The reviews for Sarah Gives Thanks are in! And they’re good!
I approve.
Here’s one from School Library Journal:
“More of a biography about Sarah Josepha Hale than a holiday book, this well-researched, engaging read-aloud offers youngsters a glimpse into the lives of women and families in 19th-century America as well as to the history of how Thanksgiving became a national holiday.”
And Kirkus gave me a Starred Review!
“Amusing and perfectly chosen anecdotes highlight the qualities that made Hale such a success—curiosity, thirst for knowledge and determination… Readers will look forward to more from this talented author, who has penned a perfectly paced, rousing biography.”
I mean, woah.
To celebrate this news, I shall doodle pictures of wild animals.
Yes, yes, I know. I don’t celebrate like normal people.
On a related note, the response to last week’s Sarah Gives Thanks book giveaway was overwhelming! More than 20 people responded and the drawing is on!
Next week the winner will be announced. Good luck!
My new business cards came in. Well, they’re not business cards, exactly; I was going for the genteel feel of calling cards.
“We had good fun, didn’t we?” I’ll say in my best British accent as I reach into my breast pocket. “Allow me to give you a small memento of our time together. I ask for nothing, nothing at all. I just hope that we will be able to rekindle what we have here at a later date. Good day, sir-or-madam, my newfound friend!”
Alright, to be honest, the cards are for business. I’ll be giving them out to teachers, librarians, bookstore managers, and anyone else who may or may not have a scintilla of interest in my upcoming book, Sarah Gives Thanks.
My book.
The book will be out on September 1, and I must admit that the looming release date has gotten me a little tense.
I won’t bore you with the particulars of my marketing plan – even if I had particulars, which I most certainly don’t. I am happy to report, however, that the lovely marketing person at Albert Whitman and Company doesn’t seem too troubled by my antics thus far – so I suppose I am stumbling in the right direction.
One sort-of-marketing thing I thought would be fun would be to interview my illustrator and new buddy, David Gardner, on this blog. I plan to post the interview after the book comes out in September.
I want to ask David questions that are odd, eccentric, fun, and/or off-kilter.
I would love it if you folks might provide these questions. I’ll make the effort worth your while, of course, with…
A CONTEST!
In the comments section below, please ask – and answer – a silly question that you would like me to ask David. The best 10 questions (if there are 10, oh, please, people, let there be at least 10) will be asked in the interview. You will, of course, get full credit for your question when the interview is posted, with a link back to your blog, if you have one.
Now here’s the contest part. If at least 20 commenters suggest questions, they will all be entered in a random drawing to receive a free, signed, hardcover copy of Sarah Gives Thanks!
Yes, Little Sally, it’s true!
But wait, there’s more! Actually, there isn’t any more. But I think that’s plenty, don’t you?
So tell your friends to stop by this blog and post a question, because if I only get 19 questions, nobody’s gettin’ a book – and the lovely marketing person at Albert Whitman will think I’m really bad at this book promotion nonsense.
The deadline is Sunday, July 29. So start asking! And don’t forget: to be eligible for the drawing, you can’t just ask a silly question, you have to answer it too.
Good luck!
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UPDATE (July 24): Thanks to all who have entered so far! We don’t have 20 yet, but we’re getting there. Based on a few of the responses I’ve received, I wanted to make a little clarification: When you answer your question, you are not expected to telepathically channel David Gardner and speak in his voice. ‘Cause, well, he can do that. Answer your question as YOU.
Just think of it as a nice little opportunity to interview yourself. Good luck!
If you’re one of those charming, organized folks who prefers to read “Part Ones” before “Part Twos,” have no fear. My first burro post is right here. Enjoy!
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My wife, Ellen, thinks she is The Burro Whisperer. She came to this conclusion largely because of Burrito, a denizen of an area petting zoo, who trots over to her every time she shows up and grunts with delight when she pets his nose.
Need more evidence? Fine. She also sleeps with a stuffed Eeyore. Case closed.
The problem with Ellen’s reasoning is that Burrito will trot over to anyone for nose pets and, well, Eeyore is a doll.
But that’s neither here nor there. When we visit burros that are not Burrito, Ellen (who, it should be said, is smarter than me on most other matters) has a difficult time grasping that all burros are not exactly the same.
This was brought into focus on a recent trip to Intercourse, Pennsylvania (which is just one of the many towns in Lancaster County with a sort-of-pervy name), at a place called Kitchen Kettle Village (which is a tourist shopping Mecca that sells everything you could ever possibly want – provided that everything you want is jam).
Kitchen Kettle Village also has a tiny petting zoo that no one ever visits. Petting animals, I guess, distracts from all of that jam-buying.
I kid you not.
The zoo has a burro, so Ellen was on cloud nine. She leaned over the fence to get his attention. She “hello-ed” and knocked on the split rail fence posts.
Mr. Burro, however, wanted none of this. He sat in the center of his pen and made a pretty good show of ignoring her. He positioned his ample burro butt in her direction and stared at a wall. The only thing he could’ve done to make his wishes more obvious was to bury his nose behind a newspaper.
Ellen, however, wasn’t getting the message. She redoubled her efforts, knocking louder and faster and switching from “hellos” to more urgent “yoo-hoos.” Alex, our six-year-old, and I were too busy introducing ourselves to a group of personable goats to notice what Ellen was doing at first, but her doggedness soon became hard to ignore.
Alex played the role of diplomat. “Momma,” he said. “I don’t think he wants to be pet.”
I was less diplomatic. “Geeze, Ellen. Knock it off. Can’t you see he wants to be left alone?”
But then, as if to prove me wrong, Mr. Burro stood up, stretched a moment, and sauntered toward her.
Ellen was flush with triumph. She shot me a look. I was familiar with this look. It was a look that said, “See? You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. As usual. But go ahead and keep talking. No, no, go ahead. I’m listening. I’ll listen while I pet this burro that doesn’t want to be pet.”
The burro approached the fence. He batted his eyelashes. Ellen was smitten. It looked like they were going to be fast friends.
Then, as Ellen reached into the pen to pet his nose, Mr. Burro lunged out in an attempt to bite hers off.
I’m pleased to report that Ellen has good reflexes. She lurched away just in time and her nose is where it’s always been. Which is good, to say the least.
You shoulda seen the look on your face when I tried to bite ya. Wooo!
What’s also good is that, for the second time in my life, a burro had gotten my creative juices flowing. After a lot of laughs and almost as many rewrites, this past week I sent out a new (Ellen-approved) picture book manuscript that is “inspired by actual events.” Momma No-Nose is the touching story of a mother who, with the help of an artistic son and a Play-Doh proboscis, learns to live life again after a startling petting zoo assault.
There are two lessons to be taken from this story, I think. The first is don’t pester the burros; when their dander is up they can be ruthless killing machines.
The second and far more important lesson is, inspiration is everywhere. So go out and get some!
Do you have an inspiration story you’d like to share? Then write me a comment! I do so love your comments.
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Oh, and if you’re one of those devil-may-care nonconformist folks who prefers to read “Part Twos” before “Part Ones,” you’re in luck. My first burro post is right here. Enjoy!
Hey, Look! A Writer Fellow! 