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I decided to repost this from two years ago because it involves the love of a father for a son. This experience from the toy store reminds me that gifts do not always come wrapped in pretty paper with spiral ribbon. They sometimes come in the shape of stories. This story was a gift I received, and one I will treasure as long as I live. Happy Father’s Day!

A WHALE FOR STEVEN

                                                    by Betsy Devany

 Closing time has come and gone at Olde Mistick Village, the sidewalks are filled with more ducks than people shopping. The neighboring stores are dark, their doors locked, and their employees on their way home. It is time for me to call it a night.

       The marionettes swing in the breeze; the pink flamingo seems to wink at me. I gather the puppets outside to carry them into the store. Behind me there is quacking. The three ducks who rule our front yard are on alert. The white leader honks at a lone male that slipped under the fence and entered their territory. The leader’s two sidekicks join in the chase, nipping at the uninvited younger mallard. The white duck pecks at the intruder’s neck; his wings flap with agitation.  I move towards the gang of birds, clapping my hands until they separate.

       “Do you break up fights every day?”An older man walks in my direction, followed by a younger man. With the same chiseled chins, the two are clearly father and son.

       “This is the first fight I’ve seen today.”

       “You still open? We won’t be long, I promise.”

       “Uh . . . sure, yes, come on in.” I smile.

       “We need to hurry, Steven. This woman wants to close.”

       Steven, who looks to be in his late thirties, dashes into the store. “Whales, where are your whales?” His attention shifts rapidly from shelf to shelf. “I need a whale.” He looks up. He looks down. Lions are pulled from their shelves. Tigers. Bears. Cats. Dogs. None of the stuffed animals are right. Hoping to locate the whale he remembered having as a child, Steven continues to push toys aside. He mutters, “Big. Brown. Brown with beans . . . Big. Brown. Brown with beans . . .”

       “He’ll never find it, not the way his was, with the fabric worn around the tips of the eyes and the end of the tail from his constantly caressing it.” His father adds. “And the head was flat from Steven leaning into it, night after night, when he was a child.”

       Steven, who has traveled over an hour to get here, is missing more than just a stuffed whale from his childhood.

       We do not sell brown whales in the toy store, nor do we sell giant whales. The largest we have is a 24-inch white beluga whale. I hand Steven the beluga.  He brings it close to his nose, leans his cheek against it, and slides his face back and forth brushing the fabric. “Do you have a bigger whale . . . brown whale . . . filled with beans?”

       “No, we don’t, I’m sorry.” While I search for anything close to what he describes, Steven paces . . . and paces . . . and then he notices the three-foot lobster displayed on a high shelf above his head. He stands on his tiptoes and reaches for the stuffed sea creature. “This will do,” he says.

       “No, Steven, we’ve done this before.  You’re not thinking clearly.” The father takes the lobster away and leaves the beluga whale in his son’s arms. He sighs—a long sigh. His hair is grey and thin. He removes his glasses and wipes them clean. He sighs again, and then says to his son, “We’ve made these trips over and over again, from New York to Massachusetts, and to anywhere else that might hold the promise of a brown whale. Steven . . .  Steven, look at me, son.”

       Steven’s hold on the beluga whale loosens. I catch it before it hits the ground. “We have catalogs. Perhaps I can find a large enough whale for you,” I say and hand him back the beluga.

       The ends of the father’s mouth turn up, forced out of kind appreciation.  “That’s nice of you, but we’ve been looking for a very long time. I never know what he wants.”

       I head to the back stock room, grab six catalogs, and carry them to the front desk. Steven follows me, his arms clutching the beluga.

       “How big of a whale do you want?”  I ask.

       “Very big.” Steven focuses on his shoes while clinging to the toy. We go back and forth.  I flip through pages. He peers at pictures. “No, not right,” he tells me over, and over, and over again.

       His father stands next to him. “Steven, look at me.  Look at me, please.”  Finally, Steven lifts his eyes. “We aren’t going to find a whale. Not like your whale.”

       “I want a whale,” says Steven. “I want a big, brown whale with beans.”

       “Steven, we need to leave. This kind lady wants to go home.”

       “My whale, we came to get my whale,” Steven reminds his father.

       The father turns away from the counter and gently tugs at his son’s arm. Steven digs his heels in. Thirty minutes have passed since they first walked into the store.

       “Tell me about your whale,” I say.

       “He doesn’t know what he wants. I’ve been looking and looking—they just don’t make toys like they used to.” His father tugs again.

       “Steven, what did you love most about your whale?”

       Steven turns, looks at me, and walks back to the oak counter. He runs his hands along the wood.  “I liked the way the beans inside felt.”

       “They don’t make animals with those beans anymore. Too many safety concerns,” I say.

       Steven swirls his fingers around the shape of a large knot in the oak.

       His father sighs. “Thank you for trying, but he’ll never understand.”

       I arrange the pens next to the register; straighten the shopping bags. I glance in Steven’s direction. “Besides the beans, what else did you love about your whale?”

       “Soft, it was soft . . . I could sleep on it.”

       We have a two-foot penguin, but it is not soft.  We have large stuffed dogs, but they are not whales. We have a three-foot lion, but the color is tan, like a pale honey.

      Then I remember Gus. “I have a bear, a large bear,” I tell him. “And it’s brown.”

       Steven studies the floor. “I want a whale. I need to bring a whale home tonight.”

       The three of us stand in silence. I check the time. The owners must be wondering why I haven’t called with the day’s sales.

       “Let me show you the bear,” I say.

       “It’s hopeless. We’ve kept you long enough,” the father says.

       “I’ll be right back.” From the stuffed animal room, I carry the three-foot floppy bear to the front desk. Gus has lived in the store for quite some time now. Before I close up at night, he gets an extra pat.

       “He’s very soft,” I tell Steven. 

       “It’s not a whale.”

       Now, I am the one studying my shoes. “I won’t be able to find you a large whale tonight.  Just hold the bear, see what you think.  He’s brown and soft. You can lean into him.”  I hand Steven the bear.  

       He pushes his nose against Gus.  He plops Gus against the counter and leans into him. “He is soft. I like him.”

       “Yes, I like this bear myself—very much.”

       The father pulls at the price tag. “The bear is $130. You didn’t bring enough money.”

       Silence returns.  I shift the catalogs together and form a single stack, place them on the floor.

       The father stares at the door.  Steven’s face is buried into Gus’s fur. 

       I want to buy him the bear, show him he can love Gus as much as the whale.  I want to watch him walk down the sidewalk with the bear in his arms, even though it’s always hard when I let go of a stuffed animal I’ve grown attached to, but Steven did not bring enough money.

      Then, holding the bear tightly in one arm, Steven reaches into his pants pocket.  He removes a black leather wallet, worn with holes visible at every corner. It is a wonder the wallet doesn’t explode all over our wooden floor. A penny pokes through one end, but does not fall out. His wallet is thick with papers, some yellowed, some coated in a worn plastic. There is almost five inches thick of paper memories.

       His father settles into a stance; feet spread apart, firmly planted on the wooden floor—a familiar routine, I imagine. His hands out of his pockets, he turns his palms upward, as if waiting at a communion rail.

       Steven pops the wallet open and forms the shape into what appears to be a triangular leather cup. “I want the bear,” he says. 

       “Let’s count,” says his father.

       Steven places two twenties on our wooden counter, then another crumpled twenty.

       “How much is that,” asks his father.

       “Sixty,” says Steven with confidence.

       I separate the bills. “Eighty, you have eighty dollars here.”

       Steven pulls out a five and a ten—ninety-five. When he stretches the leather further, the penny falls to the floor, where it remains. Next, come the one-dollar bills, all carefully folded into triangles, the points as worn as the wallet.

       “One. Two.  Three,” he counts.

       There is something magical about the wallet, which is not diminishing in size.  Instead of pulling rabbits from a magician’s hat, he conjures up one-dollar bills out of faded leather. How does the wallet hold all of the tightly folded shapes?  I expect him to run out of money, yet Steven continues to hand another and another dollar bill to his father, never looking up or breaking his rhythm. Not once.

       His father unfolds and flattens each bill, using a quarter to work out the creases.

       The stack of money on the counter grows higher.

       I wait and watch.  “Why do you fold the dollar bills into triangles?” 

       Holding one bill in his hand, Steven lifts it to the corner of his right eye. “When I’m sad . . . this makes me feel better.”  He taps the edge of the triangular shape against his skin. Three times. He passes the bill to his father.

       “May I ask what Steven has?”

       The father talks and talks and talks, like a dam overflowing. Like a man who hasn’t been noticed in years.

       I cannot tell you what the father was wearing that day, but I can tell you his words—his story. I can describe the medicine bottle he has carried in his pocket from the seventies, day after day, year after year. The label so worn that it barely reveals the name of the pharmacy. Except for the lingering chalky stink of medicine, the bottle remains empty. The father rolls the medicine bottle between his palms as he tells me that the colored dye in the medicine, administered when Steven was a baby, caused a cerebral allergic reaction. Steven has two markers of autism, and some mental retardation. Years later, they learned that the damage was irreparable—long after Steven’s mother left, taking his brother and sister with him. Steven was six years old at the time. The mother changed her last name, never contacting Steven and his father.

       The father talks and talks while Steven continues to pull one-dollar bills from his wallet. He earns $100 per month, emptying trash containers at a pharmaceutical company.

       “You really love that wallet,” I say.

       Steven nods, eyes still downcast, his larger lip protruding over his top lip—almost swollen looking.

       “When did Steven lose his whale?  Do you have a picture?”  I ask the two men, one talking and talking, the other pulling triangles of money from a worn leather wallet.

       His father quickly shakes his head.  “No, not with us; it upsets him.”

       “It makes me sad,” adds Steven.  He taps the corner of his right eye with another folded dollar bill.

       “How long ago did he lose this whale,” I ask.

       “Six, he was six years old,” his father says.

       I lose count of the money on the counter; imagine Steven as a six-year-old boy snuggled against his mother, the whale by his side until the two of them banished at the same time. Is his search for a whale or a mother who abandoned him?

       “You only have $128. Are you sure this is what you want?” the father asks.

       Steven hugs the bear to his chest. Gus’s feet dangle at his knees. “I want the bear. It’s a soft bear.”

       “You don’t have enough money,” his father tells him.

       Steven opens his wallet. He peers into it, pulls out the yellowed papers. 

       The magic is gone.

       “I . . . I can—give you 10% off.”

       “You don’t have to do that,” the father says.

       “Yes, I do.” I smile and ring up the sale, recount the money and hand him $4 change. I make a mental note to pay the difference after they leave. Steven immediately folds the dollar bills into triangles before tucking them into his wallet.

       “I hope the bear makes him happy.” The father strokes Gus’s arms. “I never see any emotion from him anymore, he’s on so much medicine; it numbs his emotions, his personality. At least he doesn’t scream and cry like he used to. But he never laughs or smiles, either.”

       “I’m hungry,” Steven says.

       “What do you feel like eating?” I ask.

       “Steak!” 

       I give the father directions to a nearby restaurant and recommend they walk through the village so they can stop at the pond to admire the newly hatched baby ducks. 

       “I have to put my bear in the car first, so he’s safe,” says Steven. 

       The two men step outside the store. I bend over to unlatch the door in preparation for closing, and as I do, Steven turns to me and smiles, revealing slightly yellowed teeth.

       “You have a beautiful smile,” I say.

       The ends of Steven’s mouth turn up even more. Now his father grins. “I haven’t seen him smile is such a long time. It is worth more than the cost of the bear, more than the time in the car and the price of gas.”

       “I hope your search is over. How long has he been hunting for the whale?” I ask.

       “Thirty years, just Steven and me, we’ve been looking for thirty years.”

       Steven’s smile is broad. He is thirty-six years old and no longer fixated on his shoes.

       “Thank you for listening,” the father says. “Thank you for allowing me to go on and on.”

       “That’s what I am here for. Have a nice night.”

       If  I could, I would have found them a large brown whale filled with beans. But all I found was a bear named Gus, and for once, it seemed to be enough.

Yesterday on a whim I got a ticket for the matinée of Pippin (which took home a clutch of Tonys last Sunday) and it was money well spent. In particular, Patina Miller and Andrea Martin were fantastic as were all the acrobatics and other circus-centered actions. (I was especially impressed with a very casual-in-passing-knife act in the middle of one number and…Andrea Martin….boy oh boy!). There was even a Lucy-like-dog* at one point.

The original production was playing when my family moved to the NYC area from the Midwest and I vividly remember the following television ad with Ben Vereen and so shed a sentimental tear when the familiar music began.

Here’s Patina’s version (followed by “Glory”):

*Little black poodly-like thing.

Boosted by enthusiastic reader recommendations and strong online sales, the popular teen novel Maggie Vaults Over the Moon continues to soar as a best-seller at Watermark Books & Cafe, the region’s No. 1 bookstore. Listed among works by world-class writers … Continue reading →

I've included this rhyming story before but I can't pass up using again on this day, the first Father's Day without my dad. He passed away in January and all of his family areis missing him today. But he wouldn't want us to be droopy-eyed about him missing this day with us. I had him for 65 years and even he would probably say, that's long enough. And then there were three generations: My son, Chris, and his son, Dylan, with me hiking Bodega Head in California last week on June 8.

Cherish the fathers who are still with us, wherever they may be. And hold in your hearts the fathers we can only remember this day. May the Lord bless you and keep you all and may we all be sons with whom our fathers are well pleased.

Dad, Can I Help?
By Bill Kirk

The long weekend beckoned—
I’d written my list.
And I was quite sure
There was nothing I’d missed.

No yard work distractions,
No carpools to do.
The weekend was mine
Until I was through.

I had all my hardware
And lumber galore.
I’d work on the deck;
Replace an old door.

I set up my saw
And tested my drill.
With anticipation
I felt quite a thrill.

“No holding me back,”
I thought, a bit smug.
Then all of a sudden,
I felt a slight tug.

Stopping my work,
I turned with a glance
To see my small son
Grab the leg of my pants.

What could I do?
Did I have any choice,
When my little son asked
In his little boy voice?

“Dad, can I help?
I just need some glue
And maybe a nail,
Some wood and a screw.”

“I’ll be very careful
And do what you say.
I promise, I’ll try
To stay out of your way.”

I felt the deck slipping
Right out of my grasp.
And the door would remain
On its very last gasp.

We built a small boat
With a deck and a sail
Out of two bits of wood,
An old rag and a nail;

Then battled some pirates
And found chests of gold.
With each new adventure
A story was told.

We sawed and we hammered
Until we were done
With all of our work—
Like father, like son.

I never did finish
My list on that day,
Instead I spent time
With my son, just to play.

And those weekend projects?
Sometimes they must wait.
For some life appointments,
A Dad can’t be late.

Sue Cowing is an award winning poet and author who’s lucky enough to live in Hawaii!  She’s also a lover of history, art and Asian culture which have found their way into YOU WILL CALL ME DROG, a fascinating story for young readers with a tiny bit of scariness but also bullies and aikido and a military academy and … well, you’ll just have to read it and see for yourself!

Can you tell us how this book, or any of your books, came to be published?

I had published lots of poems and stories, both for children and adults, but You Will Call Me Drog was my first novel, and I didn’t realize that I was submitting it to editors prematurely. As a result, I got a lot of enthusiastic and complimentary. . .rejections.  Then Drog, the puppet character in the story said to me: “So are you going to do this for the rest of your life?  Get me an agent!” As it happened, I found just the right one that same day.  She was smitten with Drog and with Parker, but she also asked questions that led to some big revisions, and when we were both happy with the changes, the book sold in a month.

Tell us why we should read this book.

Because I wrote it just for you!

Because you’ve never read anything quite like it.

Who or what has been the greatest inspiration for your stories?

I’d have to thank my Mom who read us lots of poems and stories—myths, adventures, fables, mysteries, fairy tales (I loved anything with a magic object in it)—and told us stories from her own life.  She taught us to love language, art, music, and the natural world and to use our imaginations.  Her motto was “make your own.”

You have the chance to give one piece of advice to teen readers.  What is that?

Well, since I spent most of my teenage years trying to be the kind of person to whom no one would give unsolicited advice, I guess I’d better not give any!

What’s an important “nugget” that you’d like readers to take away from your book?

Drog would sum it up as “Speak for yourself” or “You’re nothing without a voice. Nada.”   But then Drog doesn’t hesitate for a minute to give unsolicited advice.

The philosophy of Aikido is an important element in this novel, and Parker’s Aikido teacher sums it up this way:  It is wrong to hurt someone, so if you prevent someone from hurting you, you are doing them a favor.”  Parker’s eventual solution to his puppet problem is a kind of Aikido solution.

Why did you write this book?

To have some serious fun!  I love to read and write stories that are completely realistic except for one impossible element—in this case the talking puppet—so that things are always teetering a little.  Also I’m fascinated by the questions explored in this story, such has how to live with controlling, boundary-crossing people and how deal with violence without becoming violent yourself.  And Drog’s outrageous comments throughout inject a little humor into otherwise dire situations.

Why do you write?

I once heard Gary Hoffman, a master cellist, say: “If you do something you love and do it as well as you can a for as long as you can, you become more and more yourself, and what could be better than that?”  For me writing is that something I love.

Why do you write for young people?

Eight- to twelve-year-olds are my favorite people on the planet. I believe they’re  the growing tip of the human spirit.  They care so much about things, they’re open to possibilities and a little magic, and they love and enter into stories completely.  I know they can hear me.  Some adults, the wise ones I believe, retain a childlike joy and wonder and simply add to it as they learn from experience growing older.  I write for them, too.

Do you have a favorite quote?

Yes, it’s from poet Theodore Roethke’s notebooks and it’s framed on my wall:  “Trust all joy.”

Is there a sequel?

No, but some readers have urged me to write a prequel about Drog’s life before he ended up in the junkyard trash can.

What are you working on now?

I’m just finishing a story in three voices—one for each of two boys who are different from one another in almost every way, and the third, in graphics, a brilliant and funny dog named Bravo that both boys love. Of course the dog doesn’t actually speak.  Or does he?   I’ve also just finished a retelling of the Three Billy Goats in which the youngest goat, a girl, persuades the troll to go vegetarian.

Why should kids read books when there are so many other things to do?

Because there are so many wonderful stories in them!

Because identifying with the characters in books helps you imagine possibilities and think about different ways to live and be human.

Some favorite books?

Many, many, but here are a few:  The Book of Everything by Guus Kuijer, The Book Thief, by Marcus Zusak; Bud, Not Buddy, by Christopher Paul Curtis; Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy, by Gary Schmidt, Under the Baseball Moon by John H. Ritter, The Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, and A Christmas Memory by Truman Capote.

Can you deal better with wind or rain? 

I wouldn’t like to live where it doesn’t rain much.  I need my surroundings to be wet and green.  Rainy days make me want to write and make things. That’s why I’m happy living in Hawaii!

Favorite comfort food:

Right now it’s fresh strawberry mochi, the kind with a whole strawberry inside coated with azuki bean paste.  Yum!  Also just about anything dark chocolate.

Thanks, Sue!  You can learn more about Sue at her website.   Drog even has a blog!

START YOUR NOVEL

• 29 Plot Templates
• 2 Essential Writing Skills
• 100 Examples of Opening Lines
• 7 Weak Openings to Avoid
• 4 Strong Openings to Use
• 3 Assignments to Get Unstuck
• 7 Problems to Resolve

“I just want my novel out there.”
Ouch.
Too many times lately, I have heard people say this about their self-publishing efforts. Out there. I just want it out there. What does that even mean?

It means a couple things:
First, it means that the writer can find closure to his/her writing process. It means there is a finished product and the creative process has ended. Now, it’s up to everyone else to do whatever they will do with that product: ignore it, read it, praise it, trash it. But the writer can move on. There’s value in this, of course, to have something finished and not on the back burner, to have it stop nagging.

Second, the writer usually means that the story, novel, picture book, or nonfiction book will find readers. Here’s where the writer is wrong. The book will not find readers by itself. Guaranteed.

In their fascinating book, DECISIVE, Chip and Dan Heath talk about one flaw in the decision making process, namely, that people overestimate their own success and ignore solid data in front of them. In fact, most self-published books sell less than 100 copies. If your book is OUT THERE without any support, you will NOT sell copies. Your friends and family–because they love you–may buy copies, but that’s usually the 100 copies that get sold. Do not make this mistake (and how many ways and how strongly can I say this?), you will not sell copies if you do not market.

OUT THERE–publishing a book without marketing a book is not going to work.
Many of you will ignore this fact: you will convince yourself that your story is different and will beat the odds. OK. Do what you have to do. Put it OUT THERE. But it will not sell.

Unless.

A self-published book needs marketing. That means the publishing house (that’s you!) needs a platform, a network of connections that are proven places to sell a book. The author (that’s you!) needs to be working to support the publisher (Oh, that’s you, too!) to sell the book. This can be accomplished through any number of means: catalogs, speaking engagements and back of the room sales (BOTR), online venues, guest blogging, schools, special sales to corporations, gift shops, and on and on. The venues for sales of books are endless. But you must focus somewhere and work to get your book into those venues.

OUT THERE? You want your book out there? Get it out of your head by doing a small printing and giving copies to friends and family as Christmas gifts. But if you really want it OUT THERE in the world wide market place, get ready to work.

Instead, you should be saying, “I want to work hard to get my story into the hands of the right readers.” Now THAT is a worthy goal of self-publishing.

LATEST NEWS

The North Carolina Press Foundation is offering four of Artie’s serial stories to Newspapers in Education (NIE) newspapers across the United States. This year’s theme is Dig into Reading. In addition to the NIE, the foundation will also be offering Artie’s work to libraries and other newspapers throughout the United States. To read the stories please click on the NC Press Foundation link listed above.

Two of Artie’s children’s books will be featured on Ameba TV beginning this summer. Based in Canada, Ameba TV is presently streamed worldwide in million of homes.

Ameba TV’s rich, diverse content library delivers thousands of hours of educational, preschool, musical, and multilingual programming to children ages 2 to 12. The popular children’s streaming TV service features award-winning shows, like WordWorld, The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That, BusyTown Mysteries, and Ruby Skye PI.

More to come!

View from a Zoo – Bored with her life, a housecat seeks out adventure in this new fully illustrated picture book coming in the summer of 2013. Written by Artie, the book is being illustrated by the incredibly talented Indian artist Sunayana Nair Kanjilal. More to come as the book’s release date gets closer….

Use of any of the content on this website without permission is prohibited by federal law

Now that school is out for the summer, you may be wondering how to keep your children entertained without spending tons of money.  If finances are tight, don’t despair.  There are plenty of fun filled activities you can do with kids to make the summer a memorable one.

1. Pitch a tent for the GREAT AMERICAN BACKYARD CAMPOUT.  You can sleep under the stars in your own backyard. Identify constellations, make s’mores (check out my recipe under the recipe section of this blog). Tell stories, sing songs, eat hotdogs, and do everything you’d do at a camp far away.  Visit: http://www.nwf.org/great-american-backyard-campout.aspx

2.Check out: http://www.parade.com/summerschool   for 14 days of how-to steps and expert tips on everything from building a sand castle, to how to skip stones. You can also learn things like HOW TO HOST A BACKYARD MOVIE NIGHT, SPOT CONSTELLATIONS, TEACH KIDS TO FISH,  and even HOW TO MAKE YOUR OWN ICE CREAM.

3. Put on a Show.  A Puppet Show that is.  There are tons of videos and sites on how to make your own puppets and puppet theatres.  To get you started, enter: Making puppets in your search engine and a load of sites will appear.  Here’s a good one:

http://www.about.com/od/puppets                                     

You can also use stuffed toys, pencils with funny tops, or socks with painted faces.  Or even cookies!  (see photos) Let your imagination run wild.

To make it a real event, sell popcorn and lemonade.

  4.And…you can’t go wrong with water.  If you don’t have a pool, a sprinkler on a hose works great.  Squirt guns and water balloon fights are sure cures for boredom and cool everyone off on a hot day.  For little ones, fill up a bucket with water and let them “paint” the sidewalk to their hearts content.  Add a few cups for pouring and you’ll keep them entertained for a long time.

This Father’s Day card was sent in by Tracy Campbell to help wish all you Dad’s and single Mom’s a Happy Father’s Day. Tracy was featured on Illustrator Saturday on May 18th.

I missed getting Tara Lazar’s debut book THE MONSTORE at the conference last weekend. I took too much time, before I tried to buy her and all the books were gone, but Amazon has plenty in stock. I am sure I will see Tara soon at another event to have her sign it for me. Looks like a great picture book.

Tara Lazar is a children’s book author, foodie, mother and boogeyman assassin (currently booked at 3:00 a.m. nightly).  She writes quirky, humorous picture books featuring magical places that adults never find. Her debut THE MONSTORE releases in June 2013, with I THOUGHT THIS WAS A BEAR BOOK and LITTLE RED GLIDING HOOD to follow in 2014. She’ll also debunk the rule “Grow Up, Be Serious” in BREAK THESE RULES, a YA anthology due in September 2013. Tara lives in New Jersey with her husband and two daughters. Discover original stories, book reviews, giveaways and boogeyman extermination advice at www.TaraLazar.com.

The Monstore is a one-stop shop for all your monsterly needs in this enormously funny story that’s full of friendly, kooky creatures.

At the back of Frankensweet’s Candy Shoppe, under the last box of sour gumballs, there’s a trapdoor.

Knock five times fast, hand over the bag of squirmy worms, and you can crawl inside The Monstore.

The Monstore is the place to go for all of your monsterly needs. Which is perfect, since Zack definitely has a monsterly need. The problem? His pesky little sister, Gracie, who never pays attention to that “Keep Out” sign on Zack’s door—the one he has made especially for her.

But when Zack’s monsters don’t exactly work as planned, he soon finds out that the Monstore has a few rules: No Refunds. No exchanges. No exceptions.

Publishers Weekly

Debut author Lazar takes readers to an underground emporium, the Monstore, which trades in “the most useful monsters, just right for doing tricky things around the house.” Tricky things like handling “pesky little sisters.” However, the monsters that Zach purchases aren’t working as advertised. Instead of scaring Gracie, the enormous, three-eyed, orange-furred Manfred teams up with her to frighten Zach. And because the Monstore’s return policies are none too friendly, Zach purchases more monsters (“Add another,” suggests the wild-eyed shopkeeper. “A monster threesome is more gruesome than a twosome”), all of which wind up tormenting Zach. Readers shouldn’t be surprised that Gracie is delighted, not frightened, by the blobby, tentacled additions to the household—Burks’s (Beep and Bah) colorful creatures are firmly in the scary-cute vein of Monsters, Inc. (in one scene, they use a purple snake monster to jump rope with Gracie). Zach gets a chance to prove himself as a capable older brother, but this story really belongs to Gracie.

Ages 4–7. Author’s agent: Ammi-Joan Paquette, Erin Murphy Literary Agency. Illustrator’s agent: Kelly Sonnack, Andrea Brown Literary Agency. (June)

ISBN-13: 9781442420175
Publisher: Aladdin
Publication date: 6/4/2013

Tara Lazar wished there was a Monstore when she was a kid so she could’ve spooked her pesky little brother. Her mischievous imagination led her to write picture books, and she founded PiBoIdMo (Picture Book Idea Month). She lives in New Jersey with her husband and her two daughters. Visit http://www.TaraLazar.com for stories, giveaways, and contests for kids of all ages (like Tara!).

James Burks started drawing as a little kid and hasn’t stopped since. Along the way he’s written and illustrated some books of his own, including Gabby and Gator, Beep and Bah, and Bird and Squirrel on the Run. James lives in southern California with his two little monsters.

Talk tomorrow,

Kathy

I was craving a rice salad, but without the rice. Something that’s all about soaking up a good sauce. Roasted cauliflower has been my recent go-to sauce-soaker-upper, and I was really happy with what I came up with. Here’s the skinny:

Olive Oil

1 head Cauliflower, finely chopped

2 or 3 handfuls Grape or Cherry Tomatoes

Dressing:

2 cloves Garlic

Olive Oil

Red Wine Vinegar

1 T Dijon Mustard

tiny drip of Honey (or something else if you’re vegan)

Lemon Juice

a few tablespoons or more Minced Chives

a few tablespoons or more fresh Oregano, chopped (basil or parsley would be good, too)

1 T Capers

Salt and Pepper to taste

Chopped Walnuts (optional)

Oil a baking sheet and throw the cauliflower on it with a couple of garlic cloves. Roast at 375F, for about 20 minutes. Halve the tomatoes and roast them for about 20-30 minutes as well. This brings out their flavor like crazy.

I’m not really a measuring kind of person when it comes to dressing (or, let’s be honest, for a lot of things). If you really want measurements, you could use a basic vinaigrette and add the extras. I think I’d add even more herbs next time. I really wanted something that was so green it would color the cauliflower, but my herb garden wasn’t quite in full swing when I made this.

Chop up the roasted garlic and whisk it together with the other dressing ingredients.

Toss the cauliflower with the dressing and tomatoes. Add walnuts. Yum. I realized later that the dressing flavors were inspired by the broccoli gribiche recipe from Heidi Swanson’s Super Natural Every Day.

What are you cooking this summer? I’m always on the lookout for interesting salads. Hope you had a great weekend and a happy Father’s Day.

So I am a total newbie to this Google+ stuff, but I was fortunate enough to be invited to be part of a Google+ hangout sponsored by Candlewick Press.

The theme of the hangout was "OTHER TIMES, OTHER WORLDS in YA LIT" and I was joined by some amazing other authors!

Here's the DL on it:

Other Times, Other Worlds in YA Lit Google+ Hangout On Air

Young adult authors Cynthia Leitich Smith (FERAL NIGHTS), P. J. Hoover (SOLSTICE), Janet Fox (SIRENS), Joy Preble (THE SWEET DEAD LIFE), and Candlewick Press editor and fellow YA author Deb Noyes (PLAGUE IN THE MIRROR) on a Google+ Hangout On Air. The authors partake in a dynamic discussion, exploring the challenges and joys of world-building, creating romantic elements, writing gender roles, and the parallel between fantasy and historical writing.

Deb Noyes: http://www.deborahnoyes.com
Cynthia Leitich Smith: http://www.cynthialeitichsmith.com
P.J. Hoover: http://www.pjhoover.com
Janet Fox: http://www.janetsfox.com
Joy Preble: http://www.joypreble.com

And now for your viewing pleasure, here it is!

In 2006, I had the privilege of interviewing Jerry Robinson, one of the earliest ghost artists on Batman and a true class act, in my research for Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman.

I ended speaking with him multiple more times, including once at his New York City apartment, which was chockablock with priceless Golden Age art and other mementos.

Most if not all of the numerous interviews I conducted for the book contain gems that did not make it into the book, so here is my chance to share them nonetheless. This one (which I transcribed from a recording) is edited slightly. Upon rereading it, I am surprised how much info it contains that I had not—and still have not—read elsewhere.

How did you meet Bill Finger?

I met Bill Finger I think at the first time at Bob’s apartment when I first joined the team. He introduced me to Bill when I joined Batman. It was only a couple of months after it started.

Did you get a different impression from him than you did from Bob?

They were definitely different personalities.

How would you describe Bill’s personality?

Bill seemed very soft, kind. Not outgoing. Reserved but very easy to get to know. He wasn’t standoffish…

Did you become friends?

We became fast friends. He actually became my I say cultural mentor. … Remember, I was a 17-year-old kid. Just graduated high school. I knew nothing of New York. I was still going to Columbia, studying journalism, and commuting from my little room in the Bronx. Bill introduced me to everything in New York. Museums, galleries, movies. I soaked everything up like a sponge. I was fortunate that we hit it off. Personally, I think we each appreciated each other’s contributions.

Do you remember what you talked about besides the work?

Everything. Bill was widely read. He also was interested in everything, as I was, in learning everything. And he had very good taste. I don’t know how he was introduced to all these things himself, but he certainly knew them. [unintelligible] …the Metropolitan, MOMA, and foreign films, and other talks and things around town. The galleries.

Did you ever meet his friends that were not in the industry?

That’s a good question. I don’t remember. I knew his wife very well.

Is that Portia?

[unintelligible but affirmative] When he was first courting Portia, I think she came from Rochester was it? Or Albany? You probably know… [unintelligible] Before I met her, he was going with her … I remember several occasions where we’d be going out for lunch or dinner and he’d stop and say “I’ve gotta call Portia.” He’d get in the phone booth. At that time, they had the Superman-type phone booths. I’d stand and wait for him. He had endless conversations with Portia on the phone.

Was she interested in his work?

Yes. She knew what he was doing intimately. They were very close. She was a very intelligent gal. Once she came to New York they were married. They were both friends. I would go out to dinner with them, just the three of us.

Was she more dominant or more outgoing than he was?

I guess maybe in those terms, somewhat. She wasn’t [unintelligible]. She was very articulate and expressive.

What did she think of his work schedule? He was working late into the night.

We all did. (laughs)

So she just accepted it.

Yeah, I’d say so. [goes on in mumble about how some writers were night owls, some morning people]

Was Bill allowed to tell people that he was writing Batman?

They couldn’t stop him from talking to anybody. I think any of us knew…well, of course I knew. His name wasn’t on the feature, obviously.

If his name wasn’t on the feature and he said he wrote it, would people be suspicious?

I don’t think so. I don’t think anybody would just make that up. [unintelligible] They knew every strip wasn’t done just by the author, or the artist signed his name in many cases.

What was Bill proud of?

I think he was proud of his work. He was a very careful craftsman. He was proud of his creation. All of us were. I think that was part of the tragedy of Bill, as it was Siegel and Shuster, that they weren’t credited with their genius.

Do you think that shows a lack of business savvy on Bill’s part or did he just accept that that’s how things were?

Well, he was naïve, as most of us were. If we knew then what we know now, it’d be a different story. I might be head of Warner Bros. We were dealing with very wise publishers who had dealt with artists and contracts before. Some of these cases [were] the first thing they ever sold. It was the beginning of the industry.

Did Bill ever originate a character without an artist?

He wrote many television scripts, and I think even a couple of movie scripts.

That was later in his career, right?

Yes. He worked for a lot of publishers so I’m sure he had a hand in creating a lot of the characters.

[I mention Green Lantern, Wildcat, and he says he doesn’t know others besides those I mentioned]

Do you know if Bill read any fan mail?

I don’t think we were privy to it. I don’t they generally showed us the fan mail. We knew it was popular in sales and so forth, but that wasn’t gotten into until later. [mentions Stan Lee developing rapport with readers]

Would you describe Bill as one of the guys? If you ever went out with a group, was he chummy and social and making jokes?

The apartment I shared with Mort Meskin and, before he left to the army, Bernie Klein, it was kind of the hangout for [contributors who were near?] DC. Bill would be a frequent visitor. I think I have a, one of the books you have, you know, where people who visit draw a cartoon or…

Like a guest book?

Yeah. And there were usually crazy drawings or serious or whatever. And the old girlfriends would write in it.

You have it still?

I have [something, yeah?].

So Bill’s writing is in it?

I’m pretty sure he’s there saying, uh…we [sounds like “found” but might be “had”] a dart board on the wall. I remember that was a pastime for everybody. We challenged…in darts. I think Bill wrote something that was like “Damn it, Jerry, beat me again.”

[NOTE: Bill’s page is reproduced in Bill the Boy Wonder…and the original suffered a sad fate.]

Would you shoot around Batman ideas while you were playing darts?

We would always be…you know, if [we weren’t on another topic?], we would do it in social [situations with?] other artists around, unless we were talking about comics. But Bill and I, and sometimes we were with Bob, we would always be kicking around ideas. We used to live, breathe, eat, and sleep Batman. [Wild age to be in?]

Part 2.

Superman has had many dads, the most recent of which are these two (from Entertainment Weekly):

There are three main file types currently associated with eBooks:

• EPUB (.epub) – Short for “electronic publication,” this is the most popular open standard format for eBooks that allows DRM (digital rights management). It is also the format used with all the major retailers EXCEPT Amazon/Kindle. With EPUB, reflowable content ensures that text is displayed in the optimal manner for each eReader or smartphone device.

• Mobipocket (.mobi) – An eBook format that allows users to add a blank page at any point in the text for notes, bookmarks, corrections, and drawings.

• Kindle (.azw) – Amazon’s proprietary format is based on mobipocket, but it comes with its own DRM protections.

1) Once your book has been converted to ePub format, it’s too late to fix a typo! So proof your files for spelling, grammar, and syntax. Remember you are now your own editor! It is up to you to make sure the document you convert to an eBook is meticulously proofread. Even if you pay a company to do the converting for you, you still have to have it perfectly edited, so you might want to consider paying someone to edit your book prior to conversion.

2) Don’t use tabs or the space bar to format paragraphs and individual lines. While it may look the way you want it in a Word or text file, tabs and spaces wreak havoc when converted to eBook format. Use the “Format/Paragraph” menu or alignment buttons in the toolbar of your text-editing program if you want indents.

3) Use standard fonts such as Times New Roman or Courier New. Not all fonts are supported by the eBook format and eReaders. The standard text size is 12 point size font for body text and 14-18 point for chapter titles. Another reason to use Times New Roman: Any special symbols may not convert properly to ePub when using other fonts.

4) The publisher’s name and address, date of publication, copyright info, ISBN number, and other credits should be included on the first two pages of the document.

5) Don’t resize your images in Word or a text editor. All images must be in .png, .jpg, or .tif format, 72 dpi, and in RGB color mode. Do all image resizing outside of the document with image editing software, then reinsert them in your document.

6) If you pay a company to format your manuscript to an ebook, check to make sure of their specs. In general, you will need to resize large images to 300 pixels high if you would like them to display in-line with text. Cover and full-page images should 800-1,000 pixels high by 550-700 pixels wide. Logos or simple images should be 75-100 pixels high.

7) All images (except full-page images) should be set in-line with text. Do not wrap text around images.

8) Tables, sidebars, and inserts will not display properly in ePub format, so extract this type of content and list as ordinary text. Of course, you can always included them as images.

9) Do not include any elements that refer to page numbers other than your formatted Table of Contents. Pages in your document will not coincide with the “pages” on any given eReader.

Talk tomorrow,

Kathy

I want to step back for a second and clarify my own personal definitions of plot versus structure. As mentioned in my previous post on plot definitions there are many views of what plot it! Additionally, I fear that as I walked us through arch plot and classic design last week, I may have reinforced the misconceptions that plot and structure are same thing.

Plot and structure are not the same thing!

I did a previous series on plot (To Plot or Not to Plot) where I explored the differences between narrative, story, plot, and structure. I’ve since re-evaluated some of the things I said in those posts and the following are my current definitions:

PLOT: Plot is often defined as a “sequence of actions” (Fletcher) or “the actions of the characters” (Bechard). However, plot is also the connective tissue that links events or actions with meaning. It’s not just what happens, but the causal connections of why it happens. Janet Burroway defines plot as a “series of events deliberately arranged so as to reveal their dramatic, thematic, and emotional significance … Plot’s concern is ‘what, how, and why,’ with scenes ordered to highlight cause-and-effect.”

In simple terms, plot is a series of actions with a cause and effect relationship. In my explanation of arch plot, the hero’s journey is the plot.

Whereas…

STRUCTURE: Structure is the triangle or mountain shape in the diagram I used. Structure has two parts. The first is arrangement. For example, you tell scene one, then scene two, then scene three. Or you tell scene 3, then scene 1, then scene 27, etc. This is about order and organization. The second part is about patterns, rhythm, and energy. It’s about the movement and feeling your particular arrangement creates. The triangle (often called the Aristotelian story shape) is a visual metaphor for the escalating energy that is meant to come as a result of a classic design arrangement.

With structure we are looking at the arrangement and rhythm of the whole. Author, Susan Fletcher defines structure as “the organization, or overall design, or form of a particular literary work … [It is the] larger rhythm of the story.” Additionally, Chea says that “in examining story structure, we look for patterns, for the shape that the story as a whole possesses. Plot directs us to the story in motion, structure to the story at rest.”

In the coming posts, I’m going to list alternative plots and alternative structures. I wanted to clarify the difference between these terms so you would better understand how I’ve organized these lists. One is by the nature of the action (plot) while the other is about the organization and rhythm of the action (structure).

Works Cited:

Bechard, Margaret. “How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Plot.” Faculty Lecture. Vermont College of Fine Arts, Montpelier, VT. Jan 2008.

Burroway, Janet. Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narative Craft. 8th Edition. New York: Longman, 2011.

Chea, Stephenson. “What’s the Difference Between Plot and Structure.” Associated Content.  16 Feb. 2010. Web. 7 May 2011.

Fletcher, Susan. “Structure as Genesis.” Faculty Lecture. Vermont College of Fine Arts, Montpelier, VT. July 2012.

I want to step back for a second and clarify my own personal definitions of plot versus structure. As mentioned in my previous post on plot definitions there are many views of what plot it! Additionally, I fear that as I walked us through arch plot and classic design last week, I may have reinforced the misconceptions that plot and structure are same thing.

Plot and structure are not the same thing!

I did a previous series on plot (To Plot or Not to Plot) where I explored the differences between narrative, story, plot, and structure. I’ve since re-evaluated some of the things I said in those posts and the following are my current definitions:

PLOT: Plot is often defined as a “sequence of actions” (Fletcher) or “the actions of the characters” (Bechard). However, plot is also the connective tissue that links events or actions with meaning. It’s not just what happens, but the causal connections of why it happens. Janet Burroway defines plot as a “series of events deliberately arranged so as to reveal their dramatic, thematic, and emotional significance … Plot’s concern is ‘what, how, and why,’ with scenes ordered to highlight cause-and-effect.”

In simple terms, plot is a series of actions with a cause and effect relationship. In my explanation of arch plot, the hero’s journey is the plot.

Whereas…

STRUCTURE: Structure is the triangle or mountain shape in the diagram I used. Structure has two parts. The first is arrangement. For example, you tell scene one, then scene two, then scene three. Or you tell scene 3, then scene 1, then scene 27, etc. This is about order and organization. The second part is about patterns, rhythm, and energy. It’s about the movement and feeling your particular arrangement creates. The triangle (often called the Aristotelian story shape) is a visual metaphor for the escalating energy that is meant to come as a result of a classic design arrangement.

With structure we are looking at the arrangement and rhythm of the whole. Author, Susan Fletcher defines structure as “the organization, or overall design, or form of a particular literary work … [It is the] larger rhythm of the story.” Additionally, Chea says that “in examining story structure, we look for patterns, for the shape that the story as a whole possesses. Plot directs us to the story in motion, structure to the story at rest.”

In the coming posts, I’m going to list alternative plots and alternative structures. I wanted to clarify the difference between these terms so you would better understand how I’ve organized these lists. One is by the nature of the action (plot) while the other is about the organization and rhythm of the action (structure).

Works Cited:

Bechard, Margaret. “How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Plot.” Faculty Lecture. Vermont College of Fine Arts, Montpelier, VT. Jan 2008.

Burroway, Janet. Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narative Craft. 8th Edition. New York: Longman, 2011.

Chea, Stephenson. “What’s the Difference Between Plot and Structure.” Associated Content.  16 Feb. 2010. Web. 7 May 2011.

Fletcher, Susan. “Structure as Genesis.” Faculty Lecture. Vermont College of Fine Arts, Montpelier, VT. July 2012.

A little over a year ago GIANTS BEWARE came out.  Around the same time, my papi was getting very sick with cancer and would eventually pass away in October.

My papi was old school, and was never very quick with the compliment.

I remember years ago, over dinner, we were talking about my career and he said, “Well, I guess leaving law school was not as big a mistake as I thought you’d made.”   That was his way of offering a compliment, and of course I took it.

Last year, I flew into Columbus to see him.  Coincidentally, Rafael was doing an event at

Cover to Cover with our colorist and friend, John Novak.  I was reluctant to go.  At that point, my dad’s cancer was affecting his coordination and it was difficult to get him in and out of the car, and he tired quickly.  Rafael encouraged me to join him and when I asked my dad if he wanted to go he just said, “It sounds interesting.”

@ Cover to Cover Event, Columbus Ohio

It took some work getting him there, but we went and the event was amazing.  It was packed.  Old friends from Columbus were there, college professors, family friends.  My dad was in the front row watching with his usual inscrutable expression.  It was the first time my dad had been at an event for one of my creative endeavors.  He got to see kids and adults who had read our book, enjoyed it, and were happy to have us sign their books.  He got to see the joy our book was bringing people.

Afterwards, I asked him what he thought of the event.  “It was interesting,”  he said.  I went fishing for a compliment,  “But what did you think of all those people there, for our book?  Neat, huh?”  He responded.  “Yes, it was interesting.”   I pushed him even further,  “But papi, isn’t it pretty cool to see a book your son wrote, out in the world and people seem to like it?”  He thought about it for a moment and said, “It was VERY interesting.”  For him, that was high praise, and I took it.

(Thanks to Darlene Rosado and Chip Kocel for the photos)

LATEST NEWS

The North Carolina Press Foundation is offering four of Artie’s serial stories to Newspapers in Education (NIE) newspapers across the United States. This year’s theme is Dig into Reading. In addition to the NIE, the foundation will also be offering Artie’s work to libraries and other newspapers throughout the United States. To read the stories please click on the NC Press Foundation link listed above.

Two of Artie’s children’s books will be featured on Ameba TV beginning this summer. Based in Canada, Ameba TV is presently streamed worldwide in million of homes.

Ameba TV’s rich, diverse content library delivers thousands of hours of educational, preschool, musical, and multilingual programming to children ages 2 to 12. The popular children’s streaming TV service features award-winning shows, like WordWorld, The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That, BusyTown Mysteries, and Ruby Skye PI.

More to come!

View from a Zoo – Bored with her life, a housecat seeks out adventure in this new fully illustrated picture book coming in the summer of 2013. Written by Artie, the book is being illustrated by the incredibly talented Indian artist Sunayana Nair Kanjilal. More to come as the book’s release date gets closer….

Use of any of the content on this website without permission is prohibited by federal law

Happy Monday! Here's my mishmash of thoughts:

1. Father's Day  I hope everyone had a great Father's Day! I got to spend all of Saturday with my dad and then Sunday with my father-in-law.
2. Advantage Heartbreak is only $0.99!  Swoon Romance put a bunch of their titles on sale through July 31st and the second novella in my Game. Set. Match. Heartbreak series is one of them. I hope you'll download it during this offer. Find it here.
3. Where Moonbeams Bounce  Katie Clark, one of my CPs, has a YA short story ebook out for $0.99  (free for Amazon Prime). Check it out here.
4. YA Crush Tourney  Torin St. James from Ednah Walter's Runes is in the YA Crush Tourney. I love Torin, so make sure you vote for him. 
5. Immortals by Ednah Walters Cover Reveal Here are the print and ebook covers!

Raine finally knows that her gorgeous neighbor, Torin St. James, is a legend straight out of Norse mythology but that doesn't stop her from falling hard for him. Torin is crazy about Raine too, breaking the one rule he lives by: Never fall for a mortal. The problem is he no longer remembers her or that she saved him by making a deal with Norns—Norse destiny deities—the same Norns who have now erased his memories of their past together to punish her.

So Raine comes up with a plan...

She will make Torin forget his one rule a second time and fall in love with her all over again. But before Raine can put her plan into action, the Norns return. This time, they demand she protects Eirik Seville, her best friend since childhood, from an evil so dark even the Norns are scared.

But you know what they say about well-laid plans.

Caught between protecting Eirik and convincing the stubborn, cocky Torin St. James that the two of them are meant to be together, Raine's life slowly unravels. Friendships are tested. Enemies become allies. Desperate, Raine makes choices that could not only tear her and Torin further apart, but lead to the destruction of everything and everyone she loves.

Release Date:

August 5th 2013 by Firetrail Publishing

Voiceover for Children's Apps Have you ever wanted to be a voiceover? Maybe you could be if you join a site that could help you access jobs in this field. Voice123 is a a website that provides voiceover jobs for anyone interested in being a voice for an 'App' or a children's story on-line. I have been a member since 2006. They give you a webpage where you can showcase your talents. Check out their website: http://voice123.com/ Here is a demo of my voice.
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