Gardens—Nature, Science, and Surprises 0

By Ranida T. McKneally

A peculiar thing happened in our garden last summer. My family and I are avid composters, and adding to the compost pile had become a daily habit. Throughout the winter and spring, our banana peels, eggshells, and other kitchen scraps fed the scores of soil microbes and other organisms that break down organic matter—nature’s recyclers. As the days grew longer and warmer, bits of green began to poke out from the dark, heavy heap. First tender and tiny, the leaves grew. And grew…until they covered the entire compost bin (a homely, slatted wooden structure built from leftover fencing). “How handy!” I thought, grateful for the eye-pleasing green cover that disguised the utilitarian structure situated a bit too close to the front gate and public attention.

The mystery plant starting to take over the compost bin.

The identity of the unplanned compost plant was yet to be confirmed. It looked like a squash, for sure, with its broad, lobed leaves. But what kind? What squashes had we eaten the year before and tossed into the compost?

Soon, bright yellow, trumpet-shaped flowers appeared.

The flower had the color and shape typical of squash.

By then the giant leaves had grown out of the compost bin and over the gate, spilling into the front yard.

Over the fence!

What was this monster plant? We were amused. Apparently, so were our neighbors. People strolling by would often pause to wonder at the giant green thing taking over our property. We couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride. Though we could not claim to possess green thumbs, the luscious growth was a testament to the richness of our compost. What had started out as slimy food waste had transformed into beautiful, dark, earthy matter filled with nutrients that allowed plant growth to take off.

As summer wore on, the vines bore fruit and continued to creep farther along, eventually reaching the sidewalk.

The unintended ground cover in the front yard.

At one point, the plant’s tendrils even started to ensnare our neighbor’s car while they were on vacation. Yikes!

Parked cars, beware!

At last, the identity of the accidental plant was revealed. Hidden under the giant leaves were very big fruits (botanically speaking, squashes are fruits), pale greyish blue in color with bumps all over. They were Blue Hubbards.

A Blue Hubbard!

The Blue Hubbard squash is a variety of hard-rind winter squash, Cucurbita maxima, a species that includes some of the largest pumpkins in the world. (Think gargantuan state fair–worthy pumpkins.) Our family loves to try new foods, and is particularly tempted by the array of colors, shapes, and sizes of the produce found at farmers' markets. Blue Hubbard, of course! We had carried one home the year before; we were intrigued by the squash’s bumpiness and its unusual size and color, and inspired the by farmer’s enthusiastic, mouthwatering description of its sweet tastiness in pumpkin pie. It has become our pumpkin pie standard.

The fall harvest was astounding. Our giant compost monster had produced seven enormous squashes, each weighing over 20 pounds!

Huge yields.

Our friendly garden Squash-o-saur. Diet: compost.

For a household that loves to plant things but is not necessarily good at keeping them from turning brown and crispy, that’s a lot of squash—and pie!

“Pumpkin” pie with Blue Hubbard squash—yum!

For me, gardens—and farms and orchards—are a wonderful way to introduce young children to nature, science, food, and healthy eating. Not only are the results good to eat, but they serve as a source of wonder, too. Roots, stems, and leaves are abuzz with insects and other critters to be discovered by little naturalists digging around in the dirt. There are also many life processes to be observed as leaves unfurl and blossoms open right before their eyes. Science lessons abound: Why are fruits so colorful? Why are so many vegetables green? What’s the difference between a fruit and a vegetable? Why do I have to eat my vegetables, anyway? What else makes up a healthy meal? These are just some of the questions addressed in Our Food: A Healthy Serving of Science and Poems, and represent only the beginning of limitless inquiry into the natural world. Gardens provide continuous inspiration as tiny seedlings grow and develop—sometimes into big, magnificent surprises.

Our Food: A Healthy Serving of Science and Poems. Text copyright © 2016 by Grace Lin and Ranida T. McKneally. Illustrations copyright © 2016 by Grace Zong. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

 Ranida T. McKneally also co-authored Our Seasons with Grace Lin. She lives in Medford, Massachusetts, near many wonderful farmers' markets, farms, and orchards.SaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSave

Happy 10th Birthday, Lola! 0

By Anna McQuinn

After I decided to take a break from publishing in 2003 (I’d been Publisher of my own list for the previous six years prior to a takeover), I returned to working directly with children. I was really lucky to get an almost full-time position with Sure Start (an organization like Head Start) in Acton in West London, and I was tasked with reaching out to the community and encouraging families to join and use the library. Acton has a particularly diverse community and in some areas quite a deprived one, and my organization felt that the community was not accessing enough of the library services.

To achieve this, I started up a Family Book Group (we started each session with the choice of a very easy craft, puzzles, or small play, then tidied up for some songs and rhymes). Then I went about the community visiting baby clinics, drop-in clinics, free milk days, and play groups to let families know about the library. However, I discovered that many of the arguments around books and very young children are not yet won.

Families Anna worked with at the library.

Having worked in children’s publishing for almost twenty years, I thought that everyone knew how important it is to read with young children. However, when I started doing outreach, I realized that I had to make these arguments all over again; moms had to be persuaded that it was not silly to read a book to a toddler who can’t read; parents had to be persuaded that it was appropriate to bring a little child into a library and that they would be welcome and find things to do; moms had to be reassured that if their baby made a noise in the library, that would be okay…

Anna's library gang, 2012.

So, like Lola herself who solves all of life’s problems with a book, I decided to write a simple story about a little girl who goes to the library—to show her choosing books, to show story time and rhyme time, and to show her mommy read to her. I feel so lucky that Charlesbridge saw the potential of this simple little story and decided to publish it—Lola at the Library came out in 2006, ten years ago this year!

Lola at the Library. Text copyright © 2006 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2006 by Rosalind Beardshaw. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

Lola en la biblioteca. Text copyright © 2008 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2008 by Rosalind Beardshaw. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

People often ask me why I decided to make Lola a little girl of African heritage. In fact for me, there was no big decision—I don’t think there needs to be some special reason to make a child of color the star of a story. On the contrary, I would say “Why not?!”

I strongly believe that the range of books on offer are not diverse enough. And, I believe that we can’t fix this if we wait around for some special reason to feature a child of color in a story. Folktales are beautiful and books which deal with issues are necessary, but I think if you are three and a half, don’t you ache to see someone just like you in a story? So when I had the thought, “Could Lola be a little girl of color?” I immediately felt, “Why not?!”

Lola was of course much loved by librarians when she first appeared—how could any book enthusiast resist this tiny book-loving hero? As her story developed, (Daddy appeared in the second title and she got a new baby brother, Leo, in the next, who now has his own series for even younger readers) the series found a wider audience—though booklovers are always her biggest fans.

Lola Loves Stories. Text copyright © 2010 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2010 by Rosalind Beardshaw. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

A Lola le encantan los cuentos. Text copyright © 2012 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2012 by Rosalind Beardshaw. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

Lola Reads to Leo. Text copyright © 2012 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2012 by Rosalind Beardshaw. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

Lola le lee al pequeno Leo. Text copyright © 2013 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Rosalind Beardshaw. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

Leo Loves Baby Time. Text copyright © 2014 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2014 by Ruth Hearson. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

A Leo le gusta Bebelandia. Text copyright © 2015 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2015 by Ruth Hearson. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

Leo Can Swim. Text copyright © 2016 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2016 by Ruth Hearson. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

Readers have also fallen in love with the illustrations, and I feel so privileged to work with two women who are as nice as they are talented: Rosalind Beardshaw (the Lola books) and Ruth Hearson (the Leo books).

Books and reading continue to be at the core of Lola's adventures—a story will fire her imagination and when faced with any difficulty, she always looks to a book to solve it: she dresses up and plays at being characters from the stories she reads; her mom uses stories to prepare her for the arrival of the new baby; she reads Mary Mary Quite Contrary in a book of garden poems and immediately wants to try to grow some flowers of her own (necessitating a trip to the library for some research of course), and in her next adventure publishing in Spring 2017, when she really really wants a cat, she proves to her mom that she’s ready to be responsible by finding out all about how to care for cats.

                                                        Coming in Spring 2017:

Lola Plants a Garden. Text copyright © 2014 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2014 by Rosalind Beardshaw. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

Lola planta un jardin. Text copyright © 2017 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2017 by Rosalind Beardshaw. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

Coming in Spring 2017:

Lola Gets a Cat. Text copyright © 2017 by Anna McQuinn. Illustrations copyright © 2017 by Rosalind Beardshaw. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

I think for that reason, book lovers everywhere see themselves in her stories. Certainly I see a lot of myself in her—I was one of those kids who read everything in sight (including the back of the cereal packet at breakfast and the back of the shampoo bottle while sitting on the loo). And I think this has contributed not just to her success but to her longevity. Lola at the Library is ten years in print this year and still going strong—and not just in the U.S., but in the UK, Netherlands, Denmark, Republic of Korea, South Africa, Brazil, and soon, Sweden!

The UK (left) and Ireland (right) versions of Lola at the Library.

The Netherlands (left) and Denmark (right) editions of Lola at the Library.

The Brazil (left) and Republic of Korea (right) translations of Lola at the Library.

You’ll see from the covers that Lola has different names around the globe. She began life as Lola and is still called Lola in the U.S.—in both English and Spanish editions. In the UK, not long before publication, Lauren Child’s book series, Charlie & Lola was acquired for children’s TV by the BBC. Afraid of possible confusion, I racked my brain for an alternative. She was called Layla for a time, but it’s funny, even though it’s just one letter more, it seemed too long for a little cutie like Lola. Then one day on my way to my library group, I heard a Somali mom beckon her little girl, “Lulu!” and there it was—a short name that still alliterated with Library! When the Dutch translation was underway, the publisher at Luister contacted me and asked if she could change the name. She too wanted it to alliterate with Library, which is bieb in Dutch, and she already had a proposal—Bibi. I thought it was perfect! In Denmark, they felt Lulu didn’t sound quite right and went for Luna, while in Brazil, they stuck with Lulu. And in the Republic of Korea—well, you tell me!

   Anna McQuinn has worked in children's books for more than twenty-five years as an editor, publisher, and writer. She has written more than twenty books for children, including the Lola series and books about Lola's baby brother, Leo. Anna lives in England.

Encouraging Inspiration and Invention: The WHOOSH! Backstory 0

From Chris Barton's Author's Note for Whoosh!: Lonnie Johnson's Super-Soaking Stream of Inventions

A Super Soaker uses a pump to compress the air found in its water reservoir, which puts pressure on the water. When the trigger is pulled, the pressurized water can escape and . . . WHOOSH! If you search the internet for "how Super Soakers work," you'll find a lot more about what goes on inside Lonnie Johnson's most famous invention.* But if you want to better understand how Lonnie Johnson himself works, then you'll put this book down, step away from the computer screen, and get permission to take something apart so you can see those kinds of goings-on for yourself. You might even start with a Super Soaker.

This book began with a lunchtime conversation I had with a couple of librarians in Texas. They had recently gone to a seminar where attendees were asked to draw a picture of a scientist. The most common image was of a guy who resembled Albert Einstein—lab coat, wild hair, white skin. The point of the exercise was to draw attention to the fact that scientists are more diverse than that. The lesson those librarians learned rubbed off on me, and by dinnertime I had found the story of the African American rocket scientist who invented the Super Soaker.

What was most appealing to me about Lonnie Johnson's story was the fact that it was still unfolding. He didn't just take his Super Soaker money and retire young. Instead, he directed it toward hands-on efforts to solve one of the most important engineering puzzles of our day. His mission? To efficiently harness heat energy—from the sun and other sources—in order to generate the electricity we need without polluting the planet.

I loved talking with Lonnie Johnson for this book. I have never laughed as hard during an interview as I did when we discussed his work on Linex and how his family "put up with" his efforts—or rather, how they encouraged him. It's no surprise that today, even as he continues his own work, Lonnie Johnson makes time to encourage the efforts of tomorrow's scientists and engineers.

I hope that this book will encourage them, too.

*Throughout his life Lonnie Johnson has sometimes worked alone and at other times as part of a team. The water gun that began in his bathroom got some help along the way from a builder of prototypes named Bruce D'Andrade. The names of both men appear on the original patent for what became known as the Super Soaker. However, Bruce's widow, Mary Ann. told me that her husband considered Lonnie to be the inventor.

  Chris Barton is the author of Whoosh!: Lonnie Johnson's Super-Soaking Stream of Inventions, illustrated by Don Tate, and Sibert Honor book The Day-Glo Brothers: The True Story of Bob and Joe Switzer's Bright Ideas and Brand-New Colors, illustrated by Tony Persiani.

Notes from The Fay B. Kaigler Children's Book Festival at the University of Southern Mississippi 0

By Megan Dowd Lambert

A Crow of His Own. Text copyright © 2015 by Megan Dowd Lambert. Illustrations copyright © 2015 by David Hyde Costello. Published by Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

I’ve attended many conferences. Sometimes I attend as a speaker or trainer, sometimes as an award committee member, and sometimes I go to conferences for my own professional development and learning. After publishing my first books with Charlesbridge last year (my debut picture book, A Crow of His Own illustrated by David Hyde Costello, and my book about picture books, Reading Picture Books with Children: How to Shake Up Storytime and Get Kids Talking About What They See), I’m just getting used to attending conferences as an author.

I’m liking it!

April 6-8 I attended the Fay B. Kaigler Children’s Book Festival at the Thad Cochran Center on the University of Southern Mississippi campus in Hattiesburg, where I accepted the Ezra Jack Keats New Writer Honor Award for A Crow of His Own. New Writer Medalist Don Tate, New Illustrator Medalist Phoebe Wahl, fellow New Writer Honor winner Julia Sarcone-Roach, and New Illustrator Honor winners Ryan T. Higgins and Rowboat Watkins were also recognized.

EJK Book Award Medalists and Honorees (from left to right): Julia Sarcone-Roach, Phoebe Wahl, Megan Dowd Lambert, Rowboat Watkins, Ryan T. Higgins, and Don Tate, #GetBehindPictureBooks.

What excellent company! For starters, I was the only person recognized who is not also a visual artist, so that kept me feeling mighty humble. I was delighted to meet all of these talented people and to hear about their work and their aspirations.

But, it was also a tough time to travel to Mississippi given the recent passage of House Bill 1523, which, in a nutshell, allows denial of services to LGBTQ+ people, based on religious convictions. I was still en route to Hattiesburg when author Lois Lowry gave her talk at the festival, but attendees told me that she spoke, in part, about her response to this law and another discriminatory measure in North Carolina. I was heartened by this news and also by the spirit in which it was shared with me. You see, I’d decided that I wanted to use my brief acceptance speech as a platform to put out a call for more representation of LGBTQ+ people in children’s literature (Crow features a gay couple, Farmer Kevin and Farmer Jay, as secondary characters) but I wanted to do so in a way that would be heart-opening and affirming, not scolding. I didn’t want to be like a houseguest who arrives and criticizes her host’s furniture, but I knew I couldn’t make myself at home at USM without saying something.

I had more time to think about my speech as I also attended other programs. A dinner hosted by Ellen Ruffin of the de Grummond Collection at USM gave me opportunities to chat with people from the Ezra Jack Keats Foundation, which is dedicated to “bringing the multicultural, creative spirit of Ezra Jack Keats into children’s lives and literature.” I then went to hear the Coleen Salley Storytelling Award Winner, Tim Tingle, and I was incredibly moved by his performance.

Tim Tingle’s award-winning storytelling.

One story he told was based on his award-winning book Crossing Bok Chitto. Another was based on his Oklahoma Choctaw family history and the Trail of Tears. Although they carried different emotional tones, both included scenes of people walking along paths, and in my mind’s eye I saw Keats’s Peter making a path of footprints through the snow, and I saw myself, and everyone else in the room, on our own respective paths in our lives. That night, I returned to my room, inspired, and revised my speech.

The next day I was very fortunate to hear Deborah Pope, Executive Director of The Ezra Jack Keats Foundation, deliver the Centennial Ezra Jack Keats Lecture. She gave a marvelous overview of his life and career, sharing anecdotes from her family’s personal relationship with him, brilliantly juxtaposing books from his career—I loved how she cited The Snowy Day and Clementina’s Cactus as perfect bookends to his life’s work: one a story about a boy and his mother in the winter at one end, and a story about a girl and her father in the desert at the other), and emphasizing his commitment to diversity in children’s literature. Pope said that when she asked why he decided to depict a Black child in The Snowy Day, Keats responded, “Because he should have been there all along.”

Dr. Deborah Pope delivering the Centennial Ezra Jack Keats Lecture.

Next, I was excited to hear Jacqueline Woodson speak as the recipient of the 2016 Southern Miss Medallion. She’s been a favorite author of mine ever since I read one of her early novels, I Hadn’t Meant to Tell You This, in 1996 as an undergraduate at Smith College in the children’s literature class that prompted me to enter this field. Since then, I’ve shared her books with my children, taught them in my classes, welcomed her to speak at Simmons College, and have learned so much from her. As I sat at USM that day, I was so thrilled that she was receiving yet another well-deserved award for her truth-telling, heart-opening, gorgeous, powerful work.

2016 Southern Miss Medallion recipient Jacqueline Woodson.

Several years ago when I published my first essay in The Horn Book Magazine, Jackie wrote me an email in response, just to reach out and cheer me on in my effort to reflect on trying to find books about diverse family constellations like mine. Like hers. Her generosity moved me then, and when she spoke at USM about mothering, writing, reading, resisting, and yes, the hateful law passed in Mississippi, she emboldened me to get up and give my speech.

I was especially moved by Don Tate’s speech, which included a story about meeting some of the descendants of the subject of his book, George Moses Horton.

Ezra Jack Keats New Writer Medalist Don Tate.

For my part, I was proud to be introduced by K.T. Horning, a hero of mine in our field, and a person I enjoyed getting to know a bit better at USM. Then, Lois Lowry presented the award to me, and I had a moment of remembering adoring her books as a kid and wanting to go back in time to say to my ten-year-old self: “Anastasia’s writer is going to give you an award. For writing.”

Like the others who spoke, I did offer thanks, but I ended up saying: “Please, let’s walk a path together toward a truly inclusive children’s literature that will embolden, delight, inspire, and free all children as they realize the birthright of growing up to be exactly who they are.” I talked about my own identity and about my family, and I talked about the need to move away from an all-straight world of children’s books as surely as we need to move away from an all-white world of children’s books. Read the whole speech here, if you’d like.

And after my speech, I sat down, feeling a little shaky, and Tim Tingle blew me a kiss, and Rita Williams-Garcia gave me two thumbs-up. And then people started coming up to me, there at the conference, and then at a book-signing, and there were hugs, and notes passed to me with coming out stories, and a grandmother buying my book for her grandbaby “because she has two mommies,” and a woman buying my book and getting me to sign it for a young child who is transgender and whose parents are loving her through others’ rejection and hatred.

The celebratory dinner in honor of Ezra Jack Keats’ 100th birthday was a final chance for us to toast one another’s joy in carrying on his legacy.

And I got to wear my fancy new shoes:

I was sorry to miss many of the other speakers while I was there (it was my first time away from my still-nursing one-year-old for more than a day, and I had to keep returning to my room to pump—no fun!), but I did get to say hello to Melissa Sweet, George O’Connor, and Joyce Sidman. When I got home, I had a lot of new books, and many thank-you notes to write. It was a powerful, humbling, thrilling few days, and I am so very…honored!

  Megan Dowd Labert is a senior lecturer in children's literature at Simmons College, where she earned her master's degree in children's literature after completing a B.A. at Smith College. She writes for The Horn Book Magazine; served on the 2011 Caldecott committee; and worked at the Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art for many years, leading Whole Book Approach storytimes and training others in her methods, which inspired the publication of her book Reading Picture Books with Children: How to Shake Up Storytime and Get Kids Talking about What They See.