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I have long followed and respected the work of author Cynthia DeFelice, who over the past 25 years has put together an expansive and impressive body of work. No bells, no whistles, no fancy pyrotechnics. Just one well-crafted book after another. There’s not an ounce of phony in Cynthia; she’s the genuine article, the real magilla. Last November, I was pleased to run into Cynthia at the Rochester Children’s Book Festival. Pressed for time, we chatted easily about this and that, then parted ways. But I wanted more. Thus, this conversation . . . I’m sure you’ll like Cynthia almost as much as her dog does.

Greetings, Cynthia. Thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule for this conversation. I feel like we have so much to talk about. We first met sometime in the early 90s, back when Frank Hodge, a bookseller in Albany, was putting on his elaborate, gushing children’s book conferences.

It’s nice to be in touch with you again. I’ll always remember those conferences​ with Frank Hodge.  He made me feel validated as a fledgling writer.  He left me a voice mail telling me how much he loved the book Weasel.  I played it over and over and over!   In 1992, the Hodge-Podge Society gave the first ever Hodge-Podge Award to Weasel.  It meant the world to me.  Those were great times for authors, teachers, kids, and for literature.

Frank forced me to read your book — and I loved it. So I’ll always be grateful to Frank for that; it’s important to have those people in your world, the sharers, the ones who press books into your hands and say, “You must read this!”

Well, good for Frank! He is definitely one of those people you’re talking about. His enthusiasm is infectious.

We’ve seen many changes over the past 25 years. For example, a year or two ago I  participated in a New York State reading conference in Albany for educators. The building was abuzz with programs about “Common Core” strategies & applications & assessments & implementation techniques and ZZZZZzzzzz. (Sorry, dozed off for a minute!) Anyway, educators were under tremendous pressure to roll this thing out — even when many sensed disaster. Meanwhile, almost out of habit, organizers invited authors to attend, but they placed us in a darkened corridor in the back. Not next to the Dumpster, but close. At one point I was with Susan Beth Pfeffer, who writes these incredible books, and nobody was paying attention to her. This great writer was sitting there virtually ignored.

To your point about finding fabulous authors being ignored at conferences, I hear you. It can be a very humbling experience. I find that teachers aren’t nearly as knowledgeable about books and authors as they were 10-25 years ago, and not as interested. They aren’t encouraged in that direction, and they don’t feel they have the time for what is considered to be non-essential to the goal of making sure their kids pass the tests. Thankfully, there are exceptions! You and I both still hear from kids and teachers for whom books are vital, important, and exhilarating.

But, yes, I agree with you completely that literature is being shoved to the side. Teachers tell me they have to sneak in reading aloud when no one is watching or listening.

When I was invited to speak at a dinner, along with Adam Gidwitz and the great Joe Bruchac, I felt compelled to put in a good word for  . . . story. You know, remind everybody that books matter. In today’s misguided rush for “informational units of text,” I worry that test-driven education is pushing literature to the side. The powers that be can’t easily measure the value of a book — it’s impossible to reduce to bubble tests — so their solution is to ignore fiction completely. Sorry for the rant, but I’m so frustrated with the direction of education today.

Well, it’s hard not to rant. It’s disconcerting to think how we’ve swung so far from those heady days of “Whole Language” to today’s “Common Core” curriculum — about as far apart as two approaches can be. I think the best approach lies somewhere in the vast middle ground between the two, and teachers need to be trusted to use methods as varied as the kids they work with every day.

On a recent school visit in Connecticut, I met a second-year librarian — excuse me, media specialist — who was instructed by her supervisor to never read aloud to the students. It wasn’t perceived as a worthwhile use of her time.

Well, that is sad and just plain ridiculous. I was a school librarian for 8 ½ years. I felt the most important part of my job was reading aloud to kids

I didn’t realize you were a librarian. 

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Yes, I began as a school librarian. But, really, my life as a writer began when I was a child listening to my mother read aloud.  And every crazy job I had before I became a librarian (and there were a lot) helped to form and inform me as a writer.  This is true of us all.  I had an actual epiphany one day while I was a librarian. I looked up from a book I was reading aloud and saw the faces of a class of kids who were riveted to every word… I saw their wide eyes, their mouths hanging open, their bodies taut and poised with anticipation – I was seeing full body participation in the story that was unfolding.  I thought: I want to be the person who makes kids look and feel like THAT.

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And that’s exactly who you became. Which is incredible. This can be a tough and discouraging business; I truly hope you realize how much you’ve accomplished.

Thanks, and back at you on that. I think we have to constantly remind ourselves that what we do is important. I think we’ve all had the experience of being scorned because we write for children. The common perception is that we write about fuzzy bunnies who learn to share and to be happy with who they are.

I loved your recent blog post about the importance of books that disturb us. I’m still amazed when I hear from a teacher or parent –- and occasionally even a young reader –- saying they didn’t like a book or a scene from a book because of something upsetting that happened in it. Conflict is the essence of fiction! No conflict, no story (or, worse, a boring, useless one). I love my characters, and I hate to make them go through some of the experiences they have, but it’s got to be done! Did I want Stewpot to die in Nowhere to Call Home? Did I want Weasel to have cut out Ezra’s tongue and killed his wife and unborn baby? Did I want Erik to have to give up the dog Quill at the end of Wild Life? These things hurt, and yet we see our characters emerge from the dark forests we give them to walk through, coming out stronger and wiser. We all need to hear about such experiences, over and over again, in order to have hope in the face of our own trials.

I admire all aspects of your writing, but in particular your sense of pace; your stories click along briskly. They don’t feel rushed, there’s real depth, but there’s always a strong forward push to the narrative. How important is that to you?

I love beautiful writing, I love imagery and metaphor, and evocative language. But all that must be in service to story, or I am impatient with it.  I don’t like show-offy writing.

The ego getting in the way.

Yes. Even the best writers need an editor to keep that ego in check! I seek clarity — what good is writing that obscures and obfuscates? The purpose is to communicate, to say what you mean. That goes for all kinds of writing, not just writing for kids. Kids want to get to the point. So do I.

Can you name any books or authors that were important to your development as a writer? Or is that an impossible question to answer?

 Impossible. Because there are too many, and if I made a list I would inevitably leave out a person or book I adore. Safer to say that every book I’ve read -– the good, the bad, and the ugly –- all are in there somewhere, having an effect on my own writing.

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You are what you eat. Also, your love of nature — the great outdoors! — infuses everything you write.

Nature and the great outdoors, yes.  My love of these things will always be a big part of my writing.  I find that after a lifetime of experience and reading and exploring, I know a lot about the natural world, and it’s fun to include that knowledge in my writing. Sometimes I worry that kids are being cut off from the real world.  But I do know lots of kids who love animals and trees and flowers and bugs, love to hunt and fish, to mess around in ponds and streams, build forts,  paddle canoes, collect fossils — you name it. They give me hope for the future.

Where do you live?

On and sometimes in (during the floods of 1972 and 1993) Seneca Lake in beautiful upstate New York.

Is that where you’re from?

Nope. I grew up in the suburbs of northeast Philly. I came up here to go to college and never left.

Your books often feature boy characters. Why do you think that’s so?

You’re right: more than half of my main characters are boys.  I’m not sure why.  And I don’t know why I feel so perfectly comfortable writing in the voice of a 10-11-12 year old boy.  Maybe because my brothers and I were close and we did a lot together?  Maybe because my husband still has a lot of boyish enthusiasm?  At any rate, I am crazy about pre-adolescent boys, their goofiness and earnestness and heedlessness.  My new book (coming out in May) is called Fort.  It features two boys, Wyatt and Augie (age 11) who build a fort together during summer vacation.  I had so much fun writing it.  (I have to admit, I love when I crack myself up, and these guys just make me laugh.)

While writing, are you conscious about the gender gap in reading? This truism that “boys don’t read.”

I am. Sometimes I am purposely writing for that reluctant reader, who is so often a boy. I love nothing so much as hearing that one of my books was THE ONE that turned a kid around, that made him a reader.

I just read Signal, so that book is on my mind today. I had to smile  when Owen gets into the woods and his phone doesn’t work. No wi-fi. It’s funny to me because in my “Scary Tales” series I always have to do the same thing. If we want to instill an element of danger, there has to be a sense of isolation that doesn’t seem possible in today’s hyper-connected world. “What? Zombie hordes coming over the rise? I’ll call Mom to pick us up in her SUV!” So we always need to get the  parents out of the way and somehow disable the wi-fi. You didn’t have that problem back when you wrote Weasel.

Thanks for reading Signal.  And, yeah, it’s really annoying that in order to be plausible in this day and age, you have to have a reason why your character isn’t on the phone with Mommy every time something goes wrong.  (Another good reason to write historical fiction!)  In Fort, Augie lives with his grandmother and doesn’t have money for a cell phone, and Wyatt’s with his father for the summer. His parents are divorced, and (unlike Mom) Dad doesn’t believe in kids being constantly connected to an electronic nanny.  So — halleluiah!  Wyatt and Augie are free to do all the fun, dumb, and glorious things they feel like doing!

My friends and I built a fort in the woods when we were in high school. Good times, great memories, just hanging out unfettered and free. I included a fort in my book, Along Came Spider. For Trey and Spider, the book’s main characters, the fort represented a refuge. It was also a haven for their friendship away from the social pressures and cliques of school. A place in nature where they could be themselves. So, yes, I love that you wrote a book titled Fort. I’ll add it to my list! (You are becoming an expensive friend.)

Well, now that I’ve discovered your books, I can say the same. Money well spent, I’d say.

Where did the idea for Signal originate?

The inspiration for Signal came one morning as I was running on a trail through the woods with Josie, my dog at the time.  She proudly brought me a white napkin with red stuff smeared on it.  I thought, Whoa, is that blood?  No, whew. Ketchup.  But what if it had been blood?  And what if a kid was running with his dog and she brought him pieces of cloth with blood stains?  Eww.  That would be creepy!  And scary, and exciting, and mysterious — and I started writing Signal.

You’ve always been extremely well-reviewed. Readers love your books.  And yet in this day of series and website-supported titles, where everything seems to be high-concept, it feels like the stand-alone middle grade novel is an endangered species.

I have been lucky with reviews.  But, sadly, I think traditional review sources are becoming increasingly irrelevant, as blogs and websites and personal media platforms take over. That’s not good news for me because I am simply not interested in self-promotion.  Can’t do it.  Don’t want to do it.  I just want to write the best books I can and let them speak for themselves.  I know it’s old-school, but there it is.  You said that a stand-alone middle grade novel is becoming an endangered species amid all the series and “high concept” books out there, and I think you’re right.  But when that stand-alone book somehow finds its niche audience, when kids and teachers somehow discover it and embrace it as theirs . . . , well, it’s a beautiful damn thing, and it’s enough to keep me writing, for now.

For now?!

Well, my husband is 9 years older than I am and recently retired, and there are a lot of things we still need to do!

Like what?

We have a farm property we are improving by digging a pond, and by planting trees and foliage to benefit wildlife. We stocked it with fish, and enjoy watching it attract turtles, frogs, toads, dragonflies, birds and animals of all sorts. So we like to spend a lot of time there, camping out. We love to travel, and are headed next on a self-driving tour of Iceland. We also have four terrific grandchildren we like to spend time with. I could go on and on with the bucket list…

By the way, I agree about the blogs. I think we are seeing a lot more opinion — more reaction — but less deep critical thought. It’s fine and useful for a neighbor to tell you they hated or loved a movie, but it’s not the same as a professional film critic providing an informed, and hopefully insightful, critique. Yet somehow today it’s all conflated. 

Well, there is a similar phenomenon with self-published books. I’m not a total snob about it, and there are plenty of good books that didn’t go through the process of being accepted by and edited by a professional at an established publishing house. But I’ll repeat that everyone needs an editor. And I’m often amazed at the brazenness of people spouting off in various social media platforms, often without being fully grounded in the subject they are pontificating about. But, hey, maybe I’m just getting to be an old fart.

Yeah, I don’t Tweet either. We’re being left in the dust! My observation is that the “kidlitosphere” is comprised 90% of women. Of course, many of those bloggers are passionate, smart, generous women who genuinely want to see boys reading. But I always think of a favorite line written by one of my heroes, Charlotte Zolotow, where a boy imagines his father telling his mother, “You never were a boy. You don’t know.”

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I don’t think it’s an ideal thing that the blogging world — which has become such an important source of information about books — is overwhelmingly female. Of course, the situation is not at all their fault. 

That’s why it’s so great that there are writers out there like you, Bruce Coville, Tedd Arnold, Jon Scieska, Neil Gaiman, Jack Gantos –- who not only write books boys like, but are out there in schools demonstrating that REAL MEN read and write! I don’t know what we can do about the gender gap other than to be aware of it and to write the best books we can, books that both boys and girls will devour.

Tell me about Wild Life. Once again, you are mining the world of adventure — a boy, a dog, and a gun.

I never got as much mail from kids, teachers, grandparents and other caregivers as I did after that book came out. In our hyper-politically correct world, GUNS = EVIL. You can’t talk about them in school. So where does that leave a kid who spends his or her weekend hunting, who studies nature in order to be part of it, who hunts respectfully, with care, who is enmeshed in family history and tradition, who through hunting feels part of the full complexity of life?

I had to keep silencing the censors in my head telling me I couldn’t put a gun in an 11 year old kid’s hands, unless it was a matter of survival in a book set back in “the olden days.”

I was amazed and immensely gratified to learn that a lot of kids found themselves and their interests represented in Erik’s story. I didn’t write it with an agenda in mind. I simply wrote it based on the experiences I’ve had when my husband and I take our bird dog on her yearly Dream Vacation to North Dakota to hunt pheasants.

Ha! I love that your dog has a Dream Vacation.

I get so much joy from watching her do what she was born and bred to do. I cherish our days out on those wide open prairies, and have learned to see the subtle and varied beauty of the landscape. I was just hoping to write a rip-roaring good story that incorporated all that wonderful stuff. Our hunting experiences have nothing whatsoever to do with “gun violence” of the sort you hear about on TV. It’s been interesting to hear from kids who really get that.

Yeah, I enjoy meeting those kids, often out in the western end of New York State. One of my readers from the North Country sent me this photo. Isn’t she great?

Oh, man, I love that! We can’t forget those kids are out there.

What’s next, Cynthia? Any new books on the horizon?

Possibly, just possibly, a sequel to Fort. But that’s all I will say, even if you use enhanced interrogation techniques.

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We do not waterboard here at Jamespreller dot com, and I resent the implication! Those are merely bath toys that happen to be . . . nevermind!

According to the rules of the interwebs, I see that we’ve gone way beyond the approved length of standard posts. Likely there’s no one left reading. It’s just us. So I’ll end here with a big thank you, Cynthia, for putting up with me. I’ve really enjoyed this conversation. I hope I’ll see you again in Rochester at the 19th Annual Children’s Book Festival. 

Children’s books illustrator Margaret Bloy Graham has died. She was 94 years old.

Graham became well-known for collaborating with Gene Zion, a writer and her husband, on the Harry the Dirty Dog picture book series. She went on to work on projects with other writers and author her own books. Altogether, she earned two Caldecott Honors for All Falling Down and The Storm Book.

Here’s more from School Library Journal: “Though Harry remains Graham’s most well-known collaboration, it was far from her only one. Her illustrations for legendary children’s book author Charlotte Zolotow’s The Storm Book (Harper, 1951), a gentle look at a child’s first thunderstorm, won her a Caldecott Honor. A versatile artist, she also provided the illustrations for renowned poet Jack Prelutsky’s humor collection Pack Rat’s Day (Macmillan, 1974), while in the 1980s, she collaborated with longtime friend and Little Bear author Else Holmelund Minarik on What If? (1987) and It’s Spring (1989, both Greenwillow).”

I had just the loveliest dinner the other night with some high-falutin’ folks in the children’s literary biz.  Fine conversation and finer memories were tossed all about.  Yet I credit the devil on my right shoulder for suggesting to me the relative wisdom of my bringing up a long-standing belief that had been percolating in the back of my brain.  I believe I must have said something along the lines of this.

Betsy:  You know what would be great?  If Harper Collins had William’s Doll by Charlotte Zolotow re-illustrated.

To my companions’ credit they did not subsequently pelt me with dinner rolls, though there were a palpable sense of shock in the air.  At long last one turned to me and asked with great calm and presence of mind, “Has there ever been a successful re-illustration of a classic picture book?”

Well.  Um.  That is to say . . . . er.

Stumped!  I haven’t been that stumped since Peter Glassman asked me which Newbery Award winner illustrated a Newbery Award winning book by another author (answer at the end of this post).  I floundered about, then mentioned that I had never quite taken to the W.W. Denslow illustrations for The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (another horror for some of you, I am sure, for another day).  “Oh no,”  she replied.  “Not a work of fiction.  A picture book.”

For a good ten minutes I sat there as the conversation drifted to other topics.  Eventually I was able to come up with at least one book (my crazed cry of “Never Tease a Weasel!!!” may have caused serious damage to the soup course) before admitting that when it comes to well-known classics, no.  I’ve never seen a successful re-illustration.

Which is not to say it couldn’t happen!  And if it absolutely 100% did have to happen (more on that presently) then it should happen to Charlotte Zolotow’s best known book.  William’s Doll. Copyright 1972.

Some background.

How many of you would count yourselves as members of the Free to Be You and Me generation?  If so, you may remember this old video from back in the day.  I sure as heck do.

It was based on Zolotow’s picture book and I distinctly remember seeing this as a kid and finding it extraordinarily interesting.  This may have had something to do with the fact that the original book sported a very different look.

Bowl haircut?  Check.  Neckerchief?  Check.  Bellbottoms?  Check.  Saddle shoes?  Check and check.  Yes, it seems that even when kids might have sported this look, I was more inclined to be interested in the kid wearing the sneakers, jeans and baseball cap in the Marlo Thomas production than the one featured in an honest-to-gosh book.

Now the illustrations for William’s Doll were done by the great William Pene du Bois, a man probably remembered best today for his Newbery Award winner Twenty-One Balloons (a wonderful video of THAT particular title can be seen here).  No one is going to contest that the man was a master artist.  And if this book were some timeless relic of the past I would have no trouble with the art. But here’s the thing: The book is not a relic.  It is timely.  So timely, in fact, that if you happen to scan through the comments on the above YouTube video (do so at your own risk here) you will note the overwhelming need for this book that continues even today.

Another factor?  We haven’t even entered into 2013 officially and yet I think I’ve read about 14 different bully-related books.  And not one, NOT ONE of those books has the sheer guts of this title.  If you don’t know the story, here’s the long and short: William is a boy who wants a doll.  His older brother and dad pretty much tease him mercilessly about this or try to get him into manly sports and train related things.  Then his grandma goes and gets him one and then explains to dear old dad that the doll has a practical application. After all, someday William will be a dad of his own and he’ll need to know how to care for a baby.  Now admittedly I always felt like this explanation (and the cover image of William doing an aforementioned manly sport) felt a bit like overcompensation.  I mean, why can’t a boy just want a doll because it’s a doll?  Does he absolutely have to have a reason?  But hey, you go with what you’ve got.  And what you’ve got is a book that even today is regularly assigned to kids to read by their schools and yet is losing a lot of its impact because of the art.

You see, here is William:

And he doesn’t look like any kid out there today.  Here is his older brother:

Because if you think old William here looks a little dated, those preppy tennis whites are outta sight. Dude totally doesn’t have a leg to stand on here.

So my thinking is that if someone were to re-illustrate the book today with images of kids as they look today, yes it may date in time but until it does the book may be able to get back some of its impact.  Then the ultimate book about a kid bullied for being who he is could be re-discovered by schools and parents all over this great green world.

You might say to me, “Well, sure.  So let’s say we re-illustrate this book.  What next?  Do you want to redo A Snowy Day?  How about finding someone besides Sendak to redo Where the Wild Things Are?  How about Goodnight bloody Moon?!?”  The difference as I see it is that I don’t feel the images in this particular book are, to be frank, William Pene du Bois at his best.  They’re fine. They have their defenders.  But no one has ever assigned this book because the art was so nice.  It’s a book with a message that doesn’t feel didactic (to me anyway) and that should have been given to someone like Mercer Mayer.  Someone who could have given it a shot in the arm.  It’s not like I’m talking about redoing something like Oliver Button Is a Sissy.  I mean THAT is a book that feels fresh every time you read it.  Tomie de Paola is visually incapable of aging.

A deeper issue at work here is the question of use.  I see this as a book that could speak directly to children today if they felt like it was the story of themselves or a fellow classmate.  But that is how I see the book being used.  I’m not talking about how the book can currently be enjoyed on its own merits.  Must every picture book out there with even a tangential connection to bullying now be used as a tool in some way?  Nope.  But the fact of the matter is that this book is already being used, being used all the time, and I want its impact to hit home.  What if you changed William’s race too?  What if you had him living in an apartment or in the country?  The possibilities are endless.  If I were teaching a class on picture book illustration you can bet I’d assign this book as some kind of an assignment.

For all that, it has stayed in print all these years.  Now imagine it came out for the first time today.  In an era where princess stuff is pushed on girls from every angle, and where you can walk into a Toys R Us and find a “Girls” and “Boys” section (marked as such) this book deserves a second life.

Have at it, kids.  Tear me asunder.  Or read James Preller’s fantastic post on the book from two years ago, including much of the text and interior images.  He even links to this in-depth explanation of how Ms. Zolotow was inspired to write the book.

Answer to the Above Stumper: It was Ellen Raskin.  She illustrated the cover to Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time before eventually winning her own Newbery for The Westing Game.

Maggie is amazing. She’s in the summer of her life, between 4th and 5th grade, healthy, strong, happy, popular.

She’s my third child, after two boys, so there’s always a degree of otherness to Maggie. She’s from the other side, across the tracks, an exotic creature, a girl. I don’t and can’t relate to her in the same way as I do with her brothers. With Nick and Gavin, I can sometimes crawl into their skin and say, “I know exactly how they feel. I’ve been exactly there.” But with Maggie, there’s always a little leap, even if it’s only a synaptic gap.

Which is why I’ve always identified with this page from Charlotte Zolotow:

Lisa overheard our daughter talking with her friend, Jenna. They’d been going to basketball camp together, arranging play dates, sleep-overs. Entwined. And as they were parting, Jenna called out, “I love you, Maggie!”

Maggie answered, “I love you, too!”

It was natural, relaxed, immediate, real. I mean, there was nothing phony about it. Nothing premeditated. That’s how they feel about each other and, so, they said so.

How nice.

This has never happened with my boys. No judgment, I’m just saying. If Gavin or Nick loved one of his friends (which is entirely possible, even probable), 1) I don’t think he’d say so, and; 2) I’m not sure he’d know it exactly in that way or in those words. Wired differently, I guess.

I’ll have to think about this one some more. Is it harder for a boy to tell another boy that he loves him? As men, is that something we lack? I love you, dude. Right back atcha, bro.

Thoughts, comments?

Mr. Rabbit and the Lovely Present
by Charlotte Zolotow
Pictures by Maurice Sendak
Harper & Row, 1962

by Charlotte Zolotow pictures by Ben Shecter HarperCollins 1969 Another book that has the familiarity of being from my childhood, though I'm not really certain I actually did read this before. It feels familiar, which is to say that it taps the same areas of nostalgia that other books from the late 60s and early 70s leave me feeling.I hate hate hated my friend.The book opens with this line,

I’m glad I checked my comments spam filter today, because look what I almost missed! Sorry, Sherry; I don’t know why the filter zapped you. We’re big Semicolon fans here, even if my filter isn’t.

I wanted to tell you that I’m starting something new at Semicolon, and you’re certainly invited to join in along with any of your readers. It’s called Semicolon Author Celebration, and to start with I’m looking for posts about Charlotte Zolotow on this Thursday, her birthday.

For more information, click here.

Of course, today is Thursday, which means the Charlotte Zolotow post is already up!

Author: Dayle Ann Dodds (on JOMB)
Illustrator: Abby Carter (on JOMB)
Published: 2007 Candlewick Press (on JOMB)
ISBN: 0763624683 Chapters.ca Amazon.com

Cheerfully wobbly illustrations combine with rhyme, repetition and a cast of colourful characters to make this sneaky introduction to fractions a read-aloud hit.

Other books mentioned:

• Minnie’s Diner: A Multiplying Menu
• Sleeping Dragons All Around

Poetry Fridays are brought to us by Kelly Herold of Big A, Little A.