Betsy Bird's Blog, page 315

Video Thursday: Because Rules Are Meant to Be Broken

They asked me to do some promotional videos for my book.

I came up with these instead.  Life is too short not to have your legs eaten by legwarmers.  I’m inclined to name them The Electric Blue Boogaloo.

Part One:

Part Two:

Part Three:

Part Four:

I have fun.

Got Me a Book. Got Me a Website. Got Me a Giant Dance Party.

Okay, folks.  This is where we start the self-promotion machine.  I’m looking at it right now and it’s rusty and corroded and clearly falling apart at the seams.  Nonetheless, I shall grab my proverbial gas can, fill the tank, pull the cord, let ‘er rip, and see where she takes me.

So first and foremost, check this puppy out: www.betsybirdbooks.com

It’s me very own website!  Still in a transition phase admittedly (I’m putting the final touches on some promotional videos that’ll appear later this week) but a lot of fun.  Note the lovely tabs that aid in ease of movement.  Note the links to my Reviews, which happen to include this fan-freakin’-tastic one from Bookie Woogie.  Seriously, it’s kind of depressing that my best review had to come out right now.  Everything after this point will be downhill (though you are more than welcome to attempt to prove me wrong on this point).

Note too the fact that www.betsybird.com was already taken by a Memphis painter.  Alas that I have such a potentially common name.

Lest you think I have mad website building skills, full credit for my site goes out to my sister Kate.  Kate slaved relentlessly on this, which is why it’s as lovely as it is.  Thank you, sis!

It’s funny to think that I’d be so new to this brave new world of marketing myself, but honestly things change so quickly these days that it can be hard to catch up.  For example, I’ve made a Pinterest page for my book (it’s rather fun, I have to admit), and I’ve created a Lesson Plan for the book.  Currently I’m working on making the Lesson Plan a little more aligned with the Core Curriculum (it’s fortunate that I can speak the lingo).

So what does that leave?

Um….

Party party parties!

Yes, I’m going to start doing appearances.  Very very silly appearances.  Appearances that are well worth viewing, if I do say so myself (oh, storytime skills don’t fail me now).

My very first appearance will be this Saturday (oh me, oh my) at the Children’s Center at 42nd Street in the main branch of NYPL at 11:30 a.m.  There will be a reading.  There will be dancing.  There will be books for sale.  There will be boots that looked like I took the pelts of chinchillas and died them in electric blue Kool-Aid.  Oh, it shall be a good time!

And to be fair to Brooklyn, the very next day on this Sunday I will be appearing at Powerhouse Arena at 11:30 a.m.  So if you miss one appearance you can attend another.  And if it seems as though you’ve missed both?  I’ll be making stops in Chicago, Grand Rapids, and Kalamazoo (as well as more in Brooklyn) this months.  See my Events for more details.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Review of the Day: No Fits, Nilson! by Zachariah Ohora

No Fits, Nilson!

By Zachariah Ohora

Dial (an imprint of Penguin)

$16.99

ISBN: 978-0-8037-3852-2

Ages 3-7

On shelves June 13th

The small child is a frightening beast. A truly terrifying creature that can level the most powerful adult with the mere pitch of their fury laden screams. As a children’s librarian I used to tell my husband that mine was one of the few jobs I knew where an average day was punctuated by human sobs and screams of terror, misery, and fury. What then is the reasoning behind the idea that you should read a child a book about a fellow kiddo having a meltdown? Well, kids can get a lot out of that kind of identification. They can put themselves into the role of the parent, to a certain extent. Or maybe it’s just good old schadenfreude. Better her than me, eh? Whatever the reasoning, meltdowns make for good picture book fodder. Add in a giant blue gorilla with a penchant for wristwear and you’ve got yourself a picture book as fine as fish hair. A treat to eye and ear alike, Ohora is truly coming into his own with a book that truly has universal appeal. And a gorilla. But I repeat myself.

Amelia and Nilson are inseparable. They play together, eat together, and with some exceptions (Nilson is afraid of water so no baths) they’re never out of one another’s sight. The fact that Amelia is a little girl and Nilson a gigantic blue gorilla? Not an issue. What is an issue is the fact that Nilson has a terribly short fuse. Good thing Amelia knows exactly what to do to calm him down. Don’t want to go with mom to do chores? Amelia calls them adventures instead. Nilson’s getting testy waiting in line at the post office? Amelia hands him her froggy purse. It’s the moment that Nilson gets the the last banana ice cream that Amelia’s composure finally breaks down. Now she’s the one who’s upset. Fortunately, Nilson knows the perfect way to make everything right again.

When we think of the great tantrum picture books out there, the mind immediately leaps to the be all and end all of fits, When Sophie Gets Angry Really Really Angry by Molly Bang. That book sort of set the standards for meltdown lit. It’s simple, it gets to the point, it teaches colors (though that’s more a nice bonus rather than anything else). After Sophie authors tried to come up with different unique takes on a common occurrence. Rosemary Wells came up with Miracle Melts Down, Robie Harris dared to discuss the unmentionable in The Day Leo Said “I Hate You “. And who could forget David Elliott’s truly terrifying Finn Throws a Fit? In the end, this book is almost an older version of Knuffle Bunny by Mo Willems (it involves preschooler fits rather than toddler fits, which as any parent will tell you are a different beast entirely). But part of what I like most about No Fits, Nilson! is that it sort of harkens back to the early days of Sophie. Ohora makes a metaphor out of the familiar and in doing so makes it even more understandable than it would be if his gorilla was nowhere in sight.

Ohora’s previous picture book, Stop Snoring, Bernard! was a lovely book to look upon. As an artist, the man has cultivated a kind of acrylic mastery that really does a wonderful job of bringing out the personalities of his characters within a limited color palette. However, while the art in Bernard was at times beyond stunning, his storytelling wasn’t quite there yet. It was all show without the benefit of substance. So it was a great deal of relief that I discovered that No Fits, Nilson! had remedied this little problem. Story wise, Ohora is within his element. He knows that there is no better way of describing a kid’s tantrums than a 400-pound (or so) gorilla. Most important of all, the metaphor works. Nilson is a marvelous stand-in for Amelia, until that moment of spot-on role reversal.

As I mentioned before, the acrylics threaten to become the stars of the show more than once in this book. Limiting himself to blue, red, pink, yellow/beige and green, Ohora’s is a very specific color scheme. Neo-21st century hipster. Indeed the book appears to be set in Brooklyn (though a map on one of the subways manages to crop out most of the Bronx, Queens, Staten Island and half of Brooklyn, so maybe I’m reading too much into the setting). As I also mentioned before, painting beautifully is one thing, but coming up with delightful, memorable characters is what separates the RISD grads from the true picture book masters. Nilson is the one that’s going to get the kids the most excited to read this book so it was important for Ohora to make him a unique blue gorilla. Not the kind of guy you’d run into on the street. To do this, Ohora chooses to accessorize. Note the three watches Nilson wears on his left arm and the three on his right. Note his snappy black beret with the yellow trim, and yellow and black sneakers. Next, the artist has to make Nilson a gorilla prone to the grumps but that is essentially lovable in spite of them. For this, Amelia is a very good counterpoint. Her sweetness counteracts Nilson’s barely contained rage. Finally, Ohora throws in some tiny details to make the reading experience enjoyable for adults as well. The typography at work when the tiny words “banana ice cream” move from Amelia’s mouth and eyes to Nilson’s mouth and eyes is a sight to behold. Ditto the funny in-jokes on the subway (New Yorkers may be the only folks who get Ohora’s “Dr. Fuzzmore” ads, and the one for the zoo is a clear cut reference to Stop Snoring, Bernard!).

Yeah, I’m a fan. Kids may be the intended audience for books like this one, but it’s parents that are shelling out the cash to buy. That means you have to appeal to grown-up sensibilities as well as children’s. What Ohora does so well is that he knows how to tap into an appreciation for his material on both a child and adult level. This is no mean feat. Clearly the man knows where to find the picture book sweet spot. A visual feast as well as a treat to the ear, this is a book that’s going to find an audience no matter where it goes. At least it better. Otherwise I might have to sick my own 400-pound gorilla on someone, and believe me . . . you do NOT want to get him angry.

On shelves June 13th

Source: Review from f&g sent from publisher.

Like This? Then Try:

Finn Throw a Fit by David Elliott, illustrated by Timothy Basil Ering


When Sophie Gets Angry – Really Really Angry by Molly Bang


Nina in That Makes Me Mad by Steven Kroll, illustrated by Hilary Knight


The Day Leo Said, “I Hate You” by Robie H. Harris, illustrated by Molly Bang

Professional Reviews:

A star from Kirkus
Publishers Weekly

Misc:

Whence the inspiration for the book?  This comparison chart should clear everything up (WARNING: CONTAINS SOME SWEET KICKS).

Story of my life

Hi-ho, readers one and all!

I am back in the States, apparently in one piece, and raring to go.  In the coming weeks I’ll be gearing up for a bunch of Giant Dance Party appearances, and I will subject you to the announcements quite soon, I’m afraid.

A quick note or two about my recent jaunt to Spain.  It was, as one might hope, shockingly beautiful and lots of fun.  I saw old friends. Wrangled my almost two-year-old with the help of my husband, in-laws, and six-year-old niece.  And then I proceeded to discover that I was flying out on the same day that the Barcelona International Children’s Book Fair called Mon Llibre 2013 was slated to begin.  That’s right.  I managed to fly across an ocean and miss a unique and one-of-a-kind children’s book fair experience by a day.

That is all right.  I’ll just have to make a point to pay more attention in the future.  In any case, it’s great to be back!  Happy Monday!

The Children’s Literary Salon: Olivier Tallec and Oliver Jeffers at New York Public Library

Olivier Tallec & Oliver Jeffers

Moderated by Pamela Paul

Wednesday, May 1st |  6pm

Place: NYPL, Berger Forum

http://www.nypl.org/locations/tid/36/node/200792?lref=36%2Fcalendar

Olivier Tallec and Oliver Jeffers are both avid world travelers and authors whose bold and colorful children’s books are bestsellers in the US. Join them for an animated conversation at the New York Public Library, moderated by Pamela Paul, Children’s Book Editor of the New York Times Book Review.

This event is presented in conjunction with the series: Picture This! Conversations with illustrators from Paris and NY, organized by Cultural Services of the French Embassy. More info: http://frenchculture.org/books/festivals/picture-this

 

- Olivier Tallec’s books are as colorful as his travels. After graduating from the École Supérieure d’Art graphique in Paris, he worked as a graphic designer in advertising before devoting himself to illustration. His work has appeared in numerous newspapers and magazines and he has illustrated over 50 books for children, including Waterloo and Trafalgar (Enchanted Lion Books) and the well-known series ‘Rita and Whatsit’ (Chronicle Books). In 2010, Big Wolf & Little Wolf was chosen as a Batchelder Honor Book.

- Oliver Jeffers brings a strong sense of artistry and whimsy to his books. Originally from Northern Ireland, he graduated from the University of Ulster with a degree in Visual Communication. He is widely known for his picture books for children, including How to Catch a Star, The Great Paper Caper, and This Moose Belongs to Me (Philomel). Lost and Found received the Blue Peter Book Award in 2006 and The Incredible Book Eating Boy was named Children’s Book of the Year at the 2007 Irish Book Awards. He now lives and works in Brooklyn.

A Reminder: Don’t Forget to Re-Sendakify Sendak!

The rules are simple.  Reinterpret a famous scene from any Maurice Sendak book in the style of another famous children’s picture book artist. Perhaps you’d like to do Pierre ala Ezra Jack Keats or Outside Over There in the style of Marcia Brown.  All power to you.  Whatever you prefer, if you think this is a fun notion send me a scan of your idea and I’ll cull together a post filled with some of the different submissions and post the results on the anniversary of the publication of Where the Wild Things Are (October sumthin’ sumthin’).  And if you want to do it in the style of someone living (Mo Willems, Kevin Henkes, etc.) it could be fun but let it be on your head.  Admittedly, last time Dan Santat did a Jon Klassen that was absolute perfection.

See our previous post on how to Re-Seussify Seuss if you’ve any questions.

All submissions must be received at Fusenumber8@gmail.com by April 30st.

Enjoy!

“Are there any girl bears?”: Gender and the 21st Century Picture Book

Apparently I’m under the impression that it would be a good idea to write a potentially hot and toasty topic while I walk beneath the Spanish sun with limited access to the internet.  But this is something that’s been on my mind a lot recently, and it all came a head the other day as I was assigning various picture books to the branches of my library system.

In the course of my work I get a lot of books to consider for both purchase for NYPL and review for Fuse #8.  I was, on this day, handling some copies of 100 Animals on Parade by Masayuki Sebe.  Compared in some circles to Richard Scarry it received stellar reviews from Kirkus, PW, etc. and is a lot of fun to thumb through.  Unfortunately I noticed something that Kirkus had taken the time to note (well played, Kirkus).  In one spread we see a long line of marching bears.  The child reader is asked to find a lot of things, and must answer the question, “Are there any girl bears?”

Come again?  Seeing as how the bears are bereft of genitalia and boobs (which, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for) one has to assume that the book is asking kids to say that the bears with the long eyelashes, bows in their hair, and dresses are the girls.  Oh, how far we’ve sunk back down, eh?  Time was when folks got more than a bit peeved when you started limited girls in this way.  The most famous example of this involves the aforementioned Richard Scarry.  I’m sure you guys are familiar with the following comparison between Richard Scarry’s The Best Word Book Ever, 1963 and 1991.

This is a very fun and very systematic look at how Scarry was given a more open-minded outlook on the roles men and women play in everyday life.  And sure, the girls have dresses and bows and the men suits and sneakers, but at least their work in the home and occupations are a bit more interesting.  These days I’m noticing that some children’s books, particularly those of the mass market ilk, are going the way of our toy stores.  Which is to say, they’re getting VERY gendered.  Sometimes this is directly because of the gendering of toys (the “girl version” of LEGOs was kind of the last straw for me) but other times it’s just a reliance on the old sexist standbys.

The exception to all of this is our 21st century Scarry, Brian Biggs.  I’m consistently impressed with his Everything Goes series, and Mr. Biggs takes special care to challenge your assumptions.  Everything Goes In the Air, notably, makes the pilot of the airplane a woman without blowing it up into a great big deal.  Women fly planes.  It happens.  Deal with it.

Fair play too to books like Guinea P.I.G.: Pet Shop Detective series where the guinea pig in question is female (Sasspants is her name, solving crimes her game) and doesn’t walk around with four foot eyelashes and loads of pink accoutrements.

I’d be interested in what other folks have seen as well.  Naturally there are some books out there for girls that don’t want to be fairy princesses and boys who like reading a pink book (like Babymouse) once in a while for fun (though admittedly the amoeba spin-off was ostensibly aimed at the boy folks).  Still, is it just me or are things getting frighteningly boys-do-this / girls-do-this these days in our children’s literature?

Press Release Fun: Celebrating National Screen Free Week

Recently I was offered the chance to debut an original piece of art from the multi-talented Bob Staake. The reason? Well, National Screen Free Week is almost upon us.  I don’t think I’m the only one who has noticed a small growth in books that encourage kids to put down their shiny rectangles and engage in life, living, the pursuit of happiness, etc.  Whether they’re books that display the delights of blackouts or titles where cell phones are a thing of the past, it’s a growing movement.

The key facts for why this might be?

Preschoolers spend as much as 4.1 to 4.6 hours per day using screen media.
Including multi-tasking, children 8 to 18 spend 7.5 hours per day with screens.
The recent article in the Atlantic says it all: http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2013/04/the-touch-screen-generation/309250/

Here then, is a lovely little work by the aforementioned Staake-man.

Unplug & Reconnect With Books!
Random House Celebrates National Screen Free Week
Inspired by Dan Yaccarino’s DOUG UNPLUGGED
April 29th – May 5th
 
NEW YORK (March 14, 2013)— Random House Children’s Books issues the challenge to UNPLUG & READ this spring in support of National Screen Free Week—the annual celebration from the Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood (CCFC) that encourages turning off screens and turning on life.  To spread the word, we’re touring four of our most distinguished picture book artists, including Chris Raschka, Bob Staake, Dan Yaccarino and Tad Hills.
 
The centerpiece of the tour will feature Dan Yaccarino’s latest project, Doug Unplugged (On sale February 12, 2013) about a robot who dares rebel against the constraints of digital learning.
 
For Yaccarino, a digital artist and self-confessed tech nerd, this may seem counterintuitive. With his two children, however, Yaccarino takes a harder line. “I feel very strongly about the message of my book, DOUG UNPLUGGED. A lot of us spend much of our day in front of one kind of screen or another and we can sometimes lose sight that these screens only reflect life, and that there’s a big, beautiful world out there full of real experiences, people and places.”
 
Because we at Random House Children’s Books agree with both Dan and his robot friend Doug, we will be launching Random House Unplugs during National Screen Free week, (April 29th – May 5th). This initiative brings together some of the most well-known names in children’s illustrated books, including Chris Raschka, Bob Staake and Tad Hills, to participate in a national tour, school beautification projects and various other activities that help families encourage screen free time.  Each of these bestselling picture book creators is uniquely positioned to speak to the boundless benefits of engaging in screen-free activities and will use their new releases to inspire creativity. In select markets, the illustrators will create indoor and outdoor murals, encouraging students to contribute their own art to the creation.
 
Screen Free Week is the annual celebration from the Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood (CCFC) that encourages you to turn off screens and turn on life.  CCFC’s Screen Free Week is a creative response to growing public health concerns about the unprecedented time children spend with entertainment screen media—television, computers, video games, and smart phones. Unplugging for one week provides an opportunity to reset media habits, establishing a healthy, sustainable tradition of media consumption in households and schools.

To support the message of Screen Free Week, Random House Children’s Books will create a Random House Unplugs Video featuring our four illustrators, release exclusive art from each creator with their interpretation of what it means to UNPLUG, and launch a blog tour counting down the days until Screen Free Week, suggesting picture books through teen titles to turn to when the screens turn off. To support parents in their efforts to encourage Screen Free activities, a Guide with book suggestions for all ages, activities and tips for screen-free entertaining is also available. 

Barcelona Bound: Part II

Contrary to appearances I am not accustomed to international travel.  I have no frequent flyer miles set up.  I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if someone asked me to convert a Euro.  Yet in spite of all this, I seem to be on a plane today bound for bright and sunny Spain.  Some of you may recall how, two years ago, I combined my trip to the Bologna Book Fair with an additional trip to Barcelona.  Well now family reasons compel me to return, this time with a 2-year-old in tow.

How does one prepare one’s offspring for flight and foreign countries?  Well, if you’re me, you go to the books.

Step One: Get child comfortable with the notion of flight. 

Not too difficult since she flew to the Midwest last Christmastime, but flights overseas are longer, duller, and more confining.  Best to make the whole process familiar in some way.  So!  On to the airport books.  The kiddo likes these the most right now:

Everything Goes: In the Air by Brian Biggs – Her #1 favorite, no question.  The love of Biggs runs strong in the sprog.  Whether it’s his illustrations on Cynthia Rylant’s “Brownie and Pearl” series or the work he’s done here (whether the books or the board books), Biggs knows how to give vehicles of every stripe and flavor their due.  In In the Air Biggs walks you through the airline process.  My kiddo, naturally, is most intoxicated by the shuttle bus at the beginning and the missing babies you’re encouraged to locate throughout the rest of the story.  Still, she understands a lot of the airline process thanks to Mr. Biggs and also thanks to . . .

Flight 1, 2, 3 by Maria van Lieshout – This book is not only recent (note the 2013 publication date) but it has a unique take.  On the outside it might look like it’s just a walk through the airport process using numbers along the way (counting books are very big in the Bird household right now too).  On closer inspection, Ms. van Lieshout tips her hat to the airport and in-flight signs that have become universal symbols.  In this book she writes, “Without these signs – mostly designed by AIGA artists Seymour Chwast, Roger Cook, and Don Shanosky – we wouldn’t arrive on time or at the right destination.”  Didn’t Seymour Chwast write a picture book or two of his own?  Small world.  In any case, the book is itself is lovely and quite up-to-date when it comes to airport screenings and all that jazz.

Airport by Byron Barton – Circa 1982, no less.  You might think that most older airport books are about as dated as Fly Away Home by Eve Bunting.  And to a certain extent you’d be right.  Certainly anytime we whip out a Richard Scarry book it’s an exercise in what no longer exists.  But the Barton book is super simple and there’s much to be said for that.  It’s hard to top Barton, anyway.

Step Two: Introduce the concept of Spain.

This is a bit more difficult.  Spain makes as much sense to a toddler as the moon.  Less, actually, since they can see the moon and if you told them they’d be taking a trip there they’d completely buy it.  But Spain?  Here is the kiddo’s #1 association with that country.

My First Songs by Tomie dePaola – Specifically “Rain Rain, Go Away”.  If you’ll recall there is a line in there called “Rain rain, go to Spain / Never show your face again”.  Admittedly, if we were more superstitious people we might question the wisdom of sending inclement weather to our vacation destination.  As it stands, we’ll risk it.

As for Barcelona itself, there really aren’t that many children’s books that include it.  However, if you think a bit outside the box, there are always options.  So it was that I remembered:

Building on Nature: The Life of Antoni Gaudi by Rachel Rodriguez, illustrated by Julie Paschkis – A too little remembered but really quite good picture book biography of the man responsible for a great number of buildings in Barcelona.  The illustrations of Ms. Paschkis are luminous and do a darned good job at bringing the man’s work to life.  I had the vague notion of bringing the book along with me to Spain (my 6-year-old niece will be joining us, and I figured she might get a kick out of it), but my hold didn’t arrive on time.  Alas for me, but useful for anyone else who might be traveling to that neck of the world.

And so I go.  Fear not, I’ll be posting interim posts during my absence.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe I have a plane to catch.

A Children’s Book Fever Dream: Compounding Awesome Upon Awesome

There are some days when you are so utterly floored by delight that all you can do is throw up your hands and say to the universe, “I’m out!”  That was yesterday.  I’m out, folks.  I hit the top.  It’s all downhill from here.  And I’m so young!  It’s sad when you peak at 34.

The source of this joy/woe is Allie Bruce at the Bank Street School for Children’s library.  As you may know, if you attended my Children’s Literary Salon on Alternative Children’s Librarians, Allie is Bank Street’s children’s librarian and a more talented young ‘un you could not hope to find.  She asked me if I could come in one day to speak to some of her sixth graders about book jackets.  And since that is a topic I could talk about all day and night, I readily agreed.

Oh.  And while I was there, Lemony Snicket/Daniel Handler and Jon Klassen would stop by to do their very first dual presentation of their new book The Dark.

But wait.  There’s more.

Neil Gaiman would also be stopping by.  And Mr. Handler’s wife Lisa Brown.  And Jon Scieszka might come along.  As well as Kerlan Collection guru Lisa Von Drasek (newly appointed as a National Book Award committee judge).

So . . . there was that.

That morning I headed on over with my handy dandy FlashDrive, forgetting to bring my camera.  Luckily everything in my purse is a camera these days.  My phone is a camera.  My iPod is a camera.  My lipstick, extra shoes, and hairbrush may all well have cameras in them, for all I know.

My presentation seemed to go all right.  Allie was nice about it anyway, and though I was mildly unnerved when Lisa Von Drasek appeared, taking a picture with an iPad (it is hard to stay calm in the face of a large flat surface aimed at your head) I didn’t panic once.  For the record, the kids assured me that none of them liked the old cover of Okay for Now and did prefer the new paperback jacket.  They also agreed with me that the British cover of Dead End in Norvelt by Jack Gantos is heads and tails more interesting than the American one.  Duh.

When I was done I got to flit about.  In my flitting I saw that the Bank Street library’s children’s librarian’s office contains an ancient Jon Scieszka mask of yore.  The kind of mask that reminds you of Eraserhead more than anything else.  The mask is Lisa Von Drasek’s by right, and she had a fascinating story about when it was made and its original purpose.  Apparently when it first came out it was handed to a roomful of librarians.  Jon knew nothing about it and he walked in to see his own visage staring back at him from hundreds of faces.  “It was like Being John Malkovich“, he said.  Allie assured me that the kids who see it are fascinated.  Sometimes they commune with it on a near spiritual level.

Jon Klassen and Daniel Handler were slated to start signing a bunch of copies of their book but until they did we figured we’d hang out in The Quiet Room (which proved to be a bit of a misnomer).  I don’t own a clutch.  Not really.  So in lieu of one I tend to carry around a book.  Thus it was that the galley of Merrie Haskell’s Handbook for Dragon Slayers got lugged, poor thing, hither and thither, as I stuffed an interesting assortment of business cards, flyers, and Starbucks napkins into its pages.  Apparently I was worried that I’d have nothing to do and would need some entertainment.  Oh, the wrongness of little me.

Jon, Daniel, the remarkable Lisa Brown, her thoroughly enjoyable offspring (who had written one helluva graphic novel illustrated by his mom), Victoria Stapleton in shoes I should have caught on film, and a whole host of other folks flooded in.  Before long it was lunch.  Picture, if you will, what it is like to eat lunch across from Scieszka and Handler with Lisa Brown at your side and Lisa Von Drasek heading the table. I am not particularly good at socializing when overwhelmed.  I tend to get giggly.  And loud.  And I make strange little jokes that feed off of references that make sense only in my own head.  So while I was not particularly interesting at this gathering, the rest of the folks were superb.  In the future I’m taking my little audio recorder with me to capture this kind of situation on tape for the benefit of future generations.  See if I don’t.

So then Neil Gaiman comes in.  That was nice.  He’s a bit beardy right now.  Much with the stubble, which has a pleasant graying sheen to it.  Shocker: He wore black.  I’m not shy around famous folks, but Gaiman is a tricky one.  He’s a very kind famous person.  If you introduce yourself to him he’ll look you dead square in the eye, shake your hand, and seem interested in whatever babble proceeds to emanate from your mouth.  But famous people on his level are a bit difficult to converse with casually, and because they are at a distinct disadvantage to you (you know who they are, but they meet hundreds of people every day and can’t remember you as well) you can’t rely on them remembering any past conversations you might have had.  So I just skipped the whole meet Gaiman part of the day and chatted with Jon Klassen instead.  And Jon is a true doll.  The kind of guy you’d try to weasel yourself into sitting next to at a dinner party.  I’m trying to pin down exactly what his personality reminds me of, but it’s hard.  In any case, I lamented with him that he’d used such great material on his Boston Horn Book Globe Award speech now that he had to write a Caldecott one (he’s almost done with it, Roger, don’t worry!).

Then it was time for the presentation!  We proceeded to the Bank Street auditorium, which was apparently built on the side of a mountain.  It’s one of those auditoriums where you get the distinct feeling that if you tripped and fell down the stairs they’d have to pluck your various limbs out of the four corners of the room post-landing.  We sat up top, the kiddos sitting beneath us, closer to the stage.  And what lively kiddos they were too!  I suspect they were fresh off of lunch and had had their fill of pudding pops or whatever it is kids eat today (Note to Self: Check and see if pudding pops still exist . . . ditto Hydrox cookies).  They were bouncy.  Very bouncy.  Tres bouncy.  Handler played some background music for them which, interestingly, did not seem to affect them one way or another.  And so the fun began.

Now Daniel and Jon had never presented together.  Their PowerPoint presentation had not even been finished as of the night before.  And here they were, with Gaiman, ready to wow a room on a brand new book for the very first time.

Ladies and gentlemen, let us discuss the nature of comedic chemistry.  Think of all the great pairings of the past.  Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner.  Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin.  Tina Fey and Amy Poehler.  Now think of the great comedic children’s book pairings out there.  Jon Scieszka and Lane Smith.  Mac Barnett and Adam Rex.  Amy Krouse Rosenthal and Tom Lichtenheld (they get extra points for playing ping pong while they present).  But on this day we witnessed something new.  Something unique.  We witnessed, ladies and gentlemen, the greatest comic picture book pairing the world has ever seen.  I mean this honestly.

For you see, Mr. Handler had noticed something about Mr. Klassen.  He is a world class straight man.  A good straight man is exceedingly difficult to find.  You need someone who enjoys the spotlight but hasn’t the kind of ego that demands that they grab it away from their partner.  They need to be willing to be made a fool of, but the wit and cunning to turn it all around on their partner by the end.  In short, you need a Jon Klassen.

The entire schtick hinged on the idea that Mr. Handler (who proclaimed repeatedly that he was not Lemony Snicket to the pained cries of the delighted audience members) had zero respect for Mr. Klassen’s work on their book together.  In the course of their talk he disparaged Mr. Klassen’s clothes and talent.  Klassen, for his part, played along beautifully.  They alternated seemingly random slides of varying importance.  It was fairly clear that the slides were a combination of Handler’s old standbys (he’s in an old photograph phase right now that’s doing very well by him) with Klassen’s (in which he shows various important pieces of art from his youth, including a shot of Frog & Toad, and repeats how frightened he was of them when he was a child).

When Mr. Snicket starts to read the book with Mr. Klassen illustrating alongside him, the tension escalates.  Handler denies Mr. Klassen the shiny red apple he’d really like to eat.  He blindfolds him and makes him draw sans eyes.  He brings on Gaiman and claims he’s now going to read the book in his best Neil Gaiman imitation (Klassen makes fun of the “imitation” continually).  And then, when everything is reaching a crescendo . . . Klassen turns everything on its head and Handler runs off screaming.  I won’t give away why.  Bank Street recorded the whole thing and I’ll post it here when I can.

The kids, for the record, ate this thing up like it was a (perhaps nonexistent) pudding pop.  They laughed.  They screamed.  Mostly they screamed.  I’m not entirely certain if Handler and Klassen (and Gaiman for that matter) were ready for the level of identification the kids made with poor Mr. Klassen.  Handler told his blindfolded illustrator that both of them would blindfold themselves and then read and draw without their eyes.  This was, of course, a lie and the kids could not help but scream to Mr. Klassen that Mr. Handler was welching on his half of the deal.  There was an interesting level of desperation to their cries.  Handler’s an old hand in dealing with child panic and outrage, but Klassen dealt with it beautifully as well.  It was very satisfying to watch.  You should have heard les enfants terrible when Handler started eating Jon’s apple.

When the video is up and running I will let you know.  It’ll make your day.  Meantime, a big thank you to the folks at Little, Brown for bringing these heavyweights together and to Bank Street for hosting them.  And thanks, of course, to Allie Jane Bruce for inviting me and allowing me to report on what, without a doubt, was the highlight of the year.  Methinks I’ll go off and relive it a couple times just for kicks.

Jenny Brown living the dream with Allie Bruce close by.