Judith L. Roth's Blog, page 7

Cat caper

When I was asked to move Serendipity & Me from a picture book manuscript to a novel-in-verse, the story had to expand. Obviously. “I think you have more to say about this little girl and her father,” the editor said. I just had to figure out what it was.

It shouldn’t have been too surprising that I learned the father was a professor at a small college–one just like the college I went to. Because a cat was deep at the heart of my college experience.

He was found outside my dorm by a suite mate. “What are you going to do with him?” I asked when she pulled the kitten out of her jacket in my dorm room. She didn’t know. She willingly gave him over to me. He was Not Allowed, so my roommate and I hid him in our room.

We thought we were doing well, but after about three weeks, the RA came to us. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t see him when he keeps showing up in my room,” she said. The little stinker would crawl under our door and head straight to hers.

Fortunately, my fiance’s RA was happy to pretend he didn’t see Stinky. So Stinky spent the next several months in Marc’s dorm room until we got married at the end of the semester.

Cat culprits on campus

Stinky spent a lot of time in Marc’s dorm window, obvious to all passersby that Unallowable Activity was happening in that room. But no one said anything. When I wrote about Sara’s father pretending not to notice the kittens in the dorm window, it was how I imagined the authorities at my college reacted to Stinky in Marc’s window.

Kindly blind.

Stinky, about 3 years later

Love Songs for Valentine’s Day

In Serendipity & Me, Sara’s parents are brought together through a book of poetry called Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale. Sara is then named for this early 20th century American poet.

I hope this doesn’t embarrass my editors, but neither of them recognized Sara Teasdale’s name. One of them thought we’d need to write her to get permission to use her words (but her words were quite old enough to be in the public domain); the other thought this made-up poet should be writing poetry more suited to an adult.

Apparently Sara Teasdale is no longer a part of American Literature curriculum. Which shows my age that I know who she is, I guess.

It seems a loss, to me. So here is a page from my 1926 copy of Love Songs, (which I found online especially to use for Serendipity & Me). Consider it my valentine to you.

from Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale, (The MacMillan Co., 1926)