Kate DiCamillo's Blog, page 5

I was looking for a book the other day (I live in a house filled with books and the books are not organized in any truly helpful way and so I spend a lot of time looking for books) and I came upon my old copy of Chicken Soup with Rice.
The book is dinged up by age, and by repeated re-readings, and also by Nanette (the dog I grew up with���a Standard Poodle of exemplary character who was, however, known to chew on the occasional book).
I held this book in the palm of my hand, and I almost wep...

I was at dinner with a friend the other night.
It was after the main course and before dessert when I felt a presence to my right.
I looked up and saw a small blonde boy standing there, holding a piece of paper.
There was an ���x��� on the paper and a line next to the ���x.���
He wanted an autograph.
I signed the paper.
I asked him if he liked to read. He said, ���Yes.���
I said, ���Really truly?���
He said, ���Really. Truly.���
And then he gave me a green plastic bracelet, and went back to...

I���ve been having the most complicated dreams lately.
They have been byzantine and mysterious, but also luminous���so much so that I feel, sometimes, as if I am standing in a river of light.
It���s impossible to capture the dreams���to write them down or retell them.
But I feel their presence every time I sit down to write.
They are like sunlight���warm on my back.
Maybe it is just that I am longing for spring.
Or maybe this light is always there and I am not aware of it.
I don���t know.
Bu...

In the mailbag, a letter from Erin in New York that begins this way:
���Dear Kate DiCamillo, I adore your book, ���The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane.������
Erin then goes on to tell me in wondrous, thoughtful detail what moved her in the book and why.
But what I love best is Erin���s creative mash-ups of words. At one point, she says ���The two parts that heartbreaked me the most . . .���
And then later, she writes that she is ���rejoiceful��� at the end of the book.
This letter is...

My mother gave me a Valentine every year, always.
She never forgot.
Even when she was very old, and thought that the cards were too expensive (���Four dollars and ninety-five cents? For a card? That���s nuts. That���s highway robbery.���), she still gave me a Valentine.
These Valentine Days without her have a particular poignancy, a sharp, sweet edge to them.
I keep thinking of all the cards she gave me.
I don���t have any of them.
But I do have the books (Ribsy, The Cricket in Times Square...

I keep an ever-rotating array of quotes and objects (screws, empty blue bottles, marbles) and animals (stuffed raccoons, little metal dogs) on my desk to inspire me.
In my desk drawer (hidden from view) are the Newbery medals, and also a picture of me when I was a kid.
I open this drawer and look inside it when I need to be reminded (in the words of Shel Silverstein) that ���Anything can happen, child/ANYTHING can be.���
I also look inside the drawer whenever I doubt that stories can change l...

Can I just say?
It has been a week now and I am still over the moon about the ALSC awards. So many amazing stories will now get into the hands and hearts of so many kids (and adults) who need them.
And that is a glorious, wondrous and miraculous thing.
Here is a link to the award winners.
www.ala.org/alsc/
Go to your library, your bookstore.
Read these books aloud with someone you love.

In my experience, telling a story and going on a journey are sort of the same.
You plan, you hope, you dream, you study maps, and then you set out and--whoop--nothing happens the way you expected it would.
All of which is to say that I watched Manfred setting out on his journey, believing that he was on his way to meet Marcel, the raccoon.
I did not count on Tinka.
Who is Tinka?
She is that mouse, hiding in the tree.
She is eyeing Manfred���s backpack.
There is something that Tinka has los...

I woke up feeling gloomy.
I went for a walk.
The world was mostly dark. The skies were heavy. My gloominess persisted.
Then I passed a house just as someone raised a shade and revealed a book-filled, lamp-lit room. Those wonderful lines of Mary Oliver���s went through my head: ���Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,/the world offers itself to your imagination . . .���
The gloominess lifted some.
I was grateful.

From the Candlewick team: Keep your eyes on the Events section of this page for Kate's spring tour listings, and mark your calendars to attend! Her February events in Seattle are listed now. March events coming soon. We'll see you there!