Happy birthday to David B Coe! He’s taking today off to celebrate his 29th birthday (no, really, he’s 29! Would I lie to you? 😉 ) And he gets cake, which makes any day a party!
I work in a middle school library. Middle schoolers are fascinating beasts – not children, not adults, they flail about in a loose-limbed fashion, trying to figure out what the next step will be. Tears and fights are instantaneously begun, and end just as quickly. Most of them love to read, but many of them pretend they’re much too grown-up for that, and come in here to check out books with the secretive nature of a spy in a dime novel. They’ll toss the chosen book toward me and immediately turn away, so that anyone who happens to glance inside the library will think they’re only standing around near the desk.
And they say the craziest things. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to chew the inside of my lip to keep from laughing. My favorite happened a couple of weeks ago. In anticipation of Mad Kestrel‘s release, I’d printed some paper bookmarks with my book cover and synopsis. Students were oohing and ahing over them. One boy read the bookmark carefully, and the following conversation ensued:
Him: You wrote this book?
Me: Yes, I did.
Him: Have you read it yet?
For a second, I didn’t know how to respond. Of course, I’d read it, silly boy. Hadn’t I? I read it while I was writing it, and I read it again during both big rewrites. I read it while it was printing for the twentieth time. But now I think I want to read it again. Because now it’s a book. Maybe it sounds different now that all the pages are bound and there’s a cover around it. I’ll read it and see if what I tried to do succeeded.
Out of the mouths of babes…