Monthly Archives: April 2008

Elf Envy: Random Round Up

A few bits and bobs from around and about:

I’m currently reading Blue Balliett’s latest book, The Calder Game. So I enjoyed the recent interview in Newsweek in which Blue discusses lots of things, from mobiles to movie rights.

I just finished The Adoration of Jenna Fox this morning. Talk about a page-turner. (Review to come soon!) I’ve been thinking about it all day long. So many discussion-inspiring topics in this book. If you’ve read it, or if you haven’t, you should check out the great interview with Mary E. Pearson over at Cynsations. It makes me love the book even more.

As if I needed another reason to get myself a copy of Maureen Johnson’s latest book. In her review, bookshelves of doom calls Suite Scarlett, “fun times a bazillion.” And it’s going to be a series! Woot!

Then there is this treasure:

I’ve got a few DVDs of the British version of Creature Comforts, but I hadn’t seen this one. Ha ha ha. Thanks Shelf Talker for sharing. (Can you get over the dog who is a “print-maker.” I guess art really is in the eye of the beholder!). This short seems to belong with Jon Scieszka’s Seen Art?.

Ta ta!

Korgi

OK. I’ve got 3 words that will make just about any person with a healthy dose of curiosity want to check out Christian Slade’s cute cute cute graphic novel fantasy: fire breathing corgi.

Got your attention now?

I’m a bit shy to admit that overall, I liked this little book. First off, I’m not much of a corgi believer (I know everyone says they’re lovely creatures, but they just look wacko with their little legs and barrel bodies). How ’bout a village full of corgis, large and small, living in tree houses? (I swear I’m not making this up people). Be this weirdness as it may, I defy you not to fall in love with our doggy hero the first time you see him leap with his tiny legs out of a giant hollow log as he races through the forest. What spunk! What gumption! (What short legs!) So Sprout the Korgi lives in Korgi Hollow with his owner/companion, Ivy. In this first installment of the series, Sprout and Ivy are put to the test when they wander away from their village and come face to face with some right nasty characters.

As you might expect, the best part of this book is the art (considering it’s almost entirely wordless, you’d better hope the illustration kicks). The relationship between the girl and her dog, and the range of emotions they experience as they journey through this adventure comes across perfectly throughout the story in the delicacy of the facial expressions. I also found the narrative to move along at a brisk and satisfying clip (in strange directions, yes, but it sure kept moving). The best part? I’m thinking it might be the very end, when the weird, angry, giant dust-bunny character reports back to his leaders to tell them about the power of the corgi. Hilarious.

This series is brought to us by Top Shelf Comix (makers of Owly). Like Owly, I imagine that Korgi will have a wide readership. I doubt it will be confined to the younger set. So come on. Give corgis a chance.

The Arrival

I’ve just spent a lovely chunk of my evening embracing Shaun Tan’s The Arrival... literally. I mean, I’ve actually been cradling the book in my arms and waxing philosophical to anyone who will listen. (My cat just abandoned my lap and wandered away rolling his eyes, in search of a quieter place to complete his snooze). I wouldn’t have believed I could love a Shaun Tan book as much as I adore his picture book, The Red Tree, but it would seem I am overruled.

I need hardly tell any book lover the premise of this story, as everyone bookish already knows. In fact, I was feeling a little shy about admitting that I hadn’t yet read The Arrival, but I simply can’t keep quiet about how moving and beautiful this book is. For those who’ve been hiding under a rock for the last six months, The Arrival is an immigration tale, the story of a man who leaves his home and family in search of a new life. It’s about the mystery, strangeness and magic of the new world. It’s about sacrifice and loneliness, young friendships, painful pasts and belonging. And, it doesn’t contain a single word. It’s all pictures. Glorious, glorious pictures.

I don’t want to write too much about this book, because I don’t want to overthink my response to it and take away from how rich and evocative an experience it was to read it for the first time. The man who arrives moves through the strange new city in sequences that feel vaguely dreamlike and full of wonder. So many emotions play through this story – loss, uncertainty, vulnerability, surprise, confusion, yearning, hope. There is an astonishing sense of scope and the narrative is utterly compelling, especially remarkable considering it’s a wordless book.

I’d like to know what person could possibly finish this book without wanting to open it right back up at the beginning and take it all in again. (I’d also like to know if everyone else who’s read it wants one of those crazy little cat/lizard/dino pets as much as I do). A book that makes me think as much as The Arrival does, automatically takes a giant step closer to a spot on my “special bookshelf,” for those books that make me feel content just by being what they are, perfectly.

One of the most powerful ideas that Tan’s story communicates is the notion that every story of immigration, every “arrival,” deserves respect and recognition, and that each such story is in some way, an original, highly personal experience, even though so so many others have taken journeys that seem similar.

There’s nothing I can write to convey exactly the way this book affected me. I would love to get kids reading it, lots of kids, and then listen in to their discussions later on. If you’re a teacher, you must read this. (If you’re not a teacher, you must read this). Anyone interested in using it in their classroom should check out what Monica Edinger’s awesome fourth grade class created in their unit of study on The Arrival. That’s what it’s all about people. Show this book to anyone who thinks graphic novels can’t stand up to “real literature.” Pshaw!

Poetry Friday: Shark Girl

I am sitting here all grumpy faced because after the world’s longest day ever I was excited to be participating in my first readergirlz forum chat with the readergirlz gang and Kelly Bingham, author of Shark Girl. It would seem, however, that the gremlins of MySpace are conspiring against me and will not let me join the cool crowd just because I haven’t been a member for 7 days. Phooey. Just wait for the next forum. It’s going to be Shannon Hale’s Book of a Thousand Days. I’m already ready.

I will now channel the negative joo joo towards a positive end, and tell each and every one of you why Bingham’s book is worth reading.

This being a Poetry Friday post, obviously we’re talking verse novel here. It’s the story of Jane Arrowood, a fifteen-year old who survives a shark attack that results in the amputation of her right arm. The novel follows Jane into and beyond her grief, exploring how an ordinary girl finds a way to know herself better after experiencing a traumatic loss. This story shows what can happen after one nightmarish, life-altering moment.

As I think I’ve mentioned before, verse novels aren’t always my thing. When they work, they really work, but a lot of the time, it just feels to me that the author is disguising prose as poetry by chopping it up with some artsy line breaks and slapping on a few titles. Not so Kelly Bingham’s writing. At no point did I feel that the poems in this book were actually little slices of prose pretending to be poetry. This is the real deal, and so you should read it.

First off, you’ll really like Jane Arrowood. She’s an authentic teenage girl. She’s got a head on her shoulders. She’s wonderfully ordinary (aside from having been attacked by a shark, I suppose). But Jane has fantastic and surprising inner strength, even though she doesn’t realize this for a while. You’ll root for her because what she really wants is to be able to do the normal stuff she loved doing before her accident- her drawing, cooking for her family, styling her own hair. I admired the fact that this kid valued life’s small things.

Shark Girl begs readers to consider, “What would I do?” in this kind of situation. It takes a hard look at the media and how it sensationalizes terrible events and tries to claim survivors to boost ratings and make headlines. It makes you think about how even though these days, we’re able to have access to so many victims’ stories, getting inside their lives through TV and the internet, we’re not really any closer to that person’s thinking or point of view. So much is private and secret and complicated. 

I loved the last stanzas of the final poem in the book. They reveal the greatest lesson Jane internalizes through her experience: rather than fear the terrible things that may happen in the future and feel burdened or even paralyzed by uncertainty, we can try to see that not knowing is a kind of freedom, and in the end, that’s all we have:

Life is what it is,
at any second.
A snapshot.
Nothing more.

Maybe

the trick is learning
to live in the moment
celebrating our
freedom;

the freedom

of not knowing.

For a desperate-to-control-as-much-as-possible perfectionist like myself, I’m thinking that the lines, “life is what it is / at any second,” should be my new motto. Shark Girl is a rich book, with a lot of life lessons to offer readers, but never in a preachy, overt way. It’s about forgiveness and acceptance and hope and sheer determination to go after the life you think you want even when you face obstacles. Heck, if Tim Wynne-Jones says that Bingham writes “with compassion, candor and riveting clarity,” I think you’ve gotta go get the book. A compelling, sensitive, and ultimately triumphant story.

(Check out the recent roundtable discussion on Shark Girl with Little Willow, Lorie Ann Grover and of course, Miss Erin).

An Interview with Andrea Beaty

You may know Andrea Beaty as the creator of funny / clever / happy-making picture books such as:

or

Or, you may know Andrea Beaty as one of the Three Silly Chicks. Well, you’re about to get to know Andrea a whole lot better, as she joins me in cyberland for an interview to discuss her latest book, Cicada Summer, and a whole lot of other things besides.

Welcome Andrea!

What inspires you (situations / works of art / places / foods / people)?
Nature inspires me. I spent a lot of my childhood outside and I find that being outside, even now, clears my head and lets my ideas go crazy. I also supplement my nature inspiration with heaps of coffee and chocolate.

Is your writing space a place of loveliness? Describe where you work.
I have a great office in my basement. Alas, I never can get it quite straightened before the next wave of papers rolls through and it looks like chaos again. But I don’t mind. I tend to fill my space with goofy things like my growing collection of Archie McPhee Action Figures and Doctor Who junk and goofy hats. In the summer, I often move to my “Summer Studio.” (I take my laptop to the camper and work out there until the kids find me and make me cook for them!)

What books do you wish you had not yet read, so that you could experience the pleasure of reading them now for the first time?
That would be pretty much every book I’ve ever loved. It’s such a thrill to fall in love with a book. I think that’s the great thing about kids reading anything they want. It doesn’t matter if they experience that thrill reading a Nancy Drew mystery or Captain Underpants or a graphic novel or Little Women or War and Peace. The literary quality of the book isn’t the important thing. It’s the falling in love part that matters. Once they’ve experienced it, I think they’ll spend the rest of their lives trying to have that experience again and again. And they’ll discover better and better books along the way.

If you could live inside a kids’ book, which book would you choose?
I’d pick House at Pooh Corner. It’s such a joy. I love all the characters and their adventures. They are so caring and very, very funny. Wouldn’t it be grand to spend a day playing Pooh Sticks?

How does blogging about kids’ lit influence your writing?
On the negative side, it takes time away from writing. Of course, this is also part of its charm. It’s an easy way to play in the kidlit world without actually doing what I ought to be doing—which is writing! On the plus side, it introduces me to lots of fantastic people who are as passionate about kids’ books as I am. They, in turn, introduce me to so many new titles that might slip past without my notice. Reading great books is always helpful to a writer!

Plus, blogging as one of the Three Silly Chicks is just plain fun. Julia Durango and Carolyn Crimi just crack me up!

How does your creative process for writing a picture book compare to your process for writing a novel?
My experience writing Cicada Summer was very strange. The book came to me in full-formed scenes which I wrote down. However, they were out of sequence. I had no idea who the characters were or if there was a storyline that connected the scenes. I hoped there would be and in the end, there was. It was rather spooky, really. I liken it to using a telescope to examine an elephant at very close range. I saw only body parts and hoped and against hope that there was a torso connecting that trunk with the tail!

Writing a novel is a bit like being possessed. There are lots of voices in my head and they won’t go away until I figure out what they want. Unfortunately, that takes months and months, so by the end of the process, I’m TIRED!

On the other hand, I tend to be a very fast picture book writer. Doctor Ted and When Giants Come to Play each took a day to write. Rhyming picture books might take a few weeks because they are more technical in terms of rhythm and word choice. Either way, I can write a picture book and be done with it long before the project has time to get on my nerves. I’m still in love with the story when I’m done with it.

I like to say that writing prose picture books is about writing poetry. Writing rhyming picture books is like writing a TV jingle. Writing a novel is like wearing a tinfoil hat that picks up transmissions from disembodied voices who tell you to do things. (The voices told me to write that.)

Name a picture book you wish you’d written.
I’ll name several: Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, Click, Clack Moo!, Scaredy Squirrel, Miss Spider’s Tea Party, and my latest absolute favorite picture book, 17 Things I’m not Allowed to Do Anymore. That book makes me laugh every time I read it! (Which is often!)

Describe a few of your best summer memories from childhood.
Building campfires in the sandstone fire pit in our backyard. We did that at least a couple times a week. Swinging in the back yard. Running around like yahoos with my brothers and sisters. Roaming the cornfields and dirt roads surrounding our town. Taking endless bike rides, looking for adventure.

Many of the scenes in Cicada Summer are straight from my childhood—except the ones about the gangster and Pete and the old lady parties and . . .

In Cicada Summer, Lily is crazy about Nancy Drew. Why do you think she fancies mysteries so much, and do you think that the drama of her real-life sleuthing adventures might lead her to shelve Nancy for good?
I think there are a couple of reasons Lily is so engrossed in Nancy Drew mysteries. She is a smart and imaginative kid who is trapped in her silence. These books allow her vicarious adventures and an intellectual life, of sorts. And it gives her friends, albeit imaginary ones, to relate to.

Also, the books are a link to times past with Pete. Lily is stuck in time and can’t really move on. Reading the same books over and over is a reflection of that, but the familiarity is also comforting to her.

I think Lily will linger with Nancy Drew just a bit longer, but mostly to say, “Goodbye.” I suspect that Tinny will take them up as she investigates the new life she’s come to. The books will be another connection Lily can share with her. But Lily won’t need Nancy Drew in the same way and she’ll move on. If she’s like me, she’ll move on to Daphne DuMaurier and Agatha Christie!

(Just a note. I was a MEGA-fan of Nancy Drew when I was a kid. I spent hours imagining that I was on Nancy’s adventure with her. I always identified with George and thought that Nancy should lose Bess and take me along instead! Sadly, that never happened!)

I know this is a bit like asking a parent which kid is the favourite, but… which character in Cicada Summer is your secret pet? (Mine might be Fern… but that could just be because I want to live in her store, right next to the popsicles.)
When I was a kid, my family ran a store exactly like Fern’s. Or perhaps, Fern runs one exactly like ours! (In fact, we bought the store from a woman named Fern!) It was great for us. I don’t think we made any money as a family because my brothers and sisters and I ate so much candy and ice cream. We were like locusts! Still, it was a swell stomping ground and a great place for adventures and people watching.

I think Miss Opal is my pet character. She has a sparkle about her and is full of joy and life. She’s a bit exotic and bohemian, too. Even though we see hints of her losing her edge and worry for her, she still grabs for life with vigor! I also love her sister, Miss Pearl, who is so caring and true blue, but who also has a lot of zest. She’s just quieter about it.

For a good part of your novel, I wished I could sweep into the story and take Lily under my wing. She seemed like a kid desperate for friends. If you could snatch a few characters from different children’s books to be friends with Lily, who would you pick and why?
This is such a fabulous question. I would pick Winnie the Pooh because he is so easy to be around. He accepts all the characters in the Hundred Acre Woods and loves them unconditionally. That would be good for Lily.

I would also pick Scout Finch because I think she would find a way to help Lily. She would do her best to set things right.

Your books, and your focus on all-things “silly” over at Three Silly Chicks, showcase your natural gift for funny. What was it like to step into a story that has darker, more serious elements?
Nobody was more surprised by this book than me! Both because it has very serious elements and because it’s a novel! I really think of myself as a picture book writer. When my editor calls me a novelist, I look around and say, “Where?” I suspect I’ll need to write three or four novels to get over that!

During the first draft of Cicada Summer, I felt more like a reporter than a writer. The scenes that came to me were so emotionally and visually complete, that I simply wrote them down. Even though I felt like an observer of the story, it was a very emotional experience and was, at times, draining. I didn’t set out to write an emotionally charged story, it just happened that way.

I worried about revisions with this book, because I didn’t really have a clue what to expect and it was a long pause (16 months or so) after I finished the first draft. I worried that I couldn’t find my way back to that emotional place where I had been and that the new chapters would seem out of place—as if they were painted from a different batch of paint and the colors were off. Fortunately, my editor, Susan Van Metre, was so brilliant. She really understood this book and Olena and helped me get right back to the place I needed to be. It was wonderful returning to Olena with her and making the story more complete. Miss Pearl and Miss Opal came from the revisions, in fact!

Short answer long—I learned an enormous amount by writing this book. It has given me confidence to tackle another novel or two and maybe someday, I won’t have to say, “Where?” when someone says “novelist!”

If you could be amazingly good at something in addition to writing (which would be totally unfair BTW), what would it be?
Broadway Star. I’m not giving up on this dream. As soon as I learn to sing and dance, I’m moving to New York City to make it on the Great White Way!!!! Oh yeah! Move over Patti Lupone!

You grew up in a small town. Can you take the small town out of the girl?
NEVER!!!! Growing up in a small town was fantastic!

Being from a small town (200 people) was practically like being from the country – only we could walk to school. It taught me how to amuse myself. I am one of six kids who had nothing to do and a million hours in which to do it! We had to create our own distractions and we became very good at it. This often involved making each other laugh until one of us fell down and begged for mercy. That was a daily occurrence in our family.

I’m still pretty good at amusing myself, though increasingly, it’s because my eyesight is slipping and I’m misreading more and more signs and magazine covers.

Thanks ever so much to Andrea for her awesome answers to my many questions, for sharing a picture of her summer writing spot, and for Cicada Summer too (sure to find its way onto many summer reading lists). Read my review so that you want it even more.

Elf Envy: Random Round Up

Some delights for you on this glorious April Tuesday.

The lovely Mark and Andrea of Just One More Book fame were interviewed here for the Ottawa Citizen. Yay!

Miss Erin has a great recap of readergirlz’ Operation Teen Book Drop event.

Sarah Miller just bought herself the cutest ever writer’s hidey-hole and is asking for your opinion on it’s new name.

Alison Morris over at Shelf Talker shares photos from her recent visit to Linda Urban’s house.

Now get outside and roll around on the grass! (If you’re lucky enough to have some. A sadistic gang of raccoons in my neighborhood has completely massacred my lawn. COMPLETELY. Nasty / adorable little buggers).

In a Blue Room

In a Blue Room by Jim Averbeck is all about putting together the perfect bedtime ritual. Alice is not ready for bed. Her excuse? She can only sleep in a blue room. Good thing Alice’s mother is the model of caring patience, bringing Alice a series of lovely offerings to ease her towards sleep. Illustrator Tricia Tusa presents Alice as a little bit like a rag doll in appearance, and every illustration conveys the warmth of the relationship between mother and daughter. You’ll likely recognize Tusa’s work from Mrs. Spitzer’s Garden, and more recently, Fred Stays with Me. I just love her whimsical style. It’s full of energy and softness and I’ll bet that even though the art appears very free on the page, I imagine every illustration is the result of painstaking process. Gorgeous.

This is the kind of picture book that makes it easy to see why many children’s authors say that writing a great picture book is super, super difficult. In so very few words, Averbeck creates and sustains a pitch perfect peaceful mood, just right for resistant sleepers.

Take these lines:

In a blue room,
yellow bells on black strings
chime softly in the window breeze.
Alice yawns,
almost gone…

And wait til you get to the part when Alice’s mother turns out the light and blue sweeps through Alice’s bedroom and out into the night. The book is full of sensory images so simple, so easy to feel, smell and see, that you cannot help but slow down and be right there in the moment while you read. I suppose that’s what’s required in a great bedtime read. You want to draw the little ones away from the craziness of the day, into the quiet world of the story. Averbeck’s careful, poetic text does just that. And the end is stunning, in a quiet, sigh-inducing sort of way. It leaves you feeling all is right with the world.

For sleepy heads, dreamers, and the grown ups who tuck them in. Bring your own flowers, tea, quilts and lullaby bells. (Which gets me thinking… this book + a set of tiny window chimes = perfect present for baby insomniacs).

Read Seven Imp’s thoughts, and Publishers Weekly starred it, and Fuse is even thinking Caldecott 2009

A Curse Dark as Gold

LOTS of people have read and loved Elizabeth Bunce’s first novel, A Curse Dark as Gold. So I feel a bit like this is a “Me too! Me too!” type of review. No matter. I’ve read it. I liked it. I’m saying my piece. (I’ll keep it short).

Bunce offers a glorious remake of one of the creepiest fairy tales around: Rumplestiltskin. She sets the story in the period just before the Industrial Revolution, in a struggling mill called Stirwaters, which has been under the ownership of Miller & Sons for many years. However, there are no sons in the Miller family, just two daughters, Charlotte and Rosie, who’ve been left to sink or swim in the family business after their father’s death. Charlotte is the elder sister, and she feels the burden of this new responsibility keenly. To add to matters, there are whisperings that the mill is cursed and events seem to bear this suspicion out, as things start to go wrong at every turn. It isn’t long before the practical Charlotte finds herself caught up with her sister in mysterious, dark deeds and risky bargains.

I could say so many positive things about this book. Every character in the story changes and grows, and so every character is wonderfully interesting and real. The setting is evocative, and life in the mill and in the town is beautifully described. And if you’re in the mood for a few twists, you’re in luck, since Bunce is the twist-master. The best part of it all is that she uses the original fairy tale as a starting place only, building around the basic plot we all know to create a story that reads as a completely natural extension of the original. That can’t be easy.

This one belongs on the shelf with Shannon Hale’s fairy tale retellings. I for one hope that Elizabeth Bunce is planning to give us another historical-fantasy like this one. Highly recommended.

Read lots more gushing here:

Sarah Miller
Miss Erin
Bookwyrm Chrysalis
bookshelves of doom

And check out this creepifying book trailer:

(Can you believe that freaky carriage? Love it).

Lessons from the Nut Tree: An Interview with Mélanie Watt

Today, I am thrilled to host Mélanie Watt for the final stop of her Blog Tour 2008! Welcome Mélanie!

First, a few general reading/writing/creativity related questions…

What inspires you (situations / works of art / places / foods / people)?
Pretty much everything inspires me. Events, people, our society, past, memories of my childhood, funny situations, interesting places, animals and more.

Name a picture book you wish you’d written and gush about it for a little while.
The latest picture book I’ve read and find absolutely clever is Do Unto Otters: A Book About Manners by Laurie Keller, it’s witty and I love the illustrations and style!

How is writing a story similar to “leaving the nut tree”?
I’ve found after working on about a dozen books with different styles and content, that the ones where I was taking creative risks in terms of unconventional storytelling are the ones that get the most attention and that I am especially proud of. So, I guess it’s like taking a leap in the unknown, pushing the envelope and at the same time discovering what I’m capable of as a writer and illustrator.

And now questions about what readers can learn from Scaredy, our wacky, squirrelly mentor…

While I think that Scaredy offers kids much more than a few important lessons, it’s clear that kids can learn a thing or two from this crazy critter. What lessons do you think young readers take away from your books?
What I hope children will take away from the Scaredy Squirrel series is the capability to question Scaredys fears as well as their own. I don’t go about writing a book with a lesson in mind but more like picking a topic that I feel we should be questioning ourselves on like the topic of fear. I love it when kids write to me: Why is Scaredy afraid of Martians if Martians don’t exist. This is the kind of question that can help kids take a look into their own fears and ask themselves: Do I really need to be afraid of this and is this really something I should be worrying about?

Do you think that Scaredy teaches different lessons to adults?
Reading Scaredy’s exaggerated safety measures pokes fun at us. I’m like Scaredy in many ways, always worrying always wanting to plan and finding excuses in order not to do new things. All kinds of people of different ages are writing to me with experiences and reasons why they identify with Scaredy. Fear is universal and I think it’s one of the key things we all struggle with on a daily basis. What Scaredy brings is a sense of nuttiness and exaggeration on our quest for security.

Scaredy’s Nut Tree as metaphor for present day society. Yes, or no?
Absolutely, I was very inspired by our society and how fear seems to be posted all around us in warning signs, in the media and on toothpaste (fight plaque or else!).

Do you think Scaredy’s perspective is growing or changing?
Yes, in every book Scaredy makes some sort of progress. He’s not changing drastically, he still has a lot to work on but he takes baby squirrel steps towards dealing with his fears.

What is he learning from his near-death experiences and nutty survival strategies?
Scaredy is realizing that things are not as bad as they seem. He doesn’t know this but what he dreads most he brings upon himself in every book! What seems to be working for Scaredy time after time in his imagined near death situations is just to Play Dead. Playing Dead is his way of letting go, being in the moment, taking a break from his worries and therefore realizing that the world around him is not so bad.

Can you think of a character from another children’s book who might have something important to teach Scaredy?
It would be funny if Scaredy met Chester, they are polar opposite personalities and they could learn a lot from each other.

What could Scaredy learn from hanging out with this character?
Scaredy is kind of a loner and so is Chester. They would probably find out that even though they are very different (one is shy and afraid and the other is bold and fearless) that they are deep down also very alike. And when we are aware that we have similarities, the world just seems like a friendlier place.

What situation would Scaredy find totally terrifying, but might offer him the ultimate learning experience?
Being trapped in a school for a whole day.

What lessons about storytelling and illustrating have you learned through writing these books?
Out of taking risks you are surprised by what you can accomplish. When I sit down and write a new Scaredy story, I never know where it’s going to take me, I’m always amazed to see the book developing in directions that I hadn’t imagined and how the topic of the book takes surprising turns.

What new skill / concept / subject would you like to learn next?
I would like to play the Cello and learn about quantum physics.

What new skill / concept / subject would you like Scaredy to learn next?
Yoga

Merci Mélanie! To view the rest of the interviews from the tour, head to the links provided in the sidebar.

See ya Scaredy!