Category: SCBWI


Give a reader an Odd-Fish, and he’ll dither for a day (or longer…)

Filed under: I write, Meeting Authors, SCBWI by margocole — 16 Comments
March 3, 2010

I hesitate to call this a review – it’s not often one can befriend an author while reading his book. Or collab with him on a book giveaway. (A girl can dream?!)
Read on for giveaway details…

James Kennedy’s The Order of Odd-Fish was introduced to me by the dude himself, at an author panel organized by SCBWI-Illinois. Amidst sage advice on how to promote a book, Kennedy retold a doozy I’d have taken for the “don’t do this” pile – a doozy involving “whimsically insulting” Neil Gaiman AND a theatrical attempt to de-Newbery him.

Yes.
So, I’ll admit, one of my first thoughts was, “Is this a book for me?” In the end, I figured if Odd-Fish was half as entertaining as the guy himself during an author panel, I’d be in good hands.

Lucky for me, the Odd-Fish paperback came out soon after I’d taken a five-chapter bite. For the release party at 57th Street Books, Kennedy answered questions and gave a few outrageous performance-readings. With a story this Python-esque and darkly visual, the action seemed to come at me – so the cadence of his voice offered the perfect pace to read by.

There were times I couldn’t keep up with that pace, like whenever my pesky left brain seemed to reject the idea of the Order of Odd-Fish: these knights who dither as an occupation, creating an Appendix of dubious facts, rumors, and myths. But at other times, my micro-managing self receded into the background – as any party-pooper should – and I had an absolute blast.

The book opens like an overture: action from all angles. Jo Larouche, the main character, kept my attention until the pace found its footing. From there, the romp was on. For one thing, who can resist a villain who reads back issues of Sassy magazine? (No one, that’s who.) On page 275, I laughed out loud at a 112-word sentence that recalls Douglas Adams’s charming absurdity. And in the opening scenes of the book, as Jo enjoys the fake sarcophagus her Aunt Lily gave her for Christmas, Kennedy’s description reads:

“The inside of the mummy’s coffin, lined with black velvet cushions, was surprisingly comfortable. Lying in it, she felt pleasantly dead.”

If that isn’t an argument for adverbs, I don’t know what is. It certainly made me smile.
(Bottom line: You gotta see what this guy is up to. You can also check out his interview with Rick Kogan on WGN radio!)

On the big news front, Kennedy has received an overwhelming amount of fan art for The Order of Odd-Fish – and on Saturday, April 17th at 7pm, he’s partnering with Collaboraction for a showing in their gallery at 437 N Wolcott. Come for the rooms decorated as scenes from Odd-Fish, and stay for the costumed battle-dance party – the Carnaval Dome of Doom.

How would you like to win an autographed Odd-Fish paperback AND Kennedy’s soundtrack mix CD?
Just answer me this…

Among the Odd-Fish, a “society of ditherers,” each knight takes up their own pointless research. Sir Festus, for instance, studies absurd musical instruments like the “urk-ack” – a live animal whose innards have forty-one sweet spots with which one can play a beautiful tune. So: Tell me about an absurd Odd-Fishian musical instrument of your own invention. How would it work? What would it sound like?

Submit your answer as a comment by Sunday, March 21 at 11:59pm CST!
(Please note: Tweeting/blogging about the contest adds karma appeasing Odd-Fish’s 144,444 gods!)
James Kennedy himself will determine the winningest, most absurd instrument! The lucky winner will get an autographed copy of The Order of Odd-Fish in paperback (complete with sweet cover art by Paul Hornschemeier) and a BONUS PRIZE: Kennedy’s own special Odd-Fish mix of tunes.
Add your entry today!

UPDATE: This contest has ended, and the results are right here!

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In Stead’s Head

Filed under: I write, Meeting Authors, SCBWI by margocole — 5 Comments
February 7, 2010

Friday evening is still with me.

That’s when I attended a discussion at 57th Street Books, organized by the Hyde Park network of SCBWI. (It’s an acronym you’ll see here often, and it translates to the Society of Children’s Writers and Illustrators.)

The event featured Rebecca Stead, author of When You Reach Me, and her editor Wendy Lamb (of Wendy Lamb Books, an imprint of Random House). I was nervous. Why was I nervous? I’d read the book, so I was ready for any potential pop-quizzes. Maybe it was the John Newbery Medal that the book just won. It could just be that the book was amazing, and to be in the room was to feel like a “smart 10-year-old” again. (Stead and Lamb joked that this particular “demographic” was the ultimate test of WYRM‘s internal logic. Lamb added that she still doesn’t “get” it!)

The discussion was varied and entertaining in itself. Preteens and adults alike raised their hands, and Ms. Stead answered every question with the same openness and honesty as the one before. This is what’s still with me: Her willingness to let us into her head, to walk around for a little while. She signed the children’s copies of the book first, taking time with each young fan to answer questions and just talk. In my copy, she signed a “note” to my son Archer, because I can’t wait until the book “reaches” him. We also talked very briefly about the business. I shared what little experience I’ve had (which has been interesting), and I completely felt like she understood. She said “Well then, keep going!” and her written note in my new copy of First Light says the same.

There are little quips about being human in When You Reach Me that I never expected to find reflected in a page of print. And in real life, she’s just like that. She admitted, “I never liked book groups,” explaining that the experience of a book is so personal and the emotions were too big to talk about. As she explained this feeling she’d had as a kid, I went right back to my childhood and felt it, too.

A writer has to be brave enough to write honestly, even if it means saying something new. It can be scary to be original. Maybe the nerves mean we’re doing something right.

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