The “B”-word and Other Homophones

Writing for children means reading to children. Out loud. In bookstores, libraries, and schools, in front of parents, teachers, and curious onlookers. Afterwards, the children will ask questions. At least, their hovering adult charges will want them to. They’ll be...

The Timeless Song of the Unsung Hero

I remember monopolizing the office hours of one of my professors in graduate school, a well known British author, by filling the time with pretentious talk of the literary life — as if we were somehow peers. Perhaps “monopolizing” isn’t the right word. There was...

“For country, mail, and Genevieve!”

On Tuesday morning, at midnight plus one second, somewhere in the labyrinthine switch matrix of the Amazon.com computing cloud, a zero became a one, and my new book, The Mighty Lalouche, officially went on sale. This is my first picture book, a collaboration with the...

Arise sleeping lemons, for thy stew has come.

The gift had been sitting in a forgotten corner of the refrigerator for two and half years. And no, this wasn’t a case of poor kitchen hygeine. The refrigerator had been cleaned out several times since that long-ago Christmas. Countless containers of moldering...

The Home of the Free and the Bomb

The night of the Boston Marathon bombing, Wenrui (“When-Ray”) our Chinese homestay student, got a worried phone call from her mother. This was perfectly understandable. The bombing was big news in China, and not just because one of the victims of the blast was a...

Can you hear the frogs? How about now?

Of all the things I imagined doing on a starry spring night on St. Peters Church Road, Skyping with China wasn’t one of them. There we were on the back porch, under a pristine canopy of stars, the peepers going full tilt in the little pond, the glow of Harrisburg...