My book, Sarah Gives Thanks, comes out later this year and frankly I’m giddy.
It is about Sarah Josepha Hale, the first female magazine editor in America. She was also among the first female authors in America – and the very first to condemn slavery in a novel. (Take that, Harriet Beecher Stowe!) She was a tireless and highly influential advocate for women’s education. She led large, successful fundraising drives to turn both Bunker Hill and Mount Vernon into national landmarks. She wrote “Mary Had a Little Lamb!” And, perhaps best of all (as it is the subject of my book), she is the reason why we all celebrate a four-day weekend in November.
Despite her many accomplishments, most people have never heard of Sarah Josepha Hale, which is a shame. Thank goodness there are still a few Hale geeks out there just like me who understand the importance of immortalizing this fine woman in bobblehead form. (Kudos to you, New Hampshire Historical Society!)
When my wife, Ellen, was pregnant with Alex, she and I signed up for a birthing class at a nearby hospital. In this class we met another pregnant woman who loved to share very long and very personal stories about her life. As she relayed these stories, her husband would sit beside her and attempt to become invisible. The couple made quite an impression on me.
So, during class, I sketched them as frogs.
The class was for five weeks. This is the extent of my notes.
Bookshelf space was always at a premium in my childhood home. So when I outgrew my picture books, my mom wasted little time in packing them up into a giant cardboard box and depositing them in a dark, forgotten corner of the basement. Her plan was to parcel them out many years later after I had children of my own. The presentation of each book would be accompanied by the grandma bon mot: “Your daddy read this when he was your age!”
An unusually vicious rainstorm during my middle school years almost put an end to that plan. Most of the collection remained above the waterline but others were in sad and sorry shape.
But Mom and I ran hairdryers, Lysol-ed any pages that showed traces of mold and pressed the sorry specimens between dictionaries. Fortunately, most of the books that were beyond the pale were ones that could be easily replaced after my son was born. (The Diggingest Dog, for example.) Other books were no great loss. (Sure, I could buy a new copy of the unsettling Are You My Mother?,but will I? No, sir.)
I was thinking about this 20-odd-year-old event recently because it brought something into sharp focus: a basement flood is an excellent way to determine a book’s value. Most of the books in that wet box entertained me in one way or another, but only a couple of them really mattered.
I would guess that about three or four dozen books were waterlogged in that flood. Some were beyond saving. But even among the salvageable books, decisions needed to be made. There was only so much Lysol and so many heavy dictionaries to go around. Where should I devote the bulk of my rescue efforts? To put it another way, which book would just be too painful to throw away? Amazon.com was still decades away, so a lost book was really lost. Maybe forever.
At the time my decisions were surprisingly swift and easy. Are You My Mother? never got a backward glance. Danger in Dinosaur Valley by Joan Lowery Nixon, however, was a different story entirely.
Danger in Dinosaur Valley was the quintessential children’s book for boys – beautifully bringing together dinosaurs, baseball and time travel in a fast-paced, funny tale of prehistoric survival. The entire story is seen through the eyes of a curious young Diplodocus and ends with a stirring and violent confrontation with a Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Ah. Remember the days when it was okay to have violence in a picture book?
So… Get me some Lysol and a Merriam Webster, STAT! This book ain’t gonna die on my watch!
The dust jacket never made it, the spine is shot and dots of mold speckle the end pages but my efforts were not in vain. Grandma delivered her line to Alex on cue: “Your daddy read this when he was your age!” True enough, but I also read it at this age, even when my little guy isn’t around. That is a true test of a great picture book.
Danger in Dinosaur Valley has been out of print since the 1970s, but thank heavens we now live in the age of Amazon. Nine copies starting at $1.38? What a deal! Get it. I’ll bet you’ll keep it.
Just promise me you’ll store it on a high shelf.
So let’s open this up to the comment section: What picture book couldn’t you live without?
Hey, Look! A Writer Fellow! 