Picture Book Personals
Boy seeks three portly bakers with a giant pitcher of milk to help make the morning cake.
What Classic Picture Book Am I?
Leave your best guess in the comments below. Find out the answer when the next Picture Book Personals is posted.
And the answer to last week’s Picture Book Personals is…
I bet you got it right!
Happy Birthday RIF, and go Tara!
Three years ago I visited RIF Headquarters in Washington D.C. to deliver a donation from Picture Book Idea Month. I was told an incredible story of how a RIF executive had just returned from one of the poorest areas of Appalachia. She visited a school with children who lived in run-down homes of five families each. Many more lived in tents patched together. These children had no books of their own. The books RIF provided would help give them a chance to succeed.
I wish I could recall the story in full. I was riveted listening about the sheer joy of the children. Many couldn’t believe the books were theirs to keep.
Every year I have taken the proceeds from the PiBoIdMo Cafe Press shop and given it to RIF. Every year I wish it were more. RIF is a charity I believe in so deeply. I believe in the power of…
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There is hope for our reluctant readers…
I have a confession. I did not read books when I was a kid. Of course, there was the time in 5th grade that I conspicuously placed A Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson on my desk, but that brief brush with literature was meant only to impress the two bookish girls in my class that I liked (one of whom is now a children’s writer but I’m not telling who!). Other kids were skateboarding to look the part. I was pretending to read books.
It’s not that I wasn’t surrounded by these bound bits of paper. My professorial parents lined our living room with volumes of fiction and non-fiction to quickly pull off the shelf if my sister and I needed help with our homework. I was a good student. Valedictorian even. But reading was something I only did when someone made me. Not because I didn’t like…
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“But…but…but…THAT”S not YOUR name as the Author!” I hear you declare indignantly…
That’s TRUE – I’M not the AUTHOR, my Mother is, but unfortunately she is not alive to publish it herself, (she died in 2000), so I’ve published it in her name.
Today would have been Mum’s 90th birthday if she’d still been alive, so my sister and I felt that this book would be a nice way to celebrate Mum’s life and memory.
What’s it about?
As stated in the book description:
We all have dreams, loves and hopes; but what if you are a girl growing up in 20th century Northern Ireland before, during and after the ‘Troubles’?
From the poetic thoughts of our Mother, we get a sense of what it was like, ranging from humour, sadness, wistful thinking and sometimes just downright nonsensical, these are the words of one such girl.
Each poem tells a story.
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