ten

Yep, ten. Ten years that is. Charlesbridge, the publisher of my first book "The Ugly Vegetables" has just agreed to put out a 10 year Anniversary edition of the book! The book is going to be redesigned with a new cover, some new spots and backgrounds. Very exciting!

For the new cover, I want to do a throwback to the work I did for Weekly Reader. These pieces are what caught my editor's eye and inspired the whole book:

conversations with Barbara McClintock

Last night, Elaine and I went to the Foundation for Children's Book talk with Barbara Mcclintock. These foundation events are great fun, the more I go to them the more I enjoy myself. And I am a big fan of Barbara McClintock's work as well so, of course, that was a large part of the enjoyment factor. She is just like her books-- lovely, elegant, tall...okay, her books are not tall but they are lovely and elegant:


And this is just a snippet of her lustrous body of work. Her work is also very shiny because of all the awards she has won: four New York Times Best Books, two Time Magazine Best Books, six NY Public Library 100 Recommended Books, two Parents Choice, an ALA Notable Book, a NEBA and probably many more stickers and trophies that are too redundant to mention.

The conversation was extremely interesting. I loved hearing about her process,her path, the ideas behind her work. In fact, talking about Adele and Simon set in Paris gave me a squirt of water for a set-in-China book idea that has been blossoming in my head...so these events are good for personal work as well!

However, my favorite anecdote from the conversation was how Barbara learned how to be a children's book illustrator. Nineteen years old and in North Dakota, she called Maurice Sendak on the phone(!) for advice. Which he gave her(!). This brought her to NYC, where she called up publishers from the yellow pages and met with them (!). Then, after having her book dummy rejected sixteen times(!), it was accepted. And it received a NY Times Best Book Award(!). All I can say is...wow.

I think times have changed(or at least Maurice has, from what I've heard!). Ironically, the only thing that is timeless from her story is that almost every publisher she met with told her that children's books was a nearly impossible field and it was extremely hard and competitive. Hmm, I guess things really haven't changed that much. I'm realizing more and more, going into this industry is truly an act of faith.


But I am glad that I have found fellow believers.

the fold

Fellow Fusion author, An Na's book "The Fold" just came out today and I look forward to reading it with great interest. In it, an Asian girl is offered the chance to get plastic surgery done on her eyes to give it the coveted caucasian eyefold.

And this surgery is quite common across Asia, especially in Taiwan. Having those eyefolds are mandates of beauty; something I experienced up close and personally.

Because at my photo shoot for my new author photo (my new novel is a Chinese folktale-inspired fantasy--since it takes place in an imagined reality, I thought it fit to have the author photo be a bit of a flight from the imagination as well), my eyes were the first thing that were changed. The make-up artist, after taking off my glasses, cut pieces of thin plastic and glued them to my eyelids and, voila!, I had eyefolds. I had misgivings about the entire procedure but was persuaded by the studio workers' coos of admiration.

And that is how they took me bouncing into the studio looking like this:



and changed me into this:

Yikes! (I also was instructed not to smile in the photos which is why I am smirking in all of them). Obviously, I have regrets.

Because now I, the me I know, am unrecognizable in the photos (the only good ones were the ones where I was looking down when the fake folds were not as noticeable). I realized, in that moment I allowed myself to choose between being "beautiful" and myself, when the original goal of the photos was to achieve both. I hope the character in An Na's book realizes the same.

author photo: take II

I realized that my dissatisfaction over my previous author photos had really nothing to do with the photos or the background, but my own author photo envy. The truth is after seeing fellow blue rose girl Linda's author photos, I realized how much more these photos could be. Not just a standard snapshot of a robotically-smiling author, Linda's photos are amazing--artworks themselves, they are a true extension of her creative self. See, like this:


and this:Can you blame me for having some author photo envy? They were such an inspiration that I was determined to do more with my pictures. However, since I have no Ophelia or Amelia Earhart tendencies in my blood or art, I obviously needed to think of something else.

So in China, when I saw this package of Old Calendar/1910-1940 postcards, the bells began to whistle in my head. Wouldn't it be fun to have an author photo like this:
or like this?But when I asked my mother if she had any qipaos (the Chinese dresses they wear) that I could borrow and told her why, she laughed. "Come to Taiwan," she said, "They have studios with costumes for people to do that in. It's very common and inexpensive."

So, last week, in Taiwan I did what they call a "glamour shoot." It is VERY common there and it is not very expensive (less than $100. US, though it depends on what package you want--some packages were crazy fancy--bound albums, posters, etc., I got the cheapest one). Apparently, engaged couples and teenagers do these fantasy glamour shoots fairly regularly--they are everywhere. Any store that seems to sell formalwear also offers these shoots.

And these shoots are not your run-of-the-mill come in, throw on a costume and get a poloroid either. I had kind of pictured it like the single shots you get at carnivals, when you put on old western clothing and get a fake sepia tintype. No, these are elaborate, complicated affairs that they ask at least two hours for.
So what do they do? Well, at my photo shoot, they covered my face with a mask of makeup so that I couldn't smile, stuck these strange transparent stickers on my eyelids to make my eyes larger, and shellacked my hair so that it could be snapped into two. When they finally allowed to take a peek through my glasses (I was not allowed to wear them so I was pretty blind to what was happening the whole time) it was actually quite a horrifying experience. "Don't worry," the make-up artist said in very broken English, "under camera light, looks very natural."

Well, at that point I just had to take her word for it. So I was pretty scared when I finally got the photos. And for good reason--they WERE scary! There was only one or two that I felt I could live with.

But luckily, one is all I needed...
to make my brand-new author photo! I hope they let me use it for the back of my novel. What do you think?

things that have changed

I have a five hour layover before getting on my flight to Taiwan and the airport seems to be bringing out the melancholy in me. Somehow, airports contain the key emotions of life and death. It is the place of joyful,loving greetings and painful, tearful farewells. And in between both is the helplessness of waiting.

And because so much of my travels used to happen with Robert or away from him, I can't help sit at an empty gate without thinking of him. It has been over half a year since his actual death, but in reality I had been grieving him for many. So, the finality of his last breath was in many ways the finality of an existence I had, the end of a person I was. For better or worse, his death transformed me.

Perhaps it is those changes that fill me with an unusual fearlessness. I find myself embracing happiness that might not be easily understood, working on projects without worrying about reviews, and losing interest in promotion. And I begin to grasp that my ideas for a successful life have been redefined--I no longer pine for movie deals, 6-digit advances or even the glory of a gold sticker. The success of colleagues with better toys, larger homes and fancier cars somehow leave me cheerfully indifferent. It might be temporary, but it is strangely freeing to realize that suddenly I do not care.

Don't get me wrong, I love my work, truly appreciate accolades and still strive for greatness. But as the days go on, I find myself redefining greatness as well. Perhaps greatness is connecting to people, not impressing them. Because admiration is an emotion one rarely sees at an airport.

Ed Emberley Inspiration

Last week, Anna and I had the treat of attending Elaine's North Shore Reading Council dinner and seeing Ed Emberley!

For those of you whom the name does not ring a bell, Ed Emberley is an icon to children's book illustrators, creating books like :

as well as his famous drawing book series like:

I'm a huge fan. To me, he embodies so many of the traits of what I aspire to professionally-- a career of longevity and quality books that always make a connection to their intended readers. Of course while my attempt to reach his pinnacle is mainly for his creative accomplishment, when he spoke of his two houses, his boat and his schedule of leisurely drawing in the morning and then choosing his afternoon activity of either biking, boating or skiing, I have to admit the motivations became a little stronger!

But he deserves it. Not only was he completely charming, his talk was inspiring. His theme was "Anyone can draw, at least the Ed Emberley way!" and it was easy to see how kids--usually so scared to make a mistake--would find their courage, both artistic and personal, from his books.


He drew the whole time he was speaking, which is why my photos are blurry! Never kept still for a minute, that man.

His talk was so good, both Anna and I began to reevaluate our own school visit programs. Were my presentations boring in comparison? I have to admit, I began to feel a bit of a panic. But luckily, both Lucille Beeth (Hi, Lucille!) and Pat Keough, librarians at the Weston School that I visited, were there and calmed my fears by mentioning their plans of inviting me again. Phew!


I'll try not to disappoint. Maybe I'll be better then ever--I would think so after seeing Ed Emberley as an inspiration.

back to work

So my sabbatical from work has ended, in reality it ended a while ago, but it was only recently that I returned to school visits. My first one was at 4 day event in the West Bloomington area of Michigan, where I am honored to say I was the official "Pine Tree" author. The Pine Tree program is a district-wide reading program, where students are challenged to read a specially selected book titles. Lucky for me, Year of the Dog was one of the titles which is how I wound up in West Bloomington.

But since it was a district wide program, that meant there were a lot of students. Let me repeat that, there were a lot of students. Really. The photo below only shows half the room, my camera did not have a wide enough lens to capture more than that. As I watched the students come into my presentation room, all I could think of was a quote from Homer Price (when the doughnut machine malfunctions): "they just kept right on a comin', an a comin', an a comin', an a comin', an a comin'."

And it's about at this point I realize that West Bloomington is kind of an intimidating place to make my inaugural return visit.

Nonetheless, I entered the gauntlet. And it wasn't too bad. Performing a school visit is like riding a bicycle-- but if you haven't ridden in a while the bicycle chain might be a bit rusty. For example, I presented a slide show to the fifth graders with this image:
Ah, I can still hear the tittering. The last time I presented that lecture it was to adults...and I forgot the middle school mentality when reviewing ahead of time. Oops. Needless to say, that slide was deleted before the next group.

Which went smoother; and by the second day I felt back in the swing of things. Confidence in full gear, I now only felt bad that I did such a mediocre job for the first group.

But the best thing about the visits really were the kids. Creating books alone as well as reading and experiencing discouraging industry news by myself makes me forget that my books are actually read. And that is a nice feeling.And truly makes it worth it to go back to work.

no use crying over broken eggs

This year I set aside some time to paint an egg for the Open Field Egg auction. It's similiar to Robert's Snow with different artists creating works of art to be auctioned off for charity, except it's an egg (not a snowflake) and the money goes to a school (not cancer research).

I'm trying to make it a point to do an egg every time I am asked, and to do a good job with it--at least attempting to make it an art piece of value. The egg auction is in honor of beloved children's illustrator Trina Schart Hyman (she founded the event). Trina participated in the first Robert's Snow, shortly before her death--ironically from cancer. Her snowflake was probably one of the last pieces of art she created. The least I could do was to at least try to paint an egg of quality for her namesake auction.

So with my recent trip to China as inspiration, I decided to paint a lantern scene--glowing red lanterns floating in the dark sky with crowds of people walking and gazing below--it was going to be detailed, intricate, beautiful...

until I broke the egg.

Luckily, the smart people of the Open Fields sent two eggs just for these type of calamities. But now I was running out of time. I had spent too long with the broken egg, now there was no way I could do the in depth lantern scene in the time I had. So, I had to quickly come up with a simpler design:


Which is an illustration of part of a poem by the Chinese poet Li Po:

The birds have vanished down the sky.
Now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me
until only the mountain remains.

It is one of my favorite poems, so for the time I had left, I was satisfied with the egg. But I think the lantern one would've been better. Oh well, maybe next time.

relic

While reorganizing my posessions I've been running across forgotten relics. As I leave for the family holidays, this artifact seems especially apropos (as well as hilarious). Yes, that's me put in the trash can by my older sister.

Christmas Miracle

Today, I did my holiday duty and went Christmas shopping for my niece and nephew, age 4 and infant. For a brief moment, I thought of getting clothes or shoes (because kid's clothes are the cutest) but then gave myself a mental slap. I'm a children's book author, I've got to support the biz. If I don't buy children's books for children, how can I expect others? Yes, I'm all about setting an example.

I have to admit it's been a while since I've gone shopping in a real store. I tend to do internet shopping; but since I was getting all high and mighty, I realized I should support an independent bookstore as well. So I went into my favorite children's bookstore and...was completely overwhelmed.

There are just so many books out there, crowding and overcrowding the shelves. I went in determined to buy a gem from a no-name upcoming author, but the sheer chaos was disheartening. Suddenly, from the consumer angle, I realized how intimidating it can be to buy a book. The pressure of choosing something age appropriate, reading-level appropriate, taste appropriate for the child, taste appropriate for the parents...suddenly, those cute baby shoes were looking like a good gift choice.

But just as I began to take a step back, I was given an epiphany as a present. I make a living making these books. How is that possible? It was humbling, and the prior feeling of self-righteous pride became one of intense gratitude. Some lovely, kind, patient people must have taken the time to find my books in this mess of a publishing universe,and that's rather a miracle. And one that deserves to be paid forward as a holiday tradition.