If there is one thing I tend to be good at, it's making connections — between things, between people, between seemingly disparate events. I love when something makes me look at the world in a completely different way or prompts me to link two ideas or facts that I previously might never have included in the same sentence.

It's for the same reason that I love the weekly radio program "This American Life," produced by Chicago Public Radio. Even for a perpetual connector of dots like me, TAL is the ultimate ear candy. Each week Ira Glass and his staff of documentarians choose a theme, find stories to fit that theme, then splice them together into an hour-long broadcast that is always insightful, often surprising, and frequently very, very funny, at least in parts. I have had more "ah-ha!" moments listening to TAL than I could begin to count, and the best part is that even when I listen to the same broadcast multiple times (and, yes, I sometimes do this), I experience those moments all over again.

What does this have to do with children's books? A couple of months ago TAL did a program with the theme "My Brilliant Plan," in which each of the stories was about someone who had had a brilliant plan of one sort or another that (as you might guess) didn't turn out exactly the way they had hoped.

Such was the case for Ronald Mallett, as explained in Act II of "My Brilliant Plan," called "Tragedy Minus Time Equals Happily Ever After." When Ron was ten years old, his father died suddenly of a heart attack. A year later Ron's life was markedly changed when he read the Classics Illustrated comic book edition of The Time Machine by H.G. Wells. Ron became obsessed with the idea of building a time machine that would enable him to travel back to the 1950's, so that he could warn his (then young) father that he needed to take better care of himself or he would die at an early age.

When Ron's initial attempt to build a time machine failed, he didn't assume that his overall plan was flawed or that time travel was impossible. He assumed that because he'd read an abridged version of Wells' classic story, he must be lacking some key details. So he read the original, unexpurgated version of The Time Machine and tried again. And again. And again. And again. For more than fifty years.

Today Ron Mallett is a well-respected physicist whose field of expertise is (yes) time travel. He's even written a book about his career path — the one that began with his reading what we in the children's book business frequently refer to as "the right book at the right time."

It's the idea of "the right book at the right time" that makes it such a joy to put books in the hands of children and young adults. I love knowing that the potential exists for them to take the ideas and stories on these pages and build entire futures out of them — perhaps not on a scale as wide-reaching as that of Ron Mallett, but certainly on one that lasts as long. Take me, for example.  I think of Nancy Drew every time I switch on a flashlight. I think of Bill and Pete every time I buy a toothbrush.

And I think of "This American Life" every time I sell a copy of The Borrowers. After you've listened to Ron Mallett's story, do yourself the favor of listening to Act Four, "Age of Enchantment" from TAL episode 106, originally broadcast on Father's Day, 1998. In it you will feel the pain of a father confessing how he wrote letters to his young daughter, pretending to be the member of a family living within their basement walls. His on-air conversation with his daughter is one you will never forget.

I also recommend listening to yesterday's radio treat, delivered not by the Easter Bunny but by "Studio 360" (another insightful program on public radio). The entire episode was devoted to The Great Gatsby and the entire episode was GREAT.

In honor of both Passover and Easter, I thought I'd recommend two religious picture books that transcend the boundaries of belief, focused as they are on the ethics of kindness and generosity. My observation is that these books seem to speak to anyone with a heart, regardless of affiliation.

Bagels from Benny
by Aubrey Davis, illustrated by Dusan Petricic (Kids Can, 4-up)

In this wonderful, wonderful picture book, Benny is told that he has God to thank for the beautiful bagels that emerge daily from the oven in his grandfather's bakery. Believing that he should somehow return the favor, Benny begins a secret ritual on Fridays of leaving bagels in the synogogue's Holy Ark. Each Saturday he sees that the bagels have disappeared and believes God must be eating them. The truth behind their disappearance results in a meaningful lesson for Benny and a memorable read for you. This is a clever adaptation of a classic Jewish folk tale, perfectly captured by Petricic's cross-hatched watercolor illustrations.

The Golden Rule
by Ilene Cooper, illustrated by Gabi Swiatkowska (4-up)

This striking new book is as complex and beautiful as the details in its cover illustration would suggest. That might be why it's our store's second bestselling picture book so far this year. In Cooper's story, a boy and his grandfather (an unintentional theme of these reviews) discuss how different the world would be if more people (and nations) would practice the Golden Rule. Swiatkowska's stunning illustrations swirl with images culled from various religious traditions, emphasizing the grandfather's words about the universality of the Rule and its overall importance. This is a book for readers of all ages to read, savor, and contemplate.

(For those of you wondering, the picture book that's currently outselling The Golden Rule at our store is Fancy Nancy by Jane O'Connor, illustrated by Robin Preiss Glasser.)

It’s been a busy week for me at the store, what with our having had an Educators’ Open House last Thursday plus a WONDERFUL event with Richard Peck at the Wellesley Free Library last Saturday. (Be sure to read his new book On the Wings of Heroes.) For the past couple days I’ve been attempting to fill several school orders; finalize the details of upcoming events with Mo Willems, Jacqueline Davies and Rick Riordan; and shelve, shelve, shelve the plethora of new books arriving at the store daily and begging for face-out space.

As I was doing the latter I was reminded of a few of my publishing pet peeves, which seemed like an excellent topic to explore in this blog entry. I can see a few of you publishers shifting nervously in your seats, but you needn’t worry too much. Most of you aren’t doing these annoying things, and those of you who are aren’t doing them with any consistency. Nevertheless, if you’re doing them at all this is where you’ll find me asking you politely to STOP DOING THEM. Please.

In no particular order, here are 3 of my publishing pet peeves:

1. Absence of a plot summary anywhere on the book’s cover or dust jacket.
Just because a new book is by, say, Laurie Halse Anderson does not mean every customer knows Laurie Halse Anderson’s name. And even if a customer does know Laurie Halse Anderson’s name, that does not mean they’ll absolutely positively want to read her new book without knowing a lick of what it’s about. Not to mention the fact that less-well-informed booksellers and librarians who sell or circulate a book like Twisted won’t have any clue as to the content of the book they are putting in their customers’/patrons’ hands, which puts them in a very tricky position. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, give the people selling and buying your books the opportunity to know what it is they are selling and buying. Printing “EVERYBODY TOLD ME TO BE A MAN. NOBODY TOLD ME HOW,” on the inside jacket flap is not enough. Nor are quotes that espouse the book’s virtues without telling us what happens in the plot. Give us a plot summary. Please. Thank you.

2. Half jackets and die-cut covers.
Sometimes when publishers feel a whole lot of excitement about a new book, they decide to put half a dust jacket around it, believing that this looks somehow different and original enough to entice an extra cadre of readers. NEWSFLASH: it results in damaged book covers. Always. Period. Let’s suppose for a moment that you’ve just published a book called Atherton #1: The House of Power by, say… Patrick Carman. You think it will draw more readers to wrap half a jacket around the book, so you do. Trouble is, when customers handle that book roughly (which they will), that jacket will rip. I guarantee it. And the bookseller carrying that book will get frustrated and return those books to you as damaged. They might choose to replace those returned copies with new, undamaged copies or they might say, “To heck with it!” and never put the book on the shelf again.

The same thing can happen when you cut cleverly shaped holes in the covers of your paperback books. Frustrated booksellers will find themselves regretfully returning otherwise great books like Love Among the Walnuts by Jean Ferris, on which the chicken-shaped die-cut never fails to rip in multiple places, making new copies of the book look anything but.

Once upon a time my boyfriend came home from a meeting at Candlewick Press in which the creative-powers-that-be discussed putting a half jacket around their beautiful, beautiful new edition of his Beowulf graphic novel. These same intelligent powers-that-be later decided (perhaps swayed in part by the objections of a certain girlfriend, but perhaps not) to do a full jacket that has the appearance of a half jacket, for which I suspect booksellers, librarians, and Beowulf readers are much better off.

3. Lack of publication dates on the covers of Advance Reading Copies.
Believe it or not, some of us booksellers pay close attention to the publication dates printed on our galleys, in part because we receive so very, VERY many of them every season and we have to weed our galley shelves on a regular basis in order to make room for the newest arrivals. Some of you are printing the publication dates of your books on the inside pages of your ARCs. This is not in booksellers’ best interest, as it creates more work for us. It’s not in your best interest, as it makes us annoyed with you. A few wonderful, thoughtful, generous publishers have adopted the practice of printing publication dates on the spines of their ARCs, and to them I say, “Bless you.” To the rest of you I say, “PLEASE print the publication dates of your books on the spines of your ARCs.” The booksellers of the world will thank you.

I’m slightly late helping to spread the news, but as the Chair of the 2007 E. B. White Read Aloud Awards committee, I am THRILLED to share with you the winners of the 2007 E. B. White Read Aloud Awards, announced on Monday by the Association of Booksellers for Children.

The winner of the 2007 E. B. White Read Aloud Award for Picture Books is Houndsley and Catina by James Howe, illustrated by Marie-Louise Gay (Candlewick).

The winner of the 2007 E. B. White Read Aloud Award for Older Readers is: Alabama Moon by Watt Key (Farrar, Straus & Giroux).

The books selected for this award are granted the honor of a shiny gold seal sporting the Charlotte-esque expression “TERRIFIC BOOK.” (I happen to think it’s about the coolest-looking seal a book could ever hope to wear.) The winners will officially receive their awards at the ABC Annual Secret Garden Silent Auction & Evening with Children’s Booksellers on Friday, June 1st during BEA.

If you’re not already familiar with these awards, then read on as I quote from our official press release:

The Association of Booksellers for Children (ABC), founded in 1984, is a national organization made up of independent children’s booksellers and other individuals that support independent bookselling. The E. B. White Read Aloud Award, established in 2004, honors a book that reflects the universal read aloud standards that were established by the work of the beloved author E. B. White in his classic books for children: Charlotte’s Web, Stuart Little, and The Trumpet of the Swan. Each year members nominate a list of new books that they believe most embody this ideal, and a committee of booksellers determines the winner. The award is announced annually on the first Monday in April. In 2006, in recognition of the fact that reading aloud is a pleasure to be enjoyed by readers of all ages, the award was expanded to include two categories, The E. B. White Read Aloud Award for Picture Books, and the E. B. White Read Aloud Award for Older Readers. ABC members chose books for distinction based on their universal appeal as a “terrific” book to read aloud.

Previous Winners of the E. B. White Read Aloud Award:
2004: Skippyjon Jones by Judy Schachner
2005: Wild About Books by Judy Sierra, illustrated by Marc Brown
2006: Picture Book: If I Built a Car by Chris Van Dusen
Older Readers: Each Little Bird That Sings by DeborahWiles

This year’s awards committee was comprised of booksellers from three independent bookstores in three different regions of the country: Ellen Richmond of The Children’s Book Cellar in Waterville, Maine; Margaret Poppe of Books & Books in Coral Gables, Florida; Kimberly Diehm of The Neverending Story in Las Vegas, Nevada. As the Chair of the committee, I was more than ably assisted by fellow ABC Board member Linda Higham of The Storyteller in Lafayette, California. Linda and I helped facilitate and lead the lively discussion of this year’s winners, with wonderful results! And, no, I did not try to steer the committee in the direction of my favorite books (which I mention for the benefit of those of you who’ve read my blog entry about Alabama Moon). It is true that I am tremendously fond of both books selected for this year’s awards, but so are the members of this year’s awards committee. So are most of the booksellers I’ve spoken with. And so I hope are you! Find a child (or book-loving adult) to read aloud to and give these (award-winning!) books a try.

Scholastic has released the cover art for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which has all of us at the store theorizing about what the images might mean. What do YOU think we’re seeing, and what do YOU think it means for Harry’s next (and final) adventure??

Here’s how the front will appear:

Here’s the art for the entire jacket, which will obviously wrap around the book (scroll down below to see it, if the sidebars get in your way):

I must say, I’m a bit disappointed in the cover. I don’t dislike the illustration Mary GrandPré has created, but I do find the design rather unimaginative. I certainly don’t look at the book and think, “WOW. Now THAT is a cover!!” It seems to me that this record-setting book should, above all others, announce itself to the world. Instead it says, “I’m the next book in the Harry Potter series.” For $34.99 I expect a little more fanfare.

That said, the American cover is still vastly superior to the British cover, as — blimey! — I really don’t like the illustration:

What do you think? Is either up to snuff? I’m curious to hear other people’s reactions.

While it's true that I mostly read books written for children and young adults, I do sometimes find time to read "grown-up" stuff. I'd like now to call your attention to a book published for adults that is well-worth knowing about, even if your primary focus is books for the younger set.

Holy Tango of Literature by Francis Heaney is a brilliantly funny, terribly clever book of poetry that belongs in the home library of every word-lover, poetry-lover, humorist and middle school or high school English teacher. Here's how publisher Emmis Books describes it:

"Holy Tango of Literature is a unique and captivating collection mimicking the great writers of literary history. This devilishly witty book has a twist: Each writer's name is rearranged as a title, creating the subject for a parody rendered in the author's style."

Confused yet? I don't blame you. Perhaps an example will help to clarify things.

Heaney took Emily Dickinson's name and out of it created (found?) the anagram "skinny domicile." He then wrote a poem called "Skinny Domicile" in a perfect parody of Emily Dickinson's distinct writing style. It begins like this:

I have a skinny Domicile—
Its Door is very narrow.
’Twill keep—I hope—the Reaper out—
His Scythe—and Bones—and Marrow.

There's William Carlos Williams (I Will Alarm Islamic Owls), e. e. cummings (nice smug me), Dorothy Parker (Dreary Hot Pork), and many, many more — each of them the perfect homage to their subjects.

Now that you are opening another window to order a copy of this book via Booksense.com or calling me to reserve a copy at our bookstore, you may be both pleased and surprised to learn that the entire text of Holy Tango is available (gasp!) online. In a move that seems both crazy and (I have to say) rather brilliant, Heaney has convinced Emmis Books that he can sell more copies of his book by allowing everyone the opportunity to read it. The idea is that you will read these poems and become so enchanted by them that you will want to own the physical book AND want to purchase copies for your friends.

I'm fascinated by this notion, because it presents an interesting twist to the e-book concept that has some booksellers quaking in their boots, wondering if there will soon be anything left for us to shelve. Heaney's theory suggests that the physical books may still exist, but (in the case of authors who accurately predict their own reader-appeal) they may by and large be bought by the people who've already read them.

Is this the wave of the future? You tell me. And would you take this sort of risk with your own book?

I will say these things for the actual book-form copy of Holy Tango: it features high-quality French flaps, an excellent font, and wonderfully clever caricatures of the featured poets, all drawn by Richard Thompson. If you were given an actual book-form copy of Holy Tango, you should look under the front flap to discern whether or not the friend who gave it to you has (like me) discovered a terribly addictive Web site called the Internet Anagram Server (or "I, Rearrangement Servant").

When I first discovered Holy Tango and bought copies for poetry-loving friends, I included an inscription in each that began with an anagram of my friend's name and ended with an anagram of my full name (Alison Louise Morris) — Our Slim Rose Is a Lion. In the course of generating such inscriptions, I stumbled (thankfully) upon the Internet Anagram Server which considerably shortened the amount of time I had to spend scrambling letters, even if it did in some cases generate hundreds of possible combinations. If your own name yields such unwieldy results, I recommend clicking on the Advanced Anagramming link and limiting your options to two- or three-word combinations or combinations that include a specific word you'd like to be sure is part of your anagram. If you're lucky, your results might include a new name as befitting as that of our buyer and resident knitter, Lorna Jean Ruby (Unreal Yarn Job), or a campaign slogan as entertaining as that of our events coordinator, Janet Michelle Potter (Elect John Mitt, A Leper). If they do, be sure to share them with the rest of us here, online, and not just in your finished book.

I thoroughly enjoy my daily subscription to The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor from Public Radio International, which many of you probably hear during your daily commute. Did you know you can receive the text of the program via e-mail? In your inbox each day will arrive a poem + interesting historical events and author birthdays that correspond to each day. 

I was both happy and impressed to see Kate DiCamillo's birthday featured in yesterday's issue, as The Writer's Almanac generally includes relatively few contemporary authors and illustrators of children's and young adult literature. Seeing Kate's name alongside those of Flannery O'Connor and Gloria Steinem suggests to me that Kate has truly reached the status of "household name," at least in those households that include young readers, or have in recent years. Or maybe it just suggests that Garrison Keillor is a Despereaux fan? Either way I say hooray for The Writer's Almanac for thinking Kate's birthday deserves as much mention as those of  Joseph Campbell, Tennessee Williams, and Robert Frost (today's celebrants).

Want to find reasons to celebrate your favorite children's and young adult books EVERY day? I recommend purchasing a copy of the Celebrating Children's Books calendar put together every year by Peaceable Kingdom Press. Each month features an illustration by a different children's book illustrator, and scattered throughout are birthdays of well-known (or at least moderately well-known) children's book authors and illustrators. Looking ahead at my own copy of the calendar I can tell you who you should be celebrating and/or sending cards to in April: Trina Schart Hyman (4/8), Hardie Gramatky (4/12), Frank Remkiewicz (4/14), Garth Williams (4/14), Melissa Sweet (4/19), David Kirk (4/25), and Ludwig Bemelmans (4/28).

Whereas last Friday found me reveling in the joy of a new snowfall, last Saturday found me bemoaning its effects. For a solid hour I shoveled heavy, ice-encrusted snow off our front walk and the length of our driveway, wishing Gareth hadn't left for the weekend and wishing we weren't new to both our street and our neighbors. By the time I'd shoveled out my car I was exhausted and still facing the worst part of the chore — the end of the driveway, where passing snowplows had deposited a daunting pile of ice guaranteed to require another hour's worth of digging.

I'd just started tackling the beast when what should appear out of nowhere but my snowplow in shining armor! A guy I'd never seen before pulled up at a tricky angle (on our busy street) and scraaaaaaape! pushed half the ice pile away. He then backed up at another tricky angle, made the traffic wait for him, and came back in the opposite direction to scrape the other half of the ice pile away. I stood watching him, stunned and slightly embarrassed, until he smiled and waved to me, at which point I put my hands together as if in prayer and shouted "Thank you! Thank you!"

HOW COOL IS THAT?? As my fairy god truck pulled away I saw the words "Tom Taverna, General Contractor, Watertown" written on the side and immediately resolved to do something nice for the man who had, in a matter of seconds changed my neighborhood from urban isolation to the friendliest little spot on earth. I figured I'd send the man a thank-you note, a gift certificate, a lifetime supply of books about nice people. But when I marched inside and began the task of finding him, I got nowhere. No Tom Taverna in any online searches of the surrounding area or on any contractor listings. No Tom Taverna in the phone book. Tom Taverna is (poof!) gone! But let's pretend for one moment that he isn't.

If you were blessed with the kindness of such a stranger and could send them ONE book that would sum up the significance of their good deeds, what would you choose? My own first choice would be Seedfolks by Paul Fleischman, which is hands-down the book I've given to more people than any other, in part because it's so short they'll actually find the time to read it, bust mostly because it's the book that still speaks to me the loudest, no matter how many times I read it.

I use "speaks" figuratively, but in fact the story of Seedfolks is told in the first-person voices of 13 different characters, so the word seems like a fitting choice. AND it seems like a perfect segue to the other "nice people" thing that I was fortunate enough to be part of last weekend: the book launch party for Lemonade Mouth, the newest novel by local author Mark Peter Hughes.

Like Seedfolks, Lemonade Mouth is told from multiple first-person perspectives, in this case those of five high school musicians and misfits who join together to form a band and wind up learning about a lot more than just music. The book is fiendishly clever — funny in all the right places and ultimately a meaningful story that teens will no doubt take to heart. What better kick-off for the book could there have been, then, than Mark's book launch party featuring the performances of several high school music groups and the return of Mark's own band, Exhibit A. (The man doesn't just write. He rocks.)

Accompanied by wonderful bookseller Margaret Aldrich, I went to sell books at Mark's party last Saturday evening and to soak up the sounds that filled Natick's Broadway Dance Center. Throughout the evening I was struck by the fact that everyone in attendance seemed to be the Tom Taverna type — nice people who were more than happy to dig out their cars, dig out their neighbors, and show their support for a wonderful local talent and his younger protegees. It was a wonderful evening for all of us I think, to feel like we were part of a generous, caring community that loves books, loves music, and knows just what it means to be nice.

By now many of you may already have read, in PW or elsewhere, about the Boy Scout who was rescued yesterday in North Carolina, after having been missing for four days. Did you read, though, that his father thought it possible his survival might be due in part to his love of Hatchet by Gary Paulsen? And did you also read that the dog who rescued him was named Gandalf? AND that Gandalf is a Shiloh Shepherd? A bit of digging reveals that Shiloh Shepherds got their breed name from the kennel where they were originally bred and not from the book Shiloh by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor. But I still like the confluence of children's book names in this story.

If you are going to send your kids off on a camping trip I would also suggest arming them with a copy of Alabama Moon by Watt Key, which was undoubtedly one of the best, most kid-friendly books I read in 2006 and one of the best survival stories I've read in years. It's currently my long-running favorite book to handsell to kids (especially boys) between the ages of 9 and 13. Why? Because they all (even the most reluctant readers) come back RAVING it about it, and with good reason.

Here's the review I wrote of Alabama Moon when I first read it, almost a year ago:

There are some books that have all the right ingredients, all the right characters, and all the right outcomes: This is one of them. With the writing of his first novel Watt Key has softened the pluck and spirit of Huckleberry Finn, slipped them into the bones of a 21st century boy, and in so doing, arrived. Filled with spunk and fever and a wild, sweet goodness, Alabama Moon is a soul-satisfying, kid-centric story staged with pecan trees, pine logs, and a cast of characters you can't help but love. Will kids like it? Oh, good heavens, yes. Scout's honor. I predict that wilderness skills will soon be en vogue again and suggest that a special Moon badge be awarded to every kid who reads this book.

Yesterday was a snowy day here in Boston and, as on all snowy days, I found my mind repeating the short refrain that begins the picture book Snowsong Whistling by Karen E. Lotz, illustrated by Elisa Kleven. It goes like this:  "There's a crisp in the air/ From I-don't-know-where/But it might be/A snowsong whistling."

There are, of course, any number of books in rhyming verse that grace (and sometimes disgrace) the shelves of our bookstore in a given year, but for some reason the rhymes on this book's pages have never left me, though the book sadly has. My original copy was lost in a moving fiasco seven years ago that left me forever parted from the box of my then favorite picture books. 

I'm not the only one who loves this title. Just One More Book, a blog by two charming Canadians, has even recorded its own podcast, in which they banter about what makes it one of their favorites. But here's the bad news: like so many other gems, Snowsong Whistling is out of print. And I feel is owed some small fanfare.

Typically there is no official announcement made when a book goes out of print or goes "out of stock indefinitely." As a bookseller I typically learn this has happened when I repeatedly attempt to reorder a title and it repeatedly fails to reappear. I get no memo, no warning, no "thank you for supporting this book for as long as you have, but I'm afraid you can no longer sell it to your customers." The book slips silently from the shelves.

Wouldn't it be nice to see some formal sort of recognition go to books at the time of their passing? I personally would love it if someone in the world would create a repository for obituaries of out of print books, or "bibliobituaries," as I'm calling them. In order to make that happen, I'd suggest we start writing them.

I'll get the ball rolling here and then hope that some of you wittier folks will outdo me by writing better bibliobituaries for your own favorite out of print books. You can post them via the comments field, or if you'd prefer to be more anonymous, send them directly to me. Can't think of a book to write about? You might find inspiration at The BookFinder.com Report, where the folks from BookFinder.com post an annual list of the most sought-after out of print books in various categories.

Born in 1993 to Karen E. Lotz and Elisa Kleven, Snowsong Whistling, beloved picturebook, went out of print sometime in the past five years. The circumstances of her death are unknown. A joyful romp that celebrated the turning of the seasons, Snowsong was beloved for her clever rhymes, her vibrant collage illustrations, and her lively introductions to the best aspects of Fall and Winter. A founding member of Alison Morris's personal library and favorite of at least one Canadian family, she is survived by her author and her illustrator. Services will be held in Alison's living room whenever the flakes start falling.