"Story is Forever"

Story. Tradition. Love. The family of our heart as well as of our blood and bone.
These are what motivated my to write my picture book, What Will You Be, Sara Mee? These are what made and continue to make me want to share my experiences with others.

Family...

When my daughter, whose name really is Sara Mee Jung Kim, arrived at the San Francisco airport from Korea on September 14, 1984, she was exactly, to the day, fourteen months old. Our whole family was there, waiting for the plane to land--all watching out the big window toward the runway. I walked down a long corridor to the door of the 747 jumbo jet. When the escort placed Sara Mee in my arms, she was wearing a light green terry cloth sleeper. And she was crying. I spoke gently to her in Korean, Mee Jung ah, ool jee mah. She stopped crying instantly and looked up at me with a big smile. I carried her back down the long corridor where the rest of her family--Daddy, big brother, Grandma and Grandpa--met her for the first time. There was a lot of hugging and crying, crying and hugging. The story of our life together as a new family had begun. That story, like any story, has had many chapters. Joyful chapters. Funny chapters. Suspenseful chapters. And tragic, sad chapters. But all the chapters tell a story of love that has been enriched by sharing a diverse wealth of...

Traditions...

We were one big multicultural family even before Sara Mee's arrival. A joyful, eclectic blend of European, Celtic, Ashkenazi Jewish, a bit of Native American. When I was in high school, Mariko, an AFS exchange student from Japan lived with us for a year. She and her family became a part of our family and added many more rich traditions and, to date, over forty years of sharing stories and visits, one continent to the other. We celebrated pretty much everything throughout the seasons. With Sara Mee's arrival, Korean culture and customs were woven into the cycle of our lives. Even though she was just past one year old, we decided to have a "Tol," the ritual first birthday celebration featured in What Will You Be, Sara Me? Our dear Korean neighbors, the Yees, helped us plan the Tol and prepare for the Toljabee, prophecy game. Just like in the story, we invited friends and family and neighbors. Just like in the story, everyone ate and talked, laughed and gathered to see what Sara Mee would be. Should I tell what symbolic item she chose? What her prophecy was? No, I think I'll let everyone wonder and only hint that though my story is based on real experience, it is also fiction. And, it is autobiographical like most stories are at least in part. Within its pages I have been able to immortalize my daughter and my son, to continue their sibling relationship even though he died long ago. Story. Story is forever. And so is love.

Story...

I have been writing as long as there was paper and pencil or crayon or pen available to grab onto. Recently, I found several of my childhood books that have illegible pencil scrawl under the printed lines. I was writing or maybe re-writing all those years ago! I wonder if revision was easier then. It is most assuredly the hardest part of the writing process for me now. The writing process itself is very thrilling, especially when a new idea kindles my thinking, or characters come alive and seem to be telling the story themselves. Story. And poem. And song. Discovered within the stories and poems and songs I have lived and heard.

Oh, and words themselves. Words and writing are a passion, an essential endeavor I "can't not do." I want to give this passion to the young, encourage them within this fast-moving, technological era, to keep listening and writing and telling the diverse stories of their world, their families, their traditions.

Happiness to all, whatever your prophecy may be.


Posted by Kate Aver Avraham, author of What Will You Be, Sara Mee? available February 2010.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/13/fashion/weddings/13NAILOR.html?_r=1&emc=eta1

THE STORY
My daughter, Kaaryn Nailor, was married Sunday December 13, 2009 at Bridgewaters in lower Manhattan. Fifty guests came from out of town and stayed at a hotel near the site--myself included.

Ten AM found me in the bridal suite with the bridesmaids for hair, makeup, lunch, mimosas, steaming gowns, waiting for the wedding planner...Then someone came in (the planner?) and announced that the wedding announcement was in that morning’s New York Times. As we were looking at it, the photographer, Kenny Pang, came in and was excited as it was his photo that ran. He said hardly anyone gets their announcement in the paper and of those that do, they rarely get a photo. I used to do the wedding announcements when I was a staff writer on the Women’s Page of the Hartford Courant and knew that he was right.

THE WEDDING
It was held in South Street Seaport, an historic area near Wall Street. It has narrow, winding, cobblestone streets, replicas of 18th century sailing vessels, and quaint shops.

There was a tree, four stories tall, in the center mall with bright red ribbons and we could see it through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

First Lady Michelle Paterson was there. She, like First Lady Michelle Obama, is black. Michelle Paterson’s husband is the Governor of New York State, and the first legally blind governor in US history.

The wedding ended at 10 PM when the DJ played Alicia Key’s “Empire State of Mind.” New Yorkers are in love with that song. Then they played Frank Sinatra's “New York, New York” and all the guests gathered together into a line and did a Rockette’s-style high kick. I think this is all now a New York City tradition.
　
GROOM
The wedding was beautiful. The only person who cried was the groom (3 times). When the minister announced them man and wife, the groom--nicknamed Bam (from the Flintstone’s character)--grabbed my daughter and said, “I love you so much. I am so happy,” then held on to her and sobbed.

There was a groom’s dinner the night before the wedding. A woman who Bam went to high school with is now a famous cake designer (like those TV shows- “Amazing Cakes," etc.). She and my daughter got together and secretly designed a cake for the groom. It was of his backpack with booklets etc. from his favorite sports team, a lift ticket (they will have a ski honeymoon in Colorado), and a replica of their puppy’s leash down to the weave.

THE END
After the wedding (10 PM) the guests were surprised with cocoa and cookies in the lobby of the event facility. Then we were given sparklers. They were lit and we formed an arch. The bride and groom came out, went under the arch to the waiting white limo, but half way down the arch the groom grabbed my daughter and gave her a long, passionate kiss.

MORE
The next morning--Monday--the bride and groom hosted a breakfast from 10 AM to noon at Freshly Made, a pretty restaurant that made homemade frittatas, bagels, French toast, Vermont bacon, etc...all buffet-style.

I got back to my apartment a few days later and went online to discover that people had sent The New York Times link around. Not only were people reading about my child’s wedding, but they were also reading about my book! The link was on her law school’s page, the websites for the many vendors for the wedding, Facebook, Twitter...Wow.

They are off on their honeymoon and I am a happy mom.

Happy holidays!


Posted by Linda Trice, author of Kenya's Word

Dog Gone!

In less than twenty-four hours I am headed to Deutschland to share in my son's experiences with the people of Germany. Christmas markets will be all aglow with booths filled with the Christmas season. There will be music, and happy chatter, scents of cherry and chocolate filled crepes mixed with evergreen and incense, and I think I'll laugh when again no one has heard of the German tradition of the Christmas pickle, said to have descended from a world war when a soldier gave a starving prisoner his dill pickle. The prisoner and those who knew of the story were said to have hung a pickle on the tree ever since--which ascended into a glass pickle ornament and a child's Christmas morning game. When my son asked about the tradition, multiple folks in Germany laughed. "Americans hang pickles on their Christmas tree?"

Meanwhile amid all this festive fun, I feel Aggie's cold nose against my brain wondering what trouble she wants to get into now. I am Aggie smitten. The only dog I ever owned was a collie pup. I was quite young ,we lived in a small Syracuse, New York, apartment where dogs couldn't stay, and Lad became my aunt's dog. I never knew I had a love for dogs until I met Aggie. Then I was dog gone.

My bishop had a dog, a big floppy golden lab. This was Aggie. When I first saw Aggie, she lazed in the summer sun on the back patio of the beach house. We'd brought young single adults from church to their beach house for a day of BBQ and boating. As skis, tubes, and kids were loaded into two boats, our bishop's sweet wife brought bread outside for my young daughter. Ducks waded nearby in the shallows.

Jennifer tore and tossed bread into the lake, and Aggie's head lifted. She picked up her floppy body and bounded toward us. Aggie took a giant leap into the lake right on top of the bread. SPLASH! Ducks squawked flapping for the skies, bread sank to the depths below, and Aggie doggie paddled back with the smirkiest doggie grin. Instantly she came right to where we were standing, shook her self off, as if her splash wasn't wet enough, and then she went right back to her sun heated cemenet bed and flopped down. I was drawn to this funny dog. I half felt she knew exactly what she was doing. A-G-G-I-E spelled trouble.

Though new to the writing world, I knew she was my character, I just knew it. An excited energy filled me when I simply thought of her. My heart would get all happy, jumpy, and my mind would want to play. I loved this character. I interviewed my owner friends again and again. The more I learned about Aggie, the more she cracked me up. Then , I started to hear Ben. (He actually began as an imaginary young Tony McCasline.) I fell hard for dogs and found myself at the pet store with my children taking pups out of cages just to play. Then, one day I took the kids, and there was a beautiful baby girl husky pup with sky blue eyes. We ran home and dragged in dad. He got the pupster out to play. We all fell in love with a husky and she didn't go back. Daily doggie adventures of garbage, mud, digging and squirrels became stories.

Much to my joy and surprise, Aggie became real through Charlesbridge. Stories grew and continue to grow from a fraction of truth mixed with a bunch of imagination. Aggie Tales continue to come and she still cracks me up as I write. The seed of Aggie is gone now, but it's so sweet to know where she came from, and to have my own puppy adventures. Once Nikita stole a whole chicken off the counter, cooling for dinner. As she ran from me, she ate the entire thing--carcass and all--in a matter of moments. I called the vet with bone concerns and he asked what kind of dog I had. "Husky, " I replied. Then he laughed. "That's what they do in the wild!" Nikita has me dog gone as Aggie stories continue.

By spring 2011, Aggie will have four books--Aggie and Ben, Good Dog, Aggie, Aggie the Brave, and Aggie Gets Lost. Aggie is every kid's dog, pulled from the adventures of everyday life. Through Aggie, I learned to love dogs and the magic.


Posted by Lori Ries, author of the Aggie and Ben series, Super Sam, and Fix It, Sam.

Photo by Julie Padbury, JMP Services.

"The Day-Glo Brothers" sweep 2009!

Chris Barton's first book for children wowed 'em in Wooster. Ohio, that is.

Chris recently traveled to the great state of Ohio, the home of the Day-Glo Corporation--which was founded by Bob and Joe Switzer, the subjects of his book--to visit the Buckeye Book Fair. While there, he took the opportunity to visit the Day-Glo plant. Read all about it at his blog, Bartography.

From the photos, this factory looks like the most beautiful place in the world to work. But that broom is mostly useless, if you ask our Irish mother.

The Day-Glo Brothers has enjoyed a great run right out of the gate:

* Publishers Weekly's Best Children's Books of 2009
* Kirkus Reviews' Best Children's Books of 2009

"[T]hese . . . brothers shine even more brightly than the paints and dyes they created. "
--Kirkus Reviews, starred review

"Barton takes on the dual persona of popular historian and cool science teacher as he chronicles the Switzer brothers' invention of the first fluorescent paint visible in daylight. "
--Publishers Weekly, starred review

"This unique book does an excellent job of describing an innovative process."
--School Library Journal, starred review

Visit Chris Barton online.

"I Didn't Know You Liked Wonder Woman"

For the longest time, I avoided writing about my family.

My husband, who knew all about my interesting childhood, couldn't fathom why I'd waste "such a gold mine."

He'd shrug, muttering about how "you can't make this stuff up."

I had written three novels for young readers, none about my life in particular, though my first came the closest. That one, How I Survived My Summer Vacation, is about a boy who wants to be an author.

The next two, The Girlfriend Project and Nothing, are, respectively, about a boy who wants a girlfriend and a boy who develops bulimia. (My family, startled by the subject matter of the latter, asked for several assurances that I was not, in fact, writing from experience. I was not.)

But I'd never written a novel about a girl.

Or, more specifically, a girl who was born in Israel, lives in immigrant poverty, and tries desperately to understand the American dream.

And I never thought I would, until I met the late Paul Zindel, renowned author of The Pigman, at a writing luncheon. Offhandedly he commented that all of his books are autobiographical.

"Doesn't your family get angry with you for writing about them?" someone asked.

"Yes," he replied casually. "But then they ask me who's playing them in the movie."

It got me thinking. More than thinking, it got me writing.

I started with the basics: A thirteen-year-old girl, born in Israel, growing up on Staten Island in the 1980s.

I added: She hates gym, watches too much TV, and, most distressingly, can't get her hair to do what everybody else's hair does, that is, feathering into a set of perfect wings.

I kept going, embracing all the cringe-worthy memories of adolescence that are probably best left forgotten, much less broadcast.

I'm talking about the most private, most embarrassing, most personal kinds of thoughts a thirteen-year-old girl could possibly confide to a nonjudgmental diary with a lock firmly around its middle.

Yes, that means observations on boys, body image, desire, and self-esteem, all tinged with a palpable current of longing that could exist only within the peculiar eccentricities of being an outsider, a foreigner in a strange land, with the attendant constant feelings of being excluded, different, and even unwelcome.

Then I added the fiction. Or, more to the point, I added what I would have liked to see in real life if I had been in charge of the story.

A seductive concept, to be sure. Maybe even literary therapy.

I had a finished draft all ready to go in 2004. Little did I know it would be five rewrites and five years before my draft became a published novel.

The responses from editors were surprising, to say the least.

"Not believable."

"This can't really have happened."

"The characters don't seem real."

More and more, I rewrote my autobiography, moving my story further and further away from reality. Finally, it sold.

The Importance of Wings was published in July, 2009.

It's still about a thirteen-year-old girl growing up on Staten Island in the 1980s, born in Israel, who watches too much TV and hates gym and her non-feathered, non-wings hair.

But mostly it's fiction, fiction I would have picked for my childhood story. After all, authors don't just "write what they know"; sometimes they write what they wish they knew.

As publication day drew nearer, I still had two hurdles left to clear: my sister and my mother. I stalled as long as I could, and knowing I was writing from experience, they were getting downright concerned. (My father was in the book too, but he'd always been easygoing about my writing, and not much of a reader, besides.)

I mailed my mother and sister advanced reading copies a few months ahead of publication and hoped for the best.

The verdict came back: Four thumbs up.

Along with indignant "how-come-you-never-told-me?" comments.

"I thought you really liked gym."

"Did you really hate your hair?"

"I didn't know you liked Wonder Woman."

"Were you that worried about fitting in?"

"Well," I replied, trying to shrug off the questions and trying to channel Paul Zindel, "You'll just have to wait for the movie."

Posted by Robin Friedman, author of The Imporatance of Wings.
Visit Robin online.

Publishers Weekly's Best Books of 2009

The Day-Glo Brothers: The True Story of Bob and Joe Switzer's Bright Ideas and Brand-New Colors
Chris Barton, illus. by Tony Persiani (Charlesbridge)

The unlikely subjects of this fascinating picture book biography exemplify ingenuity and dedication to chasing one's dreams.

And some other very nice books are on this list and you can find them at PW.com.

"[T]hese . . . brothers shine even more brightly than the paints and dyes they created. "
--Kirkus Reviews

"Barton takes on the dual persona of popular historian and cool science teacher as he chronicles the Switzer brothers' invention of the first fluorescent paint visible in daylight. "
--Publishers Weekly

"This unique book does an excellent job of describing an innovative process."
--School Library Journal

Cybils Nominations

The Cybils are awesome and they like us. They really, really like us.

Charlesbridge books that have received a nod:

CATEGORY: Easy Readers and Short Chapter Books

Good Dog, Aggie

CATEGORY: Fiction Picture Books

What REALLY Happened to Humpty?
(from the files of a hard-boiled detective)

CATEGORY: Non-Fiction - middle/teen

After Gandhi: One Hundred Years of Nonviolent Resistance

Cars on Mars: Roving the Red Planet

CATEGORY: Non-fiction/Information Picture Books

Bubble Homes and Fish Farts

Faces of the Moon

Faith

Pippo the Fool

The Day-Glo Brothers

Unite or Die: How Thirteen States Became a Nation

Bringing the Moon Down to Earth

Faces of the Moon is my new children's book, released this July in time for the United Nations' International Year of Astronomy. Featuring amazing linoleum-cut illustrations by artist Leslie Evans, this book reintroduces the Moon to the young, and young at heart, and helps the reader/listener make sense of her ever-changing face.

I never envisioned myself becoming a writer of children's books, per se. Among other things, I am an amateur astronomer. I enjoy sharing the night sky because we all are curious about the mysteries beyond our world. Learning about the universe also gives kids a tangible appreciation for the fragile nature of our humble planet--orbiting a little star in a VERY big place. And after all, gazing into the great expanse of space can turn even a grownup into a wide-eyed child, when we feel the awe and wonder not only in our hearts, but throughout our entire bodies.

As my friends and family will attest, I have remained in touch with my "child self" throughout my 50 years (this makes me sometimes forget that I don't quite look like the rest of the kids when I drop into a skateboard half-pipe nowadays). Perhaps this benefits my writing for children, but most of all, several years of teaching elementary astronomy has helped me notice where other books can lose kids' attention and curiosity. Having been a longtime musician, I also understand our natural attraction to rhythm and rhyme, and that's why I write my books in rhyming verse.

There are more books available on the Moon, planets, and space than there are stars in the sky. When I approached writing my books, I needed a more grand purpose for my astronomical verse. For instance, there were no kid's books that explained why it's difficult for us to see all the stars in our night skies nowadays (because of the problem of man-made "light pollution"). For me, this was a perfect challenge: to tell this timely story with a message of hope, instead of just being a downer. There Once Was a Sky Full of Stars wound up exceeding my expectations.

For my latest book, instead of pursuing tantalizing astronomical subjects like black holes, or galaxies that devour one another, I instead chose to focus on an entry level to astronomy: the Moon, which I consider humankind's first "stepping stone" to the universe. I had my sights set on 2009, the International Year of Astronomy, and I thought, "What could better engage the public-at-large in astronomy than the Moon?" For all the knowledge humankind has accumulated to date, most grownups can't even tell you why the Moon goes through different phases--if they even notice it does! The basic story of Earth's satellite seems to have never been told or shown in a way that stuck with the reader. I took my next challenge: to write a book that would make Moon gazing exciting again and help make basic lunar information household knowledge. Fully loaded with the "goods"--lyrical rhyme, die cut pages, and Leslie's beautiful illustrations--Faces of the Moon offers one of the most inviting gateways to astronomy yet.

If you haven't already, I invite you to tatke a look at Faces of the Moon for yourself. In our rapid-paced, plugged-in modern world, which is only getting faster and less organic, it wouldn't hurt for us to raise a whole new generation that can still look beyond it all and connect to the silent grandeur of our universe--even by merely following the Moon in orbit.

Stop by sometime and visit my website.


Posted by Bob Crelin, author of Faces of the Moon.

Check out the Faces of the Moon - Moon Gazers' Wheel

Click here to watch a trailer of Faces of the Moon.

Download the Teachers' Guide.

Listen to podcasts and watch interviews with Bob Crelin at Charlesbridge.com

Don't the Moon Look Good, Mama, Shinin' Through the Trees

Bob Crelin assures me that his blog entry is forthcoming. Meanwhile, as you can see at the left, he's busy sharing Faces of the Moon with young readers who are eager to find out more about a planet's best friend.

Stay Tuned

Bob Crelin will be posting his blog entry soon.

Meanwhile, did you see how Charlesbridge and Bob Dylan have a lot in common in the previous post below? Uncanny. Bob is also of Russian descent, which makes The Magic Babushka even more Dylanesque. Plus it's an Easter story, which Bob mentions in "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" on Highway 61 Revisited.