 |
| Linda Urban (photo by Julie Thompson) |
How do your favorite books from childhood stay with you long after you've read them? For author
Linda Urban, who joins our esteemed faculty at this year's
Weekend on the Water retreat, they never quite left. In her interview below, she remembers a classic favorite that may just have you scouring for a copy if you haven't read it lately––or ever!
So: The Pacific Northwest. In November. What is it about our Weekend on
the Water retreat that sold you? (I mean, I guess it IS going to be indoors...)
The location, of course, is a draw, but the truth is I'll go most
anywhere to be around other writers. There is an amazing energy that
develops when people who are passionate about books and writing get
together. I never fail to be inspired.
With books like Mouse Is Mad and The Center of Everything,
you have shown that you can write successful books for
children of all ages. Does the picture book versus the YA or MG novel
compete in your brain for domination? Do you secretly enjoy writing one
over the other?
I am a middle grade
fiction writer––that's where my head is, that's where my heart is, and
that's where my natural voice lies. I've written dozens and dozens of
picture books, but most are lousy or formulaic and deserve their spot in
the "Not So Much" drawer.
Mouse Was Mad surprised me, as did
Little
Red Henry––a picture book I have coming out with Candlewick. They
feel more like gifts I stumbled upon than something I truly understand
how to make.
What are three of your favorite books from childhood?
Thank you for asking for three OF my
favorites, because there were far more than three. All the Ramona
books, of course, and all the Little House books, too.
Charlotte's Web.
Little Women.
Tuck Everlasting. A Weekly Reader selection called
The
Winnemah Spirit by Carolyn Lane.
The book I want to tell you about, however, is a picture book called
Andrew Henry's Meadow,
by Doris Burn. Do you know the story? Andrew Henry loves to build
things, but his inventions are not appreciated by the rest of his
family. One afternoon, he packs up his tools and heads off through the
woods and the swamp until he comes to a beautiful little meadow where he
builds himself a house. How I loved the illustration of that house––stone and wood and thatch, bungalow-like and sized for one. It was
Andrew Henry's very own solitary place where he could build whatever he
wanted without criticism or embarrassment. It was beautiful.
A
page turn later, another child appears at the edge of the meadow. Alice
Burdock shows up with bird cages and field guides, her passion for all
things avian having been thwarted by her farmer father. Andrew Henry
builds her a house, too. A tree house, with plenty of feeders and
places to hang her binoculars. It is exactly perfect for Alice.
As
you might guess, more children follow and Andrew Henry builds each one a
house of his or her own, a house that is perfectly suited to his or her
passion for boats or mud pies or dress-up or tuba-playing. The meadow
becomes a small village for kids and the things they love. I spent
hours as a kid staring at those pictures, choosing one house or another
as my favorite, wondering what sort of special place Andrew Henry would
build for me if I emerged from the woods with my books and notepads and
typewriter.
Of course, the families of the children worry and
eventually the village in the meadow is discovered. You'd think that
this might be a disappointment for the reader, having this special,
secret place exposed like that, but you'd be wrong. What I loved about
this two-page spread in the book is that everyone––the kids, the
parents, the siblings, the pets––are jubilant! Nobody is scolded,
nobody feels guilty. It is all pure joy.
Can you tell that this
is still one of my all-time favorite books? I think that is because it
has such resonance for all of us who want to be recognized for the
things that make us special––particularly when those things fall into
the sometimes risky world of making art. Really, it is why retreats
like this one are so important. So many of us who write for children
are parents and have jobs and commitments that force us to put aside our
writing. Most of the time we do this willingly. We love our
families. The lucky ones of us even love our work. But when we can,
for a day, for a weekend, we put all that other stuff aside and make
time and space to honor our creative selves. And dang, if something
powerful doesn't happen. We appreciate ourselves more––our distinct
voices, our unique passions, our only-we-can-tell-them-stories. And if
we're lucky, we bring that magic home with us afterward, just like
Andrew Henry does.
How should Weekend on the Water, attendees approach this small-group event? As a
writer, what would you do to get the most out of it?
I think it is always a good idea to
enter a retreat or a conference with an intention––a small statement
of what you hope to get out of the experience. Maybe your intention
will be to be open to new ideas. Maybe it will be to learn one new
skill or technique. If we're clear about our intentions when
we enter a setting like this, it can be very grounding. We stop
comparing ourselves to others, we halt the inner critic in her tracks.
All we need to do is be true to that intention and let the rest fall
where it may.
You work in multiple genres. Do you work on multiple projects at once,
or are you sequential? If you are having a hard time with something, do
you take a break and switch over?
Most
of the time, I am project monogamous. Sometimes, I can work on a short
piece -- a picture book or poem or essay -- while a novel is resting or
with my editor, but this is not always fruitful. What does seem to be a
useful way to pass this time is reading and seeing films and going for
walks and enjoying all those other well-filling activities. All of it
feeds my writing -- some in obvious ways, some more covertly.
Of
course, this is about to change. For the first time, I am working on a
novel that will have a sequel and even as I revise the first, I am
making notes and writing scenes for the second. I know other writers do
this all the time, but for me it feels wild and dangerous.
BONUS: What's your favorite drink of choice while working?
I write most often with sweet milky tea (PG Tips) at my side.
Sometimes, if I get in a rare evening session, I like a porter or in
this still-hot-end-of-summer, a glass of Riesling, but too often this
just makes me sleepy.
Eat real sasquatch droppings? Or win great sasquatch prizes! Do both when you join Martha Brockenbrough and Suzanne Selfors this Sunday, Sept. 29, at 3 p.m. at Queen Anne Books in Seattle, where they'll be holding a "Bigfood Hairy Deal" Party. Listen to thrilling tales from their new books, FINDING BIGFOOT and THE SASQUATCH ESCAPE. Who knows who (or what) you'll see you there...
The weather's turning and it's time to fortify ourselves against the cold and dark by gathering our writerly and illustratorly selves together in good cheer! That gathering will be Saturday, September 28, starting at 6:30 p.m. at the Noble Fir in Ballard. The Noble Fir has the reputation as the favorite and best-attended gathering spot for our KLDNs, so please come find out why. And don't forget the best dirty limerick contest! All entries must be read aloud by the writer, decisions are final, judges are allowed to be fickle and capricious and sore losers will be required to come up with a dirty haiku on the spot. See you next Saturday! (Hosted by Brenda Winter Hansen, who owes me a drink)
Dana Sullivan will be worrying all night about reading Friday, 10 a.m. at Third Place Books, Lake Forest Park. Come help him with the big words and the little kids. Maybe bring some of your own (words AND kids). This is Dana's first reading so he asked veterans Deb Lund and Wendy Wahman what to do. One told him not to yell at the parents and the other told him "no biting." You guess who said what. He hopes to see you there! (he also thinks it's weird to write in the third person, in case you were wondering)
Looks like some serious congratulations are in order!
Lois Harris will teach an evening class in writing nonfiction for children at Skagit Valley College in Mount Vernon on two Thursdays, Oct. 3 and 10. Learn more about this bargain $49 class, called "Break into Children's Publishing by Writing Nonfiction," on the college website or by calling 360.416.7638.
Fetch a friend and come to Third Place Books in Lake Forest Park on Sunday, September 15! At 5:30 p.m., you can help Kirby Larson celebrate the launch of her latest book, Duke, a
WWII story about a boy who loans his beloved dog to Uncle Sam. You'll
learn about Dogs for Defense, which recruited thousands of family pets;
hear a short reading; and enjoy doggy-themed refreshments and swag.
But
wait! There's more.
