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By Hannah Barnaby
for Cynthia Leitich Smith's Cynsations

In early 1999, I was a graduate student in the children’s literature program at Simmons College in Boston.

I had a work study job at the Simmons social work school, mailing out applications and entering information into a computer, and that’s where I was on the morning of February 16th—sitting at someone else’s desk, collating papers—when the phone rang.

I ignored it. It wasn’t my phone.

It stopped, and rang again, and stopped, and finally the receptionist came in and said, “You need to answer that. It’s for you.”

It was my father, and he was crying, and he told me that my brother Jesse was dead.

I was twenty-four years old. My brother was not even twenty-one.

There is no good reason for why it has taken me seventeen years to write Some of the Parts (Knopf, 2016), the story of Tallie McGovern, who is sixteen and has lost her big brother and feels that she has no right to still be alive. There is no good reason, except that I was afraid to write Tallie’s story because I knew that it would bring that day in 1999 rushing back like an unstoppable river.

And it did. I remembered things that I was sure I’d forgotten, like the single red mitten on top of a fence that I saw as I walked to the T station after that phone call.

Like the first thing I ate after I found out: a tuna sandwich.

Like the ride home to Albany from Boston that night, like what my mother looked like when I saw her at the door, like the guilt and the aching sadness of an empty chair in our kitchen.

I am often asked about the process of writing for teen readers, about accessing my “inner teen,” about telling stories that they can relate to. But the truth is that the experiences which truly shape us—loss and gain, trauma and victory, love and devastation—refuse to be forgotten.

We have only to glance back at them and they reanimate, like a movie unpaused, and they start to talk and move and sing.

Tallie’s story unfolded that way. I expected that writing Some of the Parts would be difficult, and it was. Nate is not my brother, and Tallie is not me, but much of their story is taken from my own and that is how I wrote this book—not just for teens, but for everyone who has lost somebody important.

I didn’t expect that it would heal me all over again. But it did.

I spoke to my brother’s friends from high school and college. I listened to his favorite music (Charlie Parker). I read his favorite writers (James Michener and William Faulkner). I ate his favorite ice cream (vanilla). I spent time with him, the way that Tallie spends time with Nate. I walked through every part of her story right along with her and when she was finally safe again, I knew that I was, too.

I don’t know if Jesse was an organ donor. He died in a fire and most of his personal belongings were damaged or lost, including his driver’s license. But he cared deeply about his family and his friends and the world we lived in with him, and in that way, he lives on.

As for me: I have a little heart on the bottom of my driver’s license. I am very careful crossing the street, and I always wear my helmet.

I have a little boy now. When Some of the Parts is published—on the seventeenth anniversary of my brother Jesse’s death—my son will be nearly six. He loves vanilla ice cream, and music, and reading. He has brown hair and dark eyes, like the uncle he will never meet.

Before I wrote this book, I didn’t talk about my brother with my children very often, because I thought it would be too sad, and because I didn’t know what tell them. Writing Some of the Parts gave me the words to say, and I hope those words are taken by readers and used in conversations about loss of all kinds.

Sometimes bad things happen, and we are not the same when they are over.

This is the line from Some of the Parts that sums it all up for me. When we lose someone, their empty space doesn’t get filled up. It isn’t like digging a hole in the sand and watching the hole disappear when the tide comes in. It’s more like this:



We grow around the memory of the people we’ve lost, and we carry them with us. And if we’re feeling very brave one day, we write about them.

Cynsational Notes

Hannah Barnaby is the author of Wonder Show (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2013), a Morris Award finalist; Some of the Parts; and the upcoming picture books Bad Guy and Garcia & Colette. She is a proud graduate of Vermont College of Fine Arts and a former children’s book editor and bookseller.

Hannah lives in Charlottesville, VA with her family and teaches creative writing to anyone who will listen. Find her on Twitter @hannahrbarnaby.

Learn more about Hannah’s upcoming Write for Your Life workshop at The Writing Barn in Austin.

Cynsational Giveaway


Enter to win a signed copy of Some of the Parts by Hannah Barnaby (Knopf, 2016) and a sterling silver heart necklace. Author sponsored. Eligibility: U.S. only.

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Last month, we were excited to announce the establishment of the Lee & Low and Friends Scholarship in conjunction with Simmons College. This scholarship will provide opportunities for students of color to enroll in the Simmons College graduate program in children’s literature, one of the country’s finest.

In this interview, we talk to two of the key players behind the new scholarship. Cathryn M. Mercier, PhD is the Director of the Center for the Study of Children’s Literature at Simmons College and the director of the center’s M.A. and M.F.A. programs. Jason Low is the Publisher/Co-owner of LEE & LOW BOOKS.

Specifically, who will the scholarship help in terms of preparing for a career in publishing?

Cathryn M. Mercier: Our graduate programs attract students from a wide range of professional interests. They can be writers enrolled in an MFA program who are in graduate seminars with students intending to pursue careers as librarians or teachers; with students who want to pursue doctoral studies where they can focus on literature for young people; with reviewers or booksellers or rare book dealers; with others seeking careers in children’s book publishing – in editorial, marketing, design. The cross-professionalism of a graduate program in children’s literature that itself embraces the cross-disciplinarity and multi-vocality of the field appeals to students who share the belief that books change lives.

While there are always slight shifts in the student’s professional interests, the past ten years have seen a steady increase in the number of students wanting to enter publishing. Yet, we consistently find that doors to the field are very hard to open. Writers in the program find it difficult to get their work read by either editorial departments or by literary agents. As the competition to be read increases, writers of color struggle to find their way into publishing venues.

Similarly, internships – often operating as volunteer positions and once considered a version of career exploration – have become a necessary apprenticeship. Yet, many many students need to work during the summers; they simply cannot afford to take on a volunteer internship. Even a stipended internship might help to pay the rent, but it may not go much further than that.

First-generation college students – of which I am one – find it very hard to enter publishing partly because they just don’t “know the ropes” and need mentoring; and, again I speak from experience, they find it financially challenging to give up summer earnings for an internship when those earnings are needed elsewhere.

I do believe that this scholarship will make accessible a whole range of publishing arenas – writing, marketing, editing, agency, publicity – to students who have been otherwise disadvantaged, discouraged, or simply excluded from those fields. The scholarship might go to a student in the writing program to alleviate tuition costs; it might go to a student in the form of a stipend to support internship work; it might go to a student seeking to complete a nonfiction (or fiction!) manuscript and needing to complete research. Yes, I am looking at the scholarship as a way to diversify our student body and I hope that this opportunity for scholarship consideration will appeal to prospective students of color.

How will the scholarship help bring equity to publishing?

CMM: In one sense, this scholarship will first change the pipeline of those entering the study of literature for children and young adults. Our program’s commitment to diversity and inclusion means that all students are engaged in thinking about who is and is not included in literature; about the terms of inclusion; about the authority and authenticity of representations of diverse experiences. I mention this because equity comes from changing who works in publishing and from changing how anyone who works in publishing thinks about diversity and inclusion – of what they publish and to whom they sell what they publish.

Jason Low: If the scholarship can lessen the economic burden of obtaining an advanced degree from Simmons, we may be able to contribute to diversifying future publishing staffs. Simmons graduates go on to become librarians who influence collection development and serve on award committees. They also become reviewers who are the tastemakers of the industry. And many Simmons alumni become editors who are responsible for acquiring stories that may inspire children for generations to come. These are all key positions that make up the publishing ecosystem, and currently these roles are overwhelming white.

Cathryn, what gave you the idea to create a publishing scholarship?

CMM: Our program has a number of scholarships for students and students across the spectrum of professional careers as well as students from diverse backgrounds have always been considered for all scholarships. However, as I heard more and more students wanting to enter publishing, as I saw the need for more books by writers of color, and as I saw the movement from an internship as an optional experience to an apprenticeship, I became quite interested in addressing this specific set of needs. The program had an alumna who wanted to commit to increasing diversity in the student body and found motivation in the current student interest in publishing as well as the need to diversify publishing.

Cathryn, what are some of the challenges you faced in establishing this scholarship, and how did you overcome them?

CMM: The primary challenge was in getting to the goal of $100,000 so that the fund could be named. Again, we had an alumna donor wanting to make a significant gift and we had Lee & Low’s significant gift, but still we were not at the naming level. Naming is important for a whole range of reasons – not the last of which is that a named scholarship helps with recruitment and a student who is awarded a named scholarship gets to wear that banner throughout their career. Our alumna donor was so excited about the Lee & Low interest that she asked if we might be able to name the scholarship “Lee & Low…and Friends.” In addition, when she saw that we were close, but not close enough, she earmarked part of her gift as a challenge grant to the entire alumni body of the children’s literature programs. Within months, and through the generosity of many donors, we reached the goal.

Of course, we do hope that the fund will continue to grow. Just because we reached our goal does not mean that we’ve closed the book on this one! I know that a scholarship dedicated to diversifying our student body will continue to be a compelling one for alumni – and hopefully for others in publishing who wish to effect necessary change.

Why did Lee & Low Books partner with Simmons College to establish a scholarship?

JL: Inequality pervades almost every aspect of life, from the films and TV shows we watch, to the books we read, to the people we call our neighbors. To believe that the lack of representation in the workplace does not in some way greatly influence the kinds of books published and how they are marketed, sold, and reviewed is naïve at best and willfully ignorant at worst.

Since Lee & Low is an employer of people who work in publishing, we have seen a good many resumes come across our desks over the years. Many of the most qualified candidates went to Simmons College, so a partnership with Simmons represents an important piece of the puzzle.

Jason, why do you think it is the responsibility of publishers to offer opportunities like this? What would you say to other publishers who have been approached to help sponsor similar programs?

 JL: Quite simply the push has to come from publishers; they need to make a definitive statement that the industry wants to change. In the scheme of things, the Lee & Low and Friends Scholarship is just the beginning. For this scholarship to be successful, it has to grow and remain active for many consecutive years for it to make a dent in publishing’s diversity deficit. Lee & Low cannot do it alone. We need other publishers to step up and replicate this scholarship at other colleges with publishing and librarianship programs.

Recruitment is one key part of diversifying the industry; retainment is another. What steps does Simmons take to ensure that diverse students feel welcome at Simmons once they are accepted?

CMM: Graduate students attend orientation and School (we are in the School of Library and Information Science) has a wide range of student groups – many of them affinity groups – that students join. Nonetheless, a few days ago I met with the graduate program’s student advisory board to solicit their help and insight about increasing facets of diversity and inclusion throughout our graduate programs. They suggested extending the kind of mentoring work that we do with MFA candidates, thesis writers, and independent projects to diverse students. MFA, etc., students are placed with individual mentors to work on creative or scholarly projects. I’m interested in how we might develop such a mentoring program for diverse students.

What are some of the benefits for all students of a more diverse student body?

CMM: What aren’t the benefits? The best graduate seminar discussions come for the widest range of possible experiences and insights. Some of our assignments require collaboration, and successful collaboration means working within and across differences. In a graduate classroom, we look at the ways in which one’s culture matters in a book and to do that best, we need to have cultural diversity and multiple voices in all our conversations. The more diverse the student body, the more voices we have from all elements of our complex society, the better we become at unpacking our differences and shaping a shared future. 

Jason, how diverse is the staff of Lee & Low Books?

JL: Lee & Low is one of the few minority-owned publishers. Overall, our staff is reflective of this with 69% of our staff consisting of people of color.

What are some of the economic benefits of a more diverse work staff?

JL: Different perspectives help grow a business in ways that management could never predict or come up with on its own. Our staff is an integral part of what has helped Lee & Low become a stronger company and we value our staff by listening to them. Our diverse staff (in terms of race, ethnicity, and gender) puts Lee & Low in a unique position to act on a mission that has evolved. When Lee & Low was first founded in 1991, our mission was to publish multicultural books. Over time, we added stories with characters with disabilities and LGBTQAI themes. Who knows how the mission will expand next. Publishing books is a quietly passionate business. Having staff of all backgrounds who are deeply invested in diverse books matters. So are there economic benefits to hiring diversely? Yes, there are.

You have said that this scholarship is one way to address the “pipeline” problem in which publishers struggle to find qualified diverse candidates for positions. What are some other ways the industry can address this problem?

JL: When we are looking at entry-level candidates to hire, we often look for some relevant experience, usually in the form of publishing internships. Recently, we converted our internship program to accept diverse candidates only. We also made our internships paid, since many college kids cannot afford to serve in unpaid internships.

When publishers are looking to fill positions they may try to expand their search to colleges outside of their normal circles. Sending representatives to colleges to talk about careers in publishing is the kind of outreach that may be necessary to inform people that publishing is a rewarding career that is worth serious consideration. I have been to schools where students were unaware of our industry, but after I finished my presentation, they were interested.

Finally, once diverse staff is hired, mentorships should be provided. Being the only African American person in a department can be a challenge. Empathy and clear support from the top goes a long way. The only way the industry will become more diverse is by retaining the diverse candidates who decide to choose publishing as a career. Retention is crucial.

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As our readers know, LEE & LOW BOOKS focuses on publishing books that are about everyone, for everyone. Our books feature a diverse range of characters and cultures, and we strive to work with and publish authors of color with our New Voices Award and New Visions Award.

This is why we’re very excited to announce a new partnership with Simmons College. We have teamed up with The Center for the Study of Children’s Literature at Simmons College and established a scholarship to increase diversity in the world of children’s literature. The new Lee & Low and Friends Scholarship will provide opportunities for students of color to enroll in the most prestigious children’s literature graduate program in the United States.

The scholarship initiative is a partnership between two organizations committed to diversity in children’s literature. LEE & LOW BOOKS is the largest multicultural children’s book publisher in the country and a leader in the movement for more diversity in the publishing industry. The graduate programs in children’s literature at Simmons College are dedicated to bringing a wide range of voices into books for children and young adults, and to providing students access to careers that diversify the field of children’s literature.

“Lee & Low is excited to be partnering with Simmons College to provide a meaningful way to address one of the most challenging obstacles in bringing more equity to publishing: the pipeline problem,” says Jason Low, publisher of LEE & LOW BOOKS.

Unpaid internships and costly graduate programs, combined with low entry-level salaries, are significant barriers for many hoping to work in publishing. The Lee & Low and Friends Scholarship will support students for whom the traditional entrances to publishing remain closed, and thus create a pathway for diverse graduate students to positions in which they can influence what and how children’s literature is created.

The $100,000 scholarship fund was created through donations from LEE & LOW BOOKS and Simmons College alumni. The first recipients will be chosen for fall 2016. “Children’s Literature at Simmons welcomes this collaboration with Lee & Low as we team up to create venues of access that lead to lasting change,” says Cathryn M. Mercier, Director of the Center for the Study of Children’s Literature at Simmons. For more information, contact [email protected].

***

ABOUT THE CENTER FOR THE STUDY OF CHILDREN’S LITERATURE AT SIMMONS COLLEGE: Established in 1977, the Center for the Study of Children’s Literature supports the advancement of the study of children’s and young adult literature through nationally recognized partnerships and graduate programs, including the nation’s
first Master of Arts in Children’s Literature and Master of Fine Arts: Writing for Children, as well as several innovative dual degree options. To learn more, visit simmons.edu/academics/graduate-programs/childrens-literature-ma.

ABOUT LEE & LOW BOOKS: Established in 1991, LEE & LOW BOOKS is the largest children’s book publisher in the United States specializing in diversity. Under several imprints, the company provides a comprehensive range of notable diverse books for beginning readers through young adults. Visit leeandlow.com to learn more.

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What an invigorating weekend here on the Simmons College campus, as current students, alums, authors, illustrators, teachers, librarians, academics, booksellers, book lovers, etc., etc., etc., came together for the 2015 Summer Children’s Literature Institute: Homecoming. Some highlights are below, and in no particular order. We know. We tried to make it brief. But we just couldn’t. Sorry not sorry.

Shoshana:

Though Michelle H. Martin, who’d taught the longer Symposium class, was unfortunately unable to attend the weekend Institute, Cathie Mercier, director of the Center for the Study of Children’s Literature at Simmons College, read a brief message from Michelle and then opened the floor to her students, who stepped up and opened the Institute with a glimpse into the work they’d done in her class. We heard astute comparisons between seemingly disparate books, and more about those books’ reflections of home. It was a reminder of the depth of analysis that’s common here at Simmons, and should have been required listening for anyone with any doubts that children’s literature is a serious field of study.

Bright and early on Saturday morning, Vicky Smith, children’s and teen editor at Kirkus Reviews, moderated a panel with illustrators Shadra Strickland, Hyewon Yum, and David Hyde Costello, citing images of home from each panelist’s work and asking about the thoughts behind the images. We learned that Shadra feels it’s important to show children of color in happy, whimsical settings; that Hyewon remembers leaving home to start school but now identifies more with the mother being left at home; and that David thought hardest about a minor character in Little Pig Joins the Band. All three illustrators’ work had enough images of home — some comforting and some unsettling — to drive home (ha!) the importance, especially in childhood, of having a familiar place to return to.

I attended several of the Master Seminars that were offered throughout the weekend. Lauren Rizzuto’s seminar examined the politics of sentiment in children’s literature, and the valuing of emotion both within texts and in response to texts. Amy Pattee borrowed Cathie’s impossible and totally unfair often-difficult exercise of asking those present to divide themselves into those who emphasize books and those who emphasize readers. From those perspectives, we examined some critically successful books and some that were popular in terms of sales, and discussed what each metric values. Jeannine Atkins shared some thoughts about what makes a verse novel work, offering specific, technical advice as well as larger observations. I left Lauren’s seminar feeling a bit more justified in my own feelings of affection toward literary characters; Amy’s with a greater understanding of how my bookselling past informs my thinking; and Jeannine’s with a few ideas of my own.

On Friday night Barbara Harrison and Gregory Maguire turned the Mary Nagel Sweetser Lecture into a two-voice, three-act play about a subject dear to many of our hearts: the Center for the Study of Children’s Literature at Simmons College. Harrison, the Center’s founder, and Maguire, its first graduate, performed the story of how they got here and how the Center developed. That story, of course, included quotes from quite a few children’s books, words that many of us at Simmons have heard echoing in our ears. Between that and the photos of some familiar faces in bygone years, it was quite the multimedia presentation, and struck a chord with many in the audience.

On Saturday night Jack Gantos gave the most straightforward presentation I’d ever heard from him. It took us back to his childhood home; climbed stairs and trudged through snow to his writing home at the Boston Athenaeum; and scrawled its way through his writing process, but there were no leaps this time to, say, a hypothetical mausoleum. Instead, he connected his thoughts back to the idea of home so relentlessly, the repetition was almost as big a joke as the other actual jokes peppered throughout the speech. Jack Gantos can home in on one idea…who knew?

On Sunday morning M. T. Anderson recalled his adventurous travels abroad, featuring miscommunications that resulted from his learned-from-opera French and a fight with feral cats over a poorly prepared chicken. He realized it might be easier to instead write about places he’d never seen and extrapolate based on books and maps, an epiphany that resulted in the highly creative version of Delaware that appears in some of his books. We were even treated to his rendition of Delaware’s anthem.

Elissa:

Friday morning, Bryan Collier, in conversation with Roger — and both in snappy bow ties! — talked about his Maryland hometown (and the chicken farms that he knew were not a part of his future plans). Growing up he was an athlete but also an artist. He didn’t know any other artists, so he left home to find some. The prolific illustrator talked about the work ethic involved in creating art, and he compared creativity to a body of water: some people dip in a toe, some wade in, and others will “jump off a cliff, backwards.” “What do you do when you feel like you’re drowning?” asked Roger. “Trust it. Surrender,” he said. (And speaking of liquids: later I was sitting next to Bryan, in his slick beige suit, and terrified I’d spill my iced coffee on him. Didn’t happen. Phew!)

Horn Book intern Alex introduced 2015 Newbery Award winner (for The Crossover, like I had to tell you that) Kwame Alexander to the crowd, forgetting the salient point — as the man himself was quick to point out — “Kwame Alexander is tall, dark, and handsome.” He is also an amazing speaker, as everyone who was at this year’s CSK Breakfast and Newbery-Caldecott Banquet already knows, both hypnotizing the audience with his confident flow of words and keeping them on their toes, with brains a-buzzing (there was some audience participation involved).

And how do you follow a speech that is by turns hilarious, heart-breaking, thought-provoking, swoon-worthy (those ladies at church never had a chance), eye-opening, electric, improvisatory…etc. etc.? First, with a standing ovation. Then with a talk by Rita Williams-Garcia, who talked to…herself. Williams-Garcia played the parts of both present-day Rita and thirty-three-year-old (“the age of Jesus”) Rita, discussing her work, her views, her past, future, and in-between times. She talked about the effect The Horn Book’s words had on her — “Rita Williams-Gracia may well turn out to be among the most prominent African-American literary artists of the next generation” — and her evolving thoughts on book awards, who-can-write-for-whom?, and the n-word. It was moving. And deep. And we don’t even mind that Big Ma wasn’t based on a real person.

Martha:

Editor Neal Porter and artist Laura Vaccaro Seeger (whose art was on display in Simmons’s Trustman Gallery all weekend) took us, step by step, through her creative process — with the added bonus that we also got an illuminating glimpse into their working relationship. They shared (mostly late-night) emails, the journals in which Laura loosely brainstorms ideas (but retroactively goes back and gives tables of contents — she’s a born organizer, apparently), and how three of her picture books came to be: Green; a new book coming out this September called I Used to Be Afraid; and a work in progress, a companion to Green called Blue. As usual, their affection and respect for each other permeated the presentation, whether Laura was demonstrating the challenges of using die-cuts or Neal was exhorting the value of the printed picture book. To paraphrase: No one has yet come up with a more efficient format for telling a story in words and pictures than a picture book you can hold in your hand. It’s all about the page turns, and swiping through an e-book doesn’t provide that. (And his analogy — something about slapping an iPad with a dead fish in order to “page” through a picture book? — is pretty hard to get out of your mind.)

Katie:

Molly Idle doesn’t write presentation notes, but she doesn’t need to — charming, high-energy, and insightful, she captivated the crowd. (One tweet read, “I think everyone here has a crush on Molly Idle right now. I know I do” to which Molly herself replied, “It’s a mutual admiration society. :)” How great is that?) She talked about her trajectory from animation to illustration, how becoming an illustrator felt like a kind of homecoming, and the logistics of sharing studio space with her family. I was lucky enough to get to pick her brain about how illustration is like dance — “If you could just say it, you wouldn’t need to draw it!” — at dinner afterwards.

Moving from commune to commune during her childhood, Emily Jenkins (a.k.a. E. Lockhart) found home in books and in shared reading experiences that represented stability in her otherwise uprooted life. As a result of her nomadic upbringing, she came to believe that home is not a nostalgic place to return to (i.e., your parents’ house) but rather something you make for yourself every day. She went on to examine some fascinating examples of literary independent children, such as Pippi Longstocking and the Boxcar Children, and how they create home for themselves. Emily closed with a moving passage from her book Toys Come Home:

“Why are we here?” asks Plastic.
“We are here,” says StingRay, “for each other.”
Oh.
Of course we are.
Of course we are here for each other.

Elaine Dimopoulos, debut author of fashion-meets-dystopian novel Material Girls, is really super smart. (She’s also a grad school classmate and good friend of mine, so I am probably a little bit biased. But even Emily Jenkins says Elaine is “crazy smart.”) Elaine discussed the ways that the traditional narrative structures of home–away–home (for younger kids’ fiction) and home–away (for YA) are no longer realistic, and offered some solutions to help writers get grown-ups out of the picture and allow child/teen characters some breathing room. Elaine also told us the story of how, as a Simmons grad student, she introduced speaker M. T. Anderson at the 2005 Summer Institute (and how it changed her life), as well as a little about being a Writer in Residence at the BPL.

And that was it! You know, just all that. There was a wrap-up by Cathie and Megan Dowd Lambert, and everyone went *home* (or wherever), recharged, refreshed, rejuvenated. For a recap in verse (and in homage), check out Shoshana’s “Good Night, Paresky Room.”

See you in two years…

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With apologies to Margaret Wise Brown, a recap of Homecoming inspired by the homiest book of them all.

In the Paresky room,
there were tweeting phones
and thought balloons
with pictures of
the places we’ve dwelt, and with whom.
There were dogs and bears,¹ and familiar chairs,
and pulses² that quicken at art, not at chickens.
Home, and publishing house,³
and a pig and his spouse,⁴
and a book-signing rush, and the impulse to gush,
and a dean in her teacher voice begging us, “Hush.”
Thank you room
with hallowed aura.
Thank you silent, dancing Flora.⁵
Thank you artists who fuss and fuss.⁶
Thank you authors who board the bus.⁷
Thank you Rita
and thank you Rita.⁸
Thank you fashion
and thank you passion.⁹
Thank you shelves
that locate selves.¹⁰
Thank you Jack, who kept to theme.¹¹
Thank you Tobin’s Delaware dream.¹²
The stories of Simmons could fill quite a tome.¹³
We’re clicking our heels, for there’s no place like home.

_______________________________________

1. and Laura Vaccaro Seeger
2. like Bryan Collier’s
3. such as Neal Porter Books
4. David Hyde Costello’s example of casual porcine diversity
5. created by the delightfully talkative Molly Idle
6. including but not limited to Hyewon Yum
7. led by Kwame Alexander
8. Rita Williams-Garcia, age 33, and Rita Williams-Garcia, age 58, who held an enlightening conversation
9. and thank you Elaine Dimopoulos, who has both
10. because, as Emily Jenkins put it, “Home is where you keep your books”
11. Jack Gantos brings home the record for use of the word “home.”
12. M. T. Anderson’s version of Delaware may have involved some imagination
13. Or a three-act play performed by Barbara Harrison and Gregory Maguire

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(Say *that* three times fast!)

Next week, visual artist, author, and illustrator Dr. Synthia Saint James will be on the Simmons College campus as the Eileen Friars Leader-in-Residence. Right now some of her art is being installed along the hallway outside the Horn Book office. It’s lovely and thought-provoking — lucky us!

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Children’s Books Boston invites you to our second annual fall get-together on Thursday, September 11 from 5:30PM to 8PM in the Paresky Center at Simmons College. We perhaps wisely decided against trust falls as an ice-breaking activity; instead, all attendees are invited to bring a children’s book for exchange. A five dollar donation (cash only) is requested for snacks and a drink; if you’d like to attend RSVP at this link and I’ll see you there.

The post Party down appeared first on The Horn Book.

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(Thanks to Kitty for the name!)

During lunch break, Martha, Kitty, and I were walking around our new Fenway ‘hood and we came across the James P. Kelleher Rose Garden. After being called “girls” by two charming tourist ladies of a certain age who were looking for restaurant suggestions, we went in to the garden to explore. It’s beautiful roses as far as the eye can see — and a lovely spot to take a little break (or to take a book and read).

The post Our secret garden appeared first on The Horn Book.

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Twice in the past week I’ve been asked to opine publicly about the future of books and libraries for children, first at the NYLA conference in White Plains and then at the investiture of Eileen Abels as the new dean of the Simmons GSLIS. I had far fewer answers than questions, which I present to you for possible mastication:

Whenever I worry about the future of publishing and, in particular, the demand for professional book reviews in an increasingly Amazoned world, I think, “well, I could always go back to being a librarian again.” I’m twenty-five years out from the Chicago Public Library but I still hold my union card in the form of an MA from Chicago’s Graduate Library School (itself gone for almost a quarter century as well).

But then I think, could I? My library school curriculum included no courses in electronic reference, never mind the web, which did not yet exist. In Don Swanson’s required computer class, we learned assembly language and how to program IBM punch cards. As a children’s librarian in the early 80s, I worked at a branch that boasted the first public-access microcomputer in a public library, the brain child of branch manager Patrick Dewey. Adults used it to access BBS networks; kids used it to play Pong-like games and use very elementary, black-and-white, educational programs. For story hours, our idea of high-tech was a filmstrip projector.

Still I tell myself that the basics of library work with children remain the same as when I was working in the 80s and in fact when Anne Carroll Moore and Alice Jordan, cheered on by the Horn Book’s Bertha Mahony Miller, were establishing children’s librarianship as a profession a century ago: Library service based in book collections and storytelling, presided over by librarians with deep knowledge of literature and methods of bringing children and books together. Last week I was at the White Plains Public Library in New York and while the place was so high-tech that I expected lasers to shoot from the ceiling, books—regular old print books—were everywhere.

How long will this remain true? As reading becomes increasingly at one with the ether, will librarians have a place? As even reader’s advisory becomes more automated and egalitarian, to whom do we give advice? If there is no physical collection of books to maintain and promote, what do our jobs become? I would like to believe that there are 21^st century Alice Jordans ready to colonize and civilize the brave new digital world, and I hope that our library schools are getting these pioneers packed and ready.

The post What’s a children’s librarian to do? appeared first on The Horn Book.

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Saturday I got to spend the day immersed in children's literature at Simmons College's Children's Literature Summer Institute.

So much fun.

I got a chance to listen to and chat with lots of talented folks, including David Small, Jack Gantos, and my Freak Sister, (a little inside joke) the sweet, smart and talented Jo Knowles.

One highlight for me was finally meeting my friend, the uber-talented, smart, kind, friendly, lovely, author Helen Frost.

Here we are looking a little blurry. We are much sharper than this.

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I had the opportunity to chat with a group of School Library Teacher students from Simmons College Graduate School of Library and Information Science on Twitter recently.  These students, from various parts of Massachusetts, are all working on practicum experiences in school libraries.  They meet up once a week on Twitter to support each other, compare notes,  puzzle out questions of teaching in libraries,  and help each other accurately document their  experiences in their required binder.  They use the hashtag #prakchat, for practicum chat, when they have these tweetups, as well as throughout the week to share their trials and triumphs on the front lines of their school libraries.

I was impressed by their initiative in using Twitter and the way they articulated its impact on their library school experiences.  The support of colleagues is so important in library school and in the profession in general. Professional Learning Networks need not rely on proximity. A simple agreement about how to communicate can go a long way.  Check out the transcripts from our two part conversation.

Part One

ErinCerulean Erin Daly
As I understand it the folks using the #prakchat hashtag are Simmons students. Are you all in Boston or are there some GSLIS West folks?

alidahanson Alida Hanson
@ErinCerulean we have one GSLIS west person #prakchat

ErinCerulean Erin Daly
@alidahanson Yay GSLIS West, that’s where I went!

alidahanson Alida Hanson
@ErinCerulean i can tell you how #prakchat started cuz I did it

alidahanson Alida Hanson
@ErinCerulean the twitter chat works for us because it’s impossible for us to get together with our busy schedules #prakchat

jendimmick Jennifer Dimmick
@alidahanson I agree! I <3 reading the stream the day after the chat time; don’t feel so left out. So helpful w/ideas & support.#prakchat

ErinCerulean Erin Daly
@alidahanson cool, you can tell me about it now and then I’ll come back and talk w/people at regular #prakchat time on Tuesday also.

alidahanson Alida Hanson
@ErinCerulean amanda bock wanted to put together a discussion group and asked for suggestions. #prakchat

alidahanson Alida Hanson
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