DON’T JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS (BACK) COVER

by Chad E. Jarrah, Assistant Editor, Where Books Begin

Books affect their readers in any number of ways. The creepy words of Stephen King make us look over our shoulders, or David Sedaris’ stories make us laugh openly. Children’s books do the same, but due to our innocence when we first hear them, they stick with us much longer. As Dylan Thomas famously said: “After the first time there is no other. “

At Where Books Begin I read the boss's book about picture books and started writing picture books myself. I asked friends and relatives to tell me the picture books they adore. I was surprised to hear the same titles repeated over and over again.

‘Anything by Dr. Seuss,’ a young mother said, ‘My son loves Oh, The Places You Will Go.’

An elementary schoolteacher told me she is a lifelong fan of Eric Carle’s The Very Hungry Caterpillar. ‘The illustrations in that book are great,’ she said, ‘I read it to my students every year.’

A doting father is reading Richard Scarry’s Busytown to his daughter, having enjoyed What Do People Do All Day? as a child. “My world really became organized when I read this book,” he recalls fondly.

My personal favorite is The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. I hadn’t read it in years. I remember being confused as a child by the intimidating picture of the author on the back of the book jacket. ‘How could this scary man write such a nice book? This was before I learned never judge a book by its cover, or for that matter, by its back cover. Remembering the menacing picture of Silverstein made me wonder about the authors of other famous children’s books. How many other best sellers were written by people, who, by the looks of them, have no right being anywhere near or associated with a child? So my search began.

If two words could accurately describe the result of my findings, they would probably be ‘Freak’ and ‘Show.’ Every author seemed to be an old white man, more like John McCain than Mister Rogers. Before my researches, I assumed picture books were created by grandmotherly types baking cookies and writing in their spare time. Or dedicated elementary school teachers like Miss Honey, intent on making her students aware of wisdom and beauty. Not with these guys.

Everyone’s heard of Harold and the Purple Crayon, the story of a four year old boy who creates the world he wants to see with the power of his magical purple crayon. This is a great story that teaches kids to use their imaginations, but who would have thought the author, Crockett Johnson, would look like a runner-up from a Telly Savalas look-alike contest. Harold, however, has touched readers all across the globe as it has been translated into ten languages, including Hebrew and Chinese.

H.A. Rey, pictured here with his comb-over and horn-rimmed glasses, is the genius behind Curious George. His creation is recognizable everywhere and has easily become more popular than its creator. Curious George gets four and a half million hits on Google as opposed to H.A. Rey himself with fewer than a million. Again, a homely and unassuming author is responsible for a work that has sold 25 million copies (Btw, George is 67 years old--he’s a senior citizen now.)

For a man who looks like a ruthless and boring organic chemistry professor, Maurice Sendak has amazingly created in Where the Wild Things Are, a ten-sentence masterpiece. It won the Caldecott medal 43 years ago. Sendak likes to tell the story about the mother who told him: "Every time I read the book to my daughter, she screams.”

Sendak: "Then why did you continue reading it to her when she does not like it?"

Mother: "She ought to like it, it's a Caldecott book."

Sendak says “If a child does not like a book, throw it in the trash.”

Born Theodor Geisel, Dr. Seuss created his pen name after he was kicked off of the Dartmouth college paper as a consequence of throwing an illegal drinking party his senior year. From then on he used the name Dr. Seuss to write without penalty. As I see it: ‘He was drinking some gin, what trouble he’s in, whoever would think in the end he would win!’

Scary? Yes. That’s because this is Richard Scarry, author of the popular Busytown series. His eyes may pierce the soul and strike fear into the heart of even the most brave, but every little kid loves Lowly Worm and Huckle Cat who aren’t scary in the least. The characters he created live on in cartoons, educational materials and video games.

The man pictured to the left seems to have a severe case of airsickness but that’s not possible. He is none other than Antoine Saint Exupery, author of The Little Prince and an accomplished aviator. The Little Prince has sold more copies than any other picture book. Translated into over 180 languages it is currently number three on the most printed list behind only The Bible and Gone with the Wind.

Only twenty picture book authors have books that have sold more than a million copies. The men who created them – and they are overwhelmingly men – are all rich but not that famous. If you subscribe to the stereotypes that women do all the caring for children, think again. A children’s author can be an intimidating, bewhiskered, bald, gin swilling aviator and still share lessons that will endure over a lifetime.

I USED TO THINK BEING PUBLISHED WAS A STATUS THING

by Chad Jarrah
Assistant Editor
Where Books Begin




For me, for many years, as for all aspiring writers, publication was the goal. I wanted people to read what I had written. But even more, I wanted everyone, readers and non-readers alike, to be impressed that I was in that elite club of published writers. That some editor somewhere thought that what I had to say was worth reading.

Publication would show acceptance into an elite club. We authors send out query letters again and again all in the hope of receiving that one response from an interested agent or publisher telling us: ‘Yes, you are good enough for me. Join us!’ As a writer, I was that nerd in high school who longs to go out with the popular cheerleader. Me, in high school, I asked every cheerleader out and got rejected until I lost all hope. Then that last pretty cheerleader saw something in me and accepted me for all my random quirkiness. I was hoping for the same thing in publishing.

THEN I BECAME AN EDITOR MYSELF

Then I became an editor myself. I got a job in publishing, working as an assistant editor for Where Books Begin, and I began to see things differently. As an aspiring writer, I had the cart before the horse. I thought that the acceptance by the publisher came FIRST. As an editor, I found out that the publisher is just a buyer, and he buys the best. If I wanted him to pick me out of the crowd, my stuff had to be better than everyone else’s. I had to be best. And how would I be best? Thomas Edison, who never wrote a word in his busy life, had the answer “Ninety nine percent perspiration, one percent inspiration.” Robert Louis Stevenson whose books are still popular after a century, echoed him: “Good writing is re-writing,”

EDITORS WANT PERFECTION.

And rewrite is what editors and authors do. Back and forth, over and over, again and again. How many times can the first thirteen pages of a novel be sharpened, tweaked, focused and perfected?

“That ellipsis on page 7: is it really necessary?”

Answer: “Of course it is necessary, it shows the character is drifting off, evading confrontation.”

Editor’s reply: “But can’t the dialogue itself show that same evasion?”

It feels like it will never end. I don’t know whether I feel like a law clerk or Dr. Phil, but I keep asking questions. That’s what editors do to help writers make better books.

PERFECTION PAYS OFF

Then one day the author gets a nibble from an agent. “Sounds good, send it along!” Once a writer is accepted into the company of the agent, then he can have the luxury of calling his writing “Art” With a capital A. I dance a jig around the office. See? It pays to seek perfection!

HOW BEING AN EDITOR AFFECTS MY READING

While working as an editor, always making manuscripts better and better, I began to get very choosy about my reading off the job. I didn’t want anything that didn’t hit the mark. I have been working on a memoir, so I started seeking out great memoirs. Three people told me to check out Mark Salzman, author of Lost in Place, Iron and Silk and Lying Awake. These books are based on his experiences in life and all three are rooted in humor -- the same approach that I want to pursue.

DISCOVERING MARK SALZMAN

As I breezed through his Lost In Place, I forgot all about writing and rewriting. I was right there in Connecticut (I have never been to Connecticut, I try to stay west of the Delaware River) in the seventies (before I was born) doing kung fu (I have never done kung fu) and worrying about whether I was going to get into Yale (Lehigh was what I worried about when I was in high school.) M. B. Goffstein says “Being a professional writer is working and working and working and working until it seems like you never worked at all.” That’s exactly what I felt Mark Salzman had done. And even though I know it’s a ton of work, it’s exactly what I would like to do. Salzman has inspired me to try.

THE SALZMAN TECHNIQUE

Salzman tells his stories in a way that make the reader understand his exact feeling and point of view at whatever moment in his life he is describing. He defamiliarizes his anecdotes so we have the ‘in his shoes’ feeling.

WRITER’s LESSON: DEFAMILIARIZATION

Defamiliarization is the writer’s sleight of hand. He grasps that which everybody takes for granted and lays it out as something new. Readers who know what he is talking about, nod in recognition. Readers who have no idea of what he is talking about, learn. This makes the process of reading effortless. Those who already know can skim. Those who are learning something new from the book are interested, excited even, and the energy that rises out of curiosity helps them along.

They are so focused on the content they don’t notice the style. If you ask the reader “What did you think of Salzman’s style?” most likely he will reply “What style?” even though Salzman has a distinctive style. The content has pulled them into Salzman’s story. They are totally unaware of techniques and tricks. They just want to read more.

WHAT NEXT?

Now I am reading Jeff Goodell’s Sunnyvale which tells the eighties version of Salzman’s suburban tale. This with a twist of the divorce of the main character’s parents early on in the story. In this day and age, divorce in no twist, but the norm, but the reactions of Jeff and his family, and the paths each member takes because of it, serve to surprise the reader. Again, defamiliarization is the key. My parents and aunts and uncles have never been through a divorce, but the confusion that Jeff and his siblings feel is so tangible, I know I’m blessed to have been so lucky.

I don’t think it’s possible to learn good writing just from reading good writers. They are too slick, too polished, their techniques can go right past you. You need a teacher to say “Why don’t you slow down the pace of that section?” or an editor who asks “Why do you leave the mother out of this scene?” But once you have taken writing courses or worked as an editor of another person’s work, you are ready to appreciate how the masters make the simplest, stupidest suburban existence, into a book that you cannot put down…or stop thinking about once you have finished it.

Enchantment is the goal. After realizing this -- after understanding all the rewriting that has been done, and after all the numerous changes made -- the 'elite club' theory begins to make sense.