A Book By Its Cover

What’s it like to see the characters who’ve been in your head the entire time you’re writing about them, turn up in an illustration you’ve seen for the first time? Do you even recognize them?

In the case of a book that isn’t an author-illustrator picture book, many readers are surprised to discover that it’s not the author who gets to determine what the cover of their book looks like: “I mean, you wrote the book, after all, shouldn’t it be your decision?” they say.

I suppose in the eyes of the publisher, it would be marketing suicide to have an author make that choice. After all, their team has researched the tastes of the audience the book is appealing to (that’s why they bought the book in the first place), and what the current market demands in terms of style. So as an author, you sit anxiously and nervously, waiting for the mock up of your book’s front cover to arrive, hoping that you like it--at least, enough.

In the case of Little Joe, I’d seen the work of the illustrator and viewed his portfolio on line, so I knew his realistic illustrations were a good fit for my novel. Still, you do have a pre-conceived image in your head. I’d imagined the cover to have a boy on it, leading his show calf somehow; like into a show ring or a barn, reminiscent of Laura Ingalls Wilder and her novel, Farmer Boy.

The first sketch of the Little Joe cover by illustrator Mark Elliott, was entirely different. That’s the sketch below, before it became an oil painting.

I had to use my imagination in terms of color at first, but I really liked the simplicity of Mark’s sketch. And I certainly recognized Little Joe. I was also told that there would be a blue ribbon painted near his hind quarters, and that it would contain the title of the novel. Below is the final cover artwork of the novel.

I never communicated with Mark directly but through my editor, which is how those things work. It never was an impediment, as the illustrator works closely with the art department of the publishing house, and I’d sent along about 400 pictures I’d taken of Angus cows, and kids competing at the county fair, as well as shots of cows in the pasture fields across from my writing office in Pennsylvania, where the book is set. Afterward, I’d been told that Mark had been on the fence with the project because he’d committed to other books, but decided to take this one on after seeing the photos.

There are 6 full-page line drawings in the book--black and white charcoal pencil sketches--that I really like. My favorite is the first one, on page 4. It’s of Little Joe having just been born and Spider, the barn cat, with Eli--all curious to see each other for the very first time.

I’d actually imagined Eli differently (I’d taken a photo of a bushy-haired boy showing a hog in a 4-H event, and he was my Eli), but Mark chose another young boy who’d shown a Belted Galloway, as his inspiration. I remember those photos and how much that boy, who was tinier than most, was devoted to his animal, and I’m glad he chose him.


I had input on changes within the sketches, which was the most important thing for me--more important than artistic expression. I wanted the illustrations to be as authentic as possible in terms of anatomy of the Angus calf, and in depicting what it really was like to compete in an event at the fair currently. Mark incorporated those changes well, like adjusting the shape of Little Joe’s ears (I always think Angus cows have ears akin to angel’s wings), the size of a hay bale, or a show stick.

Afterward I was so pleased, I suppose I broke protocol by contacting Mark directly, but he was thrilled. It meant a lot to me to let him know how much I appreciated the artwork, as it brought flesh to the story. And whenever I turn to page 49, I have to smile—the sketch is of Tater, Eli’s dog. Tater is the spitting image of Lucy, our 11-year-old mutt from the shelter. And like Eli with Little Joe, the one animal I’d find the most difficult to part with.

Royal Day in London

First thing in the morning we head out in the glorious sunshine to begin our Royal Day-- Rich in his new regal gold jacket and me in my red silk flapper dress. The first stop is the Royal Mews, where the Queen's stables are kept. We're a bit early so we shop at the Palace gift store, where I purchase royal mugs for my mum and sister(the official ones with the gold initials of Catherine & William painted on them that cost 4 times as much as the other mugs). I also grab a tea towel for me with the Buckingham Palace unicorn and lion logo, along with some quilted bags in the official Victoria & Albert floral pattern since they're now my favorite royals. (Did you know all royals have their own patterns? I didn't.)

At the Royal Mews, after getting our bags searched, which is protocol at all royal venues, we opt for the guided tour. We pass two lonely-looking horses-- the only horses of the Queen's we'll see for the rest of the excursion. An eager tourist puts out his hand to touch one of the steeds and gets royally scolded and practically admonished by a curt-lipped employee in a long navy skirt and blazer. We all bristle at the verbal lashing from the woman, who turns out to be our tour guide.

Now, if you like seeing gilded carriages in their garages without the glory of witnessing them in a parade led by Windsor Greys and filled with smiling Royalty, then you'll like the Royal Mews.

But even though I'm an avid horse lover, seeing a bunch of carriages cordoned off in their stalls without animals or people, made them appear like empty hulks, however shiny, and it was disappointing. What brightened our tour, though, was the rare chance that we'd picked the one day of the year when a carriage club rides through Hyde Park.

With the permission of the Queen, the club uses the square in the Mews to prepare, so we did see plenty of beautiful horses (and Windsor greys!) along with lots of wide-brimmed hats and morning suits as the club of wealthy Brits sipped on champagne before setting off on their journey.

We time our tour to finish just before the Changing of the Guard and head outside to the Palace Gates. The throngs of people are more than I'd imagined for the daily guard-changing. "Must be at least 5,000 out here," Rich says to me, holding my hand tighter. We work our way across the street in a mad dash before clambering behind the barricade in front of Victoria's Monument, which is the best vantage-point to catch the band. From what I've read,it's also the most enjoyable part of the ceremony anyhow. And I can't imagine hiking onto Rich's shoulders to peek through the Palace gates in order to catch a glimpse of the guard change. While we wait for the band a friendly Canadian-- a man from Ottawa here with his daughter, takes our picture.

I hear the sound of the musicians approaching and am happy when it crescendos as it gets nearer, drowning out the frantic chatter from the lady beside me, who is trying to block my shot with her camera.

Once the crowd clears, we walk to the Queen's Gallery. I thought I'd love the Mews and just feel sort of tepid about the Gallery, but it turns out to be quite the opposite.

"Make sure you visit the loos," the young lady checking my purse tells us. "They're the nicest in all of London." And I think she must be right. After dabbing some lovely lotion onto my hands in the marble and mahogany-paneled loo, Rich and I head up to the Gallery to view, "Treasures From The Royal Collection," a menagerie of art forms acquired by British kings and queens over the last 500 years.

The domed ceilings and massively-tall hunter green walls of the Royal salons are enough to intrigue me, and make a stunning backdrop for the Sevre porcelain, the Rembrandts and Flemish oil paintings. Some six-foot tall themselves, the pieces are all priceless and owned by the British Monarchy-- the dowry, I suppose of the newest Princess, Catherine.

It's the most manageable and enjoyable collection in a Gallery I've seen-- just 4 rooms joined by glass doors and the British Royal lineage.

I love the collections. In particular, the ones of the Prince Regent, who became George IV, and the most prolific collector of important works in British Royal history. He's filled his salons with paintings by Stubbs, Van Dyck and Rembrandt,and I'm so delighted to discover them through the audio tour, which is included in admission and you must take it if you go. They don't just read what appears on the plaque beneath each painting; Royal curators and art critics literally transport you into the world of King George-to-be: serenading us with music from the century of the paintings we gaze upon, whilst (I couldn't wait for a reason to use that word)listening to the explanation of what makes the pictures so grand, or important.

It's an hour of blissful time-travel-- and a kind of cultural-revolution for me--discovering some startling stories behind the paintings that give me plenty of story ideas. But we must be heading to Rubens, which is across the street from the Royal Mews, where we're booked to have the afternoon tea I've been waiting to enjoy for the past three months.

You have to reserve months ahead to get the window seat for tea at Rubens in the Palace Hotel Lounge, and we sink into the plush cushions of the settee, peering out at the Mews.

"You sure I won't be the only guy doing this?" Rich asks me. "Of course not," I assure him, even though there are two women beside us enjoying the champagne tea and no men in sight. Rich's interest perks up when he eyes the tiered cake stand on display in the window, laden with sweets and scones dripping of chocolate.

"Are those ours or display?" he asks. We wait to find out as our server welcomes us to tea and asks us which pots of tea we'll be having. Since you can have as many as you like, I go for the Earl Grey to start and the pot is about a 5-cupper,poured gingerly into my porcelain teacup through a sterling silver strainer by a smiling young man who says it's their custom blend. It's so fragrant and delicious, I get Rich to try it. He agrees it's the best traditional tea he's ever had, even better than his Rooibos red bush.

We order the Afternoon Tea, which starts off with finger sandwiches. (If you go, make sure to try the chicken salad in the shiny buns they call rolls. They are delicious). Rich kindly asks if he can have some more and eats about four. We raise our teacups to the many sightseers on double-decker buses that stop in front of the Mews and eyeing us with envy, as a pianist entertains the room with show tunes from a baby grand.

I go for the Oriental Sencha tea when the scones arrive, little mini-versions of the ubiquitous fist-sized ones served at all the bakeries--some raisin, others chocolate or plain. I love any dessert that's dense and doughy and these are really special. Almost as good as the Henderson's cherry scones in Edinburgh and much lighter-tasting. We have them with clotted cream, house-made strawberry jam,(which I wish they'd sell. They would make a fortune),and a kind of chocolate-hazelnut butter that Rich slathers his entire scone with.

I nibble on a smoked salmon finger sandwich, my second favorite of the sandwiches, as well as a tomato avocado.Finally, I go back to Earl Grey for the top tier of the cake stand.(We get our own, by the way. Turns out the one in the window is the display.)

The top of our cake stand is devoted entirely to sweets like peanut butter milk chocolate mousse, pineapple custard they call a financier, vanilla cheesecake and what becomes the crowning dessert of the trip-- a red velvet-colored macaroon stuffed with fresh raspberries and infused with rosewater and lychee. It's topped with a single petal from a red rose.

A leisurely two hours later and we're absolutely stuffed and tea-logged but surprisingly, we're the first to leave the lounge. So it is true when they say, "Expect to spend the afternoon when you're at tea in London."

On our way home, a London Bobby on horseback stops traffic. The carriage club is just returning to the Royal Mews from its afternoon in Hyde Park.

But I can't imagine them having a more enjoyable time than Rich and I had at Rubens.

Meeting Educators & Kids

Rich and I had the chance to speak with educators at the Barnes & Noble in Manchester, New Hampshire and we really enjoyed meeting local high school and elementary school librarians and teachers. We had tea and cakes and talked about our novels, then chatted to some of the attendees after.

What was really special though, was heading to the Barnes and Noble in Nashua right after and signing books there. The events co-ordinator timed our visit perfectly. Students from a nearby Catholic school were just finishing their poetry readings (lots of great odes to their teachers!)so we had a captive audience.

We sold out of our books and got to chat with little Jack (pictured below with Rich),

and lots of other kids who were looking for summer reads.

The store was really busy and though it's quite huge, still has the feel of a local bookstore, with helpful and enthusiastic staff who know about books.

First School Visit on Dr. Seuss's Birthday

I couldn't think of a better event to celebrate Dr. Seuss's birthday than to participate in my first school visit! Rich and I spoke to the entire Wheelock Elementary School in Keene, New Hampshire. Librarian Eva Roeder had the library all set up for us to speak to the classes, from kindergarten through to fifth grade. It was so much fun!

I spoke about LITTLE JOE and read my favorite parts from the book. Rich read BALL HOGS, from Kickers -- the four-book soccer series -- and SPORTS CAMP. Most popular with the kids were the blown-up pictures of all the farm animals in LITTLE JOE, like Spider, the barn cat and Tater, Eli's dog, who's a lot like my dog, Lucy.

Rich's HIGHLIGHTS FOR CHILDREN magazine giveaway to all the kindergartners and first-graders was majorly huge. They rolled onto their stomachs and started coloring immediately. The group loved listening to Rich read THE TIMBERTOES (he writes them), and the fourth and fifth-graders enjoyed getting grossed-out hearing the ghost story from SPORTS CAMP.

But the number one element surprise came when I had a few of the students open up the show box to see what was inside. (Can't tell you or it would spoil your school visit!)

The biggest elements of surprise for me were all those intriguing questions the students asked, from if we were really married,(the answer is yes), to if Little Joe was in the show box and if I could bring him for our next visit.

Everyone took first place for their enthusiasm and went home with a blue ribbon, courtesy of LITTLE JOE. But Rich and I went home with lots more story ideas, glowing from the warmth of the great Wheelock welcome we received.Thanks so much Wheelock!!

BEST IN SHOW: Mason & his class for going the extra mile (just like the swim in SPORTS CAMP)and drawing me with LITTLE JOE and Rich with Big Joe, the snapping turtle in SPORTS CAMP.

RUNNER UP: Our third-grader who paints houses the color of flesh. How many illustrators can say that?

BEST QUESTION: Where do I keep Little Joe while I'm writing?

BEST IN CLASS OUTFIT: Tied: A fourth-grader Star Wars belt buckle-- super awesome!And his best friend's mohawk.

HONORABLE MENTION: Second-grader bejeweled tiaras, and the third-grader Pippi Longstocking's socks. Perfect for being a pirate, later on.

Little Joe Chosen For Agriculture In The Classroom

Writing realistic fiction involves plenty of research, especially if you're delving into a subject you may know very little about. The best compliment you can get is from the community you're writing about. That's why I'm so honored that LITTLE JOE has been chosen by the U.S. Department of Agriculture as a selection for its national reading program called, Agriculture In the Classroom. You can link to it below. And the Illinois Department of Agriculture actually created a great Companion Guide about LITTLE JOE for classroom study, that's entirely agriculture-themed and really fun.

http://www.agclassroom.org/directory/search_result_details.cfm?PID=3113

www.agintheclassroom.org/060605/New/LittleJoe.pdf

Immersing myself in the world of my characters is the only way the characters themselves can get developed further and become, "people." While I did plenty of reading before I wrote LITTLE JOE(Storey's Guide to Raising Beefe Cattle still fascinates me), the best kind of research, if possible, is to actually be in the environment you're writing about. These experiences often tell me where to go or not to go with my story.

I'd been living in farm country in northern Pennsylvania during the writing of the novel, where the cattle I talked about chewed their cud 20 feet from my office window. I saw how they reacted in a snow storm, what they did on a crispy autumn morning, and how different that was once they were transported into the heat and the frenzy of the fair. I'd had grandparents who were crops farmers, but I'd lived in urban environments for most of my life and had never been around many farm animals.

But the most valuable times were spent watching the kids at the fair. As their competition life and the relationships they had with their animals unfolded, I saw it all sitting in the bleachers or on a hay bale in the show barn. That's really where my novel took shape.

Some people have asked me what comes first, writing or research? I'd say both. I find if I do too much research before writing it can deaden any emotion or put too much thought into a conversation and make the writing clinical. When I do read something that excites me, I make a note of that and sometimes stop at that point and write. It's a constant flow between the two and I often write scenes that will find their way in the middle of my novel, as I don't write in chronological order.

Sometimes, I'll get the heat of a scene down fresh after observing it either in my head or in actuality, then later, flesh it out with accurate information in narration or lightly sprinkled into dialogue always asking myself, would my character really say that and in this way?

And of course, when the inability to write inevitably surfaces, and it always does, research is a great way to still make progress on your work.