Deborah Hopkinson's Blog
October 8, 2021
Blogs
I don't really have time to blog. During the pandemic I've written three books in the DEADLIEST series: Deadliest Diseases Then and Now, Deadliest Hurricanes Then and Now, and Deadliest Fires Then and Now, and am working on some other things too.
I guess most of what I want to say is on the page anyhow.
I guess most of what I want to say is on the page anyhow.
November 8, 2013
Things of the past
When I first was inspired to write The Great Trouble, about Dr. John Snow and the London cholera epidemic of 1854, I fell into the same trap many of the elementary students I speak to at author visits do.
I thought of it as an inspiring story of perseverence and achievement -- and something in the past.
But now each day brings report of new outbreaks. The latest is in Mexico, probably stemming from the Haiti outbreak. In October 2013, a suit was brought against the UN for negligence caused by UN peacekeepers' poor sanitary conditions leading to contamination of drinking water.
When I was writing my book, I thought I was mostly writing about the past. I imagined the scene in which Dr. Snow speaks words attributed to him by his colleague, Henry Whitehead:
"You and I may not live to see the day, and my name may be forgotten when it comes, but the time will arrive when great outbreaks of cholera will be things of the past; and it is the knowledge of the way in which the disease is propagated which will cause them to disappear."
I was wrong to think that my story just about the past, just as Dr. Snow was wrong to think that knowledge alone is enough.
The Great Trouble: A Mystery of London, the Blue Death, and a Boy Called Eel
I thought of it as an inspiring story of perseverence and achievement -- and something in the past.
But now each day brings report of new outbreaks. The latest is in Mexico, probably stemming from the Haiti outbreak. In October 2013, a suit was brought against the UN for negligence caused by UN peacekeepers' poor sanitary conditions leading to contamination of drinking water.
When I was writing my book, I thought I was mostly writing about the past. I imagined the scene in which Dr. Snow speaks words attributed to him by his colleague, Henry Whitehead:
"You and I may not live to see the day, and my name may be forgotten when it comes, but the time will arrive when great outbreaks of cholera will be things of the past; and it is the knowledge of the way in which the disease is propagated which will cause them to disappear."
I was wrong to think that my story just about the past, just as Dr. Snow was wrong to think that knowledge alone is enough.
The Great Trouble: A Mystery of London, the Blue Death, and a Boy Called Eel
September 8, 2013
September 8
Today is September 8. One hundred and fifty nine years ago today, on what was then Broad Street near the Golden Square in London, something remarkable occurred.
Based on evidence given by a local physician named Dr. John Snow, the Board of Governors of St. James Parish voted to remove the handle from the water pump on Broad Street.
In his wonderful book, The Ghost Map, Steven Johnson calls the removal of the handle "a historical turning point" and goes on to say that "for the first time a public institution had made an informed intervention into a cholera outbreak based on a scientifically sound theory of the disease." Cholera was being challenged by "reason, not superstition."
When researching The Great Trouble, my historical fiction book for young readers about the 1854 epidemic, I stood on Broadwick Street in London, and found the red stone that marks the location of the original pump. The remnants of the old peek through on the street today, enough so that it wasn't hard to imagine that moment.
And it's one worth remembering, because cholera hasn't disappeared. One well on a London street was contaminated in 1854, Haiti's largest river was contaminated in 2010. September 8, 1854 is worth remembering.
The Ghost Map: The Story of London's Most Terrifying Epidemic--and How It Changed Science, Cities, and the Modern World
The Great Trouble: A Mystery of London, the Blue Death, and a Boy Called Eel
Based on evidence given by a local physician named Dr. John Snow, the Board of Governors of St. James Parish voted to remove the handle from the water pump on Broad Street.
In his wonderful book, The Ghost Map, Steven Johnson calls the removal of the handle "a historical turning point" and goes on to say that "for the first time a public institution had made an informed intervention into a cholera outbreak based on a scientifically sound theory of the disease." Cholera was being challenged by "reason, not superstition."
When researching The Great Trouble, my historical fiction book for young readers about the 1854 epidemic, I stood on Broadwick Street in London, and found the red stone that marks the location of the original pump. The remnants of the old peek through on the street today, enough so that it wasn't hard to imagine that moment.
And it's one worth remembering, because cholera hasn't disappeared. One well on a London street was contaminated in 1854, Haiti's largest river was contaminated in 2010. September 8, 1854 is worth remembering.
The Ghost Map: The Story of London's Most Terrifying Epidemic--and How It Changed Science, Cities, and the Modern World
The Great Trouble: A Mystery of London, the Blue Death, and a Boy Called Eel
August 13, 2013
Cholera Then - And Now
This week, a Yale Law School study entitled "Peacekeeping without Accountability" confirms that Nepalese troops brought cholera to Haiti in 2010 in the wake of the earthquake.
According to the report, "Sanitation infrastructure at their base in Méyè was haphazardly constructed, and as a result, sewage from the base contaminated the nearby tributary." A month after the troops arrived, the first case of cholera appeared.
The cholera epidemic in Haiti, which researchers say is the largest in the world, sickened more than 600,000 and killed approximately 8,000 people.
Young readers learning about cholera for the first time through historical fiction titles such as The Great Trouble, may well think that such things are in the past, and could not happen in our time. Certainly Dr. John Snow, back in September 1854, hoped that his work would bring an end to outbreaks of this disease.
You can find the Yale report, which calls for the UN to accept responsibility for the outbreak, here:
http://www.law.yale.edu/documents/pdf...
According to the report, "Sanitation infrastructure at their base in Méyè was haphazardly constructed, and as a result, sewage from the base contaminated the nearby tributary." A month after the troops arrived, the first case of cholera appeared.
The cholera epidemic in Haiti, which researchers say is the largest in the world, sickened more than 600,000 and killed approximately 8,000 people.
Young readers learning about cholera for the first time through historical fiction titles such as The Great Trouble, may well think that such things are in the past, and could not happen in our time. Certainly Dr. John Snow, back in September 1854, hoped that his work would bring an end to outbreaks of this disease.
You can find the Yale report, which calls for the UN to accept responsibility for the outbreak, here:
http://www.law.yale.edu/documents/pdf...
July 21, 2013
Summer 1854
It's summer, and I've been thinking a lot about water these days. I watch the shrinking snow pack on Mt. Hood, and hope that we'll have enough for farmers to irrigate crops this year. I bring a large cup of ice water to work each day, and am grateful that I have access to clean water to drink.
I'm also preparing to speak about my new book, The Great Trouble, which will come out in September, and, as it happens, has a lot to do with water
One day in late August of 1854, in the Golden Square neighborhood of London, a baby named Fanny Lewis fell ill. A few days later, a man on the same street (Broad Street, now Broadwick Street), died from cholera. Warning flags were posted, families who had someplace to go fled, and carts began to pick up the bodies of those who had died.
The following Sunday, September 3, a 41-year old physician named John Snow walked from his home to stand on Broad Street and take some water from the pump to test it. he was about to make medical history, proving that cholera was caused not by miasma, or bad air, but by water.
More than 600 people died in the 1854 epidemic. Eventually the cholera was traced back to seepage into the well from the cesspool where Sarah Lewis had rinsed out her baby's diapers.
John Snow convinced local officials to remove the pump handle on September 8 By then, the epidemic was winding down. Sadly, though, Fanny's father, Thomas, a constable, came down with cholera that day. He died on September 19. Had the pump still be in use during his illness, it's likely more people would have died.
My book is historical fiction. But cholera hasn't disappeared from our world. I hope young readers will come away not just with a better understanding of the past, but an appreciation of the work that still needs to be done to provide clean water to all families.
I'm also preparing to speak about my new book, The Great Trouble, which will come out in September, and, as it happens, has a lot to do with water
One day in late August of 1854, in the Golden Square neighborhood of London, a baby named Fanny Lewis fell ill. A few days later, a man on the same street (Broad Street, now Broadwick Street), died from cholera. Warning flags were posted, families who had someplace to go fled, and carts began to pick up the bodies of those who had died.
The following Sunday, September 3, a 41-year old physician named John Snow walked from his home to stand on Broad Street and take some water from the pump to test it. he was about to make medical history, proving that cholera was caused not by miasma, or bad air, but by water.
More than 600 people died in the 1854 epidemic. Eventually the cholera was traced back to seepage into the well from the cesspool where Sarah Lewis had rinsed out her baby's diapers.
John Snow convinced local officials to remove the pump handle on September 8 By then, the epidemic was winding down. Sadly, though, Fanny's father, Thomas, a constable, came down with cholera that day. He died on September 19. Had the pump still be in use during his illness, it's likely more people would have died.
My book is historical fiction. But cholera hasn't disappeared from our world. I hope young readers will come away not just with a better understanding of the past, but an appreciation of the work that still needs to be done to provide clean water to all families.
June 9, 2013
Summer Reading
Last week I visited a school in Vancouver, Washington, my last author visit of the year. It's a wonderful time to go into an elementary school. Even on a wsummery Friday afternoon, the students were attentive, pleasant, and caring to one another. They are a well-oiled learning community by now.
My last group of the day was fifth graders. You might think they'd be antsy, but instead they were especially quiet. They'd been to visit the middle school earlier, and it was almost as if, sitting all together in what was probably their last assembly of the year, they became of just how much was about to change.
Each fifth grade class had special t-shirts in various colors (my favorite was the hot pink, which both boys and girls both seemed to like best too), with all the kids' names on the back. This generation probably won't have to look back at a t-shirt to remember their classmates: they may be Facebook friends their whole lives.
While some things have changed, others haven't, including the sense of excitement and anticipation that summer brings. The students were full of plans and trips -- and yes, books they wanted to read. I encouraged them to join their library summer reading program, and asked them to watch this fall for my new book, The Great Trouble.The Great Trouble: A Mystery of London, the Blue Death, and a Boy Called Eel
Most of all, I found myself nostalgic for what I loved most about summer -- that sense of long, long days with time to read. I am long past fifth grade. I write books, and have a full time job to boot.
But as I drove away I made up my mind: this summer I will get lost in a book.
My last group of the day was fifth graders. You might think they'd be antsy, but instead they were especially quiet. They'd been to visit the middle school earlier, and it was almost as if, sitting all together in what was probably their last assembly of the year, they became of just how much was about to change.
Each fifth grade class had special t-shirts in various colors (my favorite was the hot pink, which both boys and girls both seemed to like best too), with all the kids' names on the back. This generation probably won't have to look back at a t-shirt to remember their classmates: they may be Facebook friends their whole lives.
While some things have changed, others haven't, including the sense of excitement and anticipation that summer brings. The students were full of plans and trips -- and yes, books they wanted to read. I encouraged them to join their library summer reading program, and asked them to watch this fall for my new book, The Great Trouble.The Great Trouble: A Mystery of London, the Blue Death, and a Boy Called Eel
Most of all, I found myself nostalgic for what I loved most about summer -- that sense of long, long days with time to read. I am long past fifth grade. I write books, and have a full time job to boot.
But as I drove away I made up my mind: this summer I will get lost in a book.
April 6, 2013
Titanic's 101st anniversary, April 15, 2013
This year, the 101st anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic falls on a Monday – the same day of the week as the actual event on April 15, 1912. This disaster has fascinated people of all ages for more than a century. And, even without the fictionalized romance in James Cameron’s movie, the event is full of heartbreaking love stories.
The one I come back to again and again is the story of Harvey and Charlotte Collyer, a young couple with an eight-year-old daughter, Marjorie. They had left England and were heading to a new life on an Idaho farm to help improve Charlotte’s health. When the Titanic stopped briefly in Queenstown to pick up more passengers – and drop off any mail passengers had written.
Harvey sent a cheery postcard to his folks:
“My dear Mum and Dad, It don’t seem possible we are out on the briny writing to you. Well dears so far we are having a delightful trip the weather is beautiful and the ship magnificent…like a floating town. …We will post again at New York…lots of love don’t worry about us.”
When the ship struck the iceberg at 11:40 p.m. on Sunday night, April 14, Harvey left the cabin to investigate. Upon coming back to the cabin he told a sleepy Charlotte, “’What do you think…We have struck an iceberg, a big one, but there is no danger, an officer just told me so.’”
But, of course, there was. Later, as the lifeboats were being loaded, Charlotte hung back, clinging to Harvey’s arm. All around her the sailors were shouting, “Women and children first!”
The words “struck utter terror into my heart and now they will ring in my ears until the day I die,” she said later.
A sailor grabbed young Marjorie and threw her into a boat. Charlotte had to be physically torn from her husband. Harvey tried to reassure her: “Go Lotty, for God’s sake be brave and go! I’ll get a seat in another boat.” But, of course, there weren’t other boats.
A week later, from New York, Charlotte wrote to her mother-in-law, “My dear Mother, I don’t know how to write to you or what to say. I feel I shall go mad sometimes but dear as much as my heart aches it aches for you too for he is your son and the best that ever lived…Oh mother how can I live without him…he was so calm…The agony of that night can never be told…I haven’t a thing in the world that was his only his rings. Everything we had went down.”
Charlotte died from tuberculosis two years later, leaving her daughter an orphan.
The one I come back to again and again is the story of Harvey and Charlotte Collyer, a young couple with an eight-year-old daughter, Marjorie. They had left England and were heading to a new life on an Idaho farm to help improve Charlotte’s health. When the Titanic stopped briefly in Queenstown to pick up more passengers – and drop off any mail passengers had written.
Harvey sent a cheery postcard to his folks:
“My dear Mum and Dad, It don’t seem possible we are out on the briny writing to you. Well dears so far we are having a delightful trip the weather is beautiful and the ship magnificent…like a floating town. …We will post again at New York…lots of love don’t worry about us.”
When the ship struck the iceberg at 11:40 p.m. on Sunday night, April 14, Harvey left the cabin to investigate. Upon coming back to the cabin he told a sleepy Charlotte, “’What do you think…We have struck an iceberg, a big one, but there is no danger, an officer just told me so.’”
But, of course, there was. Later, as the lifeboats were being loaded, Charlotte hung back, clinging to Harvey’s arm. All around her the sailors were shouting, “Women and children first!”
The words “struck utter terror into my heart and now they will ring in my ears until the day I die,” she said later.
A sailor grabbed young Marjorie and threw her into a boat. Charlotte had to be physically torn from her husband. Harvey tried to reassure her: “Go Lotty, for God’s sake be brave and go! I’ll get a seat in another boat.” But, of course, there weren’t other boats.
A week later, from New York, Charlotte wrote to her mother-in-law, “My dear Mother, I don’t know how to write to you or what to say. I feel I shall go mad sometimes but dear as much as my heart aches it aches for you too for he is your son and the best that ever lived…Oh mother how can I live without him…he was so calm…The agony of that night can never be told…I haven’t a thing in the world that was his only his rings. Everything we had went down.”
Charlotte died from tuberculosis two years later, leaving her daughter an orphan.
March 16, 2013
Happy 200th Birthday, Dr. John Snow
March 15 marked the 200th anniversary of the birth of Dr. John Snow (1813-1858), known for his pioneering work both in anesthesiology as well as in public health.
If you haven't heard of Dr. John Snow, a great place to start is the UCLA website dedicated to his life and work. Another fascinating resource is Steven Johnson's book, The Ghost Map.
My forthcoming middle grade historical fiction title, The Great Trouble, A Mystery of London, the Blue Death, and a Boy Called Eel, was inspired by Dr. Snow's work during the 1854 cholera epidemic in Soho, when he proved that cholera was caused by water. My book is fiction, but hopefully will give young readers a glimpse of the accomplishments of someone they may never have heard of before.
It was Dr. Snow's fervent hope that his research would lead to the eradication of diseases like cholera. Unfortunately, as we have seen in the aftermath of the earthquake in Haiti, cholera can still wreak havoc on a population.
The Ghost Map
If you haven't heard of Dr. John Snow, a great place to start is the UCLA website dedicated to his life and work. Another fascinating resource is Steven Johnson's book, The Ghost Map.
My forthcoming middle grade historical fiction title, The Great Trouble, A Mystery of London, the Blue Death, and a Boy Called Eel, was inspired by Dr. Snow's work during the 1854 cholera epidemic in Soho, when he proved that cholera was caused by water. My book is fiction, but hopefully will give young readers a glimpse of the accomplishments of someone they may never have heard of before.
It was Dr. Snow's fervent hope that his research would lead to the eradication of diseases like cholera. Unfortunately, as we have seen in the aftermath of the earthquake in Haiti, cholera can still wreak havoc on a population.
The Ghost Map
