it. But even before I read it, I appreciate the circling back to Langston Hughes in the title. Langston Hughes--the connection between a library in Kansas and a bookstore in Harlem.

Libraries and bookstores. Where would we be without them? Whenever it is "a damp, drizzly November in my soul," I do not take to a ship, but to a library or a bookstore, and find myself roused just by being surrounded by all those stories, all that information. And then I bring some of it home--even better.

Somewhere, in some library or bookstore, someone is having a birthday. Happy Birthday to you, too, and thanks!

 

                                          

 

When an idea knocks...

 It's January again and time for the winter residency of the Hamline MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults. I always look forward to this winter "writers' camp," where we talk about writing from breakfast until dinner--and after, with lectures, workshops, readings, and old fashioned conversation.

This winter I had the good fortune to be in a conversation with Jane Resh Thomas, Marsha Qualey, and Liza Ketchum about the reading and writing we'd been doing, what had inspired, or excited us, in the writing of others, what we were working on at our own desks. During that morning as we drank our coffee, and Jane's dog, Gilly, listened in (possibly hoping to glean ideas for a book he's working on. How could Jane Resh Thomas's dog not be a writer?) Jane said two things that I want to share:

*When an idea knocks you'd better answer the door.

*What is writing if not being naked on the page?

And that reminded me of Jane's wonderful posts on The Story Teller's Inkpot. Check this one out. It's like being in the same room and listening to Jane talk about point of view and psychic  distance--except that you have to imagine Gilly.