A little nepotism to go with your coffee this morning? Don’t mind if I do! As you may know, my husband Matt Bird has a book coming out this spring that is a culmination of his blog’s breakdown of what makes a good story. Called The Secrets of Story: Innovative Tools for Perfecting Your Fiction and Captivating Readers (Writers’ Digest, 2017), Matt takes his Ultimate Story Checklist and makes it easy, accessible, and invaluable. I’ve mentioned all this before. What’s new is that he’s now doing something that I’m personally incapable of. Folks sometimes ask me if I ever do manuscript consultations. I don’t, but there’s a good reason for that: I’m lousy at them. Maybe not lousy, but I’m no editor and that’s the truth. Matt, however, is fantastic at them. Now he’s offering his services to folks who are interested. Children’s books, YA, scripts, adult novels, you name it. Dude’s got mad skills. And I say that as someone who can’t do the same.
All right. ‘Nuff of that. Let’s instead remember that the new school year is nearly upon us. My daughter is about to step out the door and start Kindergarten for the very first time. As such, I’ve been watching the new Kindergarten books of 2016 with a closer eye than usual. And as luck would have it, the Chicago Tribune came ah-calling recently. Check out my favorites of the season in their piece Bumper crop of first-day-of-school books.
AND THE WINNER of the 2016 Society of Illustrators Gold Medal for Original Art goes to . . . . b.b. cronin for his book The Lost House (Penguin Random House/ Viking Children’s Books). Hm? What’s that? You haven’t read it yet? Well let me confess something to you . . . neither had I! I’ve seen it in my To Be Read pile, but as God is my witness I thought it was a reprint of an older title. Now it looks like I’m going to have to move it up in the ranks. Whoops! See the winners in full right here.
Folks ask me, what do you miss the most about New York? It’s been a year since I left The Big Apple, my home of approximately 13 years. I miss a lot of things. My friends. That sense of satisfaction you get around 6 p.m. on a workday, just sitting in Bryant Park with a good book and an iced chai latte. And, of course, the exhibits in town. I just heard about the Pratt Manhattan Gallery’s The Picture Book Re-Imagined: The Children’s Book Legacy of Pratt Institute and the Bank Street College of Education. There’s even some ACM (Anne Carroll Moore) on show! Check out this explanation of the exhibit with photographs galore. Envious. So envious.
Childhood Mystery Solved: I’m pretty sure I’ve zeroed in on the location of Hitler. How’s that again? Well, here’s the thing. When I was a kid I was read a fair number of books. Some stuck in my cranium. Others didn’t. One that did was a book that I recall because it was a collection of poems and nursery rhymes. In one spread it showed the devil and some of his compatriots. Amongst them was a bird with the head of Adolf Hitler. I am not making this up. My mother would sometimes show it to me and explain who it was and why Hitler was bad (or at least that’s my memory). Years later I tracked down what I thought was the book (A Great Big Ugly Man Came Up and Tied His Horse to Me by Wally Tripp) only to find that while it did have a devil in it, there was no Hitler. It was a pretty weird thing to make up, though, so I never lost hope. Then, just the other day, I saw this:
Okay. It isn’t Hitler. But I remember this image perfectly (turns out gigantic Napoleons also have a way of sticking in your brain). I am now convinced that I have relocated the book with that weird Hitler bird. Maybe. In the meantime, I’m beginning to believe that Wally Tripp is one of the great forgotten gems of the American children’s literary world. He did win a Boston Globe-Horn Book Award, after all. That ain’t small potatoes. Read more about him here.
New Magazine Alert: And I owe Julie Danielson the credit for locating this one. Called Illustoria, a new periodical is said to be, “a magazine for children that embraces the same values as the current slow-food and maker-culture trends of today, ‘a return to craftsmanship, an appreciation of quality, a celebration of curiosity, creativity, and also the people behind the scenes’.” This sounds interesting in and of itself, but it also sounds familiar on some level. I’m reminded of the Arts & Craft movement that occurred in America and Europe between 1880 and 1910 as a direct response to the industrial revolution. We seem to be experiencing something similar in the face of the digital revolution. Food for thought. In any case, learn more about Illustoria here.
I like Booklist. Honest I do. But how long are they going to make us pay to read their articles online? For example, in a recent edition I was very taken with Daniel Kraus’s funny, smart, and highly informative consideration of the Choose Your Own Adventure phenomenon. In fact, I’ve never read such an interesting breakdown of the series, its popularity when I was a kid, and its fate. Here’s the link to the article, but I hope you have a Booklist subscription ’cause that’s the only way you’ll be able to read it.
Tiny desk contest! Not here, of course. There. Where Marc Tyler Nobleman hangs out. Seems he’s having a Guess the Kidlit Desk Contest. The rules are simple. You guess which author has which desk (and there are 18 in each subcontest). Get ’em right, win a prize. If nothing else, it’s a fascinating glimpse into the desk of the creative mind. Most are far too clean and tidy, though. I think I like this one the best:
Snapchat. It is a thing. I do not know much (read: anything) about. What I do know, though, is that Travis Jonker just used it for the best. thing. ever. Doubt me if you dare.
This just in, in the press release files from the Children’s Book Council:
We are thrilled to announce that acclaimed illustrator Christian Robinson has agreed to design the 2017 Children’s Book Week poster commemorating the 98th annual Children’s Book Week, to take place on May 1-7, 2017. Robinson is the artist behind such beloved picture books as Gaston by Kelly DiPucchio and Last Stop on Market Street by Matt de la Peña, for which he received a Coretta Scott King Illustrator Honor and a Caldecott Honor.
Daily Image:
The representative from Illinois would like to raise an objection. Behold, a brilliant book:
In this book, kids are encouraged to make their own dollhouses out of cardboard boxes. There are even instructions placed under the dustjacket for that very purpose. As the mother of a girl who is basically a human Maker Station, I recognized instantly the fact that this would be her kind of book. I brought it home and I don’t think 20 minutes went by before she started construction on her own dollhouse. After it was finished (after a fashion) I went online to find out if the publisher or author had a site where kids cold post pictures of their personalized dollhouses. All I found was this promotional video. It’s cute, but why is the mom doing so much of the work? In any case, I would like to propose to either Giselle Potter or Schwartz & Wade that they create such a site. In lieu of that, here’s my 5-year-old’s newest dollhouse.
And, might I note, crumpled up toilet paper really does look like popcorn. Who knew?
Illustrated by Giselle Potter
$17.99, ages 4-8, 32 pages
Ruby can't relate to her eccentric parents and she's determined to be nothing like them -- until one day an offbeat little pet melts his way into Ruby's heart and shows her that being quirky is really okay.
In this wonderful, droll picture book, Harvey tells the story of straight-laced Ruby who gets stuck with a tiny glacier for a pet, when all she really wanted was a dog, something typical, not at all strange like all the stuff her parents like.
Ruby has always felt uptight about her parents' odd professions and unusual past times. Her dad, Mr. Small, sculpts topiaries for a living and is so into it that in the off-season, when he has nothing to do, he trims his beard to look like a crocodile. Her mother, a tiara designer, is equally passionate and can't resist wearing sparkly bands wherever she goes.
Neither one of the Smalls seems to care what anyone thinks, or perhaps they're just oblivious to outside opinion. Either way, Mr. and Mrs. Small blissfully live according to their own whims and in plain view of everyone. So why doesn't Ruby want to live this way too?
On warm summer nights, Ruby sees her parents tangoing cheek-to-cheek across their yard and holes up inside the house and cringes. She prays that no one from school walks by, then pulls the curtains shut and sits down to play with The Three Jennifers, her identical dolls.
Each doll looks exactly like Ruby, strict in look and subdued, with a plain black headband, a brown pinafore and brown shoes, almost like a poster child for self-denial.
And so days go on just like this, with Ruby resisting being eccentric and her parents doing whatever makes them happy.
Then one day, Mr. Small asks Ruby where she wants to go on vacation and tosses up the idea of going to China to see a rosemary plant trimmed into the shape of a mini rhino. "No way," Ruby mutters. But all Mr. Small hears is "Norway," and soon they're in a plane headed there.
En route, Ruby's parents gleefully lob Ping-Pong balls back and forth on their foldout trays, as Ruby looks warily down at her family's passport pictures. Though they look alike, she wonders how they could ever be related -- and realizes that feeling this way has made her lonely.
Perhaps what she needs is a pet. So she asks her parents on the plane if she can get one and being the upbeat people that they are, they say of course. Only now Mr. and Mrs. Small think Ruby should get glow-in-the-dark jellyfish or a flea circus, when all Ruby wants is something cuddly, like a dog.
Being so far apart on what kind of pet to get, the issue is left hanging and they arrive in Norway. There, a tour guide takes them snowmobiling to see a glacier and it begins calving, shedding little bits of itself. Suddenly one of those bits floats away, slides toward Ruby and begins following her like a stray dog.
Ruby, however, isn't at all charmed by the affectionate little lump of ice, and before she knows it, everyone has assumed the little glacier is hers for keeps and Ruby feels like she has no say in the matter.
First Mr. Small asks Ruby to name the glacier, then the tourist guide suggest she call it Cecil after his glacial parent Cecilsmater and when it's time to fly home, her parents slip it into a cooler to carry onto the plane without even asking Ruby if she wants him.
Once home, the glacier isn't so easy to care for. Before going to bed in the cooler, Cecil must eat a dish of pebbles and bathe in ice water, and he always needs grooming. As he slides on the ground, twigs and gum get stuck underneath him and create a mess.
Even though Cecil follows her everywhere, Ruby feels no attachment to him and closes him out of her room, inviting only The Three Jennifers inside. Poor Cecil tries to nudge the door open and ends up leaving a wet patch under the doorknob before sliding off to bed.
Then one day, Cecil follows Ruby to school and risks everything for something Ruby cares about and Ruby realizes that it doesn't matter that he's peculiar -- and really, it's okay that her parents are too.
Harvey's premise is as quirky as Ruby's parents and could easily have seemed over-the-top, had she not developed it in such a clever, funny way -- by playing the extremes of the situation to comical effect.
Ruby's life is not just odd, it's glaringly so. Her parents parade their peculiarities for everyone to see and even Ruby's house and yard draw attention to themselves. The house is painted in pink and yellow stripes and the yard is overrun by topiaries that look like giant green animals.
Ruby is completely overwhelmed by all the oddities that surround her and becomes preoccupied worrying about what her classmates think of her parents -- and by association, her.
So she rebels in a way. She denies herself all sense of individuality, wearing plain, austere clothes similar to what Amish girls wear. And the funny thing is that, in doing this she makes herself odd too.
And now, on top of all of her troubles, along comes a bizarre little pet that just won't leave her alone. This poor girl! How is she ever going to keep her sanity?
Perhaps Ruby just needs to relax a little and accept the love of this little guy no matter what he looks like.
Potter, who has been a favorite illustrator of mine ever since I saw her work in Candace Fleming's 2002 When Agnes Caws, does an amazing job capturing the subtle changes of emotion in Ruby's face as curious things go on around her.
At first Ruby's face is very staid and lost-looking, but as she allows herself to accept the absurdities of her life, Potter adds just enough twinkle in her eyes to make her whole spirit lighten up.
Ruby, like many of Potter's characters, has a saintly look about her face as she regards things very calmly and quietly, but also very deeply, and interestingly Potter studied the paintings of saints in Rome as an art student.
Potter, who also had an unconventional childhood of her own as the daughter of traveling puppeteers, seems to have an intuitive sense of how Ruby feels, how kids like her feel in general.
Though Ruby's situation is far out, many children can relate to feeling, at one time or other, embarrassed by their parents and wishing they were nothing like them -- which makes this book not only relatable but hilarious.
This is a terrific book for helping children let go of inhibitions. It shows that you can't control what others do or what others think of you -- you just have to jump in and be a part of life, and the rest will work its way out.
Mary's fleecy white lamb of nursery-rhyme fame has nothing on Cecil the Pet Glacier. The heroic chunk of compressed ice not only follows its mistress, Ruby Small, to school, it risks its very life performing a daring rescue.
Before this dramatic event occurs, the story opens with a glacier-less Ruby, "a normal little girl" who values conformity. Her eccentric parents test her sanity daily by dancing the tango on the front lawn among the fabulous topiary Mr. Small trims and shapes. Ruby keeps her distance from the pair, staying indoors, curtains drawn, and playing with her trio of dolls, "The Three Jennifers," each one dressed like Ruby in plain brown pinafores.
When the family travels to Norway for vacation, a "tiny, strange-shape glacier" befriends her and follows her around. The attachment is one-sided as Ruby is mortified by the glacier's attention. She looks forward to the end of vacation when she'll be leaving "the ice-pest" behind. Except her parents, delighted with the unusual pet, purchase an ice chest and Cecil travels back home with them. There, Ruby ignores Cecil until the fateful day on the school playground when the little ice floe distinguishes itself by saving one of Ruby's beloved dolls at great cost to itself, earning in the process Ruby's admiration and gratitude.
This quirky picture book exudes charm and the details are spot on. Cecil, for example, is fed a diet of pebbles. "Finicky like a cat, he liked white and black pebbles but wouldn't eat the gray ones." And my favorite line: "He didn't speak, but when he was happy he creaked." Potter's surreal watercolor illustrations are a perfect marriage with Harvey's quirky text.
Cecil the Pet Glacier
by Matthea Harvey
illustrations by Giselle Potter
Schwartz & Wade, 40 pages
Published: August 2012
I love "go to sleep" books. To this day, I can recite Goodnight Moon from memory because it was such a favorite with my entlings before bedtime. It is still my gift of choice as a baby shower gift.
Am I right in my feeling that children's bedtime rituals are being left behind these days? I hope not but frequently, in schools, I meet kids who live almost separate from their families. Each child has a cell phone for individual communication/texting and a computer and television in their bedroom. On different schedules, families often do not even eat dinner together, much less, share bedtime stories and tuck-ins.
I hope this is not indicative of a wider trend because there is something so important and cozy and meaningful about seeing a child safely off to dream land.
In a Blue Room by Jim Averbeck, illustrated by Tricia Tusa, Harcourt 2008
A mother patiently and tenderly sees her little one off to sleep with fragrant flowers on the nightstand, a cozy quilt , and wind chimes. The little girl only likes the color blue and protests at each offering of tea, the quilts, flowers because they are not blue. When the mother turns off the light though, the moon fills the room with a beautiful blue light that Tricia Tusa renders in a soft blue wash.
Averbeck's text rocks as gently as a lullaby as Tusa's scenes grow quieter and quieter.
What a treasure.
Jim Averbeck website
Wynken, Blynken and Nod by Eugene W. Field, illustrated by Giselle Potter, Schwartz Wade Books 2008
I hear my mother's voice when ever I read this poem as it was in my childhood copy of The Bumper Book: A Collection of Stories and Verses for Children. Illustrated by Eulalie (Platt & Munk, 1946.) that she read to us when we were small. The imagery of the wooden shoe remains a vivid childhood memory. Giselle Potter illustrates this classic of childhood using the lines of the poem as part of the action as the young fishermen toss their nets "in the twinkling foam."
Potter includes a note about Eugene W. Field and the history of the poem at the end of the book.
Be sure to read the Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast interview with Potter here.
Giselle Potter website
The Sandman by Ralph Fletcher, illustrated by Richard Cowdrey, Henry Holt 2008
A tiny little man named Tor cannot sleep. One day he finds a dragon scale. As he files down the scale's sharp edge, a breeze blows the scale dust into his eyes which results in "a great wave of sleepiness." When he awakens, he determines that the dragon scale sand can be used to help wide awake children fall asleep. Alas, he needs a supply of them to stay in business so he must go to the dragon's lair to get them.
Richard Cowdrey's illustrations called to me the moment I saw the cover. Tor's tiny home furnishings include a thread spool end table, pencil stub window frames, a thimble cup and a soup ladle bathtub. Cowdry was inspired by Tolkien's Smaug for his double page dragon illustration. Dragon lovers will rejoice at his rendering. The dragon scale sand gleams like emeralds and Tor's mouse-drawn cart is just too adorable. There is warmth and a bow to tradition in Cowdrey's artwork. He is the talent that paints the Guardians of Ga'hoole covers.
The Sandman, (like Jack Frost--see The Stanger by Chris Van Allsburg) does not have many stories told about him. In fact, I cannot think of one. This is a nice addition to bedtime canon.
Ralph Fletcher website
Richard Cowdrey website
A little nepotism to go with your coffee this morning? Don’t mind if I do! As you may know, my husband Matt Bird has a book coming out this spring that is a culmination of his blog’s breakdown of what makes a good story. Called The Secrets of Story: Innovative Tools for Perfecting Your Fiction and Captivating Readers (Writers’ Digest, 2017), Matt takes his Ultimate Story Checklist and makes it easy, accessible, and invaluable. I’ve mentioned all this before. What’s new is that he’s now doing something that I’m personally incapable of. Folks sometimes ask me if I ever do manuscript consultations. I don’t, but there’s a good reason for that: I’m lousy at them. Maybe not lousy, but I’m no editor and that’s the truth. Matt, however, is fantastic at them. Now he’s offering his services to folks who are interested. Children’s books, YA, scripts, adult novels, you name it. Dude’s got mad skills. And I say that as someone who can’t do the same.
AND THE WINNER of the 2016 Society of Illustrators Gold Medal for Original Art goes to . . . . b.b. cronin for his book The Lost House (Penguin Random House/ Viking Children’s Books). Hm? What’s that? You haven’t read it yet? Well let me confess something to you . . . neither had I! I’ve seen it in my To Be Read pile, but as God is my witness I thought it was a reprint of an older title. Now it looks like I’m going to have to move it up in the ranks. Whoops! See the winners in full right here.
Childhood Mystery Solved: I’m pretty sure I’ve zeroed in on the location of Hitler. How’s that again? Well, here’s the thing. When I was a kid I was read a fair number of books. Some stuck in my cranium. Others didn’t. One that did was a book that I recall because it was a collection of poems and nursery rhymes. In one spread it showed the devil and some of his compatriots. Amongst them was a bird with the head of Adolf Hitler. I am not making this up. My mother would sometimes show it to me and explain who it was and why Hitler was bad (or at least that’s my memory). Years later I tracked down what I thought was the book (A Great Big Ugly Man Came Up and Tied His Horse to Me by Wally Tripp) only to find that while it did have a devil in it, there was no Hitler. It was a pretty weird thing to make up, though, so I never lost hope. Then, just the other day, I saw this:
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As always, what a fun post! And congrats to Matt on his forthcoming book! Also, your daughter’s dollhouse is adorable. You’re right–they should have a place where kids can post their own dollhouse creations.
I often think I should do more posts about children’s lit-related news and then inevitably I read your Fusenews, which makes me wonder why I would even entertain the thought when you do such a great job sharing all of this news with us! So, thank you … and darn you for dashing my blogging goals [shakes fist, half in jest]! (In all seriousness, though, thank you for taking the time to compile all of this information for your loyal readers.)
Aw. Thank you. I was a little concerned that this post was 50% me-centric (I do actually try to cut down on that . . . and fail). And if it’s any comfort at all, I feel the same was about the news when I read 100 Scope Notes. Travis has figured that stuff OUT. I still do my own, but I really feel he rules the roost in that category. So dashing blogging goals is a universal situation, yes?
That dollhouse book is going at the top of my gifts-for-niece list!
Ooh, I have Granfa Grig, bought for the stunning illustrations so beautifully drawn and great characterizations! I’ll look for Hitler. The book is full of historical characters–I remember Churchill.
Hitler (with chicken feet and a rat’s tail) is indeed in Granfa Grig, in a scene with the devil, assorted little demon monsters, and Dante and Virgil.
My daughter loves THIS IS MY DOLLHOUSE, too. She has yet to make her own dollhouse, but we did have a tiny bowl of toilet paper popcorn (now spilled all over the playroom floor). Love your pictures! And I agree with you that the kid should do most of the work.
I just read This Is My Dollhouse and those pesky dust jackets get taped down in the library world so I couldn’t discover where the instructions to make your own were. But I still think many kids will be creating dollhouses of their own with inspiration from this book-dust jacket or not.
[…] Childhood mystery […]
Your daughter is a genius with old moving boxes and congrats to Matt!