Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, and that’s for sure. The morning just started off badly. But, despite my crabby mood and as a devoted children’s librarian myself, I still planned on taking The Girls on our usual weekly library story time trip. I usually drive a bit to one of the Nashville branches; there’s a library down the road from us, but this Nashville branch has a story time schedule that happens to jibe with my wee one’s nap schedule. But, to make my already cantankerous mood this morning worse, this aforementioned wee one was particularly fussy and didn’t nap as long as she normally does, so off we went for the first time to the story time at Smyrna Public Library, just down the road from us, which is scheduled a bit earlier in the day. Miss Thang (yes, we call her that — I know, it’s a tired ‘ol, blah nickname, but it stuck and is often fitting), the least wee of the two, screamed at me for the unanticipated and untimely termination of “Sesame Street,” but, hey, I had five minutes to get to story time. Oh, the toddler wails! Oh, my tetchy, ugly mood! Oh, I needed some more coffee! But we made it out the door, me still scowling, I’m sure.

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Here’s the thing: I work as a children’s librarian, but I love to read adult lit too. But since I don’t have a lot of exposure to the review journals for adult books, I don’t always hear about all the cool new grown-up books coming out. In some ways this is kind of sad, and I wish I could make more time to peruse LJ and PW to see what’s happening on the other side of the library. But sometimes it results in what I like to call “happy accidents” (a phrase I borrowed from Bob Ross): I’ll come across an interesting-looking book, completely by chance, and get to read it with absolutely no idea what it’s about or what other people have said about it. The Driftless Area by Tom Drury was just such an accident, and I’m quite happy about it.

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I always wanted to read this book, published in 2002. But I never got around to it. I finally picked it up a week or so ago, knowing that the five-year anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks was looming. And now it’s just one day away. I can still hardly believe it ever even happened.

911: The Book of Help is sub-titled, Authors Respond to the Tragedy. And that’s just what it is — a collection of twenty-two essays, poems, and short fiction by authors who typically write for young adults with drawings by Chris Raschka (done on the day of the attacks as the second tower fell), all created in response to the terrorist attacks. Edited by Michael Cart with Marc Aronson and Marianne Carus, a portion of the book’s proceeds were given to The Families of Freedom Scholarship Fund. All of the authors and Raschka donated their work. The title of the book makes a seemingly obvious connection between the date of the attacks to the emergency assistance phone number one uses to call for help. (But this terrible irony of the attacks is something that doesn’t always occur to folks right away). The book is divided into four sections: Healing; Searching for History; Asking Why? Why? Why?; and Reacting and Recovering.

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I could just mention this wonderful book in the picture-books-about-music thread that is going in the comments section of the “Never leave your cat alone” post. A few of us started discussing picture books about jazz, but Eisha also mentioned picture books about the blues, opera, and salsa. So, I could just throw in another comment about Honky-Tonk Heroes & Hillbilly Angels: The Pioneers of Country & Western Music (2006), but then you might not see it. And this is one swingin’ book, ya’ll, that you won’t wanna miss. And, yes, the title of my post is rather lame, as I’m trying to work in a Hank Williams lyric. Humor me here.

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I love it when contemporary authors/playwrights/screenwriters/etc. play with fairy tales, as long as it’s done well. There are so many great picture book adaptations, novel adaptations, variations on a theme, stage and screen adaptations, fractured fairy tales, etc. I wish I could live multiple parallel lives at once, and one of the things I’d do is study to become a fairy tale scholar of sorts. I could start out as Maria Tatar’s lackey. A librarian can dream.

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… and no, I’m not talking about myself, cheeky. But I admit that each of these books struck a personal chord with me. I was always the shortest girl in my class, and as such I think I got an extra serving of the sort of pawing and cooing and manhandling that little kids tend to get from bigger people. Even from other kids my age, who seemed to think it was neat that they could pick me up as easily as their baby siblings. Well, almost as easily – I called a halt to it around 4th grade after being dropped on the four-square court one too many times.

The point is, it’s not easy being small. You’re always having to ask for someone’s help to reach something, or to carry stuff. And no one takes you seriously. These books speak to that aspect of childhood, and find something to celebrate in smallness.

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I finished a book today that I’ve been trying to read, on and off, for about a year. A friend at work recommended it to me last year, and unfortunately the first time I started it coincided with my Collection Development class, which didn’t leave a lot of time for recreational reading. Then there was my Cataloging class, a huge bibliography I had to help compile for my library’s Summer Reading Program, etc…. and somehow this one kept being shoved to the bottom of the pile. But I finally got to page 487 today, and even though it’s not the sort of book I usually read, I am glad I gave it a chance.

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I heard it’s Charlie Parker’s birthday, so here’s a quick shout-out for Chris Raschka’s wonderful picture book Charlie Parker Played Be Bop (1992). The text has an infectious rhythm, and Raschka’s energetic, vivacious illustrations amaze, as usual (and Raschka is our most recent Caldecott Award winner); it’s jazz on the pages of a book (with a recurring line being the title of this post). Your favorite toddler will likely enjoy it, too, even if not familiar with jazz. I promise. But do yourself a favor, too, and read this one. Happy birthday, Charlie, who played that mess just like it didn’t mean a thing, ya’ll. I think I’ll listen to some jazz today in honor . . .

(Whew. See, I really can write a short post) . . .

It must be hard, in some ways, to be Lois Lowry or any other insanely talented writer who has written a novel that is considered a modern classic. When you read one of their subsequent works, hard as you try, that pesky classic lingers in your mind and you compare it to the title you’re currently reading. Lots of reviews of Lowry’s work compare what she’s written to The Giver — a superb piece of writing, indeed. I dare say that The Giver became the backdrop against which we compare other contemporary science fiction books in the realm of children’s literature (but that is arguable; feel free to argue). Nevertheless, as Eisha put it when I told her I was reading Lowry’s latest, you can’t crank out The Giver every time, nor should you be expected to. So, let’s look at the merits of Lowry’s Gossamer, published in April of this year, in its own singular light.

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Hey. So, I just finally watched Shopgirl, that film based on Steve Martin’s novella of the same name. And I know this is “A Blog About Books,” but this is the first time I’ve ever experienced this and I think it’s worth noting: I liked the movie BETTER than the book!

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