Kate DiCamillo's Blog, page 32

Somewhere (I have looked and looked and I can not find it) there is a picture of...

Somewhere (I have looked and looked and I can not find it) there is a picture of me that was taken when I was seven years old. In the photo, I am wearing a pair of red shorts and I have on red tennis shoes and I am holding on to the tail of a gigantic chipmunk. The picture was taken at Walt Disney World in 1970. I wanted to get a hug from the chipmunk. I wanted to get my picture taken with the chipmunk. But I was too shy to ask for those things. Keeping hold of the tail of the chipmunk was th...

I was at a friend’s cabin over the weekend and I slept later than I normally sle...

I was at a friend’s cabin over the weekend and I slept later than I normally sleep and woke to the sound of the voices of people I love laughing and talking. There was the smell of coffee; there was the crackle of wood burning in the fireplace. I went back to sleep and dreamed about my mother’s waffle iron. Somehow, the waffle iron had turned into a spaceship and we were all on it and flying toward some distant, glowing planet.
When I woke up again, the sun was shining into my room. I lay th...

In the mailbag: a pair of toast-with-butter socks from Mary Greene in New York....

In the mailbag: a pair of toast-with-butter socks from Mary Greene in New York.
I have to say that these socks seem warmer than your average sock.
Or maybe what is keeping me warm is being connected to people who care about pigs who like toast, and mice who love princesses, and dogs who find homes.
In any case, I feel warm. I feel seen.
And I thank you.

I was out walking Henry yesterday when I heard someone practicing “Let it Be” on...

I was out walking Henry yesterday when I heard someone practicing “Let it Be” on the piano. Whoever this person was, they would start and play for a while and then stop and begin over again.
It was cloudy, but I was standing on a street that is lined with trees whose leaves are the most outrageous yellow. The effect, overall, was like something out of a fairy tale, a golden tunnel leading to a golden kingdom.
Standing there, looking into the brilliant distance and listening to this stranger...

In the dream, I was younger and living in a ranch style house that was carpeted...

In the dream, I was younger and living in a ranch style house that was carpeted in brown shag. It was wintertime. A friend came to visit. He took off his snow boots and left them on the kitchen floor.
I thought: I will try these on.
I put the left snow boot on and I bounced through the ranch house, down into the sunken living room, up into the bedrooms, over the brown shag carpet.
I bounced higher and higher. I started to flap my arms.
I thought: where is that other boot? If I put that on...

The letter begins this way, “Dear Kate, I love every story that you write.” And...

The letter begins this way, “Dear Kate, I love every story that you write.” And ends this way: “P.S. Please write back!”
The letter writer’s name is Joanna, but the return address stamp on the envelope is too blurred for me to decipher.
So, Joanna I know this is a long shot, but this is me writing you back. I loved your letter. I am so glad that you liked my little mouse. And I am grateful to have you as a reader.
Your friend,
Kate

Answers to your questions! Hannah Boutilier Hey Kate! I a...

Answers to your questions!
Hannah Boutilier Hey Kate! I absoutely love your stories, your beautiful writing, and your books. My question for you is this-as a writer, have you ever wanted to give up? How did you deal with those feelings and fight them...

Last week, I had an early morning baby-sitting gig. Max (nine years old) was dr...

Last week, I had an early morning baby-sitting gig. Max (nine years old) was dropped off at my house at 5:45 a.m. I had told him in advance that I would still be working at that hour and so he sat in the living room and entertained himself until I came out and told him I was done.
“Can I see your office?” he said.
“Sure,” I told him. “But there’s not much to see.”
He followed me back to the office. He looked at the desk and the shelves and the walls.
I said, “This is what I do, Max. I sit her...

It is dark, now, in the early mornings when I get up to write. And with the win...

It is dark, now, in the early mornings when I get up to write. And with the windows open, I can hear a lone cricket sing.
He is singing to someone, calling out to them.
That is what I am doing here, too.
I chirp in the early morning dark.
I call out to you.

From the Candlewick team: If you have questions for Kate about her books, her wr...

From the Candlewick team: If you have questions for Kate about her books, her writing process, or anything, please post them as a comment to this post by Sunday evening. Look for answers from Kate next week!