Just when I could stop worrying about stepping on my son’s Legos, I now hafta worry about stepping on my wife’s gel pen caps.
Ellen has recently discovered the joys of coloring.
This did not come as a surprise. Ellen has terrible eyesight, but she also has a great eye for color. She is not an artist, but she loves to be art-adjacent. There have been tons of news stories about how coloring in adulthood lowers blood pressure, reduces stress, and makes people feel generally groovy. Ellen likes feeling groovy. As soon as I saw the adult coloring fad take hold, I thought to myself, “My wife is gonna be all over this.”
And, about three seconds after I had this thought, Ellen, with great authority, declared, “Coloring is gonna be my New Thing!”
When Ellen decides on a New Thing, she does not go halfway. Almost instantly I found myself stumbling over thousands of gel pens. Did you know that Barnes and Noble has an entire freaking bookcase dedicated to coloring books? Almost all of them are in my house right now.
Coloring is Ellen’s evening ritual. After dinner, she adjourns to the family room, dumps out her bin of supplies, and dives right in. During these excursions she’ll also turn the TV to a cheesy basic cable cop drama but she rarely follows the story–only occasionally glancing up to watch Mariska Hargitay scowl at a child molester. Ellen’s sole focus is on the line drawing in her lap. She is In The Zone.
I can happily report that all of those news stories about the positive effects of coloring are true. Coloring relaxes Ellen. It helps her to decompress after a long day at work. And she adores the vibrant results of her efforts.
Her obsession has been good news for me, too, for a new coloring book is always the perfect gift. This past Christmas I gave Ellen a stocking stuffer coloring book of greeting cards. She loved it and announced her plans to send the soon-to-be colored cards out to all her friends and relations.
She started working on the cards the other day and I’m pleased to announce that I’m the first recipient. On my way out of the bathroom yesterday morning, I discovered this beauty waiting for me right outside the door.
Aw!
And here’s what was written inside:
Long story short, my wife has gone nuts, now.
Do you have a passionate hobby? Tell me about it, why don’cha? Comment your comment in the comments!
Welcome to the latest installment of my sort-of-semi-regular bloggy interview show, Waffles with Writers, where I chat with a working writer over a waffle-based breakfast.
Today’s guest is the lovely and talented Cathy Ballou Mealey, whose debut picture book, When a Tree Grows just hit store shelves. Cathy is also a big fan of wee rodents—and, as most of you know, I am a big fan of big fans of wee rodents.
“Oh, hai! Gimmie peanut.” One of Cathy’s backyard buddies.
Cathy! Welcome! I just put breakfast on the table. How do you like your waffles?
Hi Mike! Thanks for inviting me. I like my waffles with real maple syrup, butter and a side of fresh raspberries please.
Since you live so close to the Marshmallow Fluff factory, I thought you’d prefer a Fluffernutter waffle sandwich. I have all the fixin’s if you change your mind…
I’d never say never, but eating that super-sticky Fluff would make the rest of this interview sound like “Mmwuff fuwmpf phampumf.” Maybe later.
So be it. First off, I love When A Tree Grows! It’s fun and funny and the plot moves forward in cheerfully unexpected directions. How did this story come about? What inspired it?
Thanks! I’m really happy that you found Moose and Squirrel’s antics funny!
A few years ago I was out in the woods, enjoying a nature hike with my family when we heard a distant, creaky Crash! Was it a falling tree? An animal? We froze, listened, and after a long silence, hiked on. I began to wonder: What if that crash had scared a bear or frightened a deer?
Building on that “OR” question, I framed a wacky story with two different possible outcomes, one rather expected and one funny, unexpected outcome. Readers will find that “OR” spotlighted on the bottom corner of each page with a clever curled paper art effect.
When A Tree Grows features a precocious squirrel. I know that you are a pro-rodent (prodent) writer. Were you always a fan of the little critters, or did your rodent fandom arrive later in life?
Definitely a prodent fan for life. My first all-my-own pet was a guinea pig named Brownie. Yep, I came up with that super creative name all by my five-year-old self. He was a charmer. Brownie was followed by a second piggie, Eliza Jane, and a repetitive sequence of hamsters. These days I am befriending the wild squirrels in my yard with tempting peanut snacks so they will pose for my camera.
From left: Cathy, Brownie.
Your story also stars a moose. A moose and a squirrel, eh? Bullwinkle fan?
Of course! And Fractured Fairy Tales cartoons. I also like the visual/logical challenge of pairing two creatures with mismatched proportions. That naturally lends itself to picture book hilarity, much like the GINORMOUS guinea pig in Everybody’s Favorite Book.
Aw! Look at you, plugging my picture book! This is why we’re such good friends. But let’s get back to talking about you. I’m always interested in kid lit writers’ childhoods. What was the young Cathy like?
I am so glad that you are asking me and not my older brother. I was a perfect angel and my parents’ favorite child.
When did you first have the desire to write?
As a kid I loved to write and illustrate greeting cards, so my earliest efforts were short and to the point. I also wrote scripts for Muppet-like puppet shows, assigning the best roles to myself of course. When writing lost its luster as school assignments piled up, I stopped scribbling for pleasure.
As an adult, I drafted my first picture book manuscript for the Cheerios “Spoonfuls of Stories” contest. Even though “Ozzie the Oyster” was definitely not ready for publication, my prize was discovering a passion for the craft of picture book writing
You dedicated the book to your “astute forester” father and “elegant correspondent” mother. This intrigued me. Can you tell me a little bit about your folks?
They are enthusiastic supporters and paid for my first SCBWI membership, so it was a natural choice to dedicate the book to them. My dad, at age 89, still cuts, splits, and stacks the wood used to heat their house. Thus, Moose made a tree-crackingly excellent tribute to Dad’s arboreal skills. My mom attended secretarial school and has the most Palmer-method perfect, beautiful penmanship and shorthand. Like Squirrel, when she sets pen to paper her encouraging messages are irresistible and instantly recognizable.
Cathy’s father. He likes chopping wood apparently.
You have two not-so-little ones. What role do they play in your writing/critiquing process?
My teens are too deeply into teendom to attend well to their mama’s picture book shenanigans. The youngest used to illustrate my stories when she was still at the crayon and marker stage. Alas, recent family contributions tend to be the type familiar to most of us: “You know what you should write your next book about? [Insert idea here.]” To which I always respond, “Great idea. YOU should write that book!”
Thanks so much for coming by, Cathy! One last question: If you could be reincarnated as a rodent, what kind of rodent would you be?
I live with a deep-seated insecurity that I would like to resolve by being reincarnated as a river otter. Doesn’t everyone love a river otter?
Well, sure, but…
OK, that’s not technically a rodent. But I am not always a rule-follower, and I am sure that otters and rodents of all sorts would be good friends. And would share their Fluffernutter waffles. “Mmwuff fuwmpf phampumf!”
Hey, Look! A Writer Fellow! 