The Cure For Book-Page-Face?

Photograph by Rebecca Miller http://www.rebeccamiller.co.uk/

You guys.  I don’t want to cause a nerd-riot or anything, but I may have discovered the long-sought-after cure for Crease-Cheek, AKA, Book-Page-Face, AKA, the Curse of Every Tired Literature-Lover: Falling Asleep While Reading.

Someone recently asked me what I do in the evenings, and I realized I had no answer for her. “I have absolutely no idea,” I told her, and it was true. I don’t usually watch television, and it seems like that should mean I’m doing something more worthwhile, but I don’t think that’s actually true. I think I wander around the apartment, thinking I’m cleaning, or else wander around the Internet, thinking I’m doing work, and then all of the sudden it’s 10:00pm and my body starts to shut down. So this summer I decided that since I apparently wasn’t doing anything more useful I ought to be sure to make time to read, since I feel very unlike myself when I’m not in the middle of a book and yet I haven’t always been in the middle of a book lately, because my reading time always comes post kiddo bedtime at 8:00 or sometimes, horribly, LATER, and so inevitably, I cozy up to a delicious novel and read a sentence and wake up with weird book-and-glasses imprints all over my face.

Now, I don’t have an e-reader, and I’ve honestly never considered one (except for a dark moment last winter, in the midst of packing up books to move, when I threatened to just throw them all out the window and buy a Kindle, clearly, a petulant bookworm cry for help). But I’m reading a novel by my very own dad right now, which he wrote for NaNoMo. Um, last year. It’s taken me a while, I admit. Anyway, I’m reading it on Harper’s I mean our family iPad. And guess what! The screen! It lights up! IT MAKES YOU STAY AWAKE! In that weird buzzy way that computer-staring makes your brain zoom around even if your body’s disintegrating with exhaustion, reading on a glowy screen makes falling asleep while reading seem old-fashioned, quaint, like donning a nightcap.

The novel, Dad, is a lot of fun to read (and PS how cool and daring is NaNoMo? I could never do it — the very idea terrifies me). And while, to be honest, I’m not sure I  could ever make the switch to e-readers, despite their wonderfully non-sleep-inducing qualities,  it’s nice to know that the option is there, for evenings when I don’t feel like counting as my only leisure time of the day the moment after both kids were strapped in the stroller and before I wheeled them out into the hallway. A good moment, that, but not quite as refreshing as a luxurious half-hour of reading actual words.

PS: Because I am conditioned by my day job, I just started thinking about what “Read More” related links to put down here, and then breathed a sigh of relief to remember that this is my own blog and I can be as irresponsible with my SEO as I want. Party times!

Movie Night: Linnea in Monet’s Garden. Also, POPCORN.

Linnea in Monet’s Garden. Your typical summer blockbuster popcorn movie.

One happy side effect of limiting your young child’s television consumption is that the poor starved thing is thrilled to watch anything at all. Tonight after putting the boy to bed (only 3 major head traumas today!), I announced to Harper that we were having movie night. She jumped out of her skin with excitement. LITERALLY. Okay, not literally. But she was pretty excited. “Really?” she kept saying. “REALLY?”

“Really,” I said. “You wait here while I make some popcorn.”

“POPCORN?” She was now rending her nightgown in her fists. “FOR US TO EAT?”

She’s never had popcorn before, but knows it’s a movie related thing and that movies are big kid things, so all of this was terribly thrilling. So thrilling that I was able to hustle past the flash and dazzle of the Netflix for Kids queue (“Is that Dora? Wait, go back, is that Angelina Ballerina??”) and select the quiet, dimly colored, Swedish cartoon “Linnea in Monet’s Garden.”

What followed was a very sweet and largely uneventful 30 minutes from the distant, pre-HD, mid-80s past. Linnea and her elderly neighbor Mr. Bloom love to look at Claude Monet’s paintings in books, so naturally they decide to fly to France and check out his garden in person. (Wait, what? I know, but whatever, you can’t have adventures with parents anyway, everyone knows that.) There are long, silent shots of paintings. Close-ups of gloppy impressionist lily pads. Photographs of peonies and poppies. And fancy special effects. By which I mean, still photos of Monet himself.

Harper was beside herself, cuddled up next to me, and occasionally throwing out a “Why does she love the bridge?” just because she can’t stop asking “Why”s. Mostly, she was really into the popcorn. And having the lights off. And doing a just me-and-her thing, because as much as we both really adore Ollie, his waking hours involve so much climbing and falling and crying and climbing and falling, we get tired. And I got to feel like maybe she’d learned a little bit about art history and appreciation.

After we wound down from all the excitement of the movie and Harper started getting ready for bed she sighed and said, “What a great day. I’m sorry you missed the puppets. Next time I’ll take you.” For our excellent babysitter had taken the kids to see the Swedish Marionettes in the park. (I know what you’re thinking — nice accidental Swedish theme to the day! If only I’d been thinking, obviously we would have visited Ikea to make it official.)  And then, “We should eat popcorn more often.”

And a movie buff is born.

The Read Balloon: Picture Books Without Words

Wonder Bear, by Tao Nyeu. The only bear Harper has ever not been afraid of.

There are few things that make us happier around here than a new stack of library books, all fresh and unread and fragrant of plastic covers and other kids’ boogers. But I have to admit, we have checked out some real losers. Once, sure, I used to look up books ahead of time, read children’s book bloggers’ recommendations, put appropriate reading material on hold, or at least pre-screen at the library. But these days every trip to our local branch is a hectic dash involving Ollie making avalanches of board books before toddling over to the evil bank of computers where inevitably some big kids are playing video games while Harper finds every single book she can find about ballerinas, and I frantically try to grab something that looks interesting, and we end up with books that mention terrible things like death and sibling rivalry.

Still, there is nothing like the joy of finding a great book completely by accident. The other day Harper was sifting through our newest haul and came running. “Mama! It’s one of those make-up-a-story books!” She LOVES make-up-a-story books. You know, those great wordless picture books that allow a child to invent her own story, by which I mean tyrannize her parents into telling stories until their tongues turn to wood. These books are so fun; they allow Harper’s crazy imagination to run wild;  I especially love them for their “Here, entertain yourself while I change this horrifying diaper” properties. Our most recent and thrilling finds were The Red Book and The Secret Box by Barbara Lehman — both amazing, evocative, and with that quality of adventure I want my kids’ childhood to have but maybe without the wandering down sewer pipes kind of thing. Still, lovely and surreal and mind-bending — like Haruki Murakami for toddlers.

The Red Book, by Barbara Lehman. Every time we look at the gorgeous page where the girl buys a huge bunch of balloons and takes off, Harper says, “That is not a safe idea!”

We’ve also loved The Adventures of Polo, by Regis Faller, The Wonder Bear, by Tao Nyeu, A Boy, a Dog, and a Frog, by Mercer Mayer. That last one is totally a lie, actually — I loved it but Harper was not that into it. But you get what I’m saying. Wordless picture books. Good stuff.

Any others we should check out? Maybe I’ll even actually reserve them at the library like some sort of thinking, planning fancy pants person.

M. Beth Bloom: My Interview with a Vampire (-YA-novelist)

M. Beth Bloom is one of those ridiculously prolific artists who makes you wonder how she does it all. I mean that in a very concrete way: how are there enough hours in the day to perform and tour with several bands, co-run an independent record label and a raw food catering company, write screenplays and novels, and have the best fashion sense on the West Coast? I like to think if I didn’t have these children of mine I would be this prolific and cool but that’s obviously not the case. I would spend way too much time reading the newspaper while wearing sweatpants. Anyway, what I do know is that if you visit L.A. and are lucky enough to see it through this lady’s eyes, it will transform from the traffic jam-and-movie-stars place you’ve heard about into a magic land of dreamy creativity.

Authoress M. Beth Bloom, just hanging out and totally not getting attacked by vampires.

So her debut novel, Drain You, which comes out in just two little days, is a delight: dark, funny, smart. The heroine Quinn effortlessly embodies that 90’s “whatever” zeitgeist; the book channels Heathers, Weetzie Bat, and the delicious spookiness of Interview With a Vampire. Drain You is a page-turner for its heart-racing plot, but also for the writing itself: in the world of this book, for example, handsome inane jerk-boys are called Spaders; Quinn is prone to hilarious, dry statements like “My taste in guys had gone from lame to dystopian,” and “Whit was surprisingly chill on the subject of ampire-vays.” (I somehow imagined the whole book narrated in Jeanine Garafolo’s voice.)

Drain You is ostensibly a YA novel (though its dark themes of death and vampire-sex definitely tilt it toward the older end of that spectrum), but I think it appeals equally to ancient readers such as myself for whom the 90’s references are less a period piece and more nostalgia for those teen years of driving around, bored, underdressed, undersupervised, and drinking way too much Diet Coke.

Miss M. Beth was kind enough to answer my questions about her book over email recently…
You’re also a musician. How do you think your love of music informs your writing, and vice versa?

Honestly, writing should absolutely come first, because I love it first and best, but it most often can’t because music is my JOB and pays my BILLS.  which is all so silly to say, that making music would be more lucrative and safe, but at this time, it actually is.  so mainly when i’m making music i’m thinking quite literally, shit, i should be writing, i want to be writing, i’d rather be writing (is that a bumper sticker already?).  band practice is usually preceded or succeeded by a long writing session.  being a writer hasn’t made me a better lyricist, but i do fantasize about writing about being an underground musician and how bizarrely straightforward and hardworking and unglamorous it is.
What made you decide to write a YA novel? Any YA authors you’re especially into or influenced by?

I didn’t really set out to write one.  I wanted to write about a teenager and then poof i had a YA book.  In my mind it was always sort of for adults and then after page 100,110,120, someone had to tell me i’d written a young adult novel.  i always think of that time of life as being really poignant and humorous (that is, conceptually, haha, in reality it’s DISTURBING and humiliating), a total wet lushland of writerly promise.  I’m actually quite proud to write for teens now – my new book is YA, and i’m sure i’ll write a few more.

as for YA authors i’m inspired by, i really love Blake Nelson’s “Girl” and Daniel Handler’s “The Basic Eight.”  both are genius – funny, sad, weird.
LA is an important character in this book, and is described in kind of rapturous terms. But my impression is that (and maybe it’s just that I live in New York) people love to be down on LA. Why do you think it gets a bad rap? How has your relationship with LA defined you as an artist? What about Southern California inspires you?

That’s interesting, i mean, i know of just the opposite.  whenever i have friends or relatives visiting here they’re freaking out over how beautiful the weather is, and the sea and the mountains, and the sunsets.  i think maybe people are down on “HOLLYWOOD” – but i have no idea why.  people are just as plastic and lunatic and rich and unhappy for no reason in other cities and states in this country.  hollywood has its charm, for sure.  i LOVE beverly hills.  and i love repping LA in my writing.  i think i’ll set every book i write here, at least in part, because i feel like the landscape and the vibe sets up a very clear mood.  other great female LA writers – Sandra Tsing Loh, Francesca Lia Block, Carolyn See – have seen it in its many facets and glories and i hope to continue that tradition.  i think the canyons are mysterious and lovely and wild and poetic – but i especially like when my teenage characters take that for granted and just see them as tree-y and boring.
How do you balance all your creative projects? I know you to be someone who seems to always be working on about a million things at once — screenplays, music, a catering company…how do you do it?

you give up a lot of personal time.  you lose a lot of what i think of as the “normal” early 30-something life-schedule – searching for houses, thinking about having and raising children, rewarding yourself with a little vacation, flying across the country to see family.  but i like the diagonal, slanted view of life at my age – it suits me.  it could all flip in a year, but right now i love to work, and suppose i love to be stressed (or else why wouldn’t i calm myself down!!?!?).  i think ambition is a serious itch, one some people can never scratch, and i didn’t realize until recently that i was one of those people.  every day is a strange goal-oriented set of hours where i’m crossing items off lists.  and then shopping online for expensive lipstick to remind myself i’m more human than drone bee.
As someone who was a teenager in the 90s, I loved that this was a kind of period piece. I feel like there was a kind of everyday nihilism that was allowed in teenage culture back then — Heathers, Nirvana — that everyone’s afraid of now, and that famous pre-September 11th apathy that make that decade the perfect setting for this story. But maybe that’s putting words into your mouth…what made you decide to set this in the 90s?

setting it in the 90s was one of those non-decision decisions.  i was a teenager in the 90s.  that’s the real reason. that’s what i know.  in a way, writing about teenage culture now – cell phone fads and current celebrities – was daunting and horrifying.  i thought to myself, how can i write this with any authenticity and sincerity?  how can i make it not seem like one of those bad disney shows where it feels like a boardroom of 50 year-old men and women are trying to appeal to kids with broad jokes about texting and justin bieber, and INSTEAD make it seem like one of those great disney shows where the writers are funny and timeless and remember that it’s all about being awkward and self-focused and ill-equipt to deal.  also the 90s are so rich in this way that the current times aren’t – mainly because it’s an era past.  we can study and obsess over and poke fun at it in a way we can’t really (not with much witticism anyway) of our present day.  i was encouraged though to tone the decade down and delete the name christian slater.
Why vampires?

that’s simply because vampire books are so funny and geeky, and 3 years ago when i wrote this, they were the most popular YA genre.  why not try your hand at something so mainstream and omnipresent, when that’s not really what you’re personally drawn to?  i always considered myself the outsider, the weirdo, in high school, so why not write a vampire book for a girl who’s cool in other ways?  who likes music and movies and books more than she likes other people?  who’s a mess socially, and selfish, and totally random about her affections.  and vampires, when they aren’t being buff or murderous, are actually really fun and mostly gay (thanks to anne rice).  it’s a great writing experiment – write about vampires who don’t care about being vampires, or ghosts who barely notice they’re dead, or werewolves who can’t really be bothered to be scary.  not to mention there’s great late 80s/90s vampire iconography to play with – the lost boys, near dark, buffy the vampire slayer, interview with the vampire.
Quinlan Lacy is a unique, fascinating, strong character — did you set out to create a strong female character? Were there other characters or people who influenced the creation of her?

ladies, if you’re a writer and you’re not interested in writing strong female characters, do me a favor and write under a man’s pen name.  it’s all about a personal, unique brand of feminism when you’re a woman writer – which is to say, you create that feminism and for each woman it’s different, but portraying women with originality and wit and spark is vital.  i always look to lorrie moore when i’m creating a new female character because she makes every woman seem like a brilliant, honest, melancholic, hopeful, wistful snowflake!  weetzie bat is always a great heroine to dissect – she loves sex and fashion and food and music – and the heroines of “the little friend” and “children’s hospital.”  but also the original buffy (as written by joss whedon and played by kristy swanson), who’s at first mean-spirited and stuck-up and shallow, but ultimately sweet and ass-kicking and serious.  i like all those things in a woman, ALL OF THEM!

also, quinn’s basically a version of me in high school.  definitely my attitude toward my parents and friends and school and boys.  my bedroom, my wardrobe, my messy eyeliner, my peeling off bjork poster.  moi sans vampires.

Is there going to be a sequel? PLEASE?

don’t think so.  not unless the book is wildly popular and there’s demand of some sort.  i can’t imagine myself as a vampire trilogy kind of writer.  though why not bust through that mainstream myth too!
If I were reading this with a book group I would need to engage everyone in a lengthy Team James/Team Whit/Team Morgan discussion..but not apprope here I guess.
For the record, I think that Whit seems really nice.

i love whit too.  whit’s the one you want to be with quinn and he’s the one ultimately she will be with (at least for one semester, haha), because she’s not going to BECOME a vampire.  she lives in the (sort of) real world!
Thanks so much! I really loved the book — could not put it down. Quinn’s the coolest. But she needs to drink less Diet Coke.

if someone wrote a realistic day to day account of what teenagers ate and drank, we’d all be horrified.  but yes, much less diet coke.  she’ll be the kind of 30 year-old who’ll only drink kefir and kombucha and judge anyone who even sips a soda water.  i may or may not know from personal experience.

Drain You. I am now hypnotizing you into to buying this book for all the cool teenage girls you know. You are viiiisiiiting Powells.com…you are orrrrdderrrrrinnnng the boooookkkk…
Is it working?

 

The Read Balloon: Jennifer A Bell, Illustrator Extraordinaire

Lately we’ve been reading the adorable Too Shy For Show-and-Tell over and over, and discussing it at unexpected times. “Why did Otto say ‘weaf’?!” Harper will demand out of nowhere, requesting a millionth read.

I was shy as a kid, so I know there’s nothing worse as a shy kid than having someone order you not to be so shy. It’s basically a guarantee that you won’t be able to speak for at least 15 minutes. So I respect Harper’s occasional bouts of bashfulness, and was relieved to find Too Shy For Show-and Tell, which offers a gentle way to discuss the idea of shyness. Sam, sweet giraffe, bends his formidable neck and goes silent when faced with the prospect of… dun dun! SHOW AND TELL. Shivers.

Too Shy For Show and Tell, Illustrated by Jennifer A. Bell, my friend. And written by some lady too.

But let’s get real here. What we love most about this book are its incredibly cute, amazingly expressive illustrations. And not just because they were done by my dear friend Jennifer A. Bell.

Some facts about Jenny:

1. She was my husband’s friend from high school who I stole when we all ended up living in Minneapolis at the same time. I had moved there for grad school and didn’t know anyone so I forced her to be friends with me. We spent many a snowy Minnesota night over at her family’s apartment, eating her freshly baked cookies, drinking wine, and getting into winding debates about I have no idea what with her intellectual husband.  She also taught me to knit. They were good times. And really good cookies. I miss those guys so much! The people that is. Okay, and the cookies.

2. Jenny has a son who is now a man of 11, but who used to be our child-crush before we had our own. We still say “Not idea!” all the time, which was his way of disapproving of things when he was 3.

3. Jenny has the prettiest eyes in the world. I know that’s not relevant here but thought it might be interesting to note.

and, to get back on task here, 4. She can draw anything at all. Truly. I’ve seen her artwork and it’s all great. In recent years she’s focused on illustration, probably because she has an uncanny knack for drawing animals that are so cute they make you want to die. See more of Jenny’s eyeball-exploding work here.

Harper was very intrigued by the fact that I know the illustrator of this book which she so adores, so she told me to ask Jenny some questions that had been on her mind. I transcribed the questions verbatim, and Jenny’s lovely, patient responses are below.

H: Why did you make David a turtle instead of a crocodile?
J: I thought that since David brings his socks for show-and-tell that he needed to be a turtle because honestly I’d love nothing more than to see a real turtle wearing socks. I think that would be ridiculously cute. It’s funny too because David is the only animal who never has clothes on!

H: Why does Sam have a striped shirt instead of no shirt at all?

J: Why not? If I were a giraffe I would always wear stripes.

H: Why does his mama have a long neck and also a cup of coffee?

J:Mama giraffes always have long necks. I also thought it would be fun to make her neck really long so it could stretch all the way across the page. I gave her coffee because most of the mamas I know (including myself) like to drink a lot of it.H: How did you get the words for the book? I think it’s because you’re so smart. [Ed. Note: I tried to explain that another person wrote them and probably emailed them to Jenny or something, but Harper figured we should go ahead and find out from the source.]
J: I wish I wrote this story! A lady named Beth Bracken wrote it.

H: Why is the back of the book different from the front? [Ed. Note: meaning the covers]

J: When the back is different than the front you get more pictures to look at.

H: Did you make the dots [on the endpaper]? Why are they different sizes?

J: I did make the dots! The giraffes have different size dots on their necks too so I wanted copy that pattern.

I asked Harper if she was sure she didn’t want to ask something like how Jenny does her illustrations. She shook her head and said, “I think she does them on a computer.”

And there you have it! Check out all of this prolific lady’s books: the complete list is on her website.

I’ll leave you with this ridiculous display of adorability:

An illustration by Jennifer A. Bell, for your squealing pleasure.

The Read Balloon: Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See. Again.

The first Read Balloon blog post I ever wrote involved then 19-month-old Harper’s then-obsession with Eric Carle and Bill Martin’s classic Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See. She loved it so much that eventually it physically pained us to read it. We were so sick of it we’d periodically hide it. The tune of the song-version of the book haunted our dreams. We suffered Brown Bear PTSD. And then, just when we thought we couldn’t move our weary mouths to read the damn book one single time more…the frenzy broke, and her toddlery obsessiveness latched onto another host.

Then we went and had another kid. And guess what? Ollie is currently in the throes of his first serious book obsession. And guess what else? IT’S FUCKING BROWN BEAR BROWN FUCKING BEAR.

This is a kid who never holds still. This is a kid who’d never sat through even the slightest board book before. Here are his other obsessions: Playing with balls (don’t snicker not that kind). Eating as many chicken nuggets as exist in the universe. Smacking things with sticks. Banging on things. Breaking things. Climbing things. Pushing the footrest over to the record player to climb up, hear music and also to break stuff. He likes to hug Harper until she falls down. He’s just a crazy physical baby-tot-person, with little use for words other than pointing and grunting or the occasional “NANA” if you’re not delivering a banana quickly enough.

So it’s really amazing to see Ollie dig through a pile of books for Brown Bear and then pick it up and bring it over and plop down in your lap and demand the book, grunting, “Bruh Beah!” over and over and over. Tonight at bedtime I had to actually remove the book from the room because he kept bouncing up and pointing to it. He would love nothing more than to rifle through it while nursing, which, I’m sorry, is just a little too much for me. I do want him to have pleasant associations with reading…but dude, I’m not a cup of tea.

So anyway, this book is amazing. Those big, simple, lovely, bright pictures. Those animals. The repetition in a way that feels a little like a game. And the summary at the end, that wonderful page where Ollie loves to point at each animal and name them. “Bruh Beah. Unh. Unh. Unh. Na-Na. Unh.” This book is somehow the perfect book for babies and toddlers. How did they do it? I imagine Bill Martin had some sort of underground laboratory in which he tested out possible stories on test-babies. Or maybe it’s Eric Carle’s vivid, blocky, child-hypnotizing hoo-doo. But this book has been two for two in our household. And this time, probably because my brain is more melted now after so many years of picture books, I don’t even mind reading it. Again and again and again and again. I’m just glad it provides a momentary distraction from all the climbing and shouting and breaking.

Carley Moore: YA Novelist, Poet and Mother to Harper’s BFF.

The Stalker Chronicles, by Carley Moore

Carley Moore is basically why I live in Brooklyn. I mean, where else does your daughter befriend an adorable little child, only to find out that this child’s parents are both poets, and that this child’s mother is also a novelist? We can share so many complaints that no one else cares about! And Harper and her beloved Malka can entertain each other while we do! I feel so lucky to know Carley, and extra-lucky that she wrote the excellent YA novel The Stalker Chronicles. But who cares what I think of this book (which is a total page-turner, by the way, starring a complex, unique teen female protagonist — when does that happen?) — I’m not a YA. That’s why I asked my friend and neighbor, a smart 11-year-old aspiring writer named Lena, to read the book and interview Carley. Lena reports that she liked the book, found the subject matter interesting, and most of all liked the end — and this, after she had just been talking about how she never likes books’ endings.

And now…The Lena/Carley Interview.

What gave you the idea to write about this?

I wrote my dissertation on Seventeen magazine, and I devoted a chapter to a very popular column (which still runs both in print and on the website) called “Trauma-rama!”  Maybe you know about “Trauma-rama!”, but basically the editors ask readers to submit embarrassing or humiliating stories; real life stuff that happened to them.  I found this column fascinating—all of the shame and cringing around boys and having a body and just being a normal girl.  I think this column was probably lurking somewhere in my brain when I dreamed up Cammie.  But honestly, I think we all do embarrassing, stalker-esque things all the time when we try to find love (I know I have!) and I wanted to write a book about that shows us a character who is very real and who also goes too far.

How long did it take you to write the book?

Hmmm…maybe about eight months to write the first draft.  I didn’t write every day of those eight months, but a couple of hours every other day or every third day.  I revised it later for both my agent and then my editor at Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, Janine O-Malley, but that was a much shorter process (probably about three weeks worth of intense work for both of those revisions).

Are there going to be more of these books?

I’m not sure.  It depends on what readers want.  I haven’t written a sequel to The Stalker Chronicles, but I’m open.  I have a new young adult manuscript called Cemetery Gates, which I hope to have out soon.  It involves ghosts and a spunky, confused girl who in some ways resembles Cammie.  I’ll have to keep you posted.

From the beginning did you already know how it was going to end, or did you think of ideas as you were writing?

I started by writing the flashbacks—the stories of past boys and girls who Cammie has stalked and then as I got those down, I started to come up with ideas for the contemporary story line with Cammie, Rosie, Toby, Henry, Tara, and Cammie’s parents.  But I was figuring out a lot of it as I wrote it.  Many writers say this, but it’s fun to see what your characters end up wanting to do or figuring out about themselves as you write them.  So, it some places it was very intuitive.  But I did know a couple of later plot points early on, like the garbage scene and what Toby had done in Pittsburgh.

While you were writing the book did you know what age you wanted children to read this at?

Cammie is 15, so when I was writing I thought the average reader would be 14 or 15.  But now that I have a little experience with my readers and with publishing, I see that she’s interesting for younger girls too.  There’s something very innocent and child-like about Cammie’s way of seeing things, and also she’s a teenage girl with urges and a major crush and a danger streak, so maybe that’s a bit older of a thing.

How did you decide on the characters’ names?

Cammie Bliss, Carley Moore (we both have three syllables, the same first initial, and similar sounding last names).  Everybody else’s name was very random, although I did know a guy named Toby in high school, but he was very different than the Toby in the book.

How did you begin writing it? Did you organize before your drafts?

I’m not a very organized writer.  I can’t really begin with outlines or plot summaries.  They make me nervous.  I just move from scene to scene and try to make each of those as good and interesting as possible.  Once I have about 40 pages, then I start to have a more long-term sense of where I’m going.

How many pages would you say you wrote each day?

One to five depending on the day.

At any point in the book did you not know what to write next or how the characters would respond to certain things?

Writing the garbage scene creeped me out and I made my husband and a couple of friends read it to make sure it was working.  I got stuck writing the ending too.  I think there are a couple of different versions of the last chapters.

If you keep writing about Cammie who would your next book be about? Would you write about another child who was a stalker and wanted to stop?

Cammie is probably the only stalker girl I will write about, but if she were to have a sequel I would want to explore her relationship with Toby and see how she handles being a girlfriend and actually having that “normal” relationship she so craves.

How do you imagine Cammie’s house?

It’s very much like some of the houses in the small upstate town where I grew up—Jamestown, NY.  Two stories.  The living room, kitchen, and dining room are downstairs and all of the bedrooms and the bathroom are upstairs.  I added a back staircase off the kitchen in Cammie’s house in the book because I needed a convenient place for her to spy on her family members.  Also, these houses are kind of old and have radiator vents that carry sound from one room to another—another great way for Cammie to eavesdrop.  The house itself is kind of a mess and the refrigerator is full of foods past their expiration date because Cammie’s parents are not fully present or able to deal with family life.

Thank you Lena for your wonderful and thoughtful questions!!!  I had a great time responding!!

The lovely and brilliant Carley Moore. I took this photo of her while Harper and Malka raced screaming from one end of the apartment to the other, and Ollie attempted to climb up Carley’s leg. And yet look how serene she looks! What a pro.

The Read Balloon: A Glorious Day

I’m officially behind on everything: this blog, every blog, to-do lists, returning phone calls, social interactions, personal hygiene. And this is in part because of a very wonderful, thrilling new stress: we are moving! Yes, after looking on and off for two years or something like that we have found an apartment and then we bought it and now we have to do something about getting ourselves in there. Hold on, you say. That’s nice, but isn’t this a Read Balloon post about books somehow? Stay with me here, yes, I’m getting to it.

So the place we are moving into is a big ole 1950′s co-op building with 55 units and some exciting features: elevator, laundry, and tons of kids. We’ve already been to a birthday party there — there are 10 kids under the age of 3 — and were regaled with tales of intra-building playdates on cold winter days, chase games in the corridors, laundry room toddler jamborees, and holiday parades in the lobby. We’re so excited!! It is going to be our favorite and our best!

All of this is relevant because the book Harper and I have been obsessed with lately is Amy Schwartz‘s excellent A Glorious Day. It’s one of those sweetly uneventful books (a friend who was roped into reading it 9 times in a row to Harper was like, “What is up with that book anyway?”) that really appeals to small children. Harper loves to read and reread details like what kids have for breakfast, or how they prepare for bed — after all, these are the main events of her life too.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The book is basically an ode to Brooklyn family life, and this (along with the wonderful illustrations) is why I’m okay with reading it 7,000 times a day. 10 kids (am I counting right?) live in a little 4-unit apartment building, and the book is concerned with all these kids — the baby, the little kids, the big kids — spend their day. They play in their small apartments, they meet up in the stairwells and on the stoop, they stroll down the block to the playground. They flow in and out of each others’ lives organically — hearing each other in the bath at bathtime, helping each other locate lost pets, seeing one another at the store on on the street. With all the aspects of city life that seems so unwholesome for growing children, I love a good reminder of what’s so wonderful about it — the built-in community, the sights and sounds, the constant stream of interesting stimuli.

Plus, Schwartz’s illustrations are so lovable. We’ve already packed the scanner or I would share my favorite page, which features the bedtime arrangements of all the kids in the buildings and all the various shared bedrooms (another newfound interest of mine) — the bunkbeds next to the crib, the twin beds lined up Madeline-style. I’m so glad we stumbled upon this book, which came to us at just the right time, as all good books do.

Now let’s hope I can somehow return it to the library on time. This move has me psychotically scattered, but that’s another post. A post I will never have time to write.

A Glorious Day by Amy Schwartz. Warning: This subversive text features children jumping on sofas and eating potato chips for breakfast. Just so you're prepared.

The Read Balloon: Charlie and Lola is our Favorite and Our Best

I know, I know — I’ve already written about the Charlie and Lola books and how much Harper adores them. Well guess what? She’s still obsessed. That last Charlie and Lola post was almost a year ago, people. That’s nearly a third of Harper’s life. Still, we search for a new book every time we visit the library so that we can rush home and curl up with cups of pink milk and tear through them. She and Ollie were Charlie and Lola for Halloween (her idea).  And for Christmas, we actually acquired some Charlie and Lola books of our own. (Thanks, Grandma!)

Here’s what I think is funny. So, on the one hand, we have I am Not Sleepy and I Will Not Go to Bed. This is one of Lauren Child’s original books, and I couldn’t love it more. Lola is such a zany nut, and her excuses why she can’t go to bed are absolutely amazing, and as always Charlie is so sweet and patient with her. To me, this book’s superiority is evident. The original Charlie and Lolas are just terrific — I love Slightly Invisible despite how long it becomes on the 82nd read, and I Will Never Not Ever Eat a Tomato is brilliant — green drops from Jupiter! — I Am Too Absolutely Small For School is great, too. I love me some Soren Lorenson.

Charlie and Lola in I Am Not Sleepy and I Will Not Go To Bed, aka The Harper T. Story.

The illustrations in the original Lauren Child books are a bit scratchier, sketchier, and less cutesie-cute somehow (their eyes? something’s different) than the cartoon-based spinoffs which proliferate in our library book stacks like so many bunny crackers in the bottom of the diaper bag. So, yes, this book is awesome, and especially for my child who says, every night, without fail, often while yawning, “I’m not sleepy. I’m going to stay up alllll night.”

Then, on the other hand, we also now have a copy of My Best Best Friend. This is one of the cartoon spinoffs, and in my mind the difference could not be clearer. The illustrations are a bit neater, the colors smoother and more computery, and the dialogue not as funny. The story of a best friend worried about a new friend and feeling left out, I mean, come on, I just read that Fancy Nancy with the exact same theme. It’s so ordinary. And of course, Harper LOVES it. She has it memorized already, really. She’s obsessed with the idea of best friends. She loves the part where Lola feels left out. She extra-loves Charlie’s friend Marv, who I think she has a little crush on. Anyway, of course I’m glad she loves it. I’m glad she continues to love this series. There are just so many of them! And even the worst of them isn’t – shudder -Dora.

Somehow we have made it this long without Harper learning about the cartoon version of Charlie and Lola. I’m sure it’s adorable, but I love how she’s made these characters her own. Just tonight she grabbed my hand and said, “You’re my best, best friend!” My heart was about to melt when she added, “Lola! And I’m Lotta!” At least I got to be Lola.

(PS: While we’re on the subject of Charlie and Lola…how awesome is this Charlie and Lola dollhouse?!)

The Read Balloon: Playtime Peekaboo board book

And now for the first ever Read Balloon post inspired by a favorite book of The New Guy, Mr. Ollie Baby Himself. At 8 months or so (who can know for sure?), the boy formerly known as Boombox is starting to express some quite sophisticated tastes in literature. To wit, this week’s pick, DK Publishing’s Playtime Peekaboo, author unknown.

I’m trying to get through this post without writing anything disparaging about this board book. Let’s just say I’m not the one whose soul is stirred by Playtime Peekaboo’s sturdy pages, stock photographs of happy babies, and various textures.  But Ollie really really really loves this book. He literally squeals with delight as he lifts the flaps and discovers, all over again, the fuzzy little bear. And we all know that audible squeals are the best reviews any book can hope for. If his reaction is any indication, for babies, Playtime Peekaboo is a delight for the senses. Apparently, it even tastes really good.

Harper also loved this book when she was this age, the age of peekaboo, and I remember appreciating that this book has flaps that are actually sturdy enough to survive the enthusiastic grip of a semi-coordinated baby fist. It’s not the prettiest board book  in the world, but it is exactly what it needs to be. If you have a baby, I will guarantee you that baby will really love this book. I bet you…my copy of this book.

And don't miss the exciting sequel, Bedtime Peekaboo. Harper used to kiss every page goodnight before bed. Oh, babies!