Active Variety: Summer Reading 2024

While I look forward to summer for my many trips to the library and local bookshops in my summer reading efforts, I confess I didn’t read a lot these warm months. But a few books did stand out to me that I’d love to take the time to share with you. Enjoy this eclectic mix, a quick peek into the shelves of my frenzied summer brain.

The books:

The Eyes And The Impossible by Dave Eggers: My first Dave Eggers book and it’s a lively and lovely middle grade novel narrated by a canine. Johannes lives in a park by the sea and serves as a protector-figure for the great behemoths of the land. Explore the animals in this world through the eyes of Johannes and flip through the pages for lush, sporadic illustrations by Shawn Harris. Sweet and verdant story, perfect for summer reading.

Cartwheeling In Thunderstorms by Katherine Rundell: A girl, Wilhelmina, leaves behind her free-sprited life on an African farm for England and boarding school in this warm and semi-melancholic middle grade novel. Reminded me of The Wild Thorberrys Movie, which I adored dearly as a child and even now as an adult.

The Road To San Donato by Robert Cocuzzo: Fathers, sons, bike trips, and Italy? What’s not to love? Ride with Robert Cocuzzo and his father Stephen to the ancient village of San DonatoVal di Comino from Florence to uncover their family heritage. A wonderful memoir that reflects on family and place.

Fifty Beasts To Break Your Heart by GennaRose Nethercott: A fantastic selection of the whimsical and weird. Like any book of short stories, I prefer some stories to others, but overall a unique collection of dark tales. My highlight includes the book’s namesake, an illustrated bestiary of 50 creatures with descriptions ranging from curt to fascinating.

Curveball by Pablo Cartaya: Undoubtedly inspired by the Sandlot, just compare some of the illustrations to the scenes in the movie, this graphic novel is a delight and something my younger-athlete self would love to read.

K: A History Of Baseball In Ten Pitches by Tyler Kepner: An absolute bear of a book, Kepner details ten commonly-used pitches used in professional baseball and regales readers with special MLB moments behind the curveball, fastball, etc. My favorite snippet would have to be the story behind Brad Lidge’s slider that won the Phillies the World Series in 2008, a moment I remember well.

Inspiration: The Sandlot

Music, movies, or TV? We recently tossed this question around at work, and I brought it up amongst my friends. For me, it’s that sequence, music at the tippy top, movies a few notches down but still high enough, and TV relegated to the basement. I need music, it is an integral part of my creative process. I truly believe my favorite albums have shaped my outlook on life and my own sense of self. But I’ve talked about music here before and I will again. Movies to me are another source of magic and inspiration as a writer and illustrator. Family drive-in nights, trips to the theater for birthday parties, and late night watches in our family room, the many ways I consumed movies were as significant as the stories themselves.

When I first saw The Sandlot, my sister and I were hosting one of our many middle school basement sleepovers. We had it on DVD for some reason and popped it in out of curiosity. I remember all of us girls, fellow soccer and lacrosse players from our onslaught of travel and club leagues and sleepover regulars, all watching it for the first time and loving it. We watched it again the next morning.

As young athletes, maybe we saw ourselves in the group of boys playing ball, working on their game out in the summer heat every day. We found it funny, relatable, and I personally loved the setting. The many characters were great and unique in their own way. The dialogue was realistic, everything just felt fun and real. But the movie wasn’t really about playing a sport. I realized that then as a kid, sure, but it became clearer to me much later in life what The Sandlot was about at its core.

Nostalgia is a funny, overused concept in media. It bothers me that it’s become such a cash grab in Hollywood because real longing for a previous life is actually beautiful and sad, and it means a lot to me. I was flipping through the channels a few days ago, a steamy July evening that seemed to sink from a burnt-sun dusk to a starry blue blanket of a night sky in minutes. The Sandlot was on ABC, a network owned by Disney known for its source of family-centered programming. I don’t know if it still brands itself as that sort of network, but I noticed the movie was starting at 8pm on a summer Sunday. And that in turn unlocked another childhood memory of The ABC Sunday Night Movie, a bygone cable phenomenon featuring family-friendly films airing on the ABC channel specifically on Sunday nights.

My sisters and I would watch whatever aired on the network during the Movie Night, sometimes with our parents or maybe grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, seeing movies like Annie and The Sound of Music for the first time. It went through some name changes, but a version of the channel’s movie night seemed to still exist that summer Sunday night I tuned into ABC to watch The Sandlot, my first time watching the movie in years (probably since those middle-school viewings). I couldn’t believe how good it was and how much I loved it now as an adult. I was a kid all over again. But how did this little movie about a new kid on the block playing backyard baseball make me feel that way?

The Sandlot taps into a particular brand of nostalgia unlike the typical sentimental fare. As simple as the story is, kid moves to a new neighborhood and learns how to play baseball with a bunch of scruffy boys, the movie does a great job at extending to the friendship and closeness we have with our peers back in our school-age days. The Sandlot is a little slice of Americana, a summer story that speaks to kids for its humor and play. But it also has a lot to say to the adults watching.

In the movie’s closing scene, we see a grown-up Smalls commentating for the LA Dodgers. He cheers on the pinch hitter making a break to steal home, and we viewers can see that the player is none other than Benny The Jet Rodriguez, the very kid who brought Smalls into the Sandlot all those years ago. The two smile at each other and the camera moves to a bunch of baseball memorabilia Smalls has pinned to the wall in his commentary booth. The camera lingers on a photo of the Sandlot boys, and the movie ends.

The movie shows us that we were all kids once, hopefully playing with friends, having fun in our community, and passing time in summer by getting into all sorts of trouble. Then we grow up and some of those friendships fade, we move away, things change. We don’t stay in touch with everyone we once knew as kids, although some of those friendships may stick through to adulthood. And the friends we had in our youth, the neighborhoods we grew up in, the memories we created playing in the backyard or goofing off, are still a part of who we are and still hold some meaning to us. Our childhood’s ran rampant with imagination and play, and The Sandlot reminds me how cozy and wonderful that part of my life was.

I watch The Sandlot and my memories of that playfulness come flooding back. Time and memory are what I write about the most, and movies like The Sandlot help me keep remembering those times. The story that I’ve been working on for the past few months has some subconscious parallels to The Sandlot, I’ve realized. I guess I really missed this movie, and it was a delight to finally revisit by stumbling upon it on TV (I also miss finding gems on cable) and enjoy all over again with a newfound appreciation and a sense of familiarity of my own youth.

Welcome to the World, Baby Girl

Sorry for the radio silence. Between work, spring co-ed soccer, and crafting new portfolio pieces for this site, my family and I have been prepping for the birth of my beautiful twin sister’s baby - a big deal as she will be the first granddaughter in our family and the first Piazza great-grandchild for my grandparents. My Nano told us last year that his remaining wish in life would be to live long enough to see his great-grandchildren, and thanks to Sarah and Griffin, he will get to see his great-granddaughter.

Baby Shower invite designed by yours truly.

It’s been an eventful past few months. Last October when my mom and I visited Sarah and Griff at their new home on Johns Island in South Carolina, she surprised us with the news. We threw her a baby shower last month at our dear neighbor’s house and I designed the invitations, a joy for an illustrator. Then this past Tuesday at midnight, Emory Anne Barth was born seven pounds, four ounces in a room full of love on Mount Pleasant. I still can’t believe she’s here. On the night of her birth, I stumbled upon John 16:21 before I fell asleep, although I believe that was God’s way of telling me baby girl was coming.

My mind can’t fully process Emory’s arrival. It won’t hit me until I’m holding her in my arms in a few weeks, but my family and I are just so grateful for her spring arrival. In these precious moments that make up the minutes of our existence, I think about how it is such a blessing for each and every one of us to have life. We’re not perfect and there’s hardships and struggles and needing to make ends meet. It’s not easy to live a life, but I think about little Emory being brought into this world and suddenly I’m a little girl again, experiencing everything for the first time. That curiosity is still there for me. There’s so much I haven’t yet seen or felt or achieved and I’m reminded of how amazing life is.

Dear Emory, I can’t wait for you to experience all that life has to offer. Grow big, little niece. I love you already.

Character Design Done Right

Recently, I’ve tinkered more and more with drawing and devising characters in my sketchbook. About two winters ago, an SCBWI portfolio review that I signed up for revealed that my website was severely lacking in characters, particularly human characters. Editors and agents like to see varying facial expressions, costumes, poses, and other idiosyncrasies when looking for new artistic talent. After all, characters are the ones that make up a story. So for my recent weekly sketching, I turned to a variety of movies, tv shows, and drawings and illustrations on Pinterest and Instagram to gain some inspiration on good character design. And despite the many lovely examples set by talented illustrators and animators, I did see a pattern in the characters that were not very strong.

While art is subjective and it’s always difficult to qualify what makes something bad or good, I do think that bad character design is attributed to homogeneity. Same face syndrome, as the name suggests, is when all the people/characters an artist creates have near identical faces or body features. Unfortunately, we see this in certain animation studios, comic books, and other forms of media where characters drive the story. Consider some of the Disney princesses: while not identical to a T, many of them share very similar features including heart-shaped faces, upturned noses, full lips, starry eyes, and small hands around slim waists and slender legs. They all look clean and similar, not different enough. We even see this in real life in Hollywood and the beauty industry. Many models, actresses, and singers get lip fillers, botox, and rhinoplasty to achieve a specific standard of beauty. But that leaves very little room for uniqueness, it takes away from the variety of the human race and to me, it’s just uninteresting.

My own character design. I’m focusing my sketchbook on people.

Same face syndrome also means less diversity in character design while people look different from one another. A person of Asian descent does not look exactly the same as a person of African descent. And within those two categories are even more subcategories - what country is that person from? How is their climate? Do they exercise? Are they focused on building muscle? People have different facial features and different body types and (dis)abilities. Some people have lots of hair. Some wear glasses. Some may use a wheelchair. Some may need to avoid excess sunlight. So keeping the hugeness of our world and the many people in it in mind, why do we make our characters look so similar?

Good character design to me is about drawing different noses, eyes, legs, torsos, accessories. It’s about avoiding homogeneity and not being afraid to look imperfect, even a little grimy. When I watch animated movies, I find the clean-cut characters of Disney with their smooth skin, aligned features, perfect hair, and similar body types to be boring and not indicative of real life. The movies I gravitate toward aren’t afraid to break the boundaries of beauty standards because they really don’t matter when creating interesting characters. In fact, some of the characters I recently saw in TMNT Mutant Mayhem had wildly crooked noses, stretched torsos, and other features that didn’t perfectly match real life either due to how warped they are. But isn’t weird, imperfect, and even ugly much more interesting than flawless? I can tell you that I had a ball with that movie just because of how odd and colorful the characters looked.

So when I think of character design right, I think of variety not just in hair and skin color but in texture. I think of proportions that are considered good, okay, or even off. I picture fun costuming: oversized glasses, canes with unique handles, tiny hats. There’s no universal standard for perfect character design and some people really like the polished Disney character look. But characters that have visible differences are more interesting than characters who look the same just with a minuscule change in hairstyle or a sweater added over a shirt. People from different ethnic and geographic backgrounds, different cultures and ages, different environments and interests should not look 100% the same.

Of course in the spectrum of character design, there is realistic to cartoonish, representative to figurative. A newspaper comic will have a much different style of drawing than a Nintendo character concept designer and the idea of character design being unique to each individual creator is another conversation. But I think we as artists and illustrators looking to better our character designs can agree that characters that don’t look or feel the same are stronger. Better character design to me means starting simple with shapes: take a person with a long face for example. They may have an oval for a head with a long triangle nose while their opposite may be a small chubby-cheeked child who would look better with a button for a nose and a little circle for a head. To vary my characters, I’ll start with shapes and build onto them with more shapes, lines, and details that keep them separate and fun in their uniqueness. Because each person is special in their own way, and our characters should reflect that.

Favorite Reads 2023

Thank you to Goodreads for the annual recap of the many books I’ve had the pleasure to read in 2023. I set out this year’s goal for 50 books and came out with plenty to spare. But even with a variety of titles and age groups and genres under my belt, only a select few really impacted me enough to be set aside as favorites. I’m choosy, I’ll admit, but the books in the below list hit me really hard this past year.

The books:

The Hurting Kind by Ada Limón: There’s a reason Ada Limón is my favorite contemporary poet - she truly has a way with her words and creates incredible weavings that match human thought with surroundings. The Hurting Kind is the perfect follow-up to Bright Dead Things; it’s a collection of poems equally lyrical in its words and pensive in it musings and observations. The pictures Limón paints in poems like “Strangers in the Thicket” and “Blowing on the Wheel” take me to familiar places where I am at peace in my solitude with flora and fauna. I will continue to reread and look forward to her next book of poems.

Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant? by Roz Chast: Visits to my friend’s house down the street meant peeks through her mother’s stack of New Yorker issues piled high on their family room coffee table. While those quick flip-throughs familiarized me with the idiosyncrasies behind the magazine’s frequent use of cartoons, I never really connected to them visually or narratively. Roz Chast is a frequent contributer to The New Yorker and Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant? is her own unique take on the memoir. Through humor and family retellings set up in panels that read like a comic book, Chast delves into the final years she spends with her aging parents in Brooklyn. Funny, heartfelt, bright, and upsetting, I loved Chast’s unique spin on family memoir and felt all the more drawn to her perspective on caring and grief via cartoons.

Welcome to the Circus of Baseball by Ryan McGee: There’s a lot to be said about baseball and America and McGee’s memoir of his summer working at a minor-league team in the South covers a fair chunk of it. It’s 1994 and ESPN reporter Ryan McGee is an intern for the Asheville Tourists in North Carolina. McGee recollects the core memories from his impactful summer with chapters detailing the ridiculous ballpark promotions used to draw local crowds, forging truces with stray stadium cats, and of course the frenzy of Air Jordan’s summer stint in the minor leagues. Even for not-basbeball-fans, I recommend this wonderful memoir to anyone for McGee’s notes on small-town America and what inexpensive and endearing things rural communities look for in search of summer fun.

Remember Us by Jacqueline Woodson: I remember first reading Brown Girl Dreaming in grad school and being struck by how beautiful Woodson’ prose was. Here, she continues on with her poetic tone in this middle grade novel centering on one girl’s recounting of the Bushwick fires in her Brooklyn neighborhood, nicknamed “The Matchbox.” It’s the late 1970s and Sage is about to enter seventh grade. She plays and dreams of basketball with Freddy, a new kid on her block, and they share observations on the changing nature of time and place in their small slice of New York City. A simple and quick read, Woodson’s prose again hits that dreamlike, watchful viewpoint only a wide-eyed, young narrator can provide.

Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver: With all the noise and awareness behind it, Demon Copperhead was my most-anticipated read for the year and it still managed to blow me away. I avoid hype and clout in works of art be it in film, music, books, etc: I prefer to let the work speak for itself when I engage with it. Demon Copperhead is a rare exception where all the praise is truly warranted. Kingsolver’s retelling of David Copperfield and swapping of the bleak landscape of the poor in Victorian London for modern Appalachia’s poverty-and-addiction-stricken population is ingenious. The epic centers of course on Damon (Demon), a boy born and trapped in misfortune-laden Americana. He navigates a world of foster care, hunger, loss, love, drugs, pain, and hope while paralleling real-life issues that continue to ravage Appalachia. I may be biased since Demon Copperhead is set in southwest Virginia, a region I lived in and came to love for all its beauties and complications. If anything, Demon Copperhead makes me want to read Kingsolver’s work in its entirety to uncover more of her use of language and setting to build characters and conflict. Truly fantastic. My favorite book of the year, and now one of my favorite novels to ever exist.

Writing a Novel is Hard

Butt in Chair: the mantra heard in writing circles, read in writer’s guides, taught in creative writing classes, and so on. I’ve heard conflicting thoughts on the phrase. You can’t say you’re a writer if you don’t sit down and actually write your pages. You also can’t gain inspiration or live life by remaining in said chair. I think it’s safe to say that no matter what advice you receive, the act of writing is just plain difficult. It really is.

This November, I bit the bullet and signed up for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) to put the novel I started last fall back into my mindset. The phenomenon challenges aspiring writers across the globe to set aside the month of November for some good-old-fashioned Butt in Chair time; got a story you’ve always wanted to write? Take NaNoWriMo as your golden ticket opportunity to get it going. And for me, that’s what I needed, a form of external motivation, some semblance of a deadline to remind me of my grad school days to get the damn writing written. You see, I fare better with a deadline, a kick, a lit fire. Plus some other sources of inspiration struck me these past few months and I wanted to revisit my story idea born last October. NaNoWriMo would be my time to get some writing, hopefully my whole story, in. Except once again, even with a deadline and a deep desire to tell a story, writing is just plain difficult.

I’ve used the Butt in Chair method and writing a middle grade (MG) novel, typically 20,000 to 50,000 words in length, is still tough for me. Long-form running is like running a marathon, it takes time out of a busy schedule. While poems, picture book scripts, and other short-form writing just come naturally to me, I’ve always strived to write novels; some of my favorite books come out of the middle grade age group and I thought, I can do this. In the words of my Nano, if other people can do it, why can’t I? Enough longing to write a book that can stand with some of my favorite MG writers on the shelves, just write a book and go from there. And so this November, I did. Or at least I started.

This NaNoWriMo - yes, by the time this is posted, November will still be going on - I’m not going to finish my MG work in progress. I don’t know why this big challenge takes place during a major American holiday and the end of the year at that, Thanksgiving and Q4 assignments really threw a wrench in my writing streak - I did have one going on from early to mid-November. But I am about at the halfway point of my little writing expedition. So even though I won’t reach the challenge’s ultimate goal of finishing a novel within the month of November, I’ll celebrate this small win. I will keep going in December, in the next months, in rewriting, reworking, and the analyzing and editing stages. I’m grateful for NaNoWriMo’s motivation, I did get some good first draft writing in after all even if the end result wasn’t a fully finished first draft.

Yes, I would’ve liked to have written more and have at least the drawn skeleton of my book. Composing a novel is hard, but every step along the journey is important. For me, I just needed a little pep in my step to get started. My book is a passion project, and I know the motivation is there waiting to take shape on a finished manuscript. I do want to share more about my book and I hope that one day kids around the country and world can see it on shelves. That is my true end result. So be on the lookout for more misadventures of a MG work in progress in desperate need of crossing the finish line.

Disappointment and Failure

A webcomic creator I follow on Instagram recently shared a post about art and pain, two things that so many people think go hand-in-hand. In her left panel labeled “Expectation,” the cartoon artist’s speech bubble says something along the lines of “Oh the pain, how it inspires me!” The artists stands in front of a blank canvas, her arms thrown back, ready to create. The right panel labeled “Reality” shows the same artist standing far away from the canvas with an “I haven’t felt inspired to create anything in weeks” speech bubble. Her arms remain slumped at her sides. And that dual-panel comic encapsulates everything I could ever say about art and pain and how artists and non-artists see both concepts together.

While I believe in the tortured artist and its many interpretations, I do find it strange how we see the artist’s motivation deriving solely from pain. And overt pain at that. So the stereotypical starving artist is plagued by great tragedy, loss, personal strife, issues stemming from mental health, past trauma. And while that can be true, not all artist’s pain is flashy or even noticeable to friends and family.

For me, my artist’s pain is disappointment, a lack of motivation. I’ve already discussed my midday slump, but that idea of being lackadaisical is something I’ve really been struggling with as of late, and not just during the afternoon. I haven’t been getting much sleep. I’ve been heavily invested in my baseball team, the Philadelphia Phillies, all year. This week they suffered a devastating loss, ending their chances of even going to the World Series. I stare at my computer screen all day for work and then at night I scroll through eBooks, Bible verses, Instagram, and YouTube, the blue light reflected on my eyes. I’m tired and I feel disappointed in myself and the things I invest my time in. I haven’t felt inspired to create anything in weeks.

I’ve started and stopped at least three illustration projetcs in the past month. Laziness, tiredness, and a general lack of interest and creativity has bothered me this fall. I have a picture book dummy just about ready to go for the querying process but fear and dwindling motivation have stopped me. What’s the point? I ask myself. It’s so hard to get a book deal, why bother right now? I’m only going to get rejected.

I wish I could say there’s an easy fix or a better perspective to be had out there that might squash these negative feelings of mine. But I don’t want to fool myself or pretend like these feelings will just go away. I think as a working artist, disappointment and a general sense of failure are part of the game. While these negative senses can seem like a stimulant or a depressant, just acknowledging the existence of these feelings helps me to realize that the pain artists grapple with can be monotonous and not all that exciting.

I haven’t experienced any recent great tragedy. I don’t dislike my daily routine, I don’t have any unbearable sadness. I actually have a very blessed life with good family, friends, food to eat, clean water to drink, a place to live, a job that I enjoy. Sometimes, I feel unmotivated and I don’t produce work. In those instances, I feel like a failure. But those moments ebb and flow, and eventually inspiration and ideation come through and I find the balance to write and illustrate. The conversation on art and pain should focus on there being good days and bad days. It’s normal for “pain” to be as simple as lack of sleep and a need for more balance between work and play. Disappointment and failure affects artists as much as it affects anybody else, and that can be enough pain to get through and eventually overcome when saddling up for the next creative endeavor.

Genres Galore: Summer Reading 2023

There’s a lot to love about Goodreads: it helps readers find new books via recommended titles, connect with friends and see what they are reading, and record books read, to be read, and currently being read under the “My Books” section.

There are some negatives, one of them being the ratings system, which I don’t often use. That’s not to say I abstain from rating any books I have read, I only rate the books I have big reactions to. I never liked the idea of star or number or letter-grading systems to determine whether I think a book I have read is good or not. Opinions change. No piece of writing is 100% immaculate, nor is it all garbage. I find it difficult to attribute a specific rating to something I have read because some stories I like and some stories I simply don’t; that doesn’t mean I need to pair my feelings with a rating or score. The ones I assign a star rating to are the ones that really speak to me or I just want to give a score to in the moment I finish reading it, and again, even those initial first-reading-thoughts change. This is likely a bigger conversation on the nature of scoring art; I’m getting ahead of myself since this is supposed to be about Summer Reading 2023.

I opened with Goodreads because that app is my new book-tracking system. The books I’ve read this summer, I’ve logged onto Goodreads, a huge relief for my previous TBR list on my Apple Notes app.

Below is a list of the titles I feel worth highlighting. Again, this is not to suggest that all the other books I’ve read these past few months were bad or unimpressive. As much as I love to read, few books I consume leave a serious impact on me. Most of what I read (across a variety of age groups and genres) is fun or light or enjoyable, even the serious books I take with a grain of salt. Here’s a varied list of some of June, July, and August’s summer reading selection (the season isn’t over until Labor Day, so happy reading!):

The Ghosts of Rose Hill by RM Romero: A lyrical middle grade novel about a girl’s summer with her aunt and an otherworldly new friend in Prague.

Lodge: And Indoorsy Tour of America’s National Parks by Max Humphrey: Like the title says, take a tour of picturesque parks in style by visiting ten stylish US National Park lodges through this photography book.

Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant? by Roz Chast: Uncover the joy of caring for aging New Yorker parents in Chast’s creative memoir, a graphic novel.

The Hidden World of Gnomes by Lauren Soloy: In this charmingly-illustrated guide, explore a year in the forest with the many gnomes dwelling in their peaceful homeworld of The Pocket.

Motherthing by Ainslie Hogarth: A John Waters-esque novel of a woman willing to go to extreme measures to save her husband from the vengeful ghost of his mother.

Welcome to the Circus of Baseball by Ryan McGee: Spend summer, specifically summer 1994, with recent college grad and future ESPN reporter Ryan McGee as he navigates a hilarious and joyful stint as a ballpark employee for a minor league team in Asheville, North Carolina.

Interview with a Teacher, Jody Stallings

For my little interview series, I feature authors, illustrators, publishers, and college professors in the sphere of children’s literature to find out, what makes a children’s book? What’s needed in a portfolio? What does the study of children’s literature entail? But I’ve been wondering what a different perspective might look like. What are children like nowadays? Who has the best understanding of the actual readers of the published children’s books I am such a fan of? Where can I find the right someone to give me the nitty-gritty details of current school kids?

My answer arrived in an article I stumbled upon at work. Jody Stallings is a writer and middle school English teacher in lovely Charleston, South Carolina (Hi Sar and Griff!). He writes “Teacher to Parent,” a weekly column for the Charleston Post and Courier supplement the Moultrie News - the source of my discovery. He has also authored a novel, White Lake. A teacher, adjunct professor, director of a Christian youth group, and a father, Jody Stallings’ many positions explain his nuanced questions and ideas in his writing. I appreciate his thoughtful breakdown of many hot topic events in the public discourse surrounding today’s youth, schooling, leadership, and much more. Mr. Stallings agreed to an interview, and I’m happy to share his critical responses.

Photo courtesy of Jody Stallings.

What made you want to become a teacher?

I had a feeling when I found myself at about the age of seven delivering lessons to my Star Wars action figures that teaching was what I was put on the earth to do. (The action figures were generally better focused than teenagers, by the way. Less entertaining, but more focused.) :)

How does literacy factor into your classroom? Do your students enjoy reading and writing?

Literacy, to me, is essentially being able to understand what one reads; I aim beyond that, seeking to help students actually appreciate, enjoy, and learn from what they read. Someone told me there are three questions we should be able to answer about what we read: 1. What does it say? 2. What does it mean? 3. What does it matter? I focus mostly on the third question -- how does this text relate to our lives? -- and find that students absorb one and two along the way. 

I teach middle schoolers so I can't truthfully say that they enjoy either reading or writing, but I don't worry about that. As long as I can induce them to just do it, I know one day love and enjoyment of it will come (for many, at least).

Do you have any favorite writers or books to include in your lesson plans?

It can be dicey incorporating your very favorite writers and books into your classroom because when students treat what you think is sacred with a yawn and a shrug, it can be discouraging. So I try to give them works that are appreciated by broad audiences and only carefully give them works I hold close to my heart. Flannery O'Connor and the Brontes I would not give them because I don't think they could fully appreciate those writers. But I do give them some Ray Bradbury stories, some Emily Dickinson poems, Thornton Wilder's Our Town, and Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird. For the most part, they enjoy those works. Except for the poetry. They almost universally despise poetry, which is sad for me because it's my favorite genre of literature. But that's okay because it inspires me to try to improve at teaching it every year!

 
What do you think is the biggest challenge facing students today?

It's a combination of technology's dominance in their lives and lowered expectations from teachers and adults. 

TikTok and other social media apps -- not to mention pornographic sites -- have fundamentally changed the personalities of adolescents. Parents are giving kids unrestricted phone access at younger and younger ages, and kids now essentially live two lives: the one in real life that their parents see, and the hidden one online under the influence of a billion unknown users who do not have the kids' best interests at heart. 

The other issue, teachers' lowered expectations, is permitting kids to grow into adults with little knowledge, sloppy work ethics, me-first attitudes, and almost no intellectual curiosity or critical thinking skills.

When you really look at it, the biggest challenge facing students today is bad decision-making from the adults in their lives. :(

What aspect of being a teacher do you find most rewarding?

In addition to being a public school teacher, I am also a community Christian youth group director, and many of the kids in the youth group come from my classroom. Seeing faith transform those students is far and away the most rewarding aspect of teaching. :)

Catch Jody Stallings on his website, jodystallings.com and follow his column, “Teacher to Parent” at the Charleston Post and Courier for more reflective responses on key issues for today’s youth and education.

I Moved to an Apartment with a Wall of Bookshelves

Earlier this winter, my neighborhood friend Katie asked if I was interested in finding an apartment with her in central Maryland to be closer to our jobs. Now I write from beautiful Annapolis in a spacious apartment with a wall of bookshelves to my right in my bedroom.

The entire process felt like a blast into hyperspeed, I can’t wrap my head around how quick everything was. Just two months ago, Katie was finishing up her PhD in upstate New York so my older sister tagged along with me on apartment tours. Nothing hit my level of satisfaction, all the places we viewed were in distant, listless areas. Through extensive Googling, something wonderful caught my attention on a local realtor’s website. The apartment of interest was close to lovely downtown Annapolis, Maryland’s maritime capital my family and I have visited all throughout my life. I immediately booked a visitation, walked around the new hardwood floors, called my friend and said “let’s do it,” and we signed that night. I prayed, God answered, and I’m reflecting on the entire journey while admiring this lovely wall of shelves the apartment came with.

Much like our relatively painless move, I sometimes wish I could make certain life moments move at hyperspeed, where I can skip the waiting or the unsure periods and get right to the good stuff. I feel that way about my writing. Can’t I just get to the part where I’m holding my book in my hands? When can I feel the fruits of my labor as a successful author in my bank account? I see this wall of bookshelves and I see hope, and potential. I’m reminded that not everything I go through will be as simple and fast as my move to this beautiful apartment that I just so happened to come across one day.

In writing, there are those who plan every one of their story beats, the “plotter,” and there are others who channel spontaneity as their muse and fly by the seat of their pants, the “pantser.” I disagree with the idea that a writer must be a plotter or a pantser, one or the other, because I believe I lie somewhere in both. Yes, I carefully tailored my apartment search and narrowed the optimal location radius when pinpointing ideal locations. But the apartment I am in now came out of the blue; I didn’t think something so me and Katie could just fall into our laps. But it happened.

Some things you can plan and plot and do all your carefully conducted research on. But not everything falls in our control, so why not roll with the punches? I didn’t think I’d have a home for my boxes and boxes of accumulated reads from grad school and beyond. Surprises can be found around the corner, or for me and my new room, around the wall of many fantastic bookshelves.

Interview with Laura Tucker

My copy, fresh from the library shelves.

I love middle grade fiction for its variety; different settings, times, and genres offer numerous opportunities in story. Young characters are given plenty of space to play, and that’s what twelve-year-old Olympia and her friends do in 1981 SoHo. Laura Tucker’s All the Greys on Greene Street envisions a not-too-distant past where kids had free reign of New York City. Ollie’s world is surrounded by art: her mom is a sculptor, her father restores paintings, and the city is alive with murals, museums, and everyday artists. But when Ollie discovers a mysterious note and her father’s disappearance in the middle of the night, she realizes her whole world is not what it seems.

All the Greys on Greene Street reminds me why I love middle grade. Tucker makes Ollie an engaging protagonist with her independence and steadfastness amidst sudden change. The setting and timeframe are another one of my favorite parts of the story; the not-too-distant-past has always interested me, and as a girl, I’d often visit my artistic family in NYC, so Greene Street was very relatable for me.

Laura Tucker is no stranger to professional writing. She worked at two top literary agencies and has written, co-written, and ghost-written more than 30 books. All the Greys on Greene Street is her middle grade novel debut, and she graciously agreed to answer some of questions on the industry and writing process.

How did you break into the children's book industry?

I had an extremely unusual and charmed process. I'm a former literary agent and a ghostwriter by trade, so I've been in and around publishing for a long time. I wrote the book in secret--it was a hobby project, and I didn't tell almost anyone about it until it was done. When I thought it was in pretty good shape, I showed it to Susanna Einstein, a literary agent and an old friend who's one of the best readers I know. She introduced me to some agents, including the amazing Faye Bender, who agreed to represent it, and who sold it to Kendra Levin, my brilliant editor, who was at Viking at the time. 

I know how lucky I am that it went the way it did. 

Do you have any favorite writers or influences that have impacted your writing? 

So, so many! Rebecca Stead's books, including When You Reach Me, have been a huge influence--I cherish the fact that she read and liked All the Greys. I love Kate DiCamillo, Philip Pullman, Meg Rosoff; my kid was one of the Harry Potter obsessed, so I have spent a lot of time with those books and movies. I grew up with Betsy Byars, Ruth Chew, Judy Blume, Lois Lowry (Anastasia Krupnik!), Rumer Godden, Ellen Raskin. And of course, I love the classic New York kid books: From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Harriet the Spy and The Long Secret. 

I didn't differentiate between books for grown-ups and books for kids when I was younger, and I still don't. I also read widely across genres. There are so many writers I read as soon as they have a new book, and re-read: George Saunders, Margaret Atwood, Kate Atkinson, Alice Munro, Lydia Millet, Sarah Ruhl, Tessa Hadley, Mick Herron, Martha Wells, Donald Westlake, and that's off the top of my head--if I look at my shelves or the list of the books I've read, I'll never stop. 

I'm prone to rabbit holes. When I was writing All the Greys, I saw art at least once a week, and read a lot of memoir by artists, along with histories of the scene in SoHo. Right now, I'm about to have my first garden ever, so I'm reading a lot of beautiful nonfiction about the natural world. Many of them are month-by-month because gardening tasks are so seasonal--it's a lovely structure.

I love memoir for the details, poetry for the language, mystery for plot and atmosphere, graphic novels for the art, science-fiction and fantasy for the world-building. . . . 

All the Greys on Greene Street is set in 1981 New York City, where artists live in SoHo lofts and children roam free. What inspired the setting and story behind this middle grade novel?

Laura’s workspace: The poem “I want a President” is by the artist Zoe Leonard. The Immaculate Heart College art department rules are by Sister Corita Kent. The diamond cutter’s sutra excerpt is by the textile artist Ines Sun. The NY is Book Country poster is by Ian Falconer. The postcard is a self portrait by David Wojnarowicz. Image courtesy of Laura Tucker.

I was a New York City kid; I married a New York City kid, and raised a New York City kid. So I wanted to write a book about city kids. I also wanted to write a book about an artist growing up in a place where being an artist was completely understood and supported--normal.  

While SoHo is different now than it was in my main character Olympia's time (there's a lot of high-end shopping there now,) there are still echoes of its history as a place where artists could find cheap places to work and to live (often illegally.) The lofts themselves--huge, industrial, flooded with natural light--influenced the work artists made there. And there was so much cross-pollination--dancers collaborating with sculptors and fashion designers, painters making portraits of friends who happened to be poets and playwrights. Artistically, it was a really exciting place to be in the seventies and early eighties. 

Do you have a specific place set aside for writing?

Not really. Have laptop, can work pretty much anywhere. I do like my office, but often end up on the couch. 

What advice would you give to aspiring children's book writers?  

I can only say what helps me! I read a lot, widely and weirdly. I write a lot, and throw a lot of it out. I edit compulsively, in a way that would seem insane if you were tracking the keystrokes. And I was very lucky to find a group of writers who gave me careful, generous, thoughtful feedback, even while I was learning a lot from reading their own works-in-progress. 

For news on Laura Tucker’s current and upcoming books, visit her on her website and read All the Greys on Greene Street.

Interview with Gabriella Crivilare (Gabry!)

I’m reminded of my summers at Hollins whenever the weather gets warmer. Not too long ago, I was clutching my acceptance letter into the Graduate Programs in Children’s Literature and Illustration. I didn’t know I’d soon meet many wonderful friends during that first summer semester, which brings me to my dear friend and this month’s guest, Gabry.

Meet Gabry, repping Hollins (image courtesy of Gabriella Crivilare).

When a bunch of us first started our Hollins journey in 2018, I was so afraid to meet new people. Thanks to Gabry and other second and third year students, us program newbies were immediately welcomed into Hollins. Our daytimes were filled with classes and special author and illustrator visits. At night, we watched movies and explored all the beauty the Blue Ridge Mountains had to offer on free weekends. Summer school felt more like summer camp. Gabry and a fellow second-year student, Maleeha, were the chairs for my very first Francelia Butler Conference in Children’s Literature. They were professional and personable, the perfect hostesses for a kid lit conference. A fantastic cosplayer with incredible makeup skills (see her instagram), Gabry recently received a literary agent, a huge feat for a recent graduate.

My first Hollins summer is one I’ll always remember, and that’s in part to the likes of Gabry and her kindness. Her welcoming presence made me feel less afraid to start something new. Read on to hear more about Gabry’s background and upcoming successes.

Do you have any favorite writers in the world of children’s literature?

I feel as if there’s such an eclectic mix of writers that make up my favorites! And there are definitely too many authors I admire to list here, so I’m going to limit myself to four. More nostalgic favorites from my own childhood include Edith Pattou, who wrote the fairytale retelling East, and Shannon Hale of Princess Academy fame. (At least, that’s what makes her famous to me!) Both of them have exerted a great deal of influence on the kind of fantasy I like to write and the kind of narratives I like to explore. When it comes to the past few years, I’ve really fallen for the work of Catherine Bakewell, who wrote We Are the Song and Flowerheart, and Esme Symes-Smith, the creator of the Sir Callie series. Callie is such an amazing, tenacious character, and their fight to be who they are and against the bigotry in their kingdom blew me away. I’m so looking forward to book two! And Flowerheart really got to me with the choice to explore connections between magic and mental health.

What was your process behind nabbing a literary agent?

Gabry’s workspace (image courtesy of Gabriella Crivilare).

Right off the bat, I have to say that that I was incredibly lucky in regards to my querying process and privileged to have the outcome that I did. But, I built myself a spreadsheet to track the requirements of each agent I queried (if they had a QueryManager link, whether or not they wanted a synopsis, how many sample pages they allowed) and built that list gradually through a lot of MSWL (Manuscript Wish List) research. I started sending my work out in August of 2020, and continued to query for a little over a year, though checking back there was a fairly large gap in the spring and summer of 2021. At one point, Victoria -the agent I read for and who represents me now - said I could send my manuscript to her. So of course I jumped at the opportunity, thinking that it would be really great to have her insight about what changes might need to be made and who might potentially be open to a story like mine. But as time progressed, I started fantasizing about how amazing it would be if she actually offered to.

You attended Hollins University in Virginia for your M.F.A. in Children’s Literature. How has receiving this degree impacted your writing career?

Aside from how valuable I found the workshop experience, the greatest impact Hollins has had on my writing career so far is really in terms of the community, opportunities, and connections it provides. Where else are you going to find a dormmate who will help you restructure your plot by encouraging you to print it out, cut out each scene, and rearrange it bit by bit with additional feedback? Also, having that access to the professionals that the program brings in, to be able to pick their brains and learn more about the business side of the industry, has been so beneficial. Especially because these presentations can often lead to conversations that clue you into an interest you didn’t know you had! Who knows, maybe you’re equally passionate about championing other writers’ projects? And finally, if I had put aside my academic interest in children’s literature and not attended Hollins, I wouldn’t have had Hillary Homzie as a professor in my very first class. And, as she introduced me to Victoria, I probably would not be answering this question right now.

What inspires you in your writing?

Some of Gabry’s favorite books (image courtesy of Gabriella Crivilare).

Initial sparks usually come to me with some little niche interest I have at the moment, combined with a sort of vibe or atmosphere and a weird comp mashup. Plot is way tougher for me than concept, so finding ways to work those elements into the actual narrative is vital to keep me engaged when I’m having trouble with things like logic and motivation! Also, this is going to sound so silly, but I took one of those ubiquitous internet quizzes a while ago, and the topic was something like “What fuels your creativity?” and my result was along the lines of “tribute.” And pretty quickly, I realized how true that is. There are little bits of pieces of media I love in everything I write, and the desire to be in conversation with those stories and create work that evokes the same emotions in myself and others is really what drives me. That feeling I get when I see the binary sunset? If you get even a fraction of that longing from my writing, it’s mission accomplished.

Keep up with Gabry on her website, gabriellacrivilare.wordpress.com, and follow her on instagram @harpyella.

The Bolt After it Strikes My Ear

Light in its infinite loop draws me in to 

soundscapes. I escape and vanish into 

what must be falling in love 

or finding a muse.

I have nothing to lose and all the passion to

gain to open my heart and brain my instinct to. 

Does anyone else taste the same lightning or feel the same prism of reflected 

colors on their face? Surely I am not basking in the moon and road and rumors on my own. 

Do other hands lift up from their place on the rug and draw circles on the ceiling in an unlit room? Do you hear the same gold in waves reaching your neurons? 

What I mean is this: did you move the same way after listening to The Dark Side of the Moon?

Pausing in the Gentle Cold

January, usually a cold, quiet month, hasn’t been that cold, but I’ve been so tired. Through the slog, I managed a weekend train trip visit to my friends and co-workers back in Roanoke, Virginia. A bolt of creative inspiration struck me and I started a new passion project, a middle grade manuscript that’s as personal as it is fun to write for me. The Philadelphia Eagles are going to Super Bowl LVII and my favorite tennis player won the 2023 Australian Open, his 22nd title.

Work has me busy with proposals. On weekends, my best friend and I gallivant to new coffee shops. My gym, a treasured athletic club and piece of my hometown that’s been around since the 80s, is closing. I’ve been getting up at 6am every day to squeeze in a workout before it’s finally shut down. I joined Goodreads and already completed my local library’s winter reading challenge. The pleasant, monotonous, steady, and robust winter days go on.

I desire more quiet and rest. Screen time during and after the workday does not help my already lackluster sleep schedule. My fingers hurt from typing so much. I’m recalling my January as a reminder to pause, not to reflect or think any further, but simply for the sake of pausing.

January, a month of the gentle cold, has been a strange battle between rest and running. Pausing is a necessity; I need a bit of peace throughout my work-filled days by the computer. I need to stop feeling so tired. Winter is a reminder that even flora and fauna need quiet. I walk in the winter to see leafless trees teeming with squirrels and streetlights flicker on, to get away from my computer and phone and to pause.

Expectations and Unpredictable natures of 2022

After not one, not two, not even three but four interviews, I received a new full-time job in content marketing earlier last year, a role I very much like. In the spring, I graduated with my M.F.A. at Hollins University. I dogsat for many families. I visited a friend in Savannah, GA. A lot happened to me this past year, much more than I saw coming.

I won tickets to three concerts all from the same radio station.

Dave Matthews Band - Jiffy Lube Live, VA in June

Death Cab for Cutie - The Anthem, Washington D.C. in September

The Killers - National Arena, Washington D.C. in October

Each concert was fantastic, and it took me the opportunity to see him in person for me to conclude that I may in fact love Brandon Flowers.

My ride, a beloved hand-me-down, went kaput leading to my first car purchase, a 2014 Honda CR-V. I reunited with some grad school friends for the first time since the pandemic.

I got back into gaming with Cuphead. I’m no gamer (with the exception of Super Smash and a few Gamecube favorites from my childhood), more so a game appreciator, and Cuphead is a visual feast for the eyes for anyone who admires the origins of animation. Accompanied by a Netflix show, the rubberhose characters moving frame-by-frame in a hand-painted world reminds me how style can really impact art. And the soundtrack for the both the game and the show, a swinging mix of jazz and ragtime, are fantastic. Now I want to write a Depression-era middle grade novel while listening to some Cab Calloway.

My sister got married in Charleston, SC on a breezy November evening. Sarah and Griff have been engaged for two years, but to my surprise, her shower, bachelorette, and wedding itself all went by in the blink of an eye. All the planning and behind the scenes work on her marital preparations seemed to take a lot of time, but again, I’m amazed at how fast it all went by. In fact, I’m shocked at how fast the year passed. I remember reading a murder mystery on a sunny, snowy January day like it was yesterday.

I finally joined Goodreads at my co-worker’s suggestion as a better way to log my many days of reading. I reflected on where I am in my life. I listened to a lot of music. I’ wrote poems on moonlit walks.

This past year I experienced many twists and turns. But I fulfilled goals and expectations. I was a grad school graduate, a Maid of Honor, a concert ticket winner, a bibliophile, a Phanatic (for the Phillies and their incredible playoff run). I don’t know what next year will hold for me, as much as I want to know what’s in store. I’m reminded of a verse I memorized this summer after a battle of insomniac worry for where I’m going next in the new year.

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” - Jeremiah 29:11.

For the Love of Chai

Coffee is a potent potable that I do not and should not drink. Thanks to a record of headaches and migraines at the expense of caffeine on my paternal side, I must watch my daily chocolate intake. I don’t even bother with coffee, so I avoid it like something you’re supposed to avoid.

Of course, whenever the winter months roll around and I see folks sipping white chocolate mochas, pumpkin spice lattes, and other toasty beverages bubbling like sugary, frothy tempests, I feel left out. And in the office, I feel like I’m missing something when my co-workers show up to meetings with their mugs of drip coffee or their regular Starbucks order, desk companions that, to me, ooze professionalism. In warm months, my peers sip on cold brews and iced coffees to keep themselves afloat. Coffee is the drink of grown-ups, more so than alcohol. Consisting of caffeine, it’s the most widely used drug. Hot chocolate doesn’t seem to cut it, and I really only consume it during the winter. But I discovered a drink that has changed the game for this coffee-stripped young professional.

A family trip to Chicago introduced me to this magical coffee substitute when, in the biting midwestern chill, we all stopped at a Dunkin’ for drinks that would most likely serve as hand warmers. To combat the cold and prevent me from headache-induced misery courtesy of ordering an over-caffeinated coffee libation, my mom ordered me a vanilla-flavored mystery. This enigma, I’d soon find out, was known as The Chai Tea Latte - created by boiling black tea and steeping it in foamed milk with a mixture of aromatic herbs and spices. The drink would be the one I’d desperately seek in coffeeshops. The one to define my adult self. At last I had an acceptable beverage that was my ticket into properly joining the ranks of my fellow bibliophiles. Authors and readers, hipsters and music-lovers sip fancy potables in dim indie coffee joints, venues I’ve long avoided due to my inability to drink coffee. I could finally be one of them now that I found my substitute.

I say I desperately sought The Chai Tea Latte because not every coffeeshop I’ve been to has a good one. Some are too spicy with conflicting herbs, too sweet or watery or on the opposite side, too milky with not enough flavor. My journey to find the right one turned into a great odyssey, and I have found some local places to get the proper, the delicious and the highly addictive Chai Tea Latte.

I say highly addictive because I have come to need this drink at least two or three or four times a week. As much as I love cooking and baking, I cannot create a good enough version of this warm potation, so to feed my need for tea and milk and herb harmony, I attend The Filling Station in Sparks Glencoe, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it type roadside coffeehouse that slings mad pumpkin spice Chai Tea Lattes on my way to work. For closer local fare, it’s Newberry Cafe in my downtown main street hub. This bakery blows it out of the water, and their version of The Chai Tea Latte has seasonal brews ranging from eggnog and gingerbread to butterbeer (whatever that is) and lavender. My grad school in Virginia housed the best barista I know - Ena from Greenberry’s makes one of the best Chai Tea Lattes I’ve ever tasted. I’ve encountered other standouts, and in my travels, I make an effort to support local. As great as my initial sip from Dunkin’ was, Chai Tea Lattes just taste so much better from independent makers.

A magical mystery tour of a sip, whenever I drink down that just right kind of Chai Tea Latte, I’m reminded of so many simple joys that life has to offer. I’m swimming in books, good art, well-crafted pieces of music that strike a balance of having meaningful lyrics and beautiful instrumentals. I’m in the coffeeshop, adulthood, work from 9-5 headspace with my cup in hand, and being in the “coffee or viable substitute” club is a perk to finding love in a latte.

Interview with Stephanie Graegin

Please welcome Stephanie Graegin to the stage! Photo courtesy of Stephanie Graegin.

Between winning concert tickets to see Death Cab for Cutie late last month and then The Killers earlier this month, I’d say this fall is a winning season. Seeing Brandon Flowers’ beautiful smile in person felt like a golden ticket in itself. And those aren’t the only things I won this fortunate autumn.

When author/illustrator Stephanie Graegin messaged me on Instagram the day after the Death Cab concert that I won a giveaway of her latest picture book, The Long Ride Home, I knew I had to go for an interview. She agreed and I felt like I was winning all over again. The mind behind Fern and Otto, Little Fox in the Forest, and many more picture book gems, Stephanie Graegin first caught my eye at my local library. I adore her whimsical animal worlds and incredible sense of light and shadow. She is not only gifted with her cute characters - from a variety of animals to rosy-cheeked children - her environments are stunning. The cityscapes and neighborhood streets she draws look lived-in and warm. I can’t wrap my head around her level of detail. Pick up any one of her picture books and see what I mean.

How did you begin your journey in the world of children's literature?

A cozy studio space. Photo courtesy of Stephanie Graegin.

 I’ve always loved picture books, I've been creating little books since I was in elementary school. At the age of eight, I won an Indiana Young Author award for a book I made about a magical beaver baseball team. That experience made me believe that I could be a ‘real’ author or illustrator some day. In college, I studied fine art at The Maryland Institute College of Art, where I fell in love with printmaking and made a lot of artist’s books. It wasn’t until after grad school at Pratt Institute (I have a Masters in Printmaking) that I really decided to fully pursue children's books. But I quickly learned my artwork wasn’t quite right yet for children’s illustration. I spent several years making drawings and watercolors, with a children’s book portfolio in mind. A major breakthrough came when I switched materials. As someone who was smitten with the work of Edward Gorey, I had been stubbornly using black ink and it really wasn’t the right material for me. One day I was doodling in pencil, and something clicked and my characters came to life. I made new work using pencil and a mix of digital coloring. I ended up making little handmade booklets with artwork in my new style, and sent those out to art directors and editors. By some luck, I received positive responses and my career slowly began. Around this same time in 2011, Writers House Literary Agent Steven Malk saw my work on Nate Williams’s illustration blog (IllustrationMundo) and reached out to me, and I started working with him. I feel very fortunate to have illustrated over two dozen children's books since then, and to have written three.

What is your favorite color to include in your illustrations?

 I go through phases with colors depending on the season and feel of a book, but robin’s egg blue has always been a favorite, along with cadmium yellow and sepias. 

Some studio trinkets and keepsakes. Photo courtesy of Stephanie Graegin.

Will you describe your illustrative process? 

 It’s evolved over the years, it started as a mix of pencil drawing, with layers of crayon and watercolor textures, and then that was assembled and colored in Photoshop. As digital tools have gotten better and better, I often draw with an Apple pencil on an iPad using the program Adobe Fresco and then complete the coloring in Adobe Photoshop. I use brushes I’ve made in Photoshop from scanning in textures of crayon, pencil, and watercolor. But I still do a lot of drawing with just a regular pencil and a sketchbook. 

Do you have any influences or favorite artists that have impacted your style?

 There are so many! As a kid I loved Richard Scarry, Arnold Lobel, James Marshall, Beatrix Potter, Ernest Shepard, Lane Smith, Hollie Hobby, Edward Gorey, and Ed Emberely. I spent countless hours drawing from Ed Emberely’s drawing books, I’m sure that has had an everlasting influence on my art. 

Children’s book artists that I find inspiring today are Renata Liwska, Sophie Blackall, Isabel Arsenault, Marla Frazee, Olivier Tallec, Marianne Dubac, Benji Davies, Akiko Miyakoshi, and Zachariah OHora, to name a few…

Stephanie’s beautiful, brimming bookshelf. Photo courtesy of Stephanie Graegin.

Your illustrations depict sweet animal worlds and cozy neighborhoods. What other subjects do you enjoy illustrating? 

I always love drawing animal worlds best, especially ones in forests, but I also enjoy drawing cities. I love drawing places where you can add a lot of fun details, little interesting shops, and a variety of people and creatures, night scenes with lit up windows and big crowds. I also love drawing the sea, boats, and beautiful landscapes. But really, I enjoy drawing anything that I can add a magical feel to.

Do you have any advice for aspiring children's book author-illustrators?

Spend a lot of time studying the craft. Read hundreds of picture books, especially modern day ones. Draw what inspires you, if you love what you draw it will show. Children's books are a difficult business to break into, you have to be stubborn and keep trying, keep revising, and keep getting better at the craft of it. It’s a lifelong process, I know I’m still learning every day. 

Visit Stephanie Graegin’s whimsical world and check out her latest picture book, The Long Ride Home. Follow her Instagram, @sgraegin, for day-to-day sketches and news.

Poem While On a Lake

The Algae’s Always Greener

Did she dream? 

                    Yes

                     and so often she could not

                     distinguish her dreams from                             

reality. 

Did she swim? 

                     Many moons she found herself 

                      in an empty river 

                      and there were a few pontoons 

                      and kayaks with waving arms. 

What about the algae? 

                      It was green, so green on the 

                      other side of the lake’s inlet. 

Where did she live? 

                      In the water with long hair 

                      and dizziness from drinking too much moonshine. 

What about the bridges? 

                       She barely cleared them but if it was necessary she made do. 

And the colors? 

                        Like I said, the Algae’s Always Greener and the night sweats

a little sweeter when there’s no one to touch the cloudless sky.

Summer Replay

It’s late August and while the calendar suggests summer’s looming end, the mid-Atlantic humidity and pool of sweat on my shirt from this morning’s jog prove that the season is not yet finished. But what a summer it’s been so far.

Do Teresa and I look like sisters?

I graduated from Hollins with my M.F.A. in Children’s Book Writing and Illustrating, my parents and grandparents present as I crossed the stage under the shade of a beautiful May afternoon. A week later, I visited Teresa, a dear grad school friend in Savannah, Georgia, then drove to Charleston, South Carolina to close out the Memorial Day holiday with my sister and fiancée.

June welcomed me with a surprise: I won a pair of tickets to see Dave Matthews Band in Bristow, Virginia from a radio contest. Another grad school friend, Sara, tagged along with me. We met me at our Airbnb in Northern Virginia, grabbed Lebanese dinner, and enjoyed DMB in the waning daylight, night sky, and eventual rain. The night shower eventually stopped, and Dave immediately sang “Virginia in the Rain” to the delight of the crowd.

My lovely job brought me to the American Library Association Conference in Washington, D.C. I met Ada, a friend and roommate from undergrad for lunch before going to the convention center and manning my company’s booth. I got books and met famed kid lit author-illustrator duo Jon Klassen and Mac Barnett. Our company sat at a rooftop bar later that evening for pizza and mezze al fresco. I drove home on 95 in the dark summer night, Ted Nugent’s Stranglehold on full blast with the windows down. It was wonderful.

I want to see DMB again, they were great.

In July, I visited my friends at Hollins University for a weekend in Roanoke. We crammed in a day downtown and stayed up until 2am both nights. It took me a week to recover.

My mom’s beloved Honda Pilot broke down in late July and I had to buy a new car. I found a silver 2014 Honda Pilot, a sleek, compact, absolute joy-ride. It can play radio, Bluetooth, and CDs. I love this SUV with my whole heart.

I read a lot. Summer reading means many trips to the library; here’s a lightning round of my best books of the season:

The Girls in the Stilt House by Kelly Mustian

The Road to After by Rebekah Lowell

Good Eggs by Rebecca Harriman

Cuphead comics Volumes 1 and 2 by Zack Keller (more on Cuphead later)

Under the Whispering Door by TJ Klune

Stolen by Lucy Christopher

A Bird Will Soar by Allison Green Myers

Summer also means many sloppy kisses and furry hugs. Between the last week of July and the first week of August, I dogsat for four families, a total of seven dogs: Bentley and Bailey, the former a young bernadoodle and the latter an older mini poodle, Mo, a zealous goldendoodle puppy, Weezie and Bailey, a pair of boxer siblings from the same litter, and Charlie and Louie, my neighbor’s gentle senior dogs, a goldendoodle and Yorkie mutt. Each dogsitting adventure is a story in itself.

Sweet Bentley wants my attention.

My sister’s Bachelorette took place in mid August. We rented a big Airbnb in Georgetown, D.C. After a Friday night of tapas and plenty of champagne, Saturday morning, we bused to Loudoun County, Virginia, mid-Atlantic wine country. I’m familiar with this area’s incredible wineries. In grad school, my friends and I would sacrifice a day’s drive in the car just to get to scenic views and delicious flights. We couldn’t have asked for better weather for Saturday’s wine tour and photo shoot in the vineyards. It was a beautiful weekend.

And I’m still sipping the remnants of our Bachelorette splurges, a reminder of golden afternoons in the summer sun with open books, singing cicadas, and the peculiar fondess I feel when the smell of Coppertone hits my nose.

My Mom's Shiny, Silver Pilot

Christmas morning, 2004. The family room floor was a dizzying display of torn wrapping paper, toys, clothes, and the dumped contents from our stockings. My mom, on the couch, sat back while my dad produced a set of keys. Car keys. “Where is it?” she asked, eyes wide. “In the front,” he said.

There in the driveway it stood with a big red bow adorning the hood. A new, shiny, silver Honda Pilot. The flush red of the bow popped against the backdrop of snowy neighborhood lawns. The silver doors glinted in the morning light. It was beautiful. My mom’s shiny, silver Pilot was just beginning its journey as a Piazza family staple.

It took us to visit family in Pennsylvania on dozens of trips. For my sister’s and my many soccer and lacrosse games, it sat in the parking lot amongst the many mommy mobiles. Its primary quarters were on the left side of the garage, where it slept peacefully in front of the lawnmower, shovels, and other outside equipment. While it remained mostly safe from harm, time did wear on, and its seats and brake pads bored signs of love, much like the Velveteen Rabbit. In 2020, my dad replaced my mom’s beloved vehicle with the latest model, and I took the shiny, silver Pilot to graduate school. It carried me home for breaks on long car rides in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Broken keys, flat tires, dead batteries, tight parking spots, tighter carpools, ditches, hail, squeaky windshield wipers, muddy floormats, fur-so much fur, the shiny, silver Pilot weathered many storms. And it met every challenge head on with the same tough spirit my mom has.

Yesterday, the shiny, silver Pilot was sold to a new driver. It backed out of our driveway and drove down Saddleback Way one last time. As anticlimactic as our goodbye was, I can’t think of a more poetic sendoff. My mom’s Honda Pilot came into the Piazza family with joyous celebration on a cherished Christmas morning. It left on an overcast, July afternoon. I checked the odometer before it left. The shiny, silver Pilot had driven over 209,000 miles. And it’s memories live in every one of them.