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The mail on Christmas Eve included a hard copy of the Spring/Summer 2010 catalog from Little, Brown and Company Books for Young Readers, featuring — to my immense delight — a couple of good friends of mine on both the front and back covers.

That alone would have made for a happy holiday. But better still was the book that my beloved gave me the next day: Daniel Pennac’s delicious The Rights of the Reader. I could quote from it all day long, but will stick to just this one:

Time to read is always time stolen. (Like time to write, for that matter, or time to love.)

Thanks for stealing a little time to read what I’ve had to say this year. And here’s to more stolen time for all of us in 2010, for each of those purposes above.

When I showed up for my first school visit this past Wednesday, I don’t think I’d even shut my car door before I heard that holler of recognition. There was a class and their teacher sitting outside reading The Day-Glo Brothers, and my daylight-fluorescent green tie gave me away as the author. What a welcome! And what an omen for the great day that lay ahead.

I delivered a brand-new presentation — Me? Write Science? — to three groups of seventh-graders who had just begun their own writing projects for an upcoming science fair, and it was easily the highlight of my week. (The highlight of the highlight? Hearing my tie described as “beast.”) But there’s been other good stuff lately, too:

The 2009 Teddy Award nominees have been announced by the Writers League of Texas. Congratulations to Dotti, Jenny, Kathi, and Xavier!

Elizabeth Bird included a nifty little write-up about Tom Lichtenheld’s Shark Vs. Train illustrations in her post about Little, Brown’s fall/winter preview. Thanks, Fuse!

If you’ll be attending the Texas Library Association conference this week, I’ll be easy to spot, if you’re so inclined. I’ll be the guy in the T-shirt approximating the shade of daylight-fluorescent green used in The Day-Glo Brothers.

What’s in it for you? Well, I’ll show you my last remaining advance copy of my book. (Just try and stop me.)

What else? How about a sneak preview of SVT, the picture book that Tom Lichtenheld and I have coming out next year from Little, Brown?

Want more? Fine. I’ll even let you in on the closely held secret of what “SVT” stands for, an entire week or two before it gets spilled here on Bartography.

I hope we have a deal, and that I’ll see you there.

...but why is it that I get more writing done when I unplug my internet connection and can't find my iPod?

I just finished a draft of my ninth Impostors profile. That leaves one more profile to go -- plus a concluding chapter, plus assorted cleanup -- before I send the whole thing to my editor, ideally on or before December 21. I think I can do it.

And with the text and sketches for S.V.T. now headed for copyediting, an actual Christmas vacation is starting to seem within reach.

A little under two years ago, inspiration took me to a strange and unexpected place, and from that place emerged a completely silly picture book known in these parts as S.V.T. About a year and a half ago, Little, Brown bought that manuscript, and then the (completely expected, thoroughly understandable) waiting began, during which time I moved on to other things.

This past Monday, I was all set to continue working on the latest profile in my YA nonfiction project on impostors (a profile for which I've learned a lot about the leech-wholesaling business, among other things), when revision notes came in from the editor and illustrator of S.V.T.

For the briefest moment, I panicked: During the two-week turnaround time requested, could I even get back to that weirdo mental state I'd been in when S.V.T. first came to me, let alone produce anything worthwhile?

Then I got to work. I opened up all my old folders and drafts, reacquainted myself with my characters and sensibility, and got going. By the end of the week, I had scraps of paper -- some for old bits of the manuscript, some for new bits -- stuck to the wall and door of my study in something less than totally haphazard fashion, ready to be reworked. My sons were back into full-on help-Daddy-brainstorm mode. I'm having a blast. All is good.

And I'm reasonably certain that, a week from Tuesday, I'll be able to jump right back in with the leeches.

I got the official announcement this week that my agent and my S.V.T. editor will both be at the next big Austin SCBWI conference. And though it's not until April 26, 2008, I'm already plenty excited. This will be only my second in-person get-together with my agent, and the first time to meet my editor.

You New York authors, with your New York agents and your New York editors -- do you realize how lucky you are?

Four months after I announced the sale here, I have at last seen, signed (in triplicate), and sent in to Little, Brown my contract for S.V.T. It tickled me to see the silliness of the plot boiled down to a single paragraph in a sea of legalese.

Any time you can find something amusing in a legal document, take it.

Greetings to the thousands of you finding your way to Bartography this week from the "Blogs of Note" area on Blogger's home page. Now that you're here...

A few months ago, I sold a picture book to Little, Brown. We're not sayin' what the title is, because it gives too much away. But its initials are "S.V.T.," and if you're the first to guess what those initials stand for, you'll get a free copy of the book.

When it's published.

In 2010.

A couple of hints:

1. Of all the guesses via these posts, one person has correctly guessed one of the three words in the title.
2. The "V" does not stand for "Vomit."

And it's Tom Lichtenheld.

As in, What Are You So Grumpy About?

As in, What's With This Room?

As in, Everything I Know About Monsters...

Pirates...

and Cars.

Am I excited? Well, let's just say I had envisioned Tom illustrating this book even before Little, Brown entered the picture.

1. Everyone sees S.V.T. as a "boy book." I agree that it is, especially since I know the boys who inspired it, but it's still been a little startling to hear folks so unabashedly say so. There's clearly a hunger for books that boys in particular will want to read again and again.
2. Gail was onto something when she commented, "Selling a second book may actually be more satisfying than selling the first. You sell the first book and you think, Could this be a fluke?" Yes, indeed. My last sale was nearly 2 1/2 years ago, and it's getting close to two years since I started this blog -- frankly, I was starting to get a little self-conscious about not having had an announcement like this to make sooner.
   
3. The acquiring editor is someone I've been submitting manuscripts to for over five years now. Thank you, persistence.
4. Since the year began, three houses expressed a strong interest in this manuscript, but one of them ultimately did not make an offer due to a bit of internal turmoil. I wonder how often that happens.
5. I hated saying no to the other editor who did make a bid. Hated it. I have not worked this hard and this long only to decline editors' kind offers to give me money in exchange for my writing, and it just felt weird.
   
6. My agent did not think much of my suggestion that, to spare any hurt feelings, we sell S.V.T. to both editors. But I figure that -- as long the two versions came out in the same season, and nobody at either house read the reviews too closely, and I didn't somehow mistakenly invite both editors and their respective illustrators to my country estate for the same weekend, thus setting the scene for much door-slamming farcical hilarity -- my plan would work just fine.
7. I'm just delighted by all the (wrong, wrong, wrong!) guesses about what S.V.T. stands for and by the thoughtfulness of Don, Gregory K., Fuse #8, and Tim in spreading my good news. [Edited to thank Chicken Spaghetti, Jen Robinson, and Cynsations, too. And the Cybils! And Book Moot! Mitali's Fire Escape, too!] Say, has anyone ever told you people that the kidlitosphere is the place to be?

Breaking news: I've just sold my second book!

Little, Brown is going to publish the thoroughly silly, not-at-all-nonfictional, just-something-I-made-up picture book that I've been referring to here as "S.V.T." And in fact, because the book is so concept-driven, and because the actual title gives so much of that concept away, and because I'm just plain paranoid, I'm going to continue to refer to it by its acronym.

But if you're the first person to guess what "S.V.T." stands for, not only will I not stamp my feet until I go through a hole in the floor, I'll give you a free copy of the book -- you know, in a few years.

This has been a thrilling few weeks watching this deal come together, and I'm just as happy as can be. It was fascinating to watch my agent do her thing, and it just about killed me not to spill the partially cooked beans here on Bartography. I could go on and on about this whole experience -- as you already know if you're my wife, kids, agent, or mother -- but I have no idea where to start (or stop).

Many thanks to my family for their inspiration and enthusiasm, to Don, Julie and Gregory K. for reading an early draft of S.V.T., and to Agent E for finding such an exciting home for this manuscript. Wheeee!

News from editors on S.V.T., Pasta, James and Smith.

P.O.'s return to circulation.

The right time to travel a few hundred miles east for some on-site research for J.R.

Anything that may develop from an animation studio's recent out-of-the-blue inquiry about one of my projects.

TLA!