MotherReader

Last week I saw that A Wrung Sponge was doing this interview meme and, always being one to keep the meme alive, I said I’d play. She had answered questions written for her by a Repressed Librarian, and she wrote these for me. Watch out. They’re deep.

1. What is the thing that most surprises you about being a grown-up?

The amazing, unlimited capacity to love my kids. It’s an experience of love that can’t be compared to anything else. Not loving your parents, your partner, and most certainly not your dog. Those are all wonderful things, but loving your children is watching them grow and change and develop, under your guidance. It’s knowing you’d kill or die for them. It’s experiencing childhood again, but with perspective. It’s giving them the last double-chocolate chip cookie. Well, sometimes.

2. What do you miss most about being a kid?

My kid body. I don’t mean my hot teenage body — though I wouldn’t mind having that waistline again — but the freedom of a body that does everything you ask it without complaint. Really, the freedom of taking your body for granted. Now, even in my (let’s say) mid-thirties, I’m so conscious of my physical self. I get out of bed, and my back hurts. I drop a fork under the table, and I groan while reaching for it. And let’s not even talk about the Slip-and-Slide...

3. What do you look forward to in being a senior?

Time, time, time. I’m so frustrated with having so many things that I want to do and not nearly enough time to do them. I do the things I have to do now, and save the rest. Like I have to be my daughter’s Girl Scout leader now, even if I don’t really have the extra time. But she’s not going need a troop leader when she’s thirty-six and I finally have the time. So I put off a bunch of things I’d love to do — travel, paint, write a book  — to focus on what’s in front of me. It’s just a shame that what’s most clearly in front of me is yesterday’s dinner plates, two weeks’ worth of laundry, and a ten-year collection of Happy Meal toys.

4. What stories do you think your kids will tell their children that they have heard from you?

Since I’ve drilled it into their little brains so much, the story of their differences. I believe that the worst thing about a person is often the best thing about them turned around. My seven-year-old is stubborn and argumentative. However, no one will ever push her around. My ten-year-old worries about everything, especially social norms. However, she has lots of friends because she adapts so easily. I tell them what great luck it is that they are sisters, because all their lives they’ll be able to help each other understand another perspective. Or they’ll kill each other. Either one.

5. If you could put a children’s author and an illustrator together to work on an e-book for fifth graders, who would you choose and why? (They get to write the story and design the artwork as a team.)

This is a very specific question. Are you working on a project? Anyway, after a lot of thought, I’d put together Louis Sachar and Kadir Nelson. What’d I’d like to see is a great story featuring African-American children, but not about civil rights or slavery or prejudice. I think it’s important to have books that talk about the culture and struggles of Black Americans, but that it’s also important that we have books that don’t make color the complete focus. And poor Kadir Nelson needs to get locked into a project before a picture book is written by Chris Rock.

If you want to do the meme, let me know in the comments. I’ll come up with five questions that you can answer on your own blog.

Oh, girls love their unicorn books, don’t they? I came across two unicorn titles in quick succession, the first from the library and the second from the publisher. Let’s take a look.

It’s possible that the beginning reader book Unicorn Wings, by Mallory Loehr, is not very good. But who would notice when each page has fanciful pictures of unicorns and rainbows and roses and butterflies and bluebirds and castles and swans and moonlight on the ocean? If you’ll ever get a sugar high from a book, this is the one.

The unicorn — who for some strange reason in this ultra-girly book is a male — has a horn that can cure, but he really wants wings. He tells the butterflies and bluebirds and swans how he wishes that he had wings. But none of their wings are right for him. Boo. Then he meets a beautiful pegasus, cures her broken wing, and magically gets wings too! Hooray!

My seven-year-old daughter looooved it, even though the text is for a younger reader. It’s a beginning reader book that desperately needs a sequel. Not for me, mind you, but for my daughter.

I’d put Unicorn Races in the same camp. I don’t know that the story of the book is all that it could be, but the illustrations are very sweet. And very purple. Lots and lots of purple. There are other colors too, like blueish purple. (Okay, there are other colors in the book.) Is it because it’s from Purple Sky Publishing? Hmmm.

The story follows a little girl who waits until her mother thinks she’s asleep, and then she beckons her flying unicorn to take her to the magical place where she is the princess of all the fairy creatures. There she oversees the lovely unicorn races and crowns the winner, and then they all have lots of cake and sweets. (Actually, this may be the leading sugar high book.) Then the girl goes home and goes to sleep.

I found the text a little choppy in places, sometimes stilted and formal (though by design), which made the reading awkward. But I don’t know if it even matters, because my daughter looooved this book too. The pictures and story are the stuff of little girl dreams. Little girl princess candy-coated dreams.

The March 2007 issue of The Edge of the Forest is now up, featuring interviews with Newbery Honoree Kirby Larson and with the hilarious Jenny Han. There are also reviews in all categories — from Picture Book to Young Adult. (Don’t miss Brian Farrey’s “Open Letter to Adam Selzer.”) Lots of other features to numerous to mention make this a must-read ’zine.

The Edge includes my new article, “Be a B-List Blogger.” I felt I needed to give some tips back to the book blogging community after being asked so many times about my own rise to B-list fame. Okay, maybe I was asked once. And now that I think about it, the question may have been if I could “go all night long,” but anyway, I took it as a cry for help.

I entered the kidlitosphere in complete and utter naiveté. My husband had been bugging me for a year to get a blog, after the many times I would bug him about including some adult book or some earth-shattering thought of mine on his blog. Then one day I just decided to do a blog about books. We set up the site, and I started writing. I knew nothing of other book blogs. I hadn’t followed blogs at all. I was actually quite surprised to find out how many were out there, and how good they were. While I started writing pretty much for myself and my friends, I soon wanted to be part of the larger community. But how?

The answer to that question is contained in my article at The Edge. Most of the tips came to me along the journey. Some of them were only available to me upon reflection. But I hope that the suggestions can help other bloggers that are struggling with their own road to blog-improvement.

On a personal, related note, in my article I mention that commenting on blogs helps get you noticed, and I want to say to some bloggers who comment here, that I do notice you and I do appreciate your support. I often bookmark blogs that are new to me, and I visit occasionally to see how they’re growing up. I rarely put a blog that is just starting out on my blogroll, because I think everyone needs time to find their voice. And honestly, sometimes I just forget. I am not an organized person, and I am at this point a deeply overwhelmed person, so there are things that just don’t happen. But I am happy that you read MotherReader, and I hope you keep coming back until the day you’re an A-list blogger and I’m begging you for a little blog-time. ’Cause that’s how things roll in the fast-paced, high-stakes world of blogging.

Last week, as I was writing my Shout-Out Sunday post, I kept having the nagging feeling that I was forgetting something. It bugged me all the rest of the day and didn’t come to mind until the next day, when I finally remembered...

READERGIRLZ!

This website has been mentioned a lot, but it’s my turn to give the idea some play. Here’s some information from their press release:

Starting on March 1, readergirlz founders Dia Calhoun, Janet Lee Carey, Lorie Ann Grover, and Justina Chen Headley will unveil a monthly book selection, featuring young adult novels with gutsy female characters. More than just a book club, readergirlz aims to encourage teen girls to read and reach out with community service projects related to each featured novel. As well, readergirlz will host MySpace discussions with each book’s author, include author interviews, and provide book party ideas, including playlists, menus, and decorations.

Each book selection will dovetail to a topic, identified by the readergirlz divas and prominent children’s lit bloggers as topics teen girls should know about in this millennium. The first topic is Tolerance, a theme explored in the kick-off book selection for readergirlz, Nothing but the Truth (and a few white lies). In conjunction with the first novel, teen girls will be encouraged to visit www.tolerance.org to learn how to safely stop bullying and to apply for one of the organization’s Mix It Up grants to break social and racial barriers within their schools.

This past week I learned about the extensive list of coming-of-age books put together by Chasing Ray. If you love your teen angst — and I know that I do — this is a great collection of the best. She’s also identified some key components making it that much easier to find a multicultural, gay character dealing with the death of a loved one. Or something like that.

I read this Meg Cabot post while working at the information desk at the library and had to cover my mouth to hide my laughter as the story kept getting funnier and funnier. It’s definitely for cat lovers, but this is choice stuff with my personal stamp of approval. Thanks to Robin Brande for pointing it out.

Always happy to jump on the Mo wagon (that didn’t sound dirty, did it?), I’d love to promote a project that I saw on his blog. A fan wrote in to mention that there’s a Camel Bookmobile that travels around the bush in Kenya. They invite book donations from authors and others, with picture books being particularly needed. Mo’s in and wants to know who’s going to join him. Well... duh, me. For now I can promote it, but I’ll probably put my Girl Scouts to work collecting books. They’re already collecting books for a middle school in DC, so why not? I don’t get stacks of picture books for review, but I know some of you do. If you want a cool place for them to go, consider the Camel Bookmobile.

For Poetry Friday I’m featuring new(ish) hip(ish) songs that have their own poetry (of sorts). Today’s song as poetry is “1985,” by the band Bowling for Soup. It will probably strike a chord, so to speak, with other thirty-something moms, but the song was big last year with all the kids of those thirty-something moms. Ironic, huh?

Debbie just hit the wall
She never had it all
One Prozac a day
Husband’s a CPA
Her dreams went out the door
When she turned twenty-four
Only been with one man
What happened to her plan?

She was gonna be an actress
She was gonna be a star
She was gonna shake her ass
On the hood of Whitesnake’s car
Her yellow SUV
Is now the enemy
Looks at her average life
And nothing has been all right since

Bruce Springsteen, Madonna
Way before Nirvana
There was U2 and Blondie
And music still on MTV
Her two kids in high school
They tell her that she’s uncool
’Cause she’s still preoccupied
With 19... 19... 1985.

Check out the rockin’ tune at iTunes, and don’t blame me if you start singing it everywhere. Like, say, in the car while you’re driving your daughter and her friends to the ice-skating rink and your daughter says you’re embarrassing her even though her friends clearly think that you are the coolest mom around for knowing all of the words to the song and also seem to appreciate the little dance move you can do while driving, because that’s talent.

Not that I know anything about that kind of situation.

Yesterday I started to write about the scrotum issue as well as my BACA alert, but I was running out of time before work so I had to bag the scrotums. (Was that too easy? It felt like it was too easy.) I hadn’t weighed in on the issue partially because I didn’t feel like I had anything new to add to the discussion and partially because I was juggling too many other personal concerns. It’s hard to care about the scrotum when you have all these balls in the air. (Again, easy.)

When the dust had settled, two posts stood out to me. One was only (let’s see, 5 + 7 + 5 = 17) seventeen syllables long. I’ve debated today whether I would do this blogger a greater service by posting her work here or linking to it, but I’ll link to be safe. Check out Emily Reads on the topic.

The other post that picked up accolades around the kidlitosphere was one by Pixie Stix Kids Pix. In contrast to the seventeen-syllable post, this one feels closer to seventeen pages. It’s very through. It’s also extremely good in describing the whole Scrotum Kerfuffle (I believe that is now the official term, is it not?). When you look at the whole lifespan of the issue, it’s really just nuts. (Still easy.)

The PKP post led me to my point of contention, which is accuracy in reporting. The New York Times finds a few librarians talking on a librarian listserv about whether they should buy a book for their library that they believe has limited appeal — Newbery award or not — and uses a word that could be controversial. The Times takes this and runs with it as if the book is being banned all over the U.S.

If you can’t discuss professional concerns on your professional listserv without being taken to task by the freaking New York Times, then what’s next? I suppose the paper would like to report that we are being visited by Martians because a few people in the city claim they can see the aliens when they wear their aluminum foil hats. Or hey, maybe the media will start giving credence to the few scientists who say that global warming is a big myth and allow that to create a “controversy” over our environmental policies for so many years that the New York Times reporters find themselves kayaking to their office because the island of Manhattan is three feet underwater. But I digress.

In the end, I don’t want to give hell to the librarians who were having a discussion on a semi-private listserv about a book they hadn’t read (almost no one had, since it came out late in 2006) and its appropriateness for their schools (which, if you heard the word “scrotum” out of context, you might — might — wonder about). But the New York Times deserves a little hell for this fake reporting. I certainly hope that someone over there gets the sack (...eh, never mind).

It appears that Jenna Bush has written a book. As founder of BACA, Bloggers Against Celebrity Authors, I know I need to come into the discussion. But I hesitated, and let me tell you why. My personal, primary reason for being against celebrity authors is that I think it’s greedy. If someone is already famous as an actor, singer, and rolling in dough, c’mon, just walk away from children’s literature. Just walk away. My secondary reason is that trading in on your famous name to get big book deals is unfair and kinda annoying.

So Jenna has a book deal. Honestly, I’d cut her some slack on both of my reasons. She’s not famous as an actor or singer and rolling in dough (though I do believe her family is pretty wealthy). She happens to be the president’s daughter, but she hasn’t already made her own personal stamp in the world. Maybe it will be in young adult fiction. I kind of doubt it, but stranger things have happened. So she’s not being greedy in bringing her career into kids’ lit as she has no actual career. Also, while she is trading in on her fame to get a book deal, it’s not her fault that she’s famous. So I’m not really sure I can blame her there either. I’m torn.

However...

The poor girl leaves herself wide open with these two statements (from her interview with USA Today):

“Jenna Bush, in a rare interview, says her forthcoming book for teens — about a 17-year-old single mother in Panama who is living with HIV — will end with a ‘call to action.’”

“She says she ‘very, very modestly’ hopes her book will have some of the influence of two books about girls caught up in the Holocaust: Lois Lowry’s novel Number the Stars and Anne Frank’s The Diary of Anne Frank.”

Oh Jenna, it is terribly unlikely that coming out of the gate as a first-time author that you are going to influence people like Lois Lowry or — Lord have mercy — Anne Frank. I know that you didn’t really mean to imply that you would, but the fact that you said it at all doesn’t give me a lot of confidence in whatever you’re going to write.

As for the “call to action” line, ohmigod! Do you realize how incredibily annoying it is for people living under your dad’s uncaring, uncompassionate, uninspired polices for six freaking years to hear that you want to issue a “call to action” on social issues? You want a call to action? Start with calling your father and talking to him about single mothers, HIV, and foreign aid and then you get back to us.

Thanks to Big A, little a for the all-important BACA alert. Keep up the good work.

Hi! This is MotherReader’s fifth-grade daughter. After reading the picture book Heave Ho! written by Heinz Janisch, I have decided to write a review for it.

Heave Ho! states right from the beginning that it will be told in twelve sentences. Even though it is mostly about having twelve sentences, I think that the story could have been better. It has a story, but it is not elaborate. If a twenty-four-page book only has twelve sentences, they should at least be good sentences. I also think that the pictures are a bit odd. The dog has no bottom lip, the rats have lightning bolts on their heads, and the cat seems to not be “all there.” And why do all the doors have scratches down them?

But on the bright side, it was an original idea, and the story was pretty cute. Overall, I would say that this book is A-OK. So if you happen upon it, you should read it, but don’t go out of your way to get it.

(MotherReader here. She wrote this review — I only did a little bit of editing. She even underlined where she wanted the italics to go. Can you see how she takes after me? I’m pretty much with her on this book, though I didn’t notice the odd things in the pictures. All hail the power of observation.)

Time-Out Tuesday brings you this lovely offering from Threadless, where for a limited time, many T-shirts are ten bucks. For a tenner, I’ll probably pick up this shirt, even though I’m not fond of yellow. I’m very interested in another shirt emblazed with the simple phrase, “I’m a Noun!” Unfortunately, the haiku shirt is not available at this time, but they have many other hip styles, including the literary “Shakespeare hates your emo poems.”

In the The Squampkin Patch, author JT Petty lets us know right away that we’re in for something a little odd. In fact, right from the first paragraph of the first section, “To the Reader”:

“Nasselrogt” is pronounced “Nasel Rod.” This is not as difficult as, say, performing dentistry on an unanesthetized bear, or tying your shoe with one hand. But for teachers, waiting-room attendants, roll callers, and countless others, the pronunciation of Nasselrogt was an insurmountable peak.

If you are the kind of reader who might skip the “To the Reader” section, your introduction begins with Chapter 1, “Duck in the Pants”:

A rack of trousers, a pair of tanning beds, and their own last name conspired to orphan the Nasselrogt children.

After the Great Cheese Grater Fiasco, the Nuked Alaska Ice Cream Debacle, and the Taffy Handkerchief Catastrophe, Milton and Chloe were all out of nannies. So Mr. and Ms. Nasselrogt, despite their busy schedules, had been forced to take their children back-to-school shopping themselves.

As their parents are ignoring them, the kids hide as a joke. When they come out to look for their parents, they are gone. The children end up getting shipped off to the Urchin House, run by Mr. Porifera. When their parents reappear, they can’t find their children, since Mr. Porifera doesn’t recognize the kids’ last name as the parents pronounce it — that is, correctly — and doesn’t find their files. One of my other favorite quotes is about the Urchin House itself:

The front half was white columns and gables; the back half was gray warehouses and smokestacks. It did not look like the marriage of a factory and an orphanage. It looked like a factory had tried to swallow an orphanage, choked, and died with its mouth full.

The children escape and end up at a mysterious house surrounded by a pumpkin patch — or so they think. It turns out that patch holds something strange and frightening that is coming to a head on Halloween.

Though the build-up is to Halloween, I wouldn’t want to lose this book the other eleven months of the year. It is definitely suspenseful, sometimes scary and creepy, too. But it is also filled with dark humor and interesting characters. There was one plot point involving a wall and a large zipper that seemed out of place, but fortunately it was early on in the book. The book shows a very strong Lemony Snicket influence in the writing, which should make it a natural pick for lovers of the Unfortunate Events books — and that includes a lot of kids.

Ages ago I mentioned the cliché rotation project at Defective Yeti, whereby old clichés are moved out in favor of new ones. As it turns out, my own cliché entry was listed on the website. (Old cliché: “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.” New cliche: “If you won’t shake your booty, get off the dance floor.”) The contest was such a hit, that D.Y. is keeping it going for a while. Check out what’s he’s got so far, and start thinking of your own. With all these clever writers in kids’ lit, we should be able to make a good showing. (Another favorite of mine updates “playing second fiddle” to “Jeeves in a Google World.”)

I was pleased as punch (that would be a good cliché to update) to see that Kelly Fineman interviewed Adam Rex, author and illustrator of the fantastic poetry book Frankenstein Makes a Sandwich. Kelly even asks real, in-depth questions that show she might know a thing or two about the author. Now, I don’t always read author interviews, but Adam Rex seems like the kind of person I’d like to hang out with at the neighborhood Chili’s. Though he probably know some hip Brooklyn bar where they hang baby dolls from the ceiling by their feet, so we could go there instead.

Earlier this week I saw this post of when Mo Willems met Dick Bruna. While Mo is my guy now, when I was a little girl my favorite book was Bruna’s The King. I still have my book where I added tears to the king’s face and colored in his bald head after he took off his crown. What caught my attention most in Mo’s description of the visit and the trip to Holland was this sentence: “I showed him some of my work while we discussed minimalism, modernism, Calder (who he used to see in Paris), Shultz (who he spent an afternoon with once), Matisse, color, process, and studio work habits over a lekker cup of tea.” Doesn’t that sound like such an intelligent discussion? I’m having trouble thinking of who my career idol might be, but even if I should find him/her, I doubt our conversation would reach that higher level. My idol as a blogger would probably have to be Dooce, and I bet our talk would run more toward potty training and public tantrums. I don’t have a librarian idol, and even if I did, I’d be more likely to share creepy patron and porn viewer stories. I’ve got to work on this.

I saw this book meme over at Big A, little a, originally created at The Miss Rumphius Effect. Two of my answers were the same as Kelly’s, and I said as much in the comments. She responded in the comments with “Do the meme, MR!” Notice the exclamation point. How can I not do it now? Because when Big A says jump, MotherReader says, “With these jiggly thighs? I think not.”
Anyway, here are the questions:

1. What are your five most important books?
2. What is an important book you admit you haven’t read?
3. What classic (or childhood favorite) was a little disappointing on rereading?
4. What book do you (or did you) care most about sharing with your kids?
5. Name an acclaimed book, either classic or contemporary, that you just don’t like.

What are your five most important books?

This is bound to be embarrassing, because they’re not very smart books, but I picked the books that I thought most influenced some aspect of my life.

• Illusions, by Richard Bach, is the tale of a reluctant messiah. It’s a very interesting, if very seventies, story about the power within yourself. It also has lots of wonderful quotes from The Messiah’s Handbook, like, “If you will practice being fictional for a while, you will understand that fictional characters are sometimes more real than people with bodies and heartbeats.”


• Cosmos, by Carl Sagan, is also from my youth. It was a book I read when I was trapped in the intellectual pithole of the mountains of Virginia. It’s the book that reminded me to keep challenging myself.


• Hobbit/Lord of the Rings are getting put together as one big book, because who’s gonna stop me? These books expanded my world to include worlds I could imagine.


• Bridget Jones’ Diary may seem like an odd choice, but it’s the matriarch of chick lit. It’s the first book to really be funny and light in a woman’s sort of way, and I like the freedom of that sort of writing. The book was published just when I had a baby, and the books that I used to read were too heavy for my sleep-addled brain to handle.


• Raising Your Spirited Child also may seem like an odd choice, but when you’re a mom with a fiesty two-year-old, this book can be a saving grace. It made me realize that all techniques for tantrums and limits don’t work with all children. I was able to handle both of my spirited children with far more talent than I would have without this book.

What is an important book you admit you haven’t read?

Probably almost any important adult book you can name — other than the ones that you had to read in high school. I am woefully undereducated in classic literature. I looked at the shelves yesterday to think of the kids’ book that it would be most embarrassing to admit to skipping, and I landed on this revelation. I had never read anything by Roald Dahl until this year, when I read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I know, shocking.

What classic (or childhood favorite) was a little disappointing on rereading?

Kelly and I have the same one here, Little House on the Prairie. The writing style is not strong and all the racial things made me squirm.

What book do you (or did you) care most about sharing with your kids?

This was the other place I agreed with Kelly naming Winnie-the-Pooh. I’m afraid all the Disney crap has made people believe that this is a book for toddlers, when the books are really quite funny and sophisticated. I’d also add the Raggedy Ann Stories, because I loved them as a kid.

Name an acclaimed book, either classic or contemporary, that you just don’t like.

Okay, say it with me folks...Tulane.

I tag anyone who wants to be tagged. Oh, oh! You know who I tag? Brotherhood 2.0. If you haven’t been following the video blog of John Green and his brother Hank Green, you have been missing something special. Go. Go, watch it now.

It’s Dr. Seuss’s birthday and it’s Poetry Friday, so that’s cool. A Wrung Sponge is collecting your favorite lines from Dr. Seuss, with bonus points for those done off the top of your head. I did have to peek, because I needed to make sure I had it exactly right. I added the last few lines of the beginning of The Cat in the Hat Comes Back.

All that deep,
Deep, deep snow,
All that snow had to go.
When our mother went
Down to the town for the day,
She said, “Somebody has to
Clean all this away.
Somebody, SOMEBODY
Has to, you see.”
Then she picked out two Somebodies.
Sally and me.

My mother used those last lines a lot whenever she was assigning my brother and me chores. I still think of it often. It particularly fits today as it is a lovely sixty degrees and the last bits of snow are indeed going.

Last year I wrote an Ode to Seuss, and I’m going to copy it in here again. First of all, it’s perfect for the merging of Poetry Friday and Dr. Seuss’s birthday, and secondly, I have more readers now who may not have seen it. Oh, and it’s a work of art, I tell you.

Ode to Seuss
The sun did not shine
It was too wet to play.
So I sat by the computer
All that cold, cold, wet day.

I sat with my blog.
We sat there, just deuce.
And I said, “How I wish
I could rip off Dr. Seuss.”

Then I looked up,
And saw him step in on the mat!
I looked up. I saw him!
The Cat in the Hat!

(Or it could have all been
in my head, not a fact.
I’d taken two Advil
And at least four Prozac.)

The Cat said,“Now why
Do you sit there so gloomy?
Your house looks quite clean
Your playroom quite roomy.”

I said, “It’s my blog,
I need something to write.
I can find no inspiration
At least not by tonight.”

“Inspiration, you want.”
(sounding kind of like Yoda)
“Open your eyes,” he said,
“And get me a soda.”

“All that you’re looking for
Is here on this shelf.
You don’t need any more,
You can get it yourself.”

And then all the titles
Popped right out at me
With a surreal neon glimmer.
(Note: Avoid LSD.)

Oh, Say Can You Say?
The Foot Book, ABC,
Hop on Pop, Mr. Brown,
The Shape of Me.

Horton, and Yertle
The Lorax and Grinch
The King’s Stilts, Mulberry Street
Oh, this was a cinch!

I turned then to thank him,
That Cat in the Hat.
I turned then to thank him
But he’d have none of that.

Then putting a finger
Aside of his nose,
He gave me a wink
And up the chimney he rose!

(Sorry about that —
A little Xmas got in.
Guess I shouldn’t have taken
That third Vicodin.)

Let me say to you all
Dr. Seuss broke the mold,
Giving us the best books
For all of time told.

From America to Uruguay
Readers, thinkers, let loose.
Take a moment to say,
Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss.

Don’t forget to send the Cat in the Hat a birthday card at Seussville, where a book will be donated to First Book for every card received. If you haven’t heard it yet, you may want to try out Dylan Hears A Who for a bit of the surreal in your life. Big A, little a is doing the Poetry Round-Up today, which includes a special guest star.

I had so many suggestions for Thursday — Thematic Thursday, Therapeutic Thursday, Theme-Song Thursday — that I can choose as I go. Today I’m using Thoughtful Thursday as my anchor for today’s post about parents.

Yesterday I heard a mom arguing with her two-year-old for ten minutes about leaving the library. Hear that: ARGUING WITH HER TWO-YEAR-OLD. The mom was ready to leave and twoer was clearly not. I was an innocent bystander, collecting books for my next program. There was counting: “I’m going to count to three...” And pleading: “Mommy’s really ready to go home now...” And even some bitterness: “Well, Mommy doesn’t get to do what Mommy wants to do most of the time.” There may have even been some despair over lost opportunities: “Mommy could have been a background singer for Celine Dion, but instead here she is in purple velour sweatpants trying to haul your dream-killing butt out of the public library so Mommy can get home to the little orange pills that make it all seem fine.”

Come to think of it, that last one may have been me.

Anyway, I realized that my being the only other person in the children’s area might be contributing to the problem, because maybe the mom was feeling awkward with a staff member right there. So I left, and as I was telling my coworkers that the mom might be coming behind me with a screaming kid, the mom did pick up the kid, who did indeed scream. Considering the whole thing finished, I went into the back room.

But here’s the kicker: When I came out of the back room thirty minutes later, the mom was just then checking out! Was she honestly negotiating with her two year old for forty minutes? Did someone forget to tell her that SHE’S THE MOTHER?

When did parents forget to be parents?

I may be annoyed by the tantruming kid in the store or library, but I’m still sympathetic deep down in my heart. I know that any kid, any mom can have a bad day or even a bad period. The tantrum itself isn’t indicative of the parenting, though how it is handled can be. My oldest was a big tantrum kid coming up on three years old. But when I had to, I carried her screaming body out. I still remember the day I had to carry her out of the mall, wrapped around my body under both arms as she tried to kick and scream, while I pushed her sister in the baby stroller. Good times. But I tell you that so you know that I’m no stranger to strong reactions to the phrase, “We need to go home now.” Tantrums aren’t fun to watch as the mother or a random person in Kohl’s trying to find a pair of jeans that don’t shout how you’ve given up looking hot. But tantrums by themselves are not nearly as bad as seeing a mom hand over control to someone who hasn’t even maintained control of his bowels yet.

Is it fair to give your kid a little heads-up that you’re leaving soon? Sure. Is it helpful to offer constructive choices surrounding your departure? Can be. Is it useful to argue the finer points of your departure with a two-year-old? NONONONONO!!!

These parents are often in my storytimes as well, but fortunately I can usually hold their kids’ attention. But when I can’t, I watch them asking the kids nicely to not bang on the carts or not climb on the stacks of chairs in the middle of my reading. I want so badly to put down the book and show them how to handle their kids. Because it’s possible that instead of asking from ten feet away for the kid to stop, you need to get up and physically remove the kid from said cart or chairs. Sometimes I think that I would do far more good showing parents how to parent their child then I can do showing them how to read to their child, but then that wouldn’t be fair to the majority of parents and kids who are listening nicely.

Actually, one of the times I did suggest to a mom that she take her child out of the storytime and return when he was ready, she complained — not to my supervisor, or even the library branch manager, but to the director of the entire library system. While I didn’t get in trouble per se, everyone in the entire chain of command knew about this complaint. So even though the people I work with directly knew the whole thing was crazy — I’m really a nice person — I’m sure it left doubts with the people who didn’t know me. It just adds a whole other level to the parenting crises. Not only will these people not control their own children, if you try to suggest they do so, you can get a black mark by your name in the Big Job Book.

It’s scary for the future to see how much power parents are putting in their kids’ hands. Want to play a little game? Go to a playground or busy children’s section of the library or bookstore and count the number of times you hear parents say, “Okay” — as in, “We’re going to go home soon, okay?” It has become a verbal tic for parents who think it softens their statement (“We’re going to go home soon”), but is really asking permission of their child (“Okay? No, not okay,” the kid thinks). Parents are afraid to be seen as harsh or mean, so instead they get played like the Wiggles keyboard in front of KB Toys.

A great book for moms struggling with their inner meanie is The Three-Martini Playdate. The book reminds us, in a very tongue-in-cheek way, how to be the parent in a number of situations from birthday parties to bedtime, diaper bags to dinner out. Hopefully moms will laugh reading the insert for Our Little Tot’s First Martini Recipe, but the serious message contained within the book is the concept — how revolutionary — of being the person in charge.

Squeaking in under the wire with two Wee Ones (yeah, a little lame) Wednesday titles. They’re not new, and they’re not really related, except in my own mind — and in my review files. I’m off to some Girl Scout leader thing shortly, and these were calling to me, already written and waiting for their day in the sun. I had something else New and Exciting to do, but I kinda took a nap after work instead. So anyway...

Adèle & Simon, by Barbara McClintock, has gotten rave reviews for its old-fashioned look and meticulous drawings. And here I’ll agree. The drawings are amazingly detailed. It does make the Where’s Waldo? aspect of the book appropriately challenging. As Simon goes home with Adèle, along the way he loses his drawing, or hat, or coat, and the missing item is always in the picture somewhere.

But with everything going on in each scene, the items are pretty hard to find — even the second time through the book. At the back of the book is a little more information about the Parisian scene represented. It’s a beautiful, interesting book. I’m just not sure that kids of the Disney-color, videogame-graphic generation love the book as much as adults do.

Looking for a Moose, by Phyllis Root, is another Where’s Waldo? kind of book, but with moose parts. Mind you, the moose parts are still on the moose, but you can’t see the whole moose until the very end of the book. A group of four kids go looking for a moose, kind of in the we’re-goin’-on-a-bear-hunt way through the woods, the swamp, the bushes, and the hills. Along the way, sharp-eyed readers will be rewarded with views of moose legs, moose noses, moose antlers, and moose backs. But then at the end there are lots and lots of moose. (Mooses? Meese? It never sounds right, does it?)

The text has a sing-song ring to it. “Have you ever seen a moose — a long-leggy moose — a branchy-antler, dinner-diving, bulgy-nose moose?” and, “We look in the woods — TROMP STOMP! TROMP STOMP! — the treesy-breezy, tilty-stilty, wobbly-knobbly woods.” One of the best parts of the book for me is that the four children are of color — various shades of color, from very light skinned with brown hair to very dark with black hair. I’m always interested in a book with children of color that doesn’t make it about being children of color.

The title would be a fun read-aloud for a smaller group. The thing that might make it harder for a larger group is that the kids wouldn’t be able to spot the moose throughout the book, and some of the pictures don’t have a lot of contrast — they are mostly shades of brown, orange, and green — which might make it hard to see the pictures. But overall, a great book.

Okay, gut reaction on the hardcover of No Shame, No Fear: Imagine you’re a teenage girl scanning the shelves, looking for a good read. You pull out this book with a grayish, subdued cover. The title sounds all right, but the girl on the cover with her back turned isn’t all that engaging.

But now this. This is what I’m talking about: Forged in the Fire. Whereas the last image left you a little cold, this makes you hot, hot, hot. And it’s not just the fire on the bottom, echoed in the fancy scrolled letters of the title. No, that guy on the cover is a genuine hottie.

No Shame, No Fear sets up the story of a Quaker girl in the 1660s. In England, the Quakers find themselves persecuted by the government and picked on by the citizens, but they remain steadfast in their quiet, worshipful ways. Enter William, son of a rich man, who runs into Susanna by chance. He can’t get her out of his mind, and seeks her out. As he gets to know her — quite respectfully — he develops a deeper interest in her religion and way of life, quite at odds with his own pampered existence. Solid historical fiction with a love story/religion thing.

Forged in the Fire continues the story as William goes to London, hoping to make his way in the world without an apprenticeship and with hopes that he can marry Susanna. More religion and less love story, as the two are separated for most of the book. It’s a shame, really, because the romantic tension is pretty well dissipated with them in two different cities. Susanna’s parts of the book — the books are both told in alternating chapters — get a little lame, since she’s not doing much more than waiting. William’s sections focus on the terrible treatment of the Quakers, and then the plague hits London and things really get bad.

Both books were interesting reads. Both books open up questions of religious persecution and the nature of faith. Though readers looking at this book for a Christian book club should be warned that there is some, ahem, first-time lovemaking involved in the second book.

I did find the differences in the covers amusing. Candlewick must have learned its lesson though, because the paperback version looks like this. Closer, most definitely, in tone to the Forged in the Fire cover. So good job. But it’s going to be hard to beat the cute guy. Hey, I actually asked to review the book based on that cover — that’s got to be something, right? Forged in the Fire comes out March 13th.

My kids did go to school today, and I think we can all be thankful for that. Me, most obviously, for my free time. You, less obviously, for the sanity of this blogger. There was a two-hour delay, which was most appreciated after a late night watching the Academy Awards.

I can’t say why I was watching the Oscars, since the only¹ film I’d seen that received any big nominations was Little Miss Sunshine (which totally rocks). Man, I remember the glory days of my moviegoing, when I would have seen up to three of the mentioned movies. In any case, I thought Ellen DeGeneres did a great job hosting, and now I know what movies I should watch, so that’s helpful.

After mentioning my organizing ideas for daily posts yesterday, I’m in the mood to give it a try, making today Middle Grade Monday. Timing is on my side, having recently received and read the new book from Sara Pennypacker, The Talented Clementine.

I put last year’s offering of Clementine among my best books of the year, if not among my best books ever. Sharp and funny, but always respectful of the age of of the character and the audience, the new book keeps up the Clementine we all grew to love. This time, Clementine’s class is going to have a talent show, but Clementine can’t think of a talent to share. Her family tries to be helpful, but they can’t solve her problem. Ultimately, it’s Clementine and her caring principal who realize her true talent and use it to its full advantage.

The funny girl we fell in love with in the first book is definitely back right from the very first line:

I have noticed that teachers get exciting confused with boring a lot. But when my teacher said, “Class, we have an exciting project to talk about,” I listened anyway.

She also gives us an insight into the importance of dictionaries with this question to her principal:

“I’ve been wondering what the difference is between smashed and crashed.”

Mrs. Rice handed me her dictionary.

And then suddenly I didn’t want to know anymore! That is the miracle about dictionaries!

Or this:

In school, my teacher started in with the “Talent-Palooza” business so fast I thought it was the new last part of the Pledge of Allegiance.

“with liberty and justice for all and I know we’re all very exited to get to our big project,” he said. So it was too late for my secret plan of hypnotizing him into forgetting.

Marla Frazee is also back as the illustrator, lending her incredible talents to capturing Clementine and her world. Unfortunately for me, in the ARC the pictures stop about halfway through, but it will let me look forward to the release of the book on April 1 — and that’s no April Fools Joke! (Hahaha. I crack myself up.)

To ease my highly disorganized mind, I’m always sure that I’ll establish a set pattern for posting that will actually make my life easier. You know, like Middle Grade Monday, Teen Tuesday, Wee Ones Wednesday (okay, I just made that one up this very second), and so on. It seems like it would be so much easier to be organized that way. With that system in place, I’d have a Shout-Out Sunday.

But I’m a free spirit and ultimately disorganized. I post about what I want, when I want. I forget stuff. I let books slip through the cracks. I don’t always follow through on things. I commented on a few posts that linked to this month’s Carnival, thanking them for the links. But I never got around to them all. So thanks to all who linked to the 11th Carnival of Children’s Literature, as well as to those who participated.

I made some changes to my blogroll, but I didn’t elaborate on a few changes that could have used a little elaboration. So let me say now that I’ve enjoyed Miss Erin’s blog for a while, but her interview with Yellow Star author Jennifer Roy really impressed me. Boom! On the blogroll. Robin Brande is the one author that I have neither met nor seen here as a frequent commenter, but she is on my blogroll now, based almost entirely on this comment to the Seven Impossible Things self-interview:

Thanks for interviewing yourselves! You’re right, it is nice to learn a little about the people behind the blogs. For example, I was convinced Eisha was a short, black woman. Don’t even ask me why. I had this whole wardrobe and hairstyle picked out for you and everything. Now I’ll have to recut all the paper dolls.

At the “recut all the paper dolls” line, I knew that Robin must be a best friend I just didn’t know yet. Kiddosphere has been running a nice blog actually affiliated with her public library in a system very close to my own. She fuels my dream that one day, not only will my library system acknowledge my existence, but will tap into my knowledge and let me blog for them.

I’d also like to draw attention to a blog that’s been on my blogroll for quite a while. If you haven’t visited A Wrung Sponge recently, I’d have you take a look. What makes her blog stand out is that she writes mostly about books with African and African-American themes and books featuring children of color. As a white mother having adopted two black boys, she is conscious of finding books that reflect their experience, educate them as to their history, and celebrate them in their culture. She’s separated out her adoption/family-type posts to another blog and has focused A Wrung Sponge on books and original poetry and photos. While I liked hearing about her family, I think focusing her blog makes her a stronger voice of diversity in the kidlitosphere.

To change the subject entirely, I’ll give a little personal update. My kitty cat who was so sick is doing fine. Very pleased about that. My kids had snow days from school that ended up rivaling their Christmas break for days spent home. Today we’re looking at a surprise snow that has a fair chance of closing school tomorrow. I’ve got to come up with something for these kids to do, because I’ve run out of ideas and stamina. Don’t be surprised if I let them run the blog tomorrow.

I loved this book when I first saw it a year ago. (Pause to look at the date stamped in the back.) Crap, two years ago. I don’t know that I can verify that it captures the feel of an urban school, but I do know that it really captures the feeling of third graders. Feeling pride in an eighth birthday. Worrying about losing a best friend to another girl in the class. Daydreaming. Saving a seat at lunch. Each poem is told from the point of the view of one of the kids in the class, most of whom are African-American. Oh, and the illustrations are also perfect.

So for the last Poetry Friday of Black History Month, I’d like to share a poem from Karen English’s book, Speak To Me (And I Will Listen Between The Lines).

The Reading Boy [Malcolm]

Omar came on Monday
We liked him quick because he can read
As good as the teacher

Tyrell looked at him long and hard
As the river of words flowed out of his mouth
On one breath
The reading boy

Lamont asked to change his seat
To the one by the reading boy
Who sang the words off the page

Teacher asked him a question
And everyone listened
He is the one who reads.

This particular poem means even more to me after seeing an article in the Washington Post Magazine about a third-grade teacher who started at a D.C. school, and realized that none of her students could read yet. In my suburban community, we obsess (it seems) about our kids reading the “right books.” It seems even more ridiculous when you look across the river at a community that needs inspiration and resources.

Liz at Tea Cozy is doing the Poetry Friday round-up today. I think I should get bonus points for writing this post this morning instead of, ahem, showering before work. Hey, I didn’t have time to do both, and I’m only at the library four hours today. Don’t judge me.

Oh no! I almost missed Blogroll Updating Week!

Blogroll Updating Week was created by a now-defunct blog, A Weasel-Ball Suggestion, in 2003, when most of our blogs were not yet a twinkle in our eyes. It’s set aside as a time to check your blogroll links, dump the dead blogs, and add new blood. The week after President’s Day was chosen to allow bloggers to use the lamest Federal holiday on the calendar to update their blogs before the blogging “high season” of spring.

Okay, I made that paragraph up. But it’s still a great idea to check our links, clear out the old, and make room for the new.

After the New York City trip, I had a minor epiphany. I decided to add writers to my blogroll, but only writers that I have met — either in person or online. Other blogs, like Big A, little a, have very long lists of blogging writers, and I’ll direct you there for a more complete inventory. I’ve moved a few blogs from the book section to the writer section, where they seemed to fit.

I’ve added a few book blogs that I’ve been looking at for a little while. Now that the template changes for Blogger don’t require an entire republishing of the content, I’ll probably add a few more in the next few days. If anyone has a suggestion for funny mommy blogs, I’d love to hear it. Ditto funny-ish adult book blogs. (But not an “adult book” blog.)

Since I visit my blogroll friends just about every day, I don’t include every book blog out there. I tend to keep it for blogs that update daily or almost daily. I also tend to watch a blog for a while before adding it. Again, other blogs, like Big A, little a do keep pretty complete lists of book blogs. But if you think I’m missing something crucial, let me know.

February’s a month chock full of themes. Valentine’s Day leads us to themes of love. President’s Day leads us to themes of American history and the presidency. Groundhog Day leads us to themes of rodents. It’s a month dedicated to profiling Black History. It’s a month linked to cold and snow and icicles. We even got Chinese New Year in the mix this time. So rounding up posts this month should be easy. Y’know, as compared to March. What’s March got? Leprechauns? Soooo lame.

However, these themes of the month — these multiple themes of the month — generally did not seem apparent in the posts I received for the carnival.

Yes, HipWriterMama shares a lovely snow day post.

WordSwimmer looks at Show Way in connection to black history. And Mitali Perkins points out a powerful film on the black experience of girls and children.

The Kiddosphere gives us Chinese folktales with Three Ninety Eight Thursdays Go to China and Reflect on Folktales in General. As does A Wrung Sponge in her post, Gung Hai Fat Choi.

Bookwink presents a video booktalk on love and the hilarious mix-ups caused by Cupid. I proclaim my love, of a sort, again.

But as it turns out, February isn’t confined by its noted themes. Its many, many noted themes. No indeed. It’s a month of reflection and quiet times. It’s a month to…

Write a book:
Big A, little a invites us to a wiki novel.

See an old book in a new way:
GottaBook writes a new Oddaptation.

See a really old book in a new way:
The Common Room presents Childrens’ Book: Dollie’s Big Dream, or The Man of Mirth.

See the movie too:
DigitalRich presents DigitalRichDaily: Unanswered Questions.

Be part of a community:
Midwestern Lodestar writes about the kidlitosphere.

Rest and renourish:
Liz In Ink presents Empty Baskets.

Tackle a tough issue:
Megan Bayliss presents Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast.

Be inspired to write a poem:
Kelly Fineman shares the nature of poetry.

Think about a poem:
Alone on a Limb presents A Poem to Start the Week: Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening.

Juxtapose two poems:
Chicken Spaghetti shares a mash-up of Odysseus and “17 Things I’m Not Allowed to Do Any More.”

Reflect on first reading experiences:
Babylune presents Our Little Literary Awakening.

Reflect on book characters:
Miss Erin presents Love-to-hate characters.

Read a good book:
Tea Cozy’s Liz B reviews The Braid.
Trinity Prep School’s Maureen reviews Gregor the Overlander.
My Domestic Church reviews Trumpet of the Swan.
Gail Gauthier reviews The Good Fairies of New York.

Read books about reading a book:
A Year of Reading gives us the The Master List of Books About Books and Reading.

Decide to read the Best Books Ever:
Semicolon starts the Newbery project with The Golden Fleece.

Buy a book, before it’s too late:
Melissa Wiley talks about books going out of print, including her own.

Visit a reading theme:
Readable Feast presents The Super Bowl of activities and books.

Visit a genre:
Check It Out explores The Fantasy Genre.

Or indulge in a favorite genre:
Little Willow gives us a list of Coming-of-Age Novels.

Or a favorite author:
Scholar’s Blog presents Philip Pullman on Narrative.
Whimsy Books presents The One and Only Rosemary Wells.
Penny Richards presents Jane Yolen.
Trivium Pursuit presents Home-Spun Artists: Historical Sketches — Beatrix Potter.

Meet someone new:
Cynthia Leitich Smith presents Author Interview: Brenda Ferber on Julia’s Kitchen.

Support a serious cause:
Chasing Ray gives us a use for Young Adult books.

Or a silly one:
MotherReader asks us to kick celebrity writers to the curb.

Reflect on endings:
Wands and Worlds writes about The end of an era.

Follow a passion:
Barbara Bietz shares her writing passion.

Celebrate the child within:
Jen Robinson presents Being Childlike (No, Not Childish).

And even add something last-minute:
Book Moot explains the difference between concerned parents vs. book-banning know-nothing nutters.

Thanks to everyone for participating in this month’s Carnival. Next month’s Carnival is accepting submissions at the website at any time. Though you might want to wait until you’ve had a chance to write something spectacular. Maybe about leprechauns.

Sixty hours later, I’m back with my review of Lisa Graff’s book. How’s that for delayed gratification?

Georgie is a dwarf. That’s the thing about him. But that’s not what ultimately defines him. He’s a boy who’s having trouble with his best friend. He’s a kid who is stuck with a difficult partner for a school report. He’s a son who loves his parents, but worries what a new baby will do to his family. Georgie does face particular challenges, but he also sees the challenges that everyone faces all around him.

In The Thing About Georgie, the chapters are often introduced by a description of what it’s like to be a dwarf. This narrator asks us to reach our arms over our heads, measure ourselves against a wall, and hold our tongue with our fingers. These exercises engage the reader in understanding Georgie much better than a mere description would have done. In the end, these opening segments relate to the story in an even more integral way.

In many children’s books these days you’ll find that the adults are useless, selfish, stupid, or cruel. Not so in this book. The adults are caring, kind, and supportive. They do occasionally disappoint, but not with intention or thoughtlessness. It’s refreshing to read a book that doesn’t pit the kid against the parents.

The Thing About Georgie is a book about a dwarf, but it’s more about growing up like any kid in elementary school with regular kid problems. Overall, it was fun and interesting getting to know Georgie.

I meant to put up the review of The Thing About Georgie yesterday, but I just couldn’t do it. I need to feel inspired to write, and instead I felt inspired to take long naps and bitch at my kids. It’s been a long week.

You see, it snowed here on Tuesday. Actually, it was more sleet than snow. The kids were dismissed early and we spent the rest of Tuesday afternoon together, enjoying the free time. My library even closed for the evening, so I didn’t have to go to work. Yeah! Snow day for everyone!

I wasn’t surprised that school was closed on Wednesday, because the side roads were covered with a thick, heavy snow/sleet combo. I also stayed home from work with the kids and shoveled our driveway. The thing is, the snow/sleet combo was very heavy, and I am not so much in shape. I was able to clear out much of the driveway down to the street, but didn’t manage our sidewalk. The plow came through our street once, leaving one lane clear, but not two. By the time my husband got home from work, this snow/sleet combo was frozen tundra.

I give you all these details, because it is relevant to what happened on a wider scale all over the county. The plows hit the main street hard, but only cleared a single lane down all the side streets. I’m sure the plan was to come back later. But by the time they did, it wasn’t snow anymore, but a two inch thick layer of ice firmly attached to the roads. Normally, the ground here is warmer and helps melt the ice, but not after this cold snap. Also, most of the menfolk — and many of the womenfolk — went to work on Wednesday instead of clearing the sidewalks, driveways, and roads. By the time the DC work day was over, it was too late to shovel.

The upshot is that the schools were closed on Thursday and Friday as well, because the buses couldn’t get through the unpaved side streets and the sidewalks were too icy for walking to school. I mean, someone might sue if they fell. The schools may even be closed tomorrow, because nothing has changed over the long weekend. It hasn’t warmed up at all, and it’s impossible to clear off this snow. I know, because I watched my neighbor go at it with a metal shovel and a sledgehammer.

In the middle of this mess, my cat got very sick. After vet bills that could pay for plane tickets to London, it’s still pretty dicey. I want this cat to live because I love her, but also because now it’s an investment. I didn’t pay this much money for the cat to die in the end. No way. Not gonna happen. Even if I have to squirt watered down baby food down her throat and give her subcutaneous fluids with a needle and an IV bag, which we’ve been doing all weekend.

So the kids have been home almost as long as their Christmas vacation. It could have been restful, except for the whole cat thing. Oh, and did I mention when I went to work on Saturday the computers were all down? It is exhausting to answer questions for people all day when you can’t look anything up. Questions that would be easy peasy with a computer are a huge pain without one. Books on homing pigeons. The hierarchy of human needs. The author of a new book called You’ve Never Heard This Title.

I spent all Sunday in my PJs — which I never do  — put together the Carnival post and stared off into space. I didn’t even read a book. I didn’t even read.

Today the sun is shining. Whether it can help the roads remains to be seen, but it’s helping my mood. The cat ate a little on her own today, which is very good. I think the whole family is going bowling to get out of the house. The Carnival post is mostly done, and will be up tomorrow.

This post turned out longer than I thought it would. Sorry about that. It’s no longer a good introduction to the book, so I’ll give it a separate post. But, hey, it was nice to vent for a while.

The problem with being almost last on an author’s seven-day blog tour is that all the good questions are taken. As the week went by, I saw all my questions posted here and there and here again. Big A, little a hit most closely to home using two questions specific to the book that were also on my thought list. I was glad to see that I was on the same page as the fantastic Kelly by wondering about (a) how did she mangage to make the book mostly about regular life problems, while having a character with such personal issues of being a dwarf, and (b) while other books make adults stupid, silly or useless, why did she have her book make them kind, well-meaning and supportive? I also may have said, in my head, “son of a bitch.” (Kidding, Kelly.)

However, the problem of interviewing after everyone else — with the additional issue of being asked to interview another author within the same time period — led me to a breakthrough. I now have a standard interview. It’s back-to-the-basics kind of questioning, but I like it because it is open to interpretation and should work for everyone.

Now, as a bonus for the book tour, the first three people to email thethingaboutgeorgie@harpercollins.com (it should say “Georgie Giveaway” in the subject line) with their name, address, and the blog where they saw my interview that day (i.e., MotherReader) will get a copy of The Thing About Georgie. Yay!

Let me present the lovely and talented Lisa Graff.

---

When did you start writing?

I’ve written just for fun since I was in elementary school, and I attempted to write my first novel when I was 14. But I guess I started taking myself seriously as a writer my junior year of college. I was studying in Italy, and for a year-long language project one of my professors helped me translate a children’s novel I’d written into Italian. It worked wonders for my Italian vocabulary, but it also gave me a unique in-depth look at my process of stringing words together and telling a story. That project made me realize that I had a very long way to go before my books would be something other people would want to read, but it also made me realize how much I loved telling stories, and how important it was to me to get better at it.

Where do you do your best thinking?

I get a lot of ideas when I’m on the subway or walking around the city. I think my subconscious is always chugging away at things, and it just takes a small spark of something to give me an idea. Living in New York is perfect for that, because there are interesting things going on everywhere you look. When I was in the midst of revising The Thing About Georgie two summers ago, I had been desperately trying to come up with a way to demonstrate Georgie and Andy’s strong friendship, while simultaneously thinking up some catalyst for their big fight, but I couldn’t find anything that worked. Then one evening I left my apartment to do laundry, and I passed a woman walking five Bichon Frises — and just like that, I knew that Andy and Georgie should run a dog walking business. (Who knows how the book would have turned out if I’d seen someone making balloon animals or training monkeys to roller skate or something…)

Who inspires you personally and/or professionally?

At my day job (I work as an editorial assistant at a children’s book publisher) I get to interact with a lot of writers on a regular basis. When I first starting working there, I was always hesitant when I had to call authors on the phone, because they seemed like these unapproachable geniuses to me, and how would they respond to me, the lowly assistant/wannabe writer? But they’re all so nice and friendly... it almost makes you forget they really are geniuses. It’s great to be around people like that, whose work you admire, and whom you really enjoy talking to as well.

Why did you need to write this book?

I have no idea, honestly. People often ask what inspired me to write Georgie, and the truth of the matter is that writing about a boy with dwarfism just sounded interesting at the time. It wasn’t until a few months ago that I realized that what I had actually written about was a topic that has interested me my whole life. Really, I think Georgie is about perception — the way others perceive us and if that affects how we perceive ourselves. The book was a way for me mull over topics that had been on my mind me for a long while.

How does this book reflect your own life experience?

Well, my life is very different from Georgie’s in a lot of obvious ways. For one thing, he’s a dwarf and I’m very tall. I often got teased or stared at because of my height, but not nearly to the extent that Georgie is singled out for his dwarfism. I’ve also never had a dog walking business or been in a play about the U.S. presidents. But some things are based on experience. Andy’s Italian family, for instance, is loosely based on the host family I lived with when I first began studying in Italy. And I think Jeanie the Meanie is the girl I would have been if I hadn’t been so shy when I was little. I was always bursting with opinions to tell people — some of them quite mean — but I was too much of a coward to let any of it out. Writing Jeanie’s character was a lot of fun (and a little bit cathartic) for me, because I could have her say and do anything at all.

What’s next for you?

My next novel is called The Life and Crimes of Bernetta Wallflower, and it’s in the midst of copyediting and design right now. Those are nice stages for me as an author because it’s mostly sit-back-and-relax on my part. The book is about a twelve-year-old girl who, after having been framed by her ex-best friend for running a school-wide cheating ring at her private school, takes up conning shoppers at the local mall to earn back her lost scholarship money. It’s very heisty, in the tradition of The Sting or Ocean’s Eleven, and it should be a lot of fun. It comes out in January 2008.

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I’ll actually have to review The Thing about Georgie later today or tomorrow, because I have to get to work — as in my actual job. I slept until 10:00 a.m. this morning, putting a serious dent in my blogging time, but I must have really needed the rest to have slept so long. You can read reviews at just about any other site on the blog tour, and I will give the book my personal thumbs-up as an enjoyable read for boys and girls (and grown-up bloggers).

Say you are at a book signing by famous children’s author and illustrator Tomie dePaola. Do you...

1. get your books signed, tell him that you admire his work, and have your picture taken together?
2. plug your blog shamelessly and write your phone number on his arm with a black sharpie?
3. tell him of a vague connection you have to him and then ask him to read your manuscript?

While you think that over, let me back up. On Saturday of my New York City trip, I went to Books of Wonder at the suggestion of my friend Tim. I ended up there earlier than I had planned, but actually, in a cosmic way, just in time. As it turns out Tomie dePaola was reading from his new book Why?: A 26 Fairmont Avenue Book and signing books. I was so early — by chance — that I was number nine for the book signing. I picked out two books, and wandered around for a while.

Books of Wonder is a great store with art, rare books, and many signed books on the shelves. I picked up Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road? signed by seven of the fourteen illustrators (including Mo) for the regular retail price. Very cool.

Mr. dePaola read a little from his book and took a few questions. Then it was time for the book signing. Back to my starting questions. What did I do? The answer is “a.” Though writing my digits on his arm would have been funny, in a “call security” kind of way. But the woman right in front of me choose “c,” which pissed me off. First, because even I — mistress of the brazen — know that it’s inappropriate to ask an author to look at your manuscript, especially at a book signing! Second, with her talking to him and his directing her to SCBWI, she totally bogarted my time with him! The bookstore assistant handed my books over while he and the woman were still talking, so he signed my books and was done with me before I could even open my mouth. Oh, and then the woman in her flustered state took my signed book, so I used the thirty seconds I had left to say, “Hey, that’s my book!” The word “dumb-ass” was left implied, as there were children present.

I did get my picture taken with the man, since the store had offered. I got to say, approximately,
“IreallyloveyourworkandIalwayshave Iamachildrenslibrarianandabookbloggerand IwassogladthatIhappenedtobeheretoday,”
before the music played me off.

Afterwards I went to tour Donnell Library with a Very Special Tour Guide. I saw Winnie-the-Pooh and friends, an original Newbery medal, and rare books. Betsy seems like her blog, if that makes sense to you. She had thrown me off by saying that she’s shy around famous authors, but I didn’t see much shy about her. Not that I’m a famous author, mind you, but she didn’t seem like the shy type. After the tour, Betsy and I chatted over beers (but each one was only five ounces in a sample set we shared) about blogging for fun and profit, the frustrations of the Newbery committee (including the frustrations of not being able to talk much about the Newbery committee), the great showing at kidlit drink night, and ALA in Washington, DC (my neighbor to the north). I think with the help of the lovely Liz at Tea Cozy (and I might want to tell her this), we’ll try to get something together for kidlit bloggers. Or bloggers and authors. Or both — still working on it. Anyone interested?

I’ve extended the deadline for submitting to the Carnival of Children’s Literature if you do so by email (at the end of my blogroll). If you use the Carnival site, it will forward on to the next host automatically, and she has enough to do without worrying about your wayward posts. You have Friday and Saturday to send something, and then I’m closing the door on this puppy.

It’s a very special day today, as the bloggers’ book award, the Cybils, are announced. I don’t have the Cybils Award graphic, so instead I’ll use this postcard of a monster in underpants.

I was a judge for the picture book category, and I think we picked a book with both kid appeal and literary value. Scaredy Squirrel is a funny book about a squirrel who is afraid of everything, so he stays safely in his tree, not trying anything new. But when he is forced to exit his comfort zone, he discovers something very important about himself. And yet... y’know, I’m giving away too much here. Read the book.

Better yet, buy the book. Jen Robinson had the wonderful suggestion of supporting the Cybils by purchasing a book from the list to show publishers that the awards relate to sales. I’d even go so far as to suggest that you purchase through the Cybils site rather than mine, so that tiny commission can go toward the award itself. (When you order books or other stuff from Amazon after going through my site or the Cybils site, the referring blog gets a small commission.)

There’s still time to submit a post for the Carnival of Children’s Literature. Either submit through the Carnival site or send me an email. (My email is at the bottom of my blogroll.) The official deadline was tomorrow, but I’ll make the last day February 17th, because I’m not going to get to this thing before Sunday.

With everything going on, I didn’t pull together books on love for Valentine’s Day, but I’ll direct you to last year’s Valentine’s post. I listed some of my favorite picture books about love in many categories, including gay penguin love. Now you’re going to look, aren’t you?