When I visit a school, I'm always happy to see a classroom library in addition to the school library. Then I know the teacher understands the importance of books other than texts to the learning of children. When I see that at least some of those books are nonfiction trade books, I rejoice, because I see that the teacher realizes the special benefits of combining the learning of literacy skills with learning "cool facts." When children's innate curiosity about the world is stimulated, they want to learn more, which means reading more. When this happens, they can learn about curriculum subjects at the same time as they develop their reading skills. And when the teacher has a classroom library at her disposal, she can immediately provide the child with just the right book to satisfy his curiosity and keep him reading.
I'm especially aware of this effect because as a child, I wasn't in the least bit interested in "story books." I wanted to learn about "real" things, not read made-up stories. My favorite birthday or Christmas gift was a big fat book filled with color photos of butterflies or frogs and lots of information about the subject matter. The kinds of nonfiction trade books we write today were rare back then, so I sometimes I had to struggle to understand the text of the books, but I worked at it because I wanted to learn.
Because of my background and my convictions, I'm especially delighted to let you know that the final links have been formed to connect our database with our book supplier, Mackin. Now it's easy to purchase any of our books you want.
The process is simple. Just go to www.InkThinkTank.com to register. You don't have to be a teacher or librarian to use the system; anyone is welcome. After you register, you can sign on right away, click on "Use database," and proceed. Choose the grade level(s) and either search terms or curriculum needs from the detailed form and the system will generate a list of our books that meet your needs. You can choose those you want to purchase and order them or print out a list of books for your own reference or for your school librarian to purchase--it's simple.
As you are transferred over to Mackin’s website to place your order, you will most likely notice that your total order amount will change. This is because the prices on Mackin’s website are already discounted up to 35% off list price for your added benefit.
So even if you're not in the market for books, try out the new system and discover the resources that are now available so easily for us all.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
The Birth of a Blockhead
This month, I happily cede my space on this blog to a friend and former Scholastic colleague, Joe (Joseph) D'Agnese, in honor of the upcoming publication of his long-awaited picture book, Blockhead: The Life of Fibonacci (Holt BYR) on March 30. Enjoy!--Sue Macy
I have a confession to make. I don't belong here. I wanted to write a nonfiction book, honest, but something got the better of me: a divine being more powerful than us all.
In 1996, I was floundering with a manuscript on the life of the medieval mathematician Leonardo of Pisa, better known as Fibonacci. Leonardo helped convert Europe from I-II-III to 1-2-3, and bequeathed to us the world's most important nonentity: zero. Without it, we'd have no concept of place value. He is best known for a problem about multiplying rabbits, and the number pattern derived from it called the Fibonacci Sequence.
My dilemma was two-fold: First, Leonardo never knew that Fibonacci numbers recur in nature. Either I wrote about Fibonacci or I wrote about the Sequence. I had trouble unifying the two because it didn't happen that way.
Second, facts on Leonardo's life are sparce: He grew up in Pisa, sailed to Algeria to keep his merchant father's accounts, and later traveled the world studying mathematics. A few of his math tomes have survived, but they tell us little of his internal life. To write a picture book about him, one ought to know what made him tick.
What, I wondered, drives a person to chase numbers across the seas?
I was intrigued by Leonardo's Latin nickname, Bigollus. A funny name could make a good book title, but I couldn't find an authoritative translation. The Fibonacci Association offered an expert. I dreaded making that call. I'm not a mathematician. Indeed, who was I to write such a book?
Herta Taussig Freitag, a professor emeritus of mathematics, took the call in Virginia. She had a thick German accent, and proved to be a delightful, friendly, patient person who was tickled to be speaking with a (then) editor of a math magazine for children. She had wanted to be a teacher of mathematics since age 12. We had a long chat, and she reassured me that no one was satisfied with the translation of Fibonacci's nickname. It could mean "wanderer," "daydreamer," or "absent-minded." The words seemed in line with modern stereotypes of academics.
Days later, a note from the professor came in the mail. "As I have said over the phone," it read in part, "I feel like praising you and thanking you for doing such valuable service to our Goddess Mathesis!"
The note cheered me. Mathesis is a feminine divine creature said to inspire math scholars. She inspired me now: What if Fibonacci knew the secret of his famous numbers all along? What if this book was in fact his sly manifesto written only for children?
I've never told anyone the secret of my numbers, he could say, but now I've told you.
Having Fibonacci speak directly to the reader could make the book playful. Kids--not to mention a certain octogenarian academic--might like it. The manuscript came together nicely, and a year or so later, Holt offered to publish it. I called it Blockhead. An illustrator got to work on the sketches. I phoned the professor to tell her the news. It had been a while since our first talk, and her fragile voice spoke volumes. I rang off, apologizing for disturbing her. She and I never spoke again. She died in 2000 at the age of 91.
Soon after, the book became a problem project, dragging on for years with little progress. Finally, the illustrator quit, forcing us to start from scratch. All told, the book took fourteen years to come to fruition. I was frustrated and angry, but now consider myself fortunate. I had time to polish the prose, understand my hero, and learn about the woman who brought Mathesis to my doorstep.
Professor Freitag had earned a degree in mathematics in Austria, but fled her homeland after Hitler's invasion. For six years, she put her dream of teaching on hold while working as a domestic in England, angling for a visa to the USA. She finally came by freighter. She earned her PhD at Columbia University at age 45. She built the math department at Hollins University in Roanoke, and for decades inspired young women. She published papers well into her last decade, gave a "last lecture" for 20 years, and never missed a meeting of the Fibonacci Association. (This color photo of her was taken in Lucca, Italy, during a conference at Leonardo's hometown, Pisa.)
How can I complain about a book's long genesis? Imagine leaving your home forever, and putting your career on hold for six years while you worked as a chambermaid. How many of us would have given up? Yet she clung to her passion.
With time I came to understand him through her. A young boy boards a medieval ship and sets sail on a journey to a faraway land. A young woman steps on a freighter bound for New York with only $10 in her purse. I picture them both and know they are plying the seas toward something only they can hear: the ancient call of Mathesis.
I now believe that Mathesis speaks to us all. She is Passion, Inspiration, Imagination, and she strikes young and old alike. Hand a book to a child and you never know what will enchant them. With her voice in their ears, some kids chase math, others art, still others music, rocks, dance, nuclear physics, whatever. She goes by various names, but she is the same goddess.
You can download a bibliography of other Fibonacci books for kids and a Fibonacci scavenger hunt on the teacher page of Joe's website.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Good Writing is Memorable: Scientific Proof
When we posted the Ink Think Tank website we included a link to articles supporting our contention that literature enhances learning. Recently I was informed of another study that is quite convincing. I cite the original study below, but the results were succinctly summed up by Marjorie Scardino, a former editor of a Pulizer prize-winning newspaper and the first female CEO of a Fortune 100 company, when she gave the keynote address at an award dinner in 1998 at the Columbia University School of Journalism. She said in part:
Having looked for many years for a way to prove the obvious truth – that journalists tell it better, I finally have found, while rambling through the field of education, scientific proof:
About 10 years ago there was a study done – documented in education journals, in fact, though with little publicity – about how people best learn history.
The study went like this: three pairs of writers, each representing different training and therefore different styles, taught a history lesson to students in their own way, and the results were calculated.
The first pair was text linguists, people who are trained in linguistics and psychology and tend to take a structured, formal approach to writing and language. They think about writing, but they don’t teach people how to write.
The second pair was college composition teachers. They were trained in English or education. They tended to focus on the process one goes through in writing rather than the product produced. They did teach people to write, using this process approach.
The third pair was magazine editors, from Time magazine, in fact. Their training ranged generally through a liberal arts education, and they learned much of their craft on-the-job. They wrote for a living, and their job was to get the story told memorably … and quickly.
These three pairs were asked to re-write two passages from a U.S. history book to make them more readable, understandable and most of all memorable. To aid learning.
One of the passages dealt mainly with the end of the Korean war and problems over Formosa; and the other dealt with early American involvement in the Vietnam war.
The pairs were then matched with groups of [300] 16-17 year-old students, who were asked to judge their work. For each pair, one group read the original passages, and the other read the revisions. They then immediately wrote down everything they remembered from the passages, and the number of ideas they had retained were scored. Although I’m simplifying, I’m assured the methodology was kosher.
Without going through the intricacies of how each revision team worked, the results were stark:
1) Students reading the text linguists’ revision recalled 2% more than those reading the original versions, a trivial difference
2) Students reading the composition instructors’ revisions recalled 2% less than those reading the originals. Wrong direction, and also not significant.
3) Students reading the magazine editors’ versions, however, recalled 40% more than those reading the originals.
Needless to say, the academics were dismayed, and they wanted another chance. So the study was run again, with the same methodology.
The second time, with the benefit of learning what the successful versions had been, there was a little change for the academics, but not much. The basic results were exactly the same.
So while this could be an advertisement for the brilliance of journalists, it is probably better used as a reminder, to us as publishers as much as anyone, of the importance of presentation to substance. The power of clarity and style.
I believe the lesson is that Bagehot [the nineteenth century British financial and political essayist for whom the award being given at this dinner is named] wrote clearly about the most complex subjects because he had something to steer by. He related everything to the human condition, to being human. Common sense and a little bit of history informed him. Nothing more complicated.
"The knack in style," he said, "is to write like a human being. Some think they must be wise, some elaborate, some concise. But legibility is given to those who neglect these notions, and are willing to be themselves, to write their own thoughts in their own words, in the simplest words, in the words wherein they were thought in the first place."
The original study was done in 1988 by seven academics at five different universities. But science is science. Time doesn’t change the significance of the work of Galileo or Darwin. This study seems quite relevant to me over twenty years later. What amazes me is that there are editors and educators out there who still don’t get it. Good writing and high interest stories trump low reading levels and student apathy and enable higher performance on assessment tests. Duh!
Having looked for many years for a way to prove the obvious truth – that journalists tell it better, I finally have found, while rambling through the field of education, scientific proof:
About 10 years ago there was a study done – documented in education journals, in fact, though with little publicity – about how people best learn history.
The study went like this: three pairs of writers, each representing different training and therefore different styles, taught a history lesson to students in their own way, and the results were calculated.
The first pair was text linguists, people who are trained in linguistics and psychology and tend to take a structured, formal approach to writing and language. They think about writing, but they don’t teach people how to write.
The second pair was college composition teachers. They were trained in English or education. They tended to focus on the process one goes through in writing rather than the product produced. They did teach people to write, using this process approach.
The third pair was magazine editors, from Time magazine, in fact. Their training ranged generally through a liberal arts education, and they learned much of their craft on-the-job. They wrote for a living, and their job was to get the story told memorably … and quickly.
These three pairs were asked to re-write two passages from a U.S. history book to make them more readable, understandable and most of all memorable. To aid learning.
One of the passages dealt mainly with the end of the Korean war and problems over Formosa; and the other dealt with early American involvement in the Vietnam war.
The pairs were then matched with groups of [300] 16-17 year-old students, who were asked to judge their work. For each pair, one group read the original passages, and the other read the revisions. They then immediately wrote down everything they remembered from the passages, and the number of ideas they had retained were scored. Although I’m simplifying, I’m assured the methodology was kosher.
Without going through the intricacies of how each revision team worked, the results were stark:
1) Students reading the text linguists’ revision recalled 2% more than those reading the original versions, a trivial difference
2) Students reading the composition instructors’ revisions recalled 2% less than those reading the originals. Wrong direction, and also not significant.
3) Students reading the magazine editors’ versions, however, recalled 40% more than those reading the originals.
Needless to say, the academics were dismayed, and they wanted another chance. So the study was run again, with the same methodology.
The second time, with the benefit of learning what the successful versions had been, there was a little change for the academics, but not much. The basic results were exactly the same.
So while this could be an advertisement for the brilliance of journalists, it is probably better used as a reminder, to us as publishers as much as anyone, of the importance of presentation to substance. The power of clarity and style.
I believe the lesson is that Bagehot [the nineteenth century British financial and political essayist for whom the award being given at this dinner is named] wrote clearly about the most complex subjects because he had something to steer by. He related everything to the human condition, to being human. Common sense and a little bit of history informed him. Nothing more complicated.
"The knack in style," he said, "is to write like a human being. Some think they must be wise, some elaborate, some concise. But legibility is given to those who neglect these notions, and are willing to be themselves, to write their own thoughts in their own words, in the simplest words, in the words wherein they were thought in the first place."
The original study was done in 1988 by seven academics at five different universities. But science is science. Time doesn’t change the significance of the work of Galileo or Darwin. This study seems quite relevant to me over twenty years later. What amazes me is that there are editors and educators out there who still don’t get it. Good writing and high interest stories trump low reading levels and student apathy and enable higher performance on assessment tests. Duh!
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
On Looking good from the Waist up Whilst Wearing Running Pants and Tennis Shoes
Last week, my fellow I.N.K. blogger Vicki Cobb and I tried out something new—at least, it was new for me. We walked over to our very own computers in our very own home offices and put on a live joint videoconference with a group of curriculum specialists, media specialists, and techies down in Allendale, South Carolina.
Vicki lives in New York where it was about to snow. I live in Virginia where the side roads were still impassable from our own monster blizzard. But all the little video interconnections and sample slide shows and cameras and sound systems and live shots of the participants worked just fine—and we never even had to leave home. Besides that, the audience members could ask questions and make comments as though they were sitting next to us in the same room. It was all very laid back and friendly, and the audience was terrific too. (Fortunately, they couldn’t see our shoes.) How cool is that?
Our specific goal was to do what we often do for teachers when we go far far away from home; present a sampling of great ways to get kids so excited about learning that they can’t wait to come to class. Vicki introduced some amazing hands-on science experiments kids can try out in class using everyday items (think plastic bags, paper cups, and toilet paper)! I introduced some wild factoids about famous people from history that can wake up any kid, and I also revealed a few secret tricks teachers can use to help themselves become amazing storytellers—and nonfiction storytellers at that.
Our more general goal was to do a test run on an upcoming offering from INK THINK TANK called INK LINK: Authors on Call. Even though we won’t be hanging out our shingle until mid-April, we were very excited about this trial run. We’re hoping to bring high quality award-winning non-fiction into the classroom. Seems like most schools feature fiction instead! If you’re reading this blog, well, you are probably already a kindred spirit.
Videoconferencing is an exciting technology, I think. I shall now put my hand over my heart and announce that if we can get this project on just the right track, we’ll be able to let groups enter a “virtual classroom” with one or more of our Authors on Call, who will share their experiences, wisdom, and insights, enhanced by a colorful array of slides and other visuals.
Besides that, audience members will be able to make comments or ask questions to some truly inspiring and informative nonfiction authors. And our videoconferencing packages will offer in-services, panel discussions and much more to teachers and other professionals. We’d also like to provide virtual assembly programs for children at a fraction of the cost of an actual school visit. That way, people of every age will have a chance to see, hear, question and interact with well-known authors from afar, as if they were sitting together right in the same room the way we did last week. So far the future is looking very interesting...here's hoping we're ready to come out dancing!
Vicki lives in New York where it was about to snow. I live in Virginia where the side roads were still impassable from our own monster blizzard. But all the little video interconnections and sample slide shows and cameras and sound systems and live shots of the participants worked just fine—and we never even had to leave home. Besides that, the audience members could ask questions and make comments as though they were sitting next to us in the same room. It was all very laid back and friendly, and the audience was terrific too. (Fortunately, they couldn’t see our shoes.) How cool is that?
Our specific goal was to do what we often do for teachers when we go far far away from home; present a sampling of great ways to get kids so excited about learning that they can’t wait to come to class. Vicki introduced some amazing hands-on science experiments kids can try out in class using everyday items (think plastic bags, paper cups, and toilet paper)! I introduced some wild factoids about famous people from history that can wake up any kid, and I also revealed a few secret tricks teachers can use to help themselves become amazing storytellers—and nonfiction storytellers at that.
Our more general goal was to do a test run on an upcoming offering from INK THINK TANK called INK LINK: Authors on Call. Even though we won’t be hanging out our shingle until mid-April, we were very excited about this trial run. We’re hoping to bring high quality award-winning non-fiction into the classroom. Seems like most schools feature fiction instead! If you’re reading this blog, well, you are probably already a kindred spirit.
Videoconferencing is an exciting technology, I think. I shall now put my hand over my heart and announce that if we can get this project on just the right track, we’ll be able to let groups enter a “virtual classroom” with one or more of our Authors on Call, who will share their experiences, wisdom, and insights, enhanced by a colorful array of slides and other visuals.
Besides that, audience members will be able to make comments or ask questions to some truly inspiring and informative nonfiction authors. And our videoconferencing packages will offer in-services, panel discussions and much more to teachers and other professionals. We’d also like to provide virtual assembly programs for children at a fraction of the cost of an actual school visit. That way, people of every age will have a chance to see, hear, question and interact with well-known authors from afar, as if they were sitting together right in the same room the way we did last week. So far the future is looking very interesting...here's hoping we're ready to come out dancing!
Monday, March 1, 2010
I.N.K. News for March
From Dorothy Patent: WHEN THE WOLVES RETURNED has been won the 2010 Great Lakes Great Books Award for Grades 2-3. Winners will be listed on the Michigan Reading Association’s web site in the coming weeks.
From April Pulley Sayre: Meet the Howlers (illustrated by Woody Miller, Charlesbridge)
and
Turtle, Turtle, Watch Out! (illustrated by Annie Patterson, Charlesbridge)
were just released.
A big book of my One Is a Snail, Ten Is a Crab (illustrated by Randy Cecil, Candlewick)
is being released in March.
Earth in the Hot Seat: Bulletins from a Warming World by Marfé Ferguson Delano won the 2010 Green Earth Book Award for nonfiction. Given by the Newton Marasco Foundation in partnership with Salisbury University, the award honors books "that best raise awareness of the beauty of our natural world and the responsibility that we have to protect it."
From Deborah Heiligman: CHARLES AND EMMA: THE DARWINS' LEAP OF FAITH is a finalist for the LA Times Book Prize in YA Literature . (Along with two other great non-fiction books Elizabeth Partridge's MARCHING FOR FREEDOM: WALK TOGETHER CHILDREN AND DON'T YOU GROW WEARY and James Cross Giblin's THE RISE AND FALL OF SENATOR JOE MCCARTHY)
Also, I will be at the New York State Reading Teacher's Conference in Saratoga Springs, NY, March 7-8th and at the Virginia Festival of Books March 20-21.
From April Pulley Sayre: Meet the Howlers (illustrated by Woody Miller, Charlesbridge)
and
Turtle, Turtle, Watch Out! (illustrated by Annie Patterson, Charlesbridge)
were just released.
A big book of my One Is a Snail, Ten Is a Crab (illustrated by Randy Cecil, Candlewick)
is being released in March.
Earth in the Hot Seat: Bulletins from a Warming World by Marfé Ferguson Delano won the 2010 Green Earth Book Award for nonfiction. Given by the Newton Marasco Foundation in partnership with Salisbury University, the award honors books "that best raise awareness of the beauty of our natural world and the responsibility that we have to protect it."
From Deborah Heiligman: CHARLES AND EMMA: THE DARWINS' LEAP OF FAITH is a finalist for the LA Times Book Prize in YA Literature . (Along with two other great non-fiction books Elizabeth Partridge's MARCHING FOR FREEDOM: WALK TOGETHER CHILDREN AND DON'T YOU GROW WEARY and James Cross Giblin's THE RISE AND FALL OF SENATOR JOE MCCARTHY)
Also, I will be at the New York State Reading Teacher's Conference in Saratoga Springs, NY, March 7-8th and at the Virginia Festival of Books March 20-21.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Interesting Nonfiction Cartooning Books for Kids
This past week I taught my Cartooning class for After School Enrichment at the local elementary school. I love teaching this class, especially after last year's comment exclaimed by a third grader, "I never knew cartooning could be so much fun". Yes, that's why we do it! Thing is, I could stand up in front of these eager minds and tell them how to draw cartoons. (Heaven knows, I've bought a million cartooning books over the past 25 years that tell just that.) But, where can they go from there? A problem many artists have faced over the years: the dreaded blank piece of paper.
So, I share with the group a great quote by Joseph Barbera, of Hanna-Barbera fame: "Making cartoons means very hard work at every step of the way, but creating a successful cartoon character is the hardest work."
Then, I read from the last page of David Horvath's book, HOW TO DRAW UGLYDOLL, where David offers this advice: "Want a really awesome tip? Try this one: instead of telling everyone what you plan on drawing, just draw and show us what you've come up with! And repeat!" (I talked with David before my first class for some sage advice and he offered the same tip. I've known David since he was 10 years old and his mom, one of my dearest friends, used to spend entire weekends driving around LA looking for Star Wars action figures. I'm a big fan!)
So, the big secret to learn how to draw cartoons is to draw, draw, and draw some more. But, what do you draw? Thinking, thinking, thinking...
In my cartooning class, we spend about 20 minutes having a blast brainstorming every monster, fairy, animal, and human -- and then we list every outrageous adjective, adverb, action, and characteristic known to man (or elementary student). Their minds are amazing! Then, voila, we have about 500+ ideas to draw!
As the kids start filling up their sketchbooks and large sheets of paper with the most creative and imaginative creatures, I share with the group about ten other secrets about cartooning. And, I can't list them here because, well, they're secrets!
Interesting NF Cartooning Books for Kids*
At our local library, I try to make a pass by the cartoon books. Most times it looks like a bomb went off with huge gaps of missing books, which leads me to believe that people are checking out nonfiction books on cartooning. Librarians, feel free to chime in on this one. Here's a few of the new cartooning books in case you might be looking for a few.
by James Sturm, Andrew Arnold, and Alexis Frederick-Frost
First Second March 2009
Different than most "how-to" cartooning books. Starts by stating that anyone can draw --- which is so true, and is not said enough. Hilarious, fun reading adventure that will inspire all to pick up a pencil and draw "stuff".
How to Draw Uglydoll
by David Horvath and Sun-Min Kim
Walter Foster August 2006
Big Book of Things to Draw (Usborne Art Ideas)
by Fiona Watt, Anna Milbourne, Rosie Dickens
Usborne Books January 2007
Well-organized book with plenty of things to draw!
Anyone have a favorite cartooning book?
*Note: I only listed books published within the past year or two for elementary grade students. Maybe a post on Middle Grade and YA cartooning books is in order!
So, I share with the group a great quote by Joseph Barbera, of Hanna-Barbera fame: "Making cartoons means very hard work at every step of the way, but creating a successful cartoon character is the hardest work."
Then, I read from the last page of David Horvath's book, HOW TO DRAW UGLYDOLL, where David offers this advice: "Want a really awesome tip? Try this one: instead of telling everyone what you plan on drawing, just draw and show us what you've come up with! And repeat!" (I talked with David before my first class for some sage advice and he offered the same tip. I've known David since he was 10 years old and his mom, one of my dearest friends, used to spend entire weekends driving around LA looking for Star Wars action figures. I'm a big fan!)
So, the big secret to learn how to draw cartoons is to draw, draw, and draw some more. But, what do you draw? Thinking, thinking, thinking...
In my cartooning class, we spend about 20 minutes having a blast brainstorming every monster, fairy, animal, and human -- and then we list every outrageous adjective, adverb, action, and characteristic known to man (or elementary student). Their minds are amazing! Then, voila, we have about 500+ ideas to draw!
As the kids start filling up their sketchbooks and large sheets of paper with the most creative and imaginative creatures, I share with the group about ten other secrets about cartooning. And, I can't list them here because, well, they're secrets!
Interesting NF Cartooning Books for Kids*
At our local library, I try to make a pass by the cartoon books. Most times it looks like a bomb went off with huge gaps of missing books, which leads me to believe that people are checking out nonfiction books on cartooning. Librarians, feel free to chime in on this one. Here's a few of the new cartooning books in case you might be looking for a few.
First Second March 2009
Different than most "how-to" cartooning books. Starts by stating that anyone can draw --- which is so true, and is not said enough. Hilarious, fun reading adventure that will inspire all to pick up a pencil and draw "stuff".
by David Horvath and Sun-Min Kim
Walter Foster August 2006
by Fiona Watt, Anna Milbourne, Rosie Dickens
Usborne Books January 2007
Well-organized book with plenty of things to draw!
Anyone have a favorite cartooning book?
*Note: I only listed books published within the past year or two for elementary grade students. Maybe a post on Middle Grade and YA cartooning books is in order!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
How Do I Find Ideas? A Roundabout Answer
When I was 21, I took a tour of Belize and Guatemala in rickety bus with 14 random strangers who would have been great characters for a Broadway play. There was the lady who thought she’d been bitten by a vampire bat and ran off to find a local shaman. There was the British Imperialist magazine writer who who wanted to buy a pig and stake it out so we could attract a jaguar. There was the tour guide who abandoned us so he could rescue a tapir from a well. Oh, and let’s not forget the matronly lady with the inescapable grinding voice who complained about every single thing.
But there was this couple—a friendly couple. The man had powers. He could find animals. Anywhere. He could find a speck on a hillside and it would be a toucan. His skill was almost magical. I craved it. Years later, I found his magic was a hunter skill that comes from practice, year after year. Experienced birders have it. Now, I have it, too. Someone can say, “See that warbler?” And I can often find that bird without any additional directions in about two seconds, 60 feet up in a distant tree.
I can barely remember what it was like not to be able to separate the layered calls of forest birds and identify them. It seems strange to remember a time when I didn’t know the insects, the plants, the ecological layers, and how to snap to see the slightest animal movement at the corner of my eyes. My husband and I have led rain forest tours to Panama and helped others who felt just like I once did—like they’ll never see that animal everyone else is seeing. Yet this skill comes with time and practice.
Another thing that comes with time and this particular career is an absurd amount of information about the natural world. At first, I had knowledge because I wrote so many books about biomes, endangered species, and environmental issues. (Okay, so I also have a biology degree from Duke.) Back then, before google, I dug through academic libraries for much of my information about taiga, tundra, acid rain, global warming, and the like. Yes, the book stuff migrated to my brain. Before that, I’d written dozens upon dozens of articles for encyclopedias, conservation newsletters, and geography texts while working at National Wildlife Federation and the National Geographic Society.
Yet what came later was the slow, personal accumulation of nature experiences. I’d marvel to see the route of roots, the decay of leaves, the neon flashes of squid, the hatching of sea turtles. Often I’d think: So it really is this way! It really works like they say. Because I had already read about, and often written about, that ecological unfolding.
The seeds for my book Trout Are Made of Trees were planted in an ecology class at Duke. The professor discussed the leaves and the algae and fungi on the leaves as peanut butter on crackers. Lots of aquatic larvae go for the peanut butter even more than the crackers. What can I say? Food metaphors stick with me. Yet it was personal experience cleaning out the skimmer in our water garden 20 years later that got me thinking about aquatic larvae again. Then, one day, the leaf/stream connection was simmering as I stood looking at the stream. The words, “Trout Are Made of Trees” came to mind and I could feel the voice of the book coming over me.
What I write about, I live and breathe. Or, should I say, my husband and I live and breathe. He works at home. We stop our work and look at and discuss squirrels or birds or opossums or deer or plants or seeds about 20 times a day. That adds up over the years. Even the years when he was working outside of the home, he’d come back to a full report of home wildlife happenings and he’d have plant knowledge to share as an ecological consultant and director of a native plant nursery. And then there is the daily reading of science magazines and watching of science programs and listening to science on the radio.
In case you are wondering who I was on that bus in Belize—that could-have-been-a Broadway play bus—I’ll just say I’m not above reproach. I am the gullible, adventuresome 21-year old who all alone went with three strangers (not on the tour) for a spontaneous private tour of hidden, off track rooms with jaguar etchings in the temples of Tikal in Guatemala Yes, I am the one who trekked through the jungle with these strangers who did not speak my language as the sun set and insects glowed on trees and search parties combed the forest to find me. Sorry, fellow travelers. I can only say I’ve learned a couple of things since then.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Sylvia Anderle, Children's Librarian
How I use nonfiction books in the library
My K and 1st grade classes come from the three local elementary schools and reflect the diversity of our community. I am always surprised to find how few children can recite Jack and Jill or sing Mary Had a Little Lamb. I try to have fun with the students in pretending to “review” these nursery favorites without making them feel that this is babyish. Of course, the foundation of most story times for babies, toddlers and preschoolers is sharing nonfiction from our Nursery Rhyme and Songbook collections
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Understanding the problem in fifth grade
I’ve been an apprentice in a fifth grade classroom for three weeks now. So far, there has not been a nonfiction book in sight. I don’t anticipate the next three weeks will be any different. As my understanding of the demanding schedule and curriculum requirements imposed by the district increases, so does my sense of the problem.
The students are currently completing a unit on realistic fiction. That means they are reading realistic fiction in their reading groups, writing their own realistic fiction stories in writing workshop and borrowing realistic fiction during their weekly visit to the school library. In other words, immersion as an educational approach.
While I can certainly see the value in this, I’m naturally drawn to what this leaves out. The school day is jam-packed and there is rarely any time for kids to just pull out a book and read. Half an hour of reading for homework is standard but, yet again, free choice within the boundaries of the literary unit. Is the average kid going to pick up a different kind of book during the week and do additional reading? I think we all know the answer to that.
Reaching for a good book of one’s choice. It’s so very personal and essential to foster a love of reading. We all know that kids love nonfiction and that, if given the choice, a kid will often choose it over fiction. Right now, in fifth grade, kids are getting their daily dose of nonfiction by studying reading comprehension passages for standardized tests. It seems like it’s come to this. Do we try, once again, to overhaul the imperfect system? How many voices can be heard? Difficult questions, to say the least. While we mull them over, I’m going to start small. But I’m definitely going to start. I don’t think I could teach any other way. I’ll report back.
The students are currently completing a unit on realistic fiction. That means they are reading realistic fiction in their reading groups, writing their own realistic fiction stories in writing workshop and borrowing realistic fiction during their weekly visit to the school library. In other words, immersion as an educational approach.
While I can certainly see the value in this, I’m naturally drawn to what this leaves out. The school day is jam-packed and there is rarely any time for kids to just pull out a book and read. Half an hour of reading for homework is standard but, yet again, free choice within the boundaries of the literary unit. Is the average kid going to pick up a different kind of book during the week and do additional reading? I think we all know the answer to that.
Reaching for a good book of one’s choice. It’s so very personal and essential to foster a love of reading. We all know that kids love nonfiction and that, if given the choice, a kid will often choose it over fiction. Right now, in fifth grade, kids are getting their daily dose of nonfiction by studying reading comprehension passages for standardized tests. It seems like it’s come to this. Do we try, once again, to overhaul the imperfect system? How many voices can be heard? Difficult questions, to say the least. While we mull them over, I’m going to start small. But I’m definitely going to start. I don’t think I could teach any other way. I’ll report back.
Monday, February 22, 2010
If They Had a Million Dollars
Remember the hit song by the Barenaked Ladies, a Canadian alternative rock band (whose members are neither ladies nor naked -- it least in public)? Here's how it starts:
If I had a million dollar
If I had a million dollars
Well I’d buy you a house
I would buy you a house
I’d buy you furniture for your house…
Hate to sound like a million dollar spoilsport, but I sure wouldn’t pay a million for those lyrics. Not even a hundred. Still, the tune is darn catchy, and the refrain is a bit touching:
Since the 1989 publication of my second book, If You Made a Million, I have seen countless examples of student writing that begin with the prompt, “If I had a million dollars…” They fall into three categories of roughly equal size. I’ll call the them "fulfillment,” "greed" and "charity."
By "fulfillment" I mean the meeting of life’s needs and reasonable desires to improve one's life. (OK, I admit I’ve made myself the sole judge of “reasonable” but I think you’ll sign on with me.) Those children whose million dollar dreams fall in this category tend to be realistic. With a little financial boost, they could probably buy the things they’re wishing for. And so we have six-year old Alexandra who writes in Alexandra’s Million Dollar Book (with a dedication page, incidentally, honoring one David Schwartz):
If I had a million dollars I would ask my Mom, “Can I have a book?”
If I had a million dollars I would ask my Dad, “Can I have a pet?”
I would guess that Alexandra’s life would be improved by the arrival of a pet and a book. If I could be the genie in the oil lamp, I would grant Alexandra her two modest wishes. Other children have wished for clothing, toys, trips, tickets to concerts or sporting events, their favorite foods, even — sadly —heat for their homes. Some of the cravings enter the realm of the luxurious — a swimming pool, for instance, in Opelika, Alabama. But considering the summertime heat and humidity of Alabama, I would say the swimming pool could help improve the yearner’s life (or at least comfort).
Eventually we cross the fuzzy line that separates fulfillment from greed. Here we have children gunning not for just one toy but for thousands or millions of them — often duplicates of the same thing. “I would buy a million Nintendos” or “a million Wiis” or whatever happens to be the hot gizmo du jour. But that’s only the beginning of million-dollar greed. I’ve seen kids spend their imaginary million on items that a billion dollars couldn’t buy: “I’d buy Disney World.” Not content with a such a meager piece of real estate, one spender revealed a vaster aspiration: “I’d buy Florida!” Even that was outdone by the child who boasted, “I would buy the World!”
But to me, the big winner here is philanthropy. I’m pleased to know that about a third of the authors spent their fictional money to improve the lives of others. Some took on lofty, if vague, goals like “I would buy food for the poor” while others were more specific: “I would buy a car for my brother so he can get to work.” Or, “I would give my money to my nice teacher, Mrs. Swartzel, so she can buy a golden necklace, golden ring, a golden castle. I like my teacher.” (Appropriately enough, this magnanimous student is named Buddy.) Some gave to organizations (a pie graph of “How I Spent my Million” showed sizeable slices of the pie served to worthy causes including the Leukemia Society and the Adopt a Giraffe Society). My all-time favorite came from a girl named Margarita: “I would shar my money with our teachers, the prin and the children.” (I assume the letters “cipal” were meant to come after “prin.”)
With a million in spending money, some combine greed with philanthropy. One standout example came from the writer who wanted to buy a big dinner for everyone in his school and then use any money left over to buy himself a horse, twelve dogs and a Ferrari.
Whether motivated by self-improvement, greed or philanthropy, this kind of imagining does motivate kids' writing, but I hope their written words are accompanied verbal discussions. If I were the teacher, I would have as many questions as the kids have ways to satisfy their spending lust. For starters: “Could you really buy a million computer games for a million dollars? And why would you want a million of them anyway?”
It might be worth pointing out that many items on the kids’ wish lists, such as Disney World, would knock you back more than a million. And even with an unlimited budget, not everything in the world is for sale. The State of Florida would be on that list (though some political observers might disagree!).
Of course with a little guidance, these exercises can be mathematical as well as literary. Like something out of Math Curse, the math problems should flow like liquid dollars from the spending pumps of these students. Every time I read “If I had a million dollars, I would buy a million X,” I wonder if anyone asked the child how much each X would cost if you could buy a million for a million dollars. If they cannot come to see the unit cost as $1, an important prospective math lesson has been missed.
One 4th grade class used a million-dollar spending spree as the basis of a subtraction activity in which each child was issued a checkbook with a balance of $1,000,000. Finding real prices of items advertised in magazines and newspapers (no houses allowed and no more than one car), they had to spend their way down to $0, showing the math each step of the way. The kids were surprised to see how long it took them to dump that much money.
If only it worked that way in real life.
Friday, February 19, 2010
More Research!!!
In writing a biography, persistence aided by nosiness is a requirement. As collaborators, one of the qualities Sandra Jordan and I share is curiosity about the lives of others. When we discuss ideas for subjects for our biographies, we always ask ourselves, “What is their story?” More often than not, the artist’s childhood experiences are reflected in the art she/he makes as an adult. The sculptor Richard Serra at age four witnessed the launching of a tanker, and the angle of the ship’s prow formed a lasting impression, one that is evident in his looming metal sculptures today. The stories artists told us inspired us to move from books about learning to look at twentieth century art to books that dealt with the life and art of individual artists, such as Chuck Close, Louise Bourgeois, Andy Warhol, Christo and Jeanne-Claude and others.
Sandra talked about some of the ways we research, ferreting out new material, last month. Despite all the catalogues we read, interviews, visits to artists’ homes, studios, and museums that exhibit their works, there is so much more we need to discover. What motivated them? What made them unique? We had to examine their successes and failures, as well as their sometimes difficult personalities. Some of these talented people led messy lives. There is no correlation between being a good painter or writer or dancer and being a good person. As biographers, we must decide whether to make judgments or stick to the facts. We try to tell the truth up to a point as nonjudgmentally as we can because our focus is on the art. We tell details of the artists’ lives if they informed the work or shaped their personalities. For example, Jackson Pollock’s best work was done when he was sober; yet alcoholism led to a decline in his work and his eventual death. In Action Jackson, which was geared for younger readers, we focused on the creative process, describing how Pollock made one painting from start to finish. The book was nonfiction but not a biography. Therefore there was no reason to talk about his personal problems in the text, although we there is a reference in a short bio in the back matter. We don’t shy away from controversial material in full length biographies. In Andy Warhol: Prince of POP, geared for young adults, his homosexuality and involvement in the 60’s drug culture impacted his life, as well as his art. But his innovative work and influence in artmaking, films, books, and advertising were our focus. The anecdotal material of his full life was amusing, poignant, and always fascinating.
Another consideration is how much do children at age eight or above know? In our next book Ballet for Martha: Making Appalachian Spring (Fall, 2010), we made a number of school visits to share the text and ask questions to find out what dance, art, or music terms young readers know. We could then return to the study, revising and refining, based on what we learned. It was also fun to see what students responded to in showing the illustrations and reading the story of this celebrated collaboration between Martha Graham, Isamu Noguchi and Aaron Copland.
The details that delight children, delight us as adults. But in writing non-fiction, especially a biography, the goal is to get beyond the details, to dig beneath the surface, thus obtaining a fuller view of the person’s life. We gain so much more by setting ourselves aside and inhabiting someone else’s skin for awhile. We expand our view of ourselves. We feel better in the company of Martha Graham, Andy Warhol, and Christo and Jeanne-Claude, because they struggled with same human problems we all do; yet in spite of difficult times, they worked hard, cared about their art, and managed to say something fresh and meaningful about our culture. They never gave up!
Sandra talked about some of the ways we research, ferreting out new material, last month. Despite all the catalogues we read, interviews, visits to artists’ homes, studios, and museums that exhibit their works, there is so much more we need to discover. What motivated them? What made them unique? We had to examine their successes and failures, as well as their sometimes difficult personalities. Some of these talented people led messy lives. There is no correlation between being a good painter or writer or dancer and being a good person. As biographers, we must decide whether to make judgments or stick to the facts. We try to tell the truth up to a point as nonjudgmentally as we can because our focus is on the art. We tell details of the artists’ lives if they informed the work or shaped their personalities. For example, Jackson Pollock’s best work was done when he was sober; yet alcoholism led to a decline in his work and his eventual death. In Action Jackson, which was geared for younger readers, we focused on the creative process, describing how Pollock made one painting from start to finish. The book was nonfiction but not a biography. Therefore there was no reason to talk about his personal problems in the text, although we there is a reference in a short bio in the back matter. We don’t shy away from controversial material in full length biographies. In Andy Warhol: Prince of POP, geared for young adults, his homosexuality and involvement in the 60’s drug culture impacted his life, as well as his art. But his innovative work and influence in artmaking, films, books, and advertising were our focus. The anecdotal material of his full life was amusing, poignant, and always fascinating.
Another consideration is how much do children at age eight or above know? In our next book Ballet for Martha: Making Appalachian Spring (Fall, 2010), we made a number of school visits to share the text and ask questions to find out what dance, art, or music terms young readers know. We could then return to the study, revising and refining, based on what we learned. It was also fun to see what students responded to in showing the illustrations and reading the story of this celebrated collaboration between Martha Graham, Isamu Noguchi and Aaron Copland.
The details that delight children, delight us as adults. But in writing non-fiction, especially a biography, the goal is to get beyond the details, to dig beneath the surface, thus obtaining a fuller view of the person’s life. We gain so much more by setting ourselves aside and inhabiting someone else’s skin for awhile. We expand our view of ourselves. We feel better in the company of Martha Graham, Andy Warhol, and Christo and Jeanne-Claude, because they struggled with same human problems we all do; yet in spite of difficult times, they worked hard, cared about their art, and managed to say something fresh and meaningful about our culture. They never gave up!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Captions--An Opportunity for Storytelling
When nonfiction writers get to the caption-writing portion of the text, we are usually in the thick of the production process—final selection of images, moving things around, paying the closest attention to any conceptual issues that might have snuck past our eyes so we can fix them before it’s too late—there’s a lot to stay on top of. And then, right at that moment when most things are being finalized, it is time to draft the captions. If approached with renewed energy, instead of a task to check off at a time when things are hectic, caption writing is an extra opportunity to look at your story with a whole new set of fresh eyes.
One thing I like to do when looking through galley pass pages, is try to see the book from a totally visual perspective—not my innate strength. Since it is a conscious effort for me, not so much a natural one, I have taught myself to really SEE the pages. What story am I telling to the reader who is only first flipping through the book and not yet reading the text? Am I pulling them in? Are the images conveying the feeling I want? Is each spread balanced in its visual storytelling? Are my main points and tone coming across for each chapter—and are the chapters flowing together as a satisfying whole?
It’s in the caption writing that I often realize that an image might be necessary, unnecessary, or misplaced. And it’s in the caption writing that I transition from having a general sense that I want a particular image in my book to knowing more concretely and specifically what I want to say about the image and how it relates to the text.
I just completed this stage with The Good, the Bad, and the Barbie. It is an extremely gratifying process because, like a painter, what you are really doing is adding an additional layer of texture. It was fun to make new choices, discuss with my editor what we might want to reshoot in a few instances, and start to add those finishing touches to the project. And what you say about the images you choose can really give your readers those “A-Ha!” moments. You know what points excite you about your topic—they are the ones you describe to someone who asks you about what you’re writing, those nuggets that capture the essence of the whole book. And captions provide a captivating (sorry, couldn’t resist) opportunity to make sure those points are encapsulated (whoops, there I go again) and easy to find at first glance.
One thing I like to do when looking through galley pass pages, is try to see the book from a totally visual perspective—not my innate strength. Since it is a conscious effort for me, not so much a natural one, I have taught myself to really SEE the pages. What story am I telling to the reader who is only first flipping through the book and not yet reading the text? Am I pulling them in? Are the images conveying the feeling I want? Is each spread balanced in its visual storytelling? Are my main points and tone coming across for each chapter—and are the chapters flowing together as a satisfying whole?
It’s in the caption writing that I often realize that an image might be necessary, unnecessary, or misplaced. And it’s in the caption writing that I transition from having a general sense that I want a particular image in my book to knowing more concretely and specifically what I want to say about the image and how it relates to the text.
I just completed this stage with The Good, the Bad, and the Barbie. It is an extremely gratifying process because, like a painter, what you are really doing is adding an additional layer of texture. It was fun to make new choices, discuss with my editor what we might want to reshoot in a few instances, and start to add those finishing touches to the project. And what you say about the images you choose can really give your readers those “A-Ha!” moments. You know what points excite you about your topic—they are the ones you describe to someone who asks you about what you’re writing, those nuggets that capture the essence of the whole book. And captions provide a captivating (sorry, couldn’t resist) opportunity to make sure those points are encapsulated (whoops, there I go again) and easy to find at first glance.
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