This can be a tough time of year to be an author or illustrator. When all those “Best of the Year” book lists come out from publications like Publishers Weekly and Kirkus, it can feel like getting picked last for the kickball team all over again.But my wise writer friend Erin Dionne reminded a fellow author on social media today that there are other lists – quieter ones – that matter, too. Every kid who is a reader has one – and your book just might be number one.
It’s true. And it reminded me that this might be a good time to bring back a poem I wrote a couple of years ago.What Happened to Your Book Today
by Kate Messner (Copyright 2011) Somewhere, a child laughed on that page where you made a joke. Somewhere, she wiped away a tear, Just when you thought she might. Somewhere, your book was passed from one hand to another in a hallway busy with clanging lockers, with whispered words, “You have got to read this.” And a scribbled note: O.M.G. SO good. Give it back when ur done. It’s looking a little more love-worn lately, rougher around the edges than it did on release day. There are dog eared pages and Gatorade stains. Someone smeared maple syrup on the cover because she read all through breakfast. Pages 125 and 126 are stuck fast with peanut butter Because Chapter 10 was even more delicious than lunch. Somewhere, tiny hands held up your book And a little voice begged, “Again!” Somewhere, the answer came, A grown-up sigh…and a smile… And the fourteenth read-aloud of the morning. That same book. Again. Your book. Somewhere, a kid who has never read a whole book on his own (Really. Not even one.) picked up yours and turned a page. And then another. And then one more. And it was pretty cool, turns out. He brought it back – huge smile on his face – (and I mean huge) And asked for another one. And he read that, too. Somewhere, a teenager who thought she was alone Opened your pages and discovered she’s not. And somewhere, somebody who thought about giving up will keep on trying,
keep on hoping.Because of that book you wrote. Somewhere tonight – listen closely and you’ll hear– A child will turn the last page of that book, That book you wrote, and sigh. Can you hear it? It’s the sound of a story being held close Right before a young voice says, “It feels like this was written just for me.” And it was. Note from Kate: If you love this poem & want to share it on your own blog, website, or Facebook wall, please do not copy and paste the text. Instead, please include a short quote or just the title and then share the rest of the poem by providing a link to my original post here – that way, you can share with your own readers and honor the copyright, too. Here’s the URL:
Many thanks for practicing good digital citizenship!