Paul Acampora's Blog, page 2

From the mailbag…

I don't make it a habit to share fan mail, but this is just too awesome to keep to myself…

—– MESSAGE —–

From: Abbey Jones

To: Paul Acampora

Subject: Defining Dulcie.

Dear Mr. Acampora,

Hello! My name is Abbey, and I recently finished your book "Defining Dulcie." It was a magnificent short read, and I enjoyed it very much. I thought it had an amazing plot line, and I could visualize the setting and characters very well. I am doing a project involving six word memoirs between Dulcie and her mother. However, I was telling my Language Arts teacher about your book, and she is having me email you for some clarifications of specific details of your book.

On page six, Dulcie is remembering a quote from her father. He said that "As far as jones, it's a slag for avid desire or burning hunger. It's also the most common, ordinary, and uninteresting name in America." I would like to know why you say this, because my last name is Jones. My heart broke a little when I read this sentence so early in the book.

My Language Arts teacher, fellow students, and I are also very concerned about a detail you gave in Chapter 12 when Dulcie meets Sister Clare in Maria Stein, Ohio. On page 83, Dulcie states that "If I ever have children, they will not go to public school in Ohio." I have lived in Ohio my entire life, and plan on staying here for quite awhile. Also, we only live a few counties away from Maria Stein. It's Possible Dulcie drove through my town while going back home.

Please don't think I didn't like your book, Mr. Acampora. I liked it very much. It had an amazing plot line and it was hard for me to put it down. However, I am slightly worried about the fact that my last name is "common, ordinary, and uninteresting," and that Ohio is not worthy of Dulcie and her children. If you could tell me why you put these opinions in your book and clarify this information, I might understand Dulcie and Co. better. Thank you!

Love,

Abbey JONES.

(:

—– REPLY —–

From: Paul Acampora

To: Abbey Jones

Subject: Re: Defining Dulcie.

Dear Abbey,

Thank you for your really kind note. I'm glad you enjoyed Defining Dulcie. I'll do my best to answer your questions satisfactorily. Here goes…

Regarding Jones… I wanted to create a character who was lovable and remarkable and also normal. I hoped that her name would capture all those attributes. Dulcie means sweet. Morrigan is a Celtic goddess/queen. And then there is Jones.

Jones is a very common name, which I hope indicated some normalness. But it's also connected with lots of really interesting people and places and stories. When I picked Dulcie's last name, I was thinking about folk heroes (Casey Jones) and cartoons (Chuck Jones) and a Counting Crows song called "Mr. Jones" which, according to the band's lead singer is "… about all the dreams and all the things that make you want to… (do) whatever it is that seizes your heart." So Jones is excellent and perfect.

The important piece of the Jones sentence on page six is the part about avid desire and burning hunger. These are Dulcie's driving forces. She is willing to go to great lengths for the people and places that she loves and for things that she thinks are right. At the same time, she's worried that she is not very special at all. SHE IS WRONG. In some ways, she is not a very reliable narrator because she doesn't see always see herself very clearly. In retrospect, learning to see herself more clearly is an important part of Dulcie's story/journey. I wasn't thinking about that when I wrote it, but I think it makes sense now. Personally, I think that it is not uncommon for teenagers – especially girls – to have difficulty seeing what's special and good in themselves.

As far as Ohio… Dulcie's remark is really directed at the unhelpful teenage gas station boy she meets a few pages earlier. Ohio is awesome, and Maria Stein might be her most important stop (unless she stopped in your town, that is!). Also her snarky tone comes at a point in the story when she is very tired and cranky. Speaking as the dad of a high school student, it's been my experience that tired and cranky teenagers can get that way sometimes.

It's also important to remember that the opinions expressed in a book are not necessarily the author's. In this book, those opinions belong to Dulcie, whose world view is shaped by her own knowledge, limits, relationships, personality and experiences. Even though I "made" her, she's a lot different than me.

So to sum up: Jones is an excellent name. Ohio is awesome. And I sincerely hope this helps your heart mend. Good luck with your school project!

Best wishes,

Paul Acampora

PS If your email is a good example of your writing abilities, then I look forward to reading books by you one day! Thanks again.

A very Kate DiCamillo story…

A few years ago, Ellen Major, owner of the lovely Booktenders' Secret Garden Children's Bookstore in Doylestown PA, phoned me in a panic. It was late on a Friday afternoon. Kate DiCamillo was coming to her store that night. Ellen was worried. She was sure that only 3 or 6 people were going to show up for the event, and she really really didn't want her store to be empty for a big name author. She asked me to come. Unfortunately, I was extremely sick. But Ellen has been very kind to me, and I very much appreciate it. My wife and kids had other obligations that night so I took twice the recommended dose of three kinds of different cold and flu medications then drove myself to Doylestown.

When I arrived, there were about two hundred people, mostly kids, in a shop that comfortably holds 25. Ellen must have made a lot of phone calls that afternoon. It was a sleety, slushy, freezing winter night so everybody had on wet snow clothes. The temperature in the store shot up to a thousand degrees. I remember humidity dripping down the windows like we were inside a car wash. I think my fever must have spiked. Rob and Lisa Papp, who are friends and local author/illustrators (they're the ones who put me into Stratego and turned my kids into American Girl characters), propped me up in a corner where I tried to blow my nose into a mitten as quietly as possible while alternating between burning up and freezing to death.

I can barely remember the evening except, near the end, Ellen saw me against the back wall. She knows how much I love Kate DiCamillo's books. (I actually outline her sentences and paragraphs and chapters to see if I can figure out how they work. I think she has a magical way of weaving words and emotions together that makes her stories sing.) Ellen dragged me into this tiny closet-sized stockroom at the back of her store where Kate was sitting behind a folding card table with a bottle of water. She looked a little disheveled and a bit confused. She'd just signed a gazillion books, and I think this might have been her 47th visit on a hundred-stop cross-country tour. She probably didn't even know what time zone she was in. Ellen said something like: THIS IS PAUL. THERE ARE A HUNDRED PEOPLE IN LINE AT THE REGISTER. TALK AMONGST YOURSELVES. I'VE GOT TO GO! She rushed off and closed the closet door behind her.

I think Kate DiCamillo and I were in the closet together for about 15 minutes. Here is how I remember our conversation:

Me: Hi.

Her: Hi.

Me: I love your work.

Her: Thank you.

Me:…

Her: Are you okay?

Me (trying not to pass out): …

Her (looking like she's about to pass out): …

Me: Are you okay?

Her:…

Me:…

Her: Actually, I'm kind of missing home.

Me: Honestly, I'm not in a very good place right now.

Her (and she reached across the card table and patted me on the hand when she said this): You don't have to be in a good place.

Me:…

Her:…

Me: That was a very Kate DiCamilo thing to say.

Her: That's because I am Kate DiCamillo.

Me: Right.

Her…

Me: Okay. Bye.

And then I left her in the closet. I even closed the door behind me!!

This might all be a virus and medication-induced hallucination, but I'm pretty sure that it's at least 90% true because even when I'm healthy, I'm not a good visitor for celebrities. See for yourself: http://paulacampora.com/blog/2006/03/01/why-i-dont-write-much-fiction-about-the-pope/

Good writing (PLUS dogs!)

A few sentences in this NYTimes piece about therapy dogs were so good that they just about made me stop breathing. I copied a few of my favorite lines from the piece and pasted them below. I'll print them out later and tape them into my notebook.

Some people collect spoons. Some people collect postcards. I collect good sentences.

Added bonus: Here's a photo of our dog, Skipper. You might recognize him if you've read  Rachel Spinelli Punched Me in the Face!

From "Wonder Dog" by Melissa Fay Greene (New York Times 2/2/12):

"How could I take care of a dog?…I can't even take care of myself."

"All I could see ahead of me was a long, slow death. I started stockpiling morphine."

"Karen," the nurse said, "get out of this bed, and let's go get you a puppy."

Cool dog. Lucky kid.

She wore him down. He loved her, trusted her judgment and knew she wasn't going to give up.

You've got a kid who's picking his nose? The dog isn't thinking, That is gross. He's thinking, Save one for me!

Chancer didn't know what he was missing. But his trainers knew. "Chancer," Dulebohn says, "really needed a boy."

The big dog lies on top of the boy he loves, and seals him off from the dizzying and incomprehensible world for a while.

Chancer has not cured Iyal.

Beyond cognitive ability or disability, beyond predictions of a bright future or a dismal one, on a field of grass and hard-packed dirt, between the playground and the baseball diamond, you can see them sometimes, the two of them, running, laughing their heads off, sharing a moment of enormous happiness, just a boy and his dog.

Parent Appreciation

When I dropped my son off at school this morning, a pretty teenage girl skipped up to the truck.  She approached the driver's side door so I rolled down my window. I expected to be offered some kind of opportunity to participate in yet another fundraiser. I hadn't even figured out how much money was in my wallet before the girl pushed a chocolate donut toward me. "Here you go!" she said.

"Thanks," I said. "I don't really need that."

"But it's parent appreciation day!" She was so cute it hurt to look at her.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

The girl stood on her tiptoes because the truck sits high off the ground. "Parent appreciation day!" she said again. "We really do appreciate you."

I turned and looked at my son. He shrugged. "We do."

The donut was good too.

Geeky Reading Scorecards

I am terrible at remembering what I've read (and what I hope to read) in any organized fashion so I started jotting down lists on GoodReads last year. Apparently I told my GoodReads friends that I read exactly 50 books during 2011. Just for fun, I threw my lists into Excel and made some "scorecards" to see what my shelf would contain if I lined all those books up by category. See below and then infer what you want about me by my geeky reading scorecards. Actually, the fact that I make my own reading scorecards probably says as much about me as the categories…



Still thinking about these scorecards… if I lived in Oregon, I'd be raw material for Portlandia.

Me, Dumbo & Stolen Photographs

During the holidays, I visit my parents and steal old pictures when they're not looking. Here are a couple of my favorites from the most recent batch.

My grandfather and I visiting Dumbo the Elephant (around 1967):

Here's a close-up of Dumbo:

I know this is Dumbo because I wrote it down on the back of the photograph:

Even then with the writing…

A good night for pumpkins

Writers, readers & new friends at Memorial Middle School (Middlefield, CT)

I just finished two great days leading writing workshops for sixth graders at Memorial Middle School in Middlefield, Connecticut. I can honestly say that I did not want to leave! The faculty, staff, families and, most of all, the students, were kind, welcoming, lively, talented, daring and a whole lot of fun. In short, they were amazing! For me, a school visit is a success if I can convince two or three students to try writing with abandon. And then — and this is the scary party — I hope that they will share their work out loud with me and with their classmates.

I met with over a hundred students in Middlefield. I think every single one of them threw themselves into the work. From there, they couldn't wait to share the characters and scenes and stories they'd poured onto their pages.

Memorial Middle School is filled with passionate readers and fantastic writers. Clearly, these students are surrounded by gifted teachers, a fantastic librarian and an excellent principal. If you want to see a great public school in action, this is a place to visit. Thanks to all my new friends in Middlefield!

A good day for kite flying

Where do my ideas come from? Clue: Do you want fries with that?

[image error]A few Saturdays ago, circumstances put me inside a late night McDonalds where I was surrounded by several groups of teenage girls. They'd spent the earlier part of the evening at their high school homecoming dance. They were still dressed up in sequins and fancy hair, but they'd traded high heels and dates for ballet slippers and fries with friends. I sipped black coffee in a corner booth and jotted down pieces of their conversations into my notebook. I rarely use stuff like this exactly as I find it. But later I will try to create scenes that capture a little bit of the real life good humor, goofy energy, manic intimacies and tender sweetness between friends. Here are a few overheard snippets:

"The thing about her is that she doesn't want to be one of those people who is, you know, 'like that.' But the thing is, she's one of those people who is, you know, 'like that.'"

"Okay, guys. We've been here for twenty five minutes. It's time to start having fun."

"EVERYBODY! RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU'RE HAVING YOUR PERIOD!"

–How many times are you going to say "No Shit?"

–A lot.

–No shit.

–You know why I like you? It's because you're really easy to talk to. It's like we're on the same wavelength. You totally get me. And I totally appreciate that. Do you know what I mean? You're just so great. And you always know exactly what to say. I mean you totally say the exact right thing every time.

–You are such a dork.

–See what I mean?

–Dork. Dork. Dork. Did you bring any money?

"ATTENTION! ALL McDONALDS PEOPLE. WE ARE LEAVING THE BUILDING! GOOD NIGHT!"

I admit that that I feel a little guilty when I'm copying people's conversations down. I'm half spy and half David Attenborough. But honestly, I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.