Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Yes, I’m chatting with Sarah Stewart and David Small today about their latest picture book, The Quiet Place.

But we’re chatting with coffee mugs in hand over at Kirkus, instead of at the 7-Imp table. Good thing, ’cause I didn’t clean the table up after last night’s heavy partying. (That is so totally just a lame joke. There will be no partying in my future until I get my manuscript edits done. Giving me the ‘ol skunk eye, that manuscript is.)

Here is the Q&A.

David and Sarah discuss the new book; how they collaborate (or, rather, don’t collaborate) together; what spawned this beautiful story; and more.

Next week, I’ll have some spreads from the book, as well as some early sketches from the book from David.

I’m looking forward to that post. Even David’s sketches blow me away.

Until tomorrow …

p.s. I composed this post before my own coffee intake today, and the post title was originally “Sarah Stewart and David Small for Breakfast.” I’m glad I caught that mistake. I think we all need them to stick around—no seven impossible acts of cannibalism before breakfast, please—so that we can experience more of their future books.

As I’ve mentioned previously here at 7-Imp, Candlewick Press is celebrating picture books for one entire year, given their 20th anniversary, and they’re celebrating with a series of videos. Authors, illustrators, bloggers, and other book-lovers have made video tributes to picture books, and Candlewick will be sharing them at this site. (If you missed this video from my co-author, the entertaining Betsy Bird, and the one and only Travis Jonker, then drop everything now and watch it, ’cause it’s fun. They pretty much did it up as right as right can be.)

My video is up today. Here’s the link, or you can watch it above. If you’re going to watch it, you might want to grab a cup of coffee or a pillow, since I may or may not ramble a tiny bit.

Hey, ask a girl to talk about picture books, and that just happens.

EDITED TO ADD: Just found their thus-far video archives. Good stuff. Here it is.

Journey; watercolor, pen & ink.
“She traveled with only a bird for company.”

 
It’s a pleasure to be featuring illustrator Susan Sorrell Hill this morning on the first Sunday of September. FIRST SUNDAY OF SEPTEMBER? Yes, I’m doing a double-take. Are you? How did this shifty month sneak up on us so quickly? I blame the ringleader on the right. (More on him below.)

Well, it’s not that September is inherently shifty. It’s that it’s gotten here so quickly, it seems. It’s even almost officially Fall, y’all. (Here I am saying that which is kinda silly and pointless. Those “where does the time go?” mutterings we all do at one point or another are rather inevitable and unanswerable, but 2012’s really flown by. Don’t you think?)

Where was I? On the first Sunday of each month, as many of my imp readers know, I like to feature the work of student illustrators, debut illustrators, or those otherwise seeking out that elusive thing called publication.

Having studied both textile design and children’s book illustration, Susan—who lives in northern California with her husband, sculptor Ernest Caballero—has for many years now worked in both illustration and the fine arts. She has worked in printmaking, pen and ink, oil painting, silversmithing, ceramics, silk painting, and more. However, watercolor and pencils on fine papers are still her favorites, as she notes at her Etsy site. She has also started writing and creating picture book manuscripts.

As she notes at her site, she can be found most days painting — or thinking about painting. “Lizards, deer, blue jays, jack rabbits and very tall trees (plus the occasional mountain lion, bear or skunk) are my neighbors,” she writes at Etsy. These creatures, she further writes, remind her of the inscrutable mysteries of life.

And one can see in her artwork that she’s trying to capture those mysteries, those fleeting graces.

As you’ll see below, Susan’s work has an imaginative, ethereal quality to it. Her fairy-tale pieces, in particular, are lovingly, elegantly visualized. I thank her for visiting today, and I’ll let her tell us more about herself and her work. Read the rest of this entry �

Today at Kirkus, I write about Aaron Reynolds’ Creepy Carrots!, illustrated by Peter Brown, and Michelle Knudsen’s Big Mean Mike, illustrated by Scott Magoon.

Or: Some cute, fluffy bunnies and some dastardly carrots. Here’s the link.

Next week, as always, I’ll follow up with some art from each book.

Ruth Krauss and Crockett Johnson on their front porch, 1959. Image courtesy of Smithsonian Institution. Reproduced courtesy of the New Haven Register.

 
Last week at Kirkus, an abbreviated version of a Q&A I conducted with author, professor, and blogger Philip Nel was posted over at the Kirkus Book Blog Network. We discussed his latest book, a double biography, titled Crockett Johnson and Ruth Krauss: How an Unlikely Couple Found Love, Dodged the FBI, and Transformed Children’s Literature.

This week here at 7-Imp, I’ve got the interview in its entirety, along with some images from the book. Many thanks to Phil for taking time from his busy schedule to chat with me about this fascinating book.

Let’s get right to it …

Jules: Part of your book’s sub-title is “How an Unlikely Couple…Transformed Children’s Literature.” Given their influential work across multiple disciplines (children’s lit, comics, graphic design, fine arts), what do you think their most enduring contributions are to the field of children’s literature?

Philip: Crockett Johnson’s Harold and the Purple Crayon is the most succinct and profound distillation of imaginative possibility ever created. Understandably, it’s inspired many other children’s writers.

 

Crockett Johnson. Harold “kept his wits and his purple crayon.” From Harold and the Purple Crayon (Harper, 1955). Text copyright © 1955 by Crockett Johnson. Copyright © renewed 1983 by Ruth Krauss. Used by permission of HarperCollins Publishers. Reprinted with the permission of the Estate of Ruth Krauss,
Stewart I. Edelstein, Executor. All Rights Reserved.

 
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Get out the veggies, eggs, and coffee mugs. Illustrator Christian Robinson is visiting for a late-night breakfast. (Why not? Breakfast for dinner! I say.) Given that he’s a vegetarian—though he admits he kinda misses his bacon—he enjoys “a really good veggie omelette in the morning, usually with avocado, tomato, spinach, and cheddar. Pancakes or toast on the side. A tall glass of fresh-squeezed OJ is a must.” This is all more than good with me, though of course we’re going to have it at night, not to mention I’m bringing some strong coffee to the table, too. (Yes, it’s late, but decaf is just wrong all wrong.)

Christian, who is also an animator, will soon see the release (October of this year) of Renée Watson’s Harlem’s Little Blackbird: The Story of Florence Mills, published by Random House. This is the picture book biography of the African-American cabaret singer and dancer, the daughter of former slaves who faced bigotry herself during her rise to fame at the time of the Harlem Renaissance, yet sang of civil rights and ultimately used her fame and talent to give back to the community. (“After her performances,” Watson writes, “Florence disguised herself so no one would recognize her. She went to hospitals to deliver flowers to patients. And she walked along the Thames River giving money and food to beggars.”)

Robinson’s mixed media illustrations convey emotion with a child-like clarity and seeming simplicity; they are a striking accompaniment to Watson’s words. Today, Christian shares art from this book, as well as lots of other art, and I thank him for visiting.

So, let’s get right to it. Read the rest of this entry �

“One day, while we were near the slide, Maya came over to us. She held open her hand to show us the shiny jacks and tiny red ball she’d gotten for her birthday.
It’s a high bouncer, she said. But none of us wanted to play.
So Maya played a game against herself.”
(Click to enlarge and see spread in its entirety)

Just about everywhere you look these days, you see one campaign or another against bullying. Surely, many of these efforts do some good, though what bothers me is the occasional organization with inherently exclusive inclinations (you can belong to this group, as long as you’re not ____ or _____) mounting such campaigns. Personally, I think it all starts and ends with parents teaching their children that we should all treat each other the way we ourselves want to be treated, and that’s about all there is to it. At the same time, I know these things can be complicated.

Nevertheless, what I always want to say in response to the fight-against-bully campaigns is that there are some great picture books in the world that tell straight-up good stories about kindness and empathy. And storytelling is the way we should go about this, yes? No child wants to be lectured, and who doesn’t want to hear an engaging story? Right? Right!

Cue Jacqueline Woodson’s latest picture book, illustrated by E. B. Lewis. It’s called Each Kindness and will be released in October by Nancy Paulsen Books/Penguin. Booklist’s starred review has already described this as a “quiet, intense” book, and they aren’t kidding about the “intense” part. I may or may not have sought the nearest tissue to wipe my goofy ‘ol wet face after having first read it to my own children. Read the rest of this entry �

“The white egret / marks time / on / one / leg / then / the / other.”
(Click to enlarge spread; photograph of egret is by Cheryl Molennor)

 
This morning over at Kirkus, I’ve got a Q&A with author, professor, and blogger Philip Nel, and I ask him about his latest book, Crockett Johnson and Ruth Krauss: How an Unlikely Couple Found Love, Dodged the FBI, and Transformed Children’s Literature. That link is here, and next week I’ll follow that up here at 7-Imp with some images from the book (as well as Philip’s interview in its entirety).

* * *

Last week, I wrote about the National Geographic Book of Animal Poetry, to be released in September and edited by Children’s Poet Laureate J. Patrick Lewis. That column is here. This is such a beautiful book. You don’t want to miss it. Today I’ve got several spreads from it.

Enjoy.

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“Share”
(Click to enlarge and see spread in its entirety)

Remember how just last night I told you I didn’t have any art from Nikki McClure’s beautiful board book, Apple (Abrams Appleseed, August 2012)? Well, I was just testing to see if you were paying attention. *Ahem* (Not really. After that post, I secured some spreads — with thanks to Appleseed.)

So, here they are. Enjoy.

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“…the shadowy blue of the Unknown”

 
After I typed that post title, I wondered why it sounded familiar. Well, that’s ’cause the great Adrienne Furness, whose blog I love just about as much as I love the coffee bean and even MORE than finding ten bucks in my pocket that I didn’t know was there, often checks in with her blog readers to write about board books she is currently diggin’. (“Board Books I Like” she calls those posts, this being her most recent one, I believe.)

Well, here are five I am diggin’ right now, too, and I’m going to get right to it. (And next time I’ll pick a post title that doesn’t sound so copycat. But did I mention I love her blog? That post title is my salute to it.)

And I’m going to start with Ramona Bădescu’s Pomelo Explores Color (originally released last year in France as Pomelo et les couleurs), illustrated by Benjamin Chaud and coming from Enchanted Lion Books in October, because an image from this book opens the post today.

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