A Word from the Author or Illustrator

Author Q&A: Jeanne DuPrau, author of Project F

Jeanne DuPrau Q&A

Project F

Project F By Jeanne DuPrau

From the bestselling author of The City of Ember comes a post-apocalyptic story set hundreds of years in the future, where life is simple and modern conveniences are a thing of the past until a boy enchanted by technology is forced to choose between doing the right thing for his community and pursuing his dreams of adventure.

WELCOME TO THE FUTURE.

There are no cars, planes, television, or smart phones. Climate change wreaked havoc on Earth hundreds of years ago, and now people live a simpler life. 

Then thirteen-year-old Keith uncovers a secret. It’s a mysterious mission known only as Project F. It’s advanced, it’s scientific, and it’s going to change the world. It’s exactly the kind of adventure Keith has always longed to be a part of.

And what is adventure without a little danger, right? But how much danger is Keith willing to risk? For himself? For his family? For his community? For the entire world…?

Jeanne DuPrau's The City of Ember was an instant hit when it arrived on bookshelves. It has become a modern classic beloved by readers selling hundreds of thousands of copies a year! In her latest novel, she explores timely questions about the Earth and our use of its resources. A bold novel, Project F asks how much you are willing to risk to save the future.

Jeanne DuPrau

Jeanne DuPrau

"What could be more interesting than thinking of mysterious happenings, finding the answers to intriguing questions, and making up new worlds?"--Jeanne DuPrau

Jeanne DuPrau has been a teacher, an editor, and a technical writer. The People of Sparks is her second novel and the sequel to the highly acclaimed The City of Ember. Ms. DuPrau lives in Menlo Park, California, where she keeps a big garden and a small dog.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“When did you decide to be a writer?” people often ask me. Well, it was like this:

At about age 6, I wrote my first book, or at least the first book of mine that survives to the present day. It’s called “Frosty the Snowman.” It’s five pages long, illustrated with red and green crayon, and bound with loops of yarn.

My next extant work dates, I think, from the seventh grade. It’s a collection of stories handwritten on lined newsprint. One is about a merry-go-round that mysteriously flies off into the air. Another is about a girl who mysteriously disappears while ice skating. A third is about a seashell that mysteriously opens a door to an underwater world. It’s not hard to deduce that mysterious happenings were what I loved best at the time–a wardrobe door leading to Narnia, a rabbit hole leading to Wonderland, a nanny who flew away when the wind changed.

A year or two later, I started reading Dickens. I loved the world of Dickens’s novels, full of colorful characters and wildly complicated plots. I decided to write Dickensian stories myself. To prepare for this, I put together notebooks with headings on each page for character names, settings, plot ideas, and beginning sentences. I wrote pages and pages of great names (Ophelia Gordonswaithe, Hester Hollyhock), lists of settings (an insane asylum, a deserted railway station), and beginning sentences (“A sharp laugh broke the heavy silence”). I didn’t actually write very many stories, though. I think I wrote three or four, but only one of them went all the way to the end. The rest petered out after a couple of pages–or a couple of paragraphs.

But I kept at it. All through school, I wrote and wrote. Some of this writing my teachers assigned–book reports, college essays, my senior thesis. Some I assigned myself–stories, poems, journals, letters. After I graduated from college (an English major, of course), I did several different kinds of work, but they all involved writing and reading in one way or another. I taught high school English (and started a creative writing club for my students). I worked as an editor in educational publishing companies (and wrote stories for reading textbooks). I worked for a computer company (and wrote about how to use computers).

At the same time, after work, on weekends, whenever I could fit it in, I was doing my own writing. I wrote about people I knew, experiences I’d had, books I’d read, ideas that had occurred to me. I started sending these pieces of writing out into the world, and quite often they were published. I wrote a book, and then another book. The more I wrote, the more things I thought of to write about.

So the answer to the question, “When did you decide to be a writer?” is: Never. I never decided anything–I just wrote and kept on writing, because writing was what I liked to do. What could be more interesting than thinking of mysterious happenings, finding the answers to intriguing questions, and making up new worlds? Writers have a great job. I’m glad to be one.

Carl Hiaasen Q&A

Wrecker

Wrecker By Carl Hiaasen

Wrecker needs to deal with smugglers, grave robbers, and pooping iguanas—just as soon as he finishes Zoom school. Another wild adventure in Carl Hiaasen's Florida, now in paperback!

Valdez Jones VIII calls himself Wrecker because his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather salvaged shipwrecks for a living. 

So is it destiny, irony, or just bad luck when Wrecker comes across a speedboat that has run hard aground on a sand flat? The men in the boat don't want Wrecker to call for help—in fact, they'll pay him to forget he ever saw them. 

Wrecker would be happy to forget, but he keeps seeing these men all over Key West—at the marina, in the cemetery, even right outside his own door. And now they want more than his silence—they want a lookout.

He'll have to dive deep into their shady dealings to figure out a way to escape this tangled net. . . .

Carl Hiaasen

Carl Hiaasen

CARL HIAASEN was born and raised in Florida. He is the author of fourteen previous novels, including the bestsellers Squeeze MeRazor GirlBad MonkeyStar IslandNature GirlSkinny DipSick Puppy, and Lucky You, and six bestselling children’s books, HootFlushScatChompSkink, and Squirm. His most recent work of nonfiction is Assume the Worst.

carlhiaasen.com

CARL HIAASEN is available for select readings and lectures. To inquire about a possible appearance, please contact Penguin Random House Speakers Bureau at speakers@penguinrandomhouse.com or visit prhspeakers.com.

Uncovering Universal Truths in a Mystery Novel

by Maria José Fitzgerald, author of Turtles of the Midnight Moon

Mysteries have always captivated young readers through their suspenseful scenes, puzzles, red herrings, and whodunnits. The mystery genre in children’s literature transports young minds to realms of adventure and discovery. From Harriet the Spy and Nancy Drew to more recent novels like Greenglass House and Hoot, mysteries keep kids engaged and turning the pages, yearning to discover the truth. As young readers reach the end of the book, they might wonder: Were my suspicions correct? What clues did I miss along the way? What information led me astray?  If they’re like me, they might even start the book over and try to find the hints they missed.

But beyond the thrill of cracking a puzzling case, mysteries also offer authors the ability to weave profound universal truths into their narratives. As readers dig for evidence, they may also find that they are simultaneously digging within themselves, asking questions unrelated to the novel’s “main” mystery. Because the truth is, what matters even more than the puzzle, are the connections readers make with the characters in these stories and the sometimes-difficult truths they discover about being human.

In my debut middle-grade eco-mystery, Turtles of the Midnight Moon, I strived to craft a classic whodunnit that also delved into truths about friendship, compassion, conservation, forgiveness, identity, and even the importance of art. While young readers immerse themselves in the beaches of Honduras, trying to figure out who the egg-poaching villain(s) might be, it is my hope that they also connect to the protagonists’ struggles, hopes, and the questions they are grappling with:

  • What does it mean to be a real friend?
  • How do I show compassion towards the natural environment and its creatures?
  • Why is forgiving so hard? Why is it important?
  • What does it mean to be of mixed race or culture? What is identity anyway?

While fiction might not always answer these questions directly, stories—including suspenseful mysteries—can guide readers to come up with their own answers. Stories shine a light on the complicated truths about being human and the struggles we all share. They help readers navigate this complicated world. Even high-paced, action-packed mysteries can open doors for readers to foster new relationships with not only others but also with themselves and our planet.

Readers will find their own hidden truths within stories, perhaps even some that the author may not have consciously thought of. Here are four that I kept in mind as I created the characters, world, and plot for Turtles of the Midnight Moon.

Truth 1: Compassion is the heart of connection:

Compassion is like the bright moon in the darkness, lighting our way and illuminating the beauty around us. Compassion, the capacity to understand and share the feelings of others, lies at the core of human connections (and our connection to the natural world).  It is also at the heart of any compelling children’s novel. E.B. White did this masterfully in one of my favorite books of all time, Charlotte’s Web. In Turtles of the Midnight Moon, Barana shows great compassion for the sea turtles that nest on her beach. She has a special connection to one turtle in particular, Luna, with whom she shares a mysterious scar. Through Barana’s example, Abby also develops compassion for these creatures. As both girls work together to unravel the mystery, they must also learn to empathize with those who have wronged them and, eventually, find compassion for them.

Readers might uncover the universal truth that when there is compassion, friendships can truly bloom. When there is compassion, our natural world can thrive. And when there is compassion, communities can grow stronger. Is it always easy to be compassionate? No, but if we are able to channel it within us, the results might be magical!

Truth 2: Forgiveness is the door to healing:

Forgiveness is the path to healing and the only way forward, even when an act seems unforgivable. In Turtles of the Midnight Moon, forgiveness emerges as another powerful force and essential virtue in human relationships. As Barana and Abby contend with suspects and clues, they also face conflict with each other. The girls learn that if they are to ever find the answers they are seeking, they must learn to forgive each other and move forward. Abby’s father also contends with forgiveness. In his case, he must forgive himself for years spent neglecting his past, his pain, and his relationship with his father. We also witness forgiveness at the community level. When Barana and Abby finally solve the sea turtle poaching mystery, they and the entire village of Pataya face the difficulty of finding forgiveness in their hearts for the poacher(s). How do you forgive someone you know is inherently good but has done something “bad?”  Barana and Abby encounter individuals who have made mistakes, acted out of fear, or succumbed to their flaws but have also done much good in the past. By forgiving these characters, Barana and Abby bring closure to the mystery, showing young readers that there is great power in forgiveness. Letting go of resentment and embracing second chances can seem impossible, but young readers might consider that–perhaps– it is worth trying.

Truth 3: Identity is who we are in our own eyes:

Today more than ever, kids are exposed to the whole world in the palm of their hands. While this blog post is not about social media and its effects on young readers, we can probably all agree that we live in a time when stories and their messages might be more important than ever. While our technology has evolved and changed the very fabric of our society, young readers’ questions around identity haven’t. Who am I? Who do I want to be? How do people see me? These questions have been around for a long time. As a GenXer, I recall quite vividly how between the ages of about ten and twenty-something, I was constantly seeking to define who I was. In some ways, I still am. Perhaps we all are.

There is a line in one of the poems in Turtles of the Midnight Moon that reads: The answers are within. I love this verse because it speaks to the core of identity: it is within us, and it can only be defined by us. The opening poem in Turtles begins with this stanza:

I am from the ocean, vast and cold.

From the heart of the Atlantic.

Swimming miles away from home,

Until I return again.

Home can have many meanings. It is a place, or many places, and it is also something many of us carry with us, especially if we have moved or immigrated from our place of birth.

Abby longs to visit her father’s homeland. The urge to know where he, and therefore where she, comes from, motivates her to insist on joining him to Honduras. It is through this journey that Abby is able to begin to look inward. By traveling far from her home in New Jersey, she begins to strengthen her sense of identity and belonging.

Truth #4: Friendship is not easy, but when it is real, it can transcend anything.

I am in my mid-forties, and friendship is still somewhat of a mystery to me! In Turtles, Abby’s best friend has moved far away. Abby is having a difficult time navigating middle school, feeling alone and unseen, and she isn’t sure she’ll ever make another friend. Hiding behind her camera, Abby counts down the days for summer to begin. By the end of the novel, she has learned that she is still capable of not only creating, cultivating, and thriving in new friendships, but that it is sometimes okay to let go of past ones. While Barana and Abby don’t exactly get along at first, as they get to know each other and work together, they realize that their relationship is special. They see each other for who they are, and they support each other’s interests. The two totems the girls find are a sort of metaphor for their friendship. Sometimes the totems are warm, sometimes they shine bright, and other times, they fade and become cool. Like these carved talismans, friendship shifts over time too, but even old friendships remain with us, like a tiny turtle charm that we can carry inside our pockets wherever we go.

What are some universal truths you have uncovered while reading children’s mysteries? I’d love to connect and hear from you! You can find me at www.mariajosefitzgerald.com or @mariajosewrites on Instagram and @MariaJoseFitzg2 on Twitter

 

 

Turtles of the Midnight Moon

An eco-mystery with an unforgettable friendship story!

Twelve-year-old Barana lives in a coastal village in Honduras, where she spends every spare minute visiting the sea turtles that nest on the beach.

Abby feels adrift in sixth grade, trying to figure out who she is and where she belongs after her best friend moves away from New Jersey.

When Abby’s papi plans a work trip to Honduras, she is finally given the opportunity to see his homeland—with Barana as her tour guide. But Barana has other plans: someone has been poaching turtle eggs, and she’s determined to catch them! Before long, Abby and Barana are consumed by the mystery, chasing down suspects, gathering clues, and staking out the beach in the dead of night. Will they find a way to stop the poachers before it’s too late?

A heart-pounding mystery with a hint of magic, María José Fitzgerald’s debut novel explores the power of friendship, community, and compassion to unite all living creatures.

Harlem at Four

New from a New York Times bestselling author and a critically acclaimed illustrator!

Painting on an easel.
Harlem at Four

A Stunning and Powerful Picture Book Told In Two Parts

Meet Harlem: the girl and the neighborhood. Part one follows the adventures of a little girl named Harlem and her single father as they go on a museum “playdate” with painters Romare Bearden and Jean-Michel Basquiat, listen to John Coltrane records, and conduct science experiments in their apartment (“The volcano erupts /Red lava on Valentine’s Day!”).

Part two takes us back to the fourth year of the twentieth century in Harlem’s neighborhood. Here, we are introduced to Philip A. Payton Jr., aka Papa Payton, whose Afro-American Realty Company gave birth to the Black housing explosion, helping to start America’s Great Black Migration. Because of Papa Peyton, Black families—like Harlem and her father a century later—could move to Harlem and thrive and flourish.

This is a unique, absolutely gorgeous picture book by New York Times bestselling author Michael Datcher and illustrated by Frank Morris, the Coretta Scott King Award-winning artist weaves together the lives of a modern Black family and a historically Black neighborhood in New York City.

Q&A with Paul O. Zelinsky, illustrator of Cinderella and a Mouse Called Fred

Cinderella and a Mouse Called Fred

A new fairy-tale retelling from award-winning creators Deborah Hopkinson and Paul O. Zelinsky!

Experience a new, uproarious rendition of the classic fairy tale of Cinderella – narrated by the mouse who will ultimately become her coach horse. This version boasts a powerful message of female empowerment and inclusivity, with striking illustrations by Caldecott Medalist Paul O. Zelinsky and written by award-winning author Deborah Hopkinson. The book also delves into the origins of fairy tale pumpkins and how they came to be named as such.

A Q&A with illustrator Paul O. Zelinsky

What message do you hope readers take away from CINDERELLA AND A MOUSE CALLED FRED?

PAUL: I’m happy for young readers not to take any message from this book. What I hope for is any strong connection, of the reader’s own making. Books for children will always be used to teach, but I want them also to do what literature does: engage a human being on as many levels as possible. And the younger the child, the more idiosyncratic and personal the connections that they forge. Cinderella and a Mouse Called Fred has plenty of content you can think about and discuss, but it’s also just funny, and that’s a worthy end in itself.

You have both written and/or illustrated many books for young readers; what draws you to writing/illustrating for children?

PAUL: I wonder why anybody would want to do anything with their life other than make books for children! What else could you make that would be valued more by so many people (and people who are so adorable)? And even if I never had the privilege of meeting young readers in school visits or library programs and seeing their enthusiasm, it would be enough to remember first-hand the feelings that a great children’s book can engender; there’s nothing else like them. And those feelings, those relationships with favorite books, can continue for life.

The Cinderella story has been retold many times; what drew you to the story, and inspired your fresh take on it?

PAUL: I have made my own versions of some classic fairy tales, so I think I know the territory. But of course, my take this time was based on Deborah’s story.  I was also influenced by talking with our editor Anne Schwartz about the manuscript— how it plays with girly and non-girly expectations, and how I could do something similar with the pictures.

Do you have a favorite illustration in the book? Which is it and why?

PAUL: I have to say in all modesty that quite a few of the spreads in the book amuse me, and I don’t have a single favorite.

One picture that I like is of Fred morphing from a mouse into a howling horse. A lot of people will probably assume that I copied Fred’s face from Picasso’s famous painting “Guernica,” with its very similar horses shrieking amid the mayhem of the Spanish Civil War. “Guernica” used to be on exhibit in New York’s Museum of Modern Art, where I saw it many times. I can’t deny the connection with Fred, but it was completely unconscious. I finished my drawing, looked at it, and said “Oh no, I just drew Picasso’s shrieking horse!” Since that moment I have avoided looking at Guernica to see how far the resemblance goes.

When I look at my blasé, bossy, middle-aged Fairy Godmother in this story I have a suspicion that she, too, might be some character I knew in childhood and am unwittingly just redrawing.

Deborah Hopkinson

Deborah Hopkinson

Deborah Hopkinson is the author of many highly acclaimed picture books, including A Letter to My Teacher, which received two starred reviews, and the modern classic Sweet Clara and the Freedom Quilt, which the New York Times called “inspiring.” Her other books include Sky Boys: How They Built the Empire State Building, a Boston Globe-Horn Book Honor Book, and Abe Lincoln Crosses a Creek: A Tall, Thin Tale, an ALA-ALSC Notable Children’s Book. She lives in Oregon with her family.

Paul O. Zelinsky

Paul O. Zelinsky

Paul O. Zelinsky was born in Evanston, Illinois. He attended Yale University, where he took a course with Maurice Sendak, which later inspired him to pursue a career in children's books. He went on to receive a graduate degree in painting from Tyler School of Art, in Philadelphia and Rome. His first book was published in 1978. Among many other awards and prizes, he received the 1998 Caldecott Medal for his illustrated retelling of Rapunzel, as well as Caldecott Honors for three of his books: Hansel and Gretel (1985), Rumpelstiltskin (1987), and Swamp Angel (1995). Paul Zelinsky lives in New York with his wife, Deborah.

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