"Please?" said the girl with the pink-beaded pigtails, gazing shyly at the copy of my book, DOTTY, in my hands. I had just read it aloud and she, along with every child in her class, had received a copy from First Book.

I tried to correct her confusion. "This is my book, and you’re holding yours. See, I signed yours already. And you can put your name in it right here." I showed her the First Book bookplate inside the book.

"I want that one, too," she said, pointing.

Now I was confused. "But it's the same book. You don't want two copies of the same book, do you?"

"Not for me," she explained. "My sister needs a book of her own, too."

Before I started working with First Book, I took book ownership for granted. Sure, some kids are lucky enough to have groaning bookshelves threatening to crush them like Flat Stanley. But all kids have some books... don't they?

They don’t. According to the research of Susan B. Neuman—and confirmed by my author visits to struggling schools across the U.S.—children from low-income homes suffer from a staggering lack of access to quality reading material. In poor neighborhoods, there are as few as one age appropriate book for every 300 children. In Neuman’s book, GIVING OUR CHILDREN A FIGHTING CHANCE: POVERTY, LITERACY, AND THE DEVELOPMENT OF INFORMATION CAPITAL, she makes a strong argument that children from low-income homes can make significant gains and realize a wide range of opportunities through book ownership and increased access to books and print.

That's where First Book comes in. We provide brand-new high-quality books and resources to educators serving kids in need. But to do it most effectively, we need one thing.

Your help.

Why? Simple. You are in the classroom every day, and you can offer us the best guidance on what all students need to have and want to read. By signing up with First Book—and encouraging fellow educators to do so—you can add your voice to those of teachers all across North America who are helping us to provide more resources, meet more needs, and level the playing field so that ALL students can become readers and leaders.

p: Shopping Sherpa via photopin cc

First Book is available to any educator working with kids in need at a Title I or Title I eligible school—teachers, librarians, principals, reading specialists. Those who work in more affluent communities can still be great friends of First Book and help spread the word about us so we can reach more kids in need.

We have books for all kids, birth to age eighteen, we distribute over 11 million new books every year (over 100 million since our founding in 1992), and we work with a growing national network of over 50,000 schools and programs in the United States and Canada.

We have some different distribution channels, depending on the needs of the program, but the books are always brand-new and always high-quality. Our most innovative breakthrough is the First Book Marketplace, where anyone signed up with First Book can choose from a selection of over 4,000 award-winning and popular titles at 50–90% off retail, shipping included.

To sign up with First Book today, go to www.firstbook.org/register.

My job at First Book focuses on what I love—the books themselves, and our publisher and author partnerships. Our new program, Authors & Illustrators in Action!, offers authors and illustrators tools so they can use to easily connect eligible programs and schools with our resources. More information can be found on our website at www.firstbook.org/authors.

We are particularly focused on offering a wide selection of multicultural books as well as stories from under-represented voices. We just launched the Stories for All Project, purchasing over a million dollars worth of culturally relevant titles. Prominent authors, including Sharon Draper, Walter Dean Myers, and Lulu Delacre have added their voices to ours on the important message that children need to see themselves in books as well as to have the opportunity to explore cultures and characters beyond their own experiences through books.

Still holding my copy of DOTTY, I stared at the girl with the pigtails. DOTTY is a book about a girl named Ida whose imaginary friend Dotty is a source of comfort when other children turn on her and tease her. It is also the story of a teacher who shows Ida that they have more in common than it would appear on the surface. Through DOTTY, I try to show readers that imagination can be a friend you don’t ever have to outgrow.

Was there something about this particular story that spoke to this particular child? Or was she just looking to avoid having to share what was clearly a rare commodity in her home?

And did it matter?

I want to live in a world where all children have books that are their own, books that can be their friends for life. With First Book, I feel like we’re working together to build that world, as well as a superhighway to it.

But we’re not there yet. Which is why we need you.

Erica S. Perl, the author of books for young readers including WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU O.J. and DOTTY, is the Vice President of Publisher and Author Relations for First Book. You can contact her at eperl@firstbook.org.



Bringing Children, Dogs, and Books Together

One Equally Effective but Lower-Cost Option to Summer School

How would my childhood self have reacted, if you’d told me that someday I’d be blogging about Children’s Book Week for the International Reading Association?

I would have wondered what blogging is. Then I might have said:

I’m very, very, very, very, very, very proud!
Proud as a blue sky without a cloud
Proud as a brass band playing very loud
I’m very, very proud (and my mom will be wowed!)

That sounds about right. I liked similes, and I have been known to use “very” the way Starbucks uses ice cubes to make a small iced coffee fit a Grande-sized cup.

I am proud. And I feel lucky, too, because this is my first Children’s Book Week as a published author-illustrator. It’s not because I’m young (as you can see from my author photo). I came to children’s books late. I’ve loved writing and drawing my whole life, but unlike many of my colleagues, I didn’t make it my work until I was almost forty.

In Brooklyn, where I live, you can’t throw a rock without hitting an award-winning author or illustrator, many with impressive educational and professional pedigrees, and none deserving to be hit with rocks. I don’t deserve to be hit with a rock, either, even though I have little formal training to make picture books—no writing MFA, no illustration degree.

My lack of preparation gave me a lot of agita when Michael Green of Philomel Books offered me my first picture book contract. Not enough to make me say no, but enough to make me worry the entire time I was creating the book. I still remember delivering the final art for BABY PENGUINS EVERYWHERE! to Penguin Young Readers Group HQ, and feeling like I was going to throw up as Michael and my art director, Semadar Megged, walked around the conference room inspecting it.



I shouldn't have worried nearly as much. BABY PENGUINS EVERYWHERE! turned out well. Philomel offered me a contract for two more books. A piece of my book art was featured at the Society of Illustrators last December. Walking around that show felt very different than walking around the conference room had, 11 months earlier. I could finally begin to see what I offer to the world of children’s books.

I’m not the most proficient artist. I wish I could paint and draw as well as some of my illustrator friends. I might be more skilled had I studied art for years, but I didn’t. Still, my work has things going for it. One art director told me it’s “fresh.” I’m not sure what that means but I think she was saying, I like the way you do what you don’t quite know how to do.

I hope that’s what she meant, because I do like being a beginner. I welcome the uncertainty that comes with doing something new, whether it’s sleeping in the wilderness or playing drums or making a book about penguins. That’s part of my personality, which I have strengthened by the experience of trying lots of things.



I can also thank my many great teachers for this trait. That list of teachers includes my scientist parents, who valued curiosity as well as achievement, and shared with me their love of books and experiments. My sister and I were always encouraged to ask questions, and my parents were mostly patient as we figured things out. (At times, questions like “How long do you think it will be until the policeman finishes writing the ticket?” or “Why doesn't the door unlock from this side?” weren't appreciated.)

Given what I can offer, I’ve decided to use this wonderful platform from IRA to make the following suggestion about Children’s Book Week:

Don’t just enjoy the wonderful children’s books that are out there—MAKE ONE YOURSELF.

Yes, as the official 2013 standard-bearer of Not Knowing Exactly What You’re Doing, I propose you make a book this week, even if you’re positive you’d be bad at it (and I suspect you’d be good at it). I’m a picture book person, so of course I’m talking about a picture book.

If you’re hesitating, consider this: children spend years at the intersection of low ability and high enthusiasm. You can spend a few days there. If you don’t want to try it alone, invite a collaborator (child or adult) to join you. And if you’re unsure about how to dive in, just follow my step-by-step instructions!

1. Pick a character (e.g. child, fish, blade of grass). Pick another character (e.g. bird, another blade of grass, crackpot). Give them something to do together. Something short. If you can’t think of an ending, just close with “It was fun,” or “It was a terrible idea and they never did it again.”
2. (Everyone forgets this part) Write down what you thought of before you forget it!
3. Make pictures! Draw new ones. Cut up old ones and put them back together in a new way. Don’t worry about whether you’re a good artist or a bad artist.
4. Put the story and the pictures together in order. Glue them, tape them, collage them like a ransom note.
5. Celebrate, because you just made a picture book! Share what you made with other people. Show them your original work. Hand out copies. Or just keep it to yourself.

You may be saying, “Those aren’t real instructions.” I know, and there’s a good reason for that. There are almost no absolute rules for making a picture book. The elasticity of the form is what makes picture books so wonderful to create and enjoy.

As further incentive for the intrepid, I will share any creation you’re proud to send me on my blog. Just email it to me by the end of May, at melissaguion@me.com.

While you do this, I’ll be right there next to you making notes for my third book. I’ll be reading with my daughter, and going around town in my new penguin costume. And I’ll be joining fellow authors and artists at free literacy events throughout the country. Find out what’s going on near you at http://www.bookweekonline.com!

However you choose to celebrate, find a way to make Children’s Book Week lots of fun for yourself and the people you love.

Melissa Guion is the author-illustrator of BABY PENGUINS EVERYWHERE! and the upcoming BABY PENGUINS LOVE THEIR MAMA! She is proud to be part of an upcoming children’s book art auction raising money for anti-censorship efforts: the auction launches online on Saturday, May 18th, and concludes at Book Expo America on Wednesday, May 29. Visit www.melissaguion.com or http://abffesilentauction.wordpress.com/preview-art/ for more information.



5 Questions With... Salina Yoon (PENGUIN AND PINECONE)

Book Reviews to Celebrate Children's Book Week

I was raised in a financially poor household in the late ’50s to early ’70s. I know now that we were rich in the things that matter, but no one could have convinced me of that when I was a lonely child looking for toys to occupy my long days while my two older sisters went off to that glorious place called school. Not having much stuff and having too much time on my hands afforded me the blessing of a vivid imagination. I loved to play “school.” I loved books and the power they held. I loved to write important information on every scrap piece of paper I could find. No envelope or piece of mail was safe from my “school work.”

In the weeks leading up to my first day of school, I spent a considerable amount of time wondering what my first teacher would be like. Would she have a nice smile? Would she be young and pretty, or would it be the same teacher my sister had three years earlier? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get her. There were pros and cons. A pro was that she liked my sister, so surely she would like me. There were, however, more cons. She was old, and only smiled half-smiles. She wore high-top nanny shoes like Mary Poppins. Mary Poppins was stern but fun, though—this woman was just stern.

Well, I ended up getting my sister’s old, un-fun teacher, but the important thing was that I finally made it to school. I had finally entered the fantasy land of books and papers and pencils.

For five long years I had watched my sisters wait at the end of the driveway for that elusive school bus. Their arms would be piled high with books and notebooks. They looked so important. I fantasized about the day I could join them on that bus. I envisioned my arms over-loaded with books stacked to my chin. When the first day of school finally arrived, I could hardly contain my enthusiasm.

So you can imagine my disappointment to learn that first graders weren’t allowed to take their own paper and pencils to school, and we had to leave our books there too. Getting on that bus empty-handed was just about more than I could bear. I had to take action.

One afternoon, I collected every old workbook I could find that my sisters had from their earlier school days. When that bus rolled up the road the next morning, I was ready, my arms loaded, just like the big kids. Upon my arrival at school, I dutifully placed that stack of books underneath my desk. And then I promptly forgot about them, until the student next to me raised her hand and said, “Sandy has two workbooks!”

I didn’t know what she was talking about. But the teacher rushed over to my desk, grabbed my sister’s previously used workbook from under my desk, angrily thumbed to the page we were working on, and proceeded to tell the class what a low-life cheater I was.

“You even missed the same problem!” she snapped. She seemed very proud of herself, as if she had busted an evil cheating ring with her tremendous sleuthing skills. She was going to make an example of me if it was the last thing she did in her teaching career. In one brief encounter on that fall morning, this teacher single-handedly transformed a little six-year-old girl from a child who could barely contain her enthusiasm for books and learning, to a child who absolutely dreaded each subsequent school day. I no longer jumped out of bed in the mornings excited to go to school. Books no longer held that magical place in my life. And I was not about to be caught dead with a book in my hands at school!

Without that needed practice, my reading skills reached a plateau. My comprehension was terrible. My mind wandered as I read, and I would often find myself reading page after page, never knowing a thing they said.

That is not to say I didn’t sound like a good reader. I never missed a spelling word, and my vocabulary was that of a third grader. My high school sister was so proud of my skills, she asked me to showcase my talent for her boyfriend by reading the back of the Crest toothpaste tube for him. (This highly intellectualized sales claim is still etched in the useless information lobe of my brain.) But in the recesses of my mind, I was at recess!

I’m sure my first-grade teacher never picked up on my lost zeal for reading, and she certainly never troubled herself to discover my comprehension problem. In fact, she never really engaged with me the rest of the year. I stayed under her radar, and I was just fine with that.

Near the end of that school year, she called each child to her desk to read individually. No problem. I was the best out-loud reader in the whole class. When it came my turn, I approached the desk and read this paragraph about candy. Only, that day I had a problem confusing my lower case d with my b. So every time I came across the word “candy,” I pronounced it can-BUY.

My teacher allowed me to read through an entire story about can-BUY. When I finished, she said, “Well done, but that word is candy.”

Shouldn’t that have been a clue to her that I didn’t comprehend a thing I was reading? Who goes to the store to buy canby? What is canby? Again, this woman squandered a teachable moment.

I received exemplary grades that year, and my reading problem was never discovered. I managed to make good grades through high school as well. (Perhaps that’s an indictment of Georgia schools in the ’60s and ’70s.)

As an adult, I have learned to employ some strategies to help me stay focused. I still read aloud. I try to visualize everything I read, and apply it to my own life when possible. And when all my strategies fail, I read a passage two or three times until it sinks in.

Now What?

p: Old Shoe Woman via photopin cc

We learn from everyone we encounter, the good and the bad. From my first grade teacher, I learned the damage that can be done to an impressionable young mind and spirit. She broke my spirit, and caused me to be turned off by books and pleasure reading. It took many years of introspection to discern the real damage. If my teacher had spoken to me in private about my little book fetish, without resorting to public humiliation, I suspect I would have had an entirely different attitude about school and reading. If she had only employed some teaching strategies to help me with my obvious comprehension problem, it may have prevented me from being a college dropout.

As much as I would like to blame all my failures in life on my first grade teacher, I can’t do it. To be honest, I was just a tad lazy in college the first time around. But I do believe if I had been a strong reader, it would have made a world of difference. (So, no, I’m not going to let her off the hook completely.)

I was a student who was left behind before “left behind” became a political buzz phrase. In elementary school, I was quiet and caused no trouble. I did as I was told. Aren’t those the people in most of life’s situations who seem to get left behind? The non-complainers, the non-tattle-tales, the rule-followers—they’re the squeak-free wheels that don’t get greased.

I contend it’s that middle-of-the-road student who has the greatest untapped potential to grow and expand his horizons. That’s also the student who will absolutely thrill any teacher who is willing to look at him or her as a human being rather than a task or statistic.

My first-grade experiences have made me acutely aware of the power teachers hold. I hope that I will always use it to be an encourager. I hope I will be keenly tuned to the student who is struggling quietly. I hope that I will be able to ask the right questions to get to the heart of his or her struggles.

After a career in retail management and consulting, Sandy McClure returned to college to pursue a degree in secondary English education. She is currently teaching and writing. In 2011, her first children’s book, THINGS I PONDER, was published. It was a finalist in the children’s division for the 2012 Georgia Author of the Year Awards. Sandy and her sisters also published a children’s epic, THE CHIPMUNK FAMILY ODYSSEY. For more information about these books, visit www.threeheartcreations.com.



Reflections of a Former Alliterate Reader