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Her Sister, Holly Mcghee, Is An Agent, And She's My Agent In New York. She's Alison's Agent Too. Even Though Alison Lives Here In Minneapolis, I Met Alison Through Holly, When Holly Came To Minneapolis To Visit Alison.

-Kate DiCamillo

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Her Sister, Holly Mcghee,

Kate DiCamillo

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Her Sister, Holly Mcghee, Is An Agent, And She's My Agent In New York. She's Alison's Agent Too. Even Though Alison Lives Here In Minneapolis, I Met Alison Through Holly, When Holly Came To Minneapolis To Visit Alison.

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There's A Notion Of Art In This Country That You Have To Be Nutty Or Special Or "called" In Order To Be An Artist. I Believe The Questions Everyone Should Ask Themselves Are, "do You Want To Do It? Are You Willing To Do It Poorly? Are You Willing To Do The Work Of Doing It? Are You Willing To Persist When Everybody Tells You It's Silly?" If You're Willing To Do That, Then You Can Do It.

Wayne Wang, The Director Of Because Of Winn-dixie The Movie, Understood The Book And Transferred As Much Of The Feeling Of The Book Onto Film As Humanly Possible. I Think He Did A Fabulous Job. And Also I'm Thrilled Because The Movie Brings People To The Book - People That Wouldn't Know About The Book - And That's A Great Thing.

To Me The Book Is Like Having A Kid. I Have To Let It Go Out In The World, And Great Things Will Happen. Maybe They Won't, But It Has To Keep On Moving.

All Of God's Creatures Have Names, Every Last One Of Them. Of That I Am Sure: Of That I Have No Doubt At All.

They Were Always On The Move.but In Truth Said Bull We Are All Going Nowhere

Besides, Who Ever Asked You What You Wanted In This World, Girl? The Answer To That Question, Reader, As You Well Know, Was Absolutely No One.

The Origin Of Each Story Is Unique.

The Watsons Have Lost Sight Of The Fact That Mercy Watson Is A Pig, And They Love Her Truly, Madly, Deeply. They Live Next Door To Two Elderly Sisters, Eugenia Lincoln And Baby Lincoln. Eugenia Lincoln Is Horrified That A Pig Is Living In The House Next Door. Baby Lincoln Secretly Likes Mercy A Great Deal.

This Is A Wonderful Joke To Play Upon A Prisoner, To Promise Forgiveness.

Stories Are Light. Light Is Precious In A World So Dark. Begin At The Beginning. Tell Gregory A Story. Make Some Light.

Seasons Passed, Fall And Winter And Spring And Summer. Leaves Blew In Through The Open Door Of Lucius Clarke’s Shop, And Rain, And The Green Outrageous Hopeful Light Of Spring. People Came And Went, Grandmothers And Doll Collectors And Little Girls With Their Mothers. Edward Tulane Waited. The Seasons Turned Into Years. Edward Tulane Waited. He Repeated The Old Doll’s Words Over And Over Until They Wore A Smooth Groove Of Hope In His Brain: Someone Will Come; Someone Will Come For You.

It Is Our Duty And Our Joy To Communicate Our Hearts To Each Other. Words Assist Us In This Task.

If You Have No Intention Of Loving Or Being Loved, The Whole Journey Is Pointless.

Mr. And Mrs. Mr. And Mrs. Watson Love Mercy [watson]. Eugenia Hates Mercy. Baby Likes Mercy. Mercy Loves Toast. And The Plot, If You Want To Be So Generous As To Call It A Plot, Turns On Those Elements. Love Mercy. Eugenia Hates Mercy. Baby Likes Mercy. Mercy Loves Toast. And The Plot, If You Want To Be So Generous As To Call It A Plot, Turns On Those Elements.

One, We [with Alison Mcghee] Laugh A Lot - That Was Great. Two, I Enjoy Writing, But It's A Lonely Undertaking. To Have Someone In The Room With Me Is An Absolute Delight And Makes It Seem Less Impossible. It Became A Kind Of Comforting, Joyful Process.

I Don't Know What Alison [mcghee] Thinks, But I Very Strongly Doubt That We Will Ever See The Parents Of Bink Or Gollie. However, I Do Think It Would Be Fun To Make Tony Fucile Draw Portraits Of The Parental Units And Have Those Portraits Sitting On Bink's Mantel Or In Gollie's Kitchen. Glowering. A Little.

When We Read Together, We Connect. Together, We See The World. Together, We See One Another.

The Miraculous Journey Of Edward Tulane Began With A Friend Giving Me A Rabbit Doll - Forgive Me, Edward, For Using That Word; He Doesn't Like "doll" - For Christmas. I Said, "oh, He's Lovely, What's His Name?" And She Said, "edward." And A Few Days After I Received The Rabbit, Who Was Dressed Very Handsomely In Edwardian Kind Of Clothes, I Saw Him Stripped Of His Finery And Face Down On The Bottom Of The Ocean Floor. Why? I Don't Know. But That's Where His Story Began In My Head.

When I Get To A Point In My Book Writing When I Don't Know What I'm Going To Do Next, I'll Come Back Look At Underlined Passages And See If The Images I Wrote Still Have A Certain Amount Of Resonance For Me.

The Funny Thing Is, When I've Gone Through The Relentless Editing Process, My Editor And I Are Amazed The Mercy Watson Books Still Make Us Laugh. The Same Jokes That Made Us Laugh The First Time Around Still Make Us Laugh In The 16th Rendition.

Love, As We Have Already Discussed, Is A Powerful, Wonderful, Ridiculous Thing, Capable Of Moving Mountains. And Spools Of Thread.

May God Strike Me Down With A Hammer On The Head Before I Write A Book With A Teach-y Goal!

A Friend Of Mine Said Winn-dixie Is The Way That People Want The World To Be And Tiger Rising Is The Way That It Is.

It's A Weird Kind Of Disconnect That This Whole Story [he Miraculous Journey Of Edward Tulane] Grew Around A Real Doll Of Mine, And Here He Is, With His "edward" Expression On His Face. It's Kind Of Reality Bumping Into Fantasy.

We Forget That The Simple Gesture Of Putting A Book In Someone's Hands Can Change A Life. I Want To Remind You That It Can. I Want To Thank You Because It Did. - 2010 Indies Choice Award

Minnesota Has Been So Good To Me And So Pleased That I Love Minnesota.

As Far As Books Getting Turned Into Movies, I Fared Very, Very Well.

... Every Time You Look At The World And The People In It Closely, Lovingly, Imaginatively, It Changes You. The World, Under The Microscope Of Your Attention, Opens Up Like A Beautiful, Strange Flower And Gives Itself Back To You In Ways You Could Never Imagine.

I Think I'm Succinct To The Point Of Trying To Write The Two-word Novel. Editing My Work Almost Never Means Taking Anything Out But Rather Adding, Because I'm Always Stripping Down. I Tend To Under-write Rather Than Over-write.

How Will The World Change If We Do Not Question It?

I Have Done Quite A Few Signings At Bookstores, Libraries And Conferences. I Have Received Phone Calls And Letters From People Who Liked The Book.

Love Is Ridiculous. But Love Is Also Wonderful. And Powerful. And Despereaux's Love For The Princess Pea Would Prove, In Time, To Be All Of These Things: Powerful, Wonderful, And Ridiculous.

Men And Boys Always Want To Go Fight. They Are Always Looking For A Reason To Go To War. It Is The Saddest Thing. They Have This Abiding Notion That War Is Fun. And No History Lesson Will Convince Them Differently.

What's My Weirdest Adventure? Yikes, There've Been So Very Many. Perhaps The Pig+vegetable+taiwanese-army-guys Boat Ride To The Island Off The Coast Of Taiwan Qualifies As The Weirdest. Or At Least The Most Seasick.

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Magic Is Always Impossible.... It Begins With The Impossible And Ends With The Impossible And Is Impossible In Between. That Is Why It's Magic.

Never In His Life Had Edward Been Cradled Like A Baby. Abilene Had Not Done It. Nor Had Nellie. And Most Certainly, Bull Had Not. It Was A Singular Sensation To Be Held So Gently And Yet So Fiercely, To Be Stared Down At With So Much Love. Edward Felt The Whole Of His China Body Flood With Warmth. (page 128)

It Seems To Be That Way With Most Things. No One To Do The Really Disagreeable Jobs Except Oneself.

Life Is Hard. Life Is Beautiful. Life Is Difficult. Life Is Wonderful.

The Closest I Can Get To Describing What Happens Is That Voices Come To Me. I Feel Like I'm Accessing Something That Is Deeper And Richer Than Me.

Everything When I Was A Kid Was Illustrated.

Reading A Story Should Be A Fabulous, Wonderful Thing. The Most Important Thing That Parents Can Do For Kids Is To Read With Them And To Let Their Kids See Them Reading Books For Their Own Pleasure.

Life Was So Short; So Many Beautiful Things Slipped Away.

Beautiful Things

And Hope Is Like Love...a Ridiculous, Wonderful, Powerful Thing.

So, Yes, At Least From My End. You Could Say There's A Lot Of Alison [mcghee] In Gollie Too.

As A Kid Books Changed How I Looked At The World And Helped Me Understand Things. Books Still Deepen Me And Open My Heart.

I Was Visiting My Mother In Florida When The September 11, 2001 Attacks Happened. I Was Working On The Tale Of Despereaux At That Point. I Had Already Gone Into Writing It With A Great Deal Of Trepidation And Fear, And Then This God-awful Thing Happens And It Was Really Hard To Even Get Back Home To Minneapolis.

She Was Working To Remind Herself Of Who She Was. She Was Working To Remember That Somewhere In Another Place Entirely She Was Known And Loved.

It Is Always Just Telling A Story, Regardless Of The Age Of The Reader. Except, If I'm Writing Something For Kids, I Know There Has To Be Hope. I Don't Necessarily Feel That Responsibility For Adults, But I Emphatically Feel It For Children. That's The Only Difference. There's No Syntax Difference. There's No Semantics Difference. There's No Thematic Difference.

I Always Write With Music. It Takes Me A While To Figure Out The Right Piece Of Music For What I'm Working On. Once I Figure It Out, That's The Only Thing I'll Play.

We Appreciate The Complicated And Wonderful Gifts You Give Us In Each Other. And We Appreciate The Task You Put Down Before Us, Of Loving Each Other The Best We Can, Even As You Love Us.

We [me And Alison Mcghee] Probably Wouldn't Have Said That When We Were Writing The Stories, But It Is So Apparent To Me In The Finished Product. For Me, Looking At Bink, It's Like Looking At Myself On The Page In A Way That I've Never Experienced With Any Other Book That I've Written.

It Distresses Me That Parents Insist That Their Children Read Or Make Them Read. I Think The Best Way For Children To Treasure Reading Is For Them To See The Adults In Their Lives Reading For Their Own Pleasure.

Nobody Ever Learns Anything.

I Would Hesitate To Say The Characters [ In Bink & Gollie] Are Too Related To Either To Us [me And Alison Mcghee], But They Certainly Draw On Our Physical Traits And Personality Traits And Then Exaggerate Them To The Nth Degree.

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Delicate Things

Anybody Who Puts A Book Into Someone Else's Hands Inspires Me - Teachers, Librarians, Booksellers, Parents.

I Have Been Loved Said Edward To The Stars

Forgiveness, Reader, Is, I Think, Something Very Much Like Hope And Love - A Powerful, Wonderful Thing. And A Ridiculous Thing, Too.

Her Sister, Holly Mcghee, Is An Agent, And She's My Agent In New York. She's Alison's Agent Too. Even Though Alison Lives Here In Minneapolis, I Met Alison Through Holly, When Holly Came To Minneapolis To Visit Alison.

No Matter How Hard You Try To Be Present At Home, You're Always Doing The Things That You Have To Do.

I've Never Worked With A Co-author Before [alison Mcghee]. Writing For Me Is A Pretty Scary Thing, So It Was A Huge Comfort To Have Someone In The Room Working With Me. It Became Less Like Work And More Like Play.

The Tiger Rising Is, Again, About A Motherless Child. His Name Is Rob Horton. He Is Dealing With The Death Of His Mother, When He And His Father Move To A New Town. And Two Things Happen The Same Day That Rob Gets Sent Home. One Is He Meets A Girl Named Sistine Bailey, Who Is What My Mother Would Call "a Piece Of Work," And He Finds A Real Tiger In A Cage In The Woods Behind The Motel Where He Lives With His Dad. And That's The Story: What Happens With The Sistine Tiger, The Real Tiger And Rob's Grief.

I Think For Everybody Reading Can Be A Solace, Illumination, Education.

In A Dark Time, Doors Will Sometimes Magically Open And Let Us Step Inside To The Warmth And Light Of A Community.

Mercy Watson Is Obsessed With Toast. What Was Blocking Me Was The Challenge Of Trying To Understand What She Loves, What Motivates Her. That Was The Missing Piece. Toast Became The Physical Symbol Of Mercy's Hopefully Endearing Greed And Obsession. Without That Element In Place, It Didn't Make Sense.

That You Can Go Anywhere In America And Get A Book From A Library Is Just The Most Amazing Thing In The World. It's Not A Duty; It's A Privilege And It's A Joy. That Joy Is Doubled And Tripled And Quadrupled If You Read With Other People.

I Am Single And Childless, But I Have Lots Of Friends And I Am An Aunt To Three Lovely Children.

Reader, You Must Know That An Interesting Fate (sometimes Involving Rats, Sometimes Not) Awaits Almost Everyone, Mouse Or Man, Who Does Not Conform.

I'm In Trouble If They Can't, Because Everyone's Taller Than Me, And If That's True, That Means I Can't Have Any Friends! Alison [mcghee] And I Look Very Much Like, I Was Going To Say Bink And Gollie, But I Meant Mutt And Jeff. We Look Ridiculous When We Walk Down The Street Together, Because She's So Tall And I'm So Short. But Yes, Tall People And Short People Can, And Should Be, Friends. I, Personally, Like Being Short. I Think It Makes Things Easier.

I Thought I Was Going Nowhere. Now I Can See There Was A Pattern.

The Only Control You Have Over A Movie Is Whether Or Not You Decide To Sell The Rights.

If There Is Anything That I Think I Might Use Later, I Underline It.

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I Didn't Start Working On Children's Books Until I Got A Job At A Book Warehouse On The Children's Floor. When I Started Reading Some Of The Books, I Was So Impressed.

During The Night, While Bull And Lucy Slept, Edward, With Ever-open Eyes, Stared Up At The Constellations. He Said Their Names, And Then He Said The Names Of The People Who Loved Him. He Started With Abilene, And Then Went On To Nellie And Lawrence And From There To Bull And Lucy, And Then He Ended Again With Abilene: Abilene, Nellie, Lawrence, Bull, Lucy, Abilene. See? Edward Told Pellegrina. I Am Not Like The Princess. I Know About Love.

Go Home And Read To Your Adult. We Forget How Much We Love To Be Read To.

Mercy Watson Is A Pig. She Lives With Mr. And Mrs. Watson, Who Are Not Pigs. I Had That Basic Premise, But I Couldn't Make It Work. I Would Come Back To It, Try It, See That I Was Failing, And Put It Aside.

Despereaux Marveled At His Own Bravery. He Admired His Own Defiance. And Then, Reader, He Fainted.

When I Was A Kid I Loved To Read, But I Didn't Write And I Didn't Create Imaginary Worlds. So, If One Student Walks Away Thinking, "she's Obviously Just An Ordinary Person, Yet She Gets To Make Her Living Doing What She Wants To Do. Maybe That Applies To Me, Too," Then I Feel Like My Time Has Been Well Spent.

There Is A Lot Of Love In Him, A Lot Of Love In His Heart...and He Is Up There With No One And Nothing To Love. It Is A Bad Thing To Have Love And No Where To Put It.

The Story Is Not A Pretty One. There Is Violence In It. And Cruelty. But Stories That Are Not Pretty Have A Certain Value, Too, I Suppose. Everything, As You Well Know (having Lived In This World Long Enough To Have Figured Out A Thing Or Two For Yourself), Cannont Always Be Sweetness And Light.

Every Morning For, I Don't Know How Long, I Came Over To Alison's [mcghee] House And We Sat In Her Office And Wrote The Stories "out Loud" Together. We Yelled At Each Other And Made Each Other Laugh. It Was A Lot Of Fun.

I Have Been Loved, Edward Told The Stars. So? Said The Stars. What Difference Does That Make When You Are All Alone Now?

If I Am Just Home And Writing, I Become Very Strange.

At Least Lester Had The Decency To Weep At His Act Of Perfidy. Reader, Do You Know What 'perfidy' Means? I Have A Feeling You Do, Based On The Scene That Unfolded Here. But You Should Look Up The Word In Your Dictionary, Just To Be Sure.

There," She Said. She Rocked Him Back And Forth. "there, You Foolish, Beautiful Boy Who Wants To Change The World. There, There. And Who Could Keep From Loving You? Who Could Keep From Loving A Boy So Brave And True?

It's A Book [bink & Gollie] About Shortness And Tallness, So I Think It's Appropriate To Discuss The Virtues Of Shortness.

You Can Always Trust A Dog That Likes Peanut Butter.

While We Were Working, We Were Writing About A Tall Girl And A Short Girl, Which We Thought Was Funny, Because Alison's [mcghee] Tall And I'm Short.

On The Return Flight From My Mother In Florida , I Sat Next To A Businessman Who Asked Me What I Did For A Living. I Said, "i Write," And It Seemed Totally Ridiculous In The Face Of What Had Just Happened. I Mean, I Couldn't Think Of Anything More Pointless Than Telling Stories. He Asked, "what Do You Write?" I Said, "i Write Children Books."

There's A Buddhist Precept That The Only Thing You Deserve Is The Chance To Do The Work, And I've Been Given The Chance To Do The Work.

Miracles And Magic Pervade The Things That I've Written, But Yet There Are No Miracles And There Is No Magic.

There Ain't No Point In Making Soup Unless Others Eat It. Soup Needs Another Mouth To Taste It, Another Heart To Be Warmed By It.

I Hate To Cook And Love To Eat.

Alison [mcghee] And I Have Known Each Other Since The Summer Of 2001. One Evening We Were Sitting Around Talking About How We Wished We Had A Good Story To Work On. Alison Said: Why Don't We Work On A Story Together? I Said: A Story About What? And Alison Said: A Story About A Short Girl And A Tall Girl.

In Luggage Claim At The Minneapolis Airport, The Guy Came Up To Me And Said, "maybe You're Wrong, Maybe Stories Do Matter." I Wrote That On A Scrap Of Paper And Put It Above My Desk. That Was The Thing That Pushed Me Through To The End Of Telling Despereaux, That Comment, "maybe They Do...maybe Stories Matter."

I Have Learned How To Love. And It's A Terrible Thing. I'm Broken. My Heart Is Broken. Help Me.

You Can't Always Judge People By The Things They Done. You Got To Judge Them By What They Are Doing Now.

You Don't Realize What You're Going To Get, And You Can't Prepare Yourself For It.

Going Out And Not Only Meeting The Kids, But Meeting The Teachers And The Librarians And Seeing The World, Fills Me Up.

I'm Continually Astonished With Myself How Different People Bring Out Things In Me That I Never Knew I Had Inside Me. Each New Friendship Can Make You A New Person, Because It Opens Up New Doors Inside Of You.

I Have Not Googled Myself. I Have Not Looked At Myself On Amazon. It Could Drive You Wild.

Fairy Tales Dont Tell You That Dragons Are Real, But That They Can Be Defeated!

Longing Is Not Always A Reciprocal Thing.

Nothing New Ever Happens In The Books. It's The Same Old Theme.

Perhaps," Said The Man, "you Would Like To Be Lost With Us. I Have Found It Much More Agreeable To Be Lost In The Company Of Others.

But, Reader, There Is No Comfort In The Word "farewell," Even If You Say It In French. "farewell" Is A Word That,in Any Language, Is Full Of Sorrow. It Is A Word That Promises Absolutely Nothing.

I Think Of Myself As An Enormously Lucky Person.

I Never Want To Be A Role Model.

I Read My Books Out Loud To Myself Because Of The Demands Of The Story And Demands Of Language.

I'm Grateful For Every Teacher Or Librarian Who Reads A Book And Says, "this Is Exactly The Book That So-and-so Needs To Read; I'll Get It In His Hands." I'm Amazed At The Network Of Adults Who Make Sure That Kids Get Books.

I Was A Kid Who Lived To Read. It Was The Primary Pleasure Of My Existence. It's Still One Of The Primary Pleasures Of My Existence. It's Where I Draw My Sustenance.

As Elmore Leonard Says, I Write To Find Out What Happens.

I Love Adventurous Travel. I Also Love Pancakes, And Making Pancakes For Other People. You Would Definitely Find Me In The Airy Treetop As Opposed To Below Ground.

Once Upon A Time," He Said Out Loud To The Darkness. He Said These Words Because They Were The Best, The Most Powerful Words That He Knew And Just The Saying Of Them Comforted Him.

Once Upon A Time

It Is Important That You Say What You Mean To Say. Time Is Too Short. You Must Speak The Words That Matter.

A Typical Day For Me Is I Get Up At 6:00, The Coffeemaker Goes On Automatically And The Computer Gets Turned On. I Pour A Cup Of Coffee, Listen To Garrison Keillor's The Writer's Almanac, And Then I Write.

I Love Words; I Love The Way They Sound. Once I've Worked On Everything Else, The Last Drafts Of My Books Come Down To How They Sound.

Mercy Watson Is Pure Fun For Me As A Writer, Because I Think Of Her As Kind Of Sorbet - A Palate Cleanser - Between Larger Works. It's Always A Relief To Come Back To Her.

He Was Weeping. Although 'weeping' Really Is To Small A Word For The Activity The Kind Had Undertaken. Tears Were Cascading From His Eyes. A Small Puddle Had Formed At His Feet. I Am Not Exaggerating. The King, It Seemed, Was Intent On Crying Himself A River.

I Always Go To The Agriculture Building, Where They Make Apple Cider Popsicles For A Dollar.

I Don't Think About Being A Celebrity.

It Is A Bad Thing To Have Love And Nowhere To Put It.

This Is The Danger Of Loving: No Matter How Powerful You Are, No Matter How Many Kingdoms You Rule, You Cannot Stop Those You Love From Dying.

[a Businessmen In Plane After 911] Asked Me, "what Are You Working On Now?" And I Said I Was Writing A Story About A Mouse Who Tries To Save A Princess. I Was Mortified. Here The World Is Falling Down Around Us, And I'm Trying To Tell The Story About A Mouse Who Saves A Princess. I Said "it Doesn't Matter At All Now."

If The World Held Magic Powerful Enough To Make The Elephant Appear, Then There Must Exist, Too, Magic In Equal Measure, Magic Powerful Enough To Undo What Had Been Done.

There Ain't No Way You Can Hold Onto Something That Wants To Go, You Understand? You Can Only Love What You Got While You Got It.

So Many Miracles Have Not Yet Happened.

I Think, Oh My God, Kids Are Reading, And They Care About A Book Enough To Come Over And Talk To Me About A Book That They Care About. If I Think About It As Being A Celebrity, It Would Freak Me Out. But I Just Think, Lucky Me, That I Get To Be A Part Of This Whole Thing.

Stories Are Light. Light Is Precious In A World So Dark.

At The Thought Of Being Eaten By Rats, Despereaux Forgot About Being Brave. He Forgot About Not Being A Disappointment. He Felt Himself Heading Into Another Faint. But His Mother, Who Had An Excellent Sense Of Dramatic Timing, Beat Him To It; She Executed A Beautiful, Flawless Swoon, Landing Right At Despereaux's Feet.

I Was Born In Philadelphia And Currently Live In Minneapolis. I Write For Both Children And Adults.

I Loved School; I Loved The Rules, And I Liked There Being Right Answers, Wrong Answers, And Being Able To Give The Right Answer All The Time. And That Goes Against Who Many Would Predict Is Going To Go Out And Break Rules And Tell Stories For A Living.

I Didn't Know At The Time I Was Writing Because Of Winn-dixie Where The Story Came From, But In Retrospect I Can See That It Was A Response To A Terribly Harsh Winter Here In Minnesota.

So Here I Am, Sending A Two-ounce Mouse Down Into A Dungeon With A Sewing Needle To Save A Human Princess, And I Don't Know How In The World He's Going To Do It. I Have No Idea. That Was The First Time It Occurred To Me That Writing The Story Was Roughly Equivalent To Despereaux's Descent Into The Dungeon. I Was Tremendously Aware Of That As I Was Writing. I Thought, "i Have To Be Brave Or Else I'm Not Going To Be Able To Tell It." But It's The Only Way That I Can Write. If I Know What's Going To Happen, I'm Not Interested In Telling The Story.

Everything I Write Comes From My Childhood In One Way Or Another. I Am Forever Drawing On The Sense Of Mystery And Wonder And Possibility That Pervaded That Time Of My Life.

There Ain't A Body, Be It Mouse Or Man, That Ain't Made Better By A Little Soup.

I Think We Sent Tony Fucile Pictures Of Ourselves, Photos From Like When We Were Seven Years Old. That's What He Worked From. He Captured Exactly What We Looked Like. I'd Love To Do Another One With Alison, Not Just For The Joy Of Writing, But Also For The Joy Of Watching Tony Bring It To Life With His Illustrations. I'm Hoping At Bea, Or Ala, I'll Get To Meet Tony And Shake His Hand And Thank Him.

There Are So Many Difficult Things And Stories Can Make Them Palatable. That's The Way I Have Always Felt.

I Will Be Brave, Thought Despereaux. I Will Try To Be Brave Like A Knight In Shining Armour. I Will Be Brave For The Princess Pea.

But Let's Not Speak Of What Might Have Been. Let Us Speak Instead Of What Is. You Are Whole.

In The Beginning Of The Book, The Miraculous Journey Of Edward Tulane, Edward Is More Enamored Of Himself Than He Is Of Anybody Else. He's A Very Fine Rabbit; He's Been Constructed Incredibly Well, And He Has A Wardrobe Of Amazing Clothing. He's Arrogant, And He Doesn't Care Whether Abilene Loves Him Or Not. As The Journey Progresses, As He Gets Passed From Hand To Hand, He Learns What It Means To Love. He Gets More And More Bedraggled, And His Clothing Is Lost; Yet He Becomes Finer In Soul And Heart Than He Was At The Beginning Of The Journey.

Love Is In All Of The Books, And That's The Connective Tissue Between Them. There's A Lot Of Hope In Me; I Can Feel It. These Stories Are Balls Of Light For Me.

I Journal For About Half An Hour, And By The Time That's Done, The Business Day On The East Coast Has Begun. The Phone Starts To Ring, And The Rest Of The Day Is Spent Dealing With The Business Of Writing. My Workday Is Done At About 3:00.

In My Stories For Children, I Sometimes Show A Hard, Harsh, Dangerous World. I'm Going To Show You The Way It Is, But I'm Going To Also Tell You That There's Every Reason To Hope.

Dangerous World

My Father Leaving The Family Shaped Who I Was And How I Looked At The World. By The Same Token, My Father Telling Me Fairy Tales That He Had Made Up Shaped Me Profoundly, Too.

Say It, Reader. Say The Word 'quest' Out Loud. It Is An Extraordinary Word, Isn't It? So Small And Yet So Full Of Wonder, So Full Of Hope.

There Can Be A Lot Of Longevity In The Repetition Of Things Being Told Again And Again In A Variety Of Ways.

Pea Was Aware Suddenly Of How Fragile Her Heart Was, How Much Darkness Was Inside It, Fighting, Always, With The Light. She Did Not Like The Rat. She Would Neverlike The Rat, But She Knew What She Must Do To Save Her Own Heart.

No One Cared What She Wanted. No One Had Ever Cared. And Perhaps, Worst Of All, No One Ever Would Care.

The World Is Dark, And Light Is Precious. Come Closer, Dear Reader. You Must Trust Me. I Am Telling You A Story.

There Is Nothing Sweeter In This Sad World Than The Sound Of Someone You Love Calling Your Name.

I've Been Recognized In Airports Lots Of Places, But Mostly Getting Recognized Is At Home.

We Were 15 Minutes Into It And Nothing Was Happening; I Thought, Well, That's Not Going To Work. Then All Of A Sudden Everything Clicked. I Don't Know How Long It Took Us, But I Would Just Show Up At Alison's [mcghee] Office. She Would Type And We'd Just Kick It Back And Forth. Writing Is So Scary For Me, Such A Lonely Endeavor, And It Became A Wonderful Thing To Show Up And Have Somebody Else Go Through It With Me. It Was Actually A Wonderful Experience.

Understand, I Had Absolutely No Interest In Writing; I Wanted To Be A Writer.

It Is Truly Excellent To Have Someone Believe In You And Your Ability To Write. But I Think It Is Just As Helpful To Have People Who Don't Believe In You, People Who Mock You, People Who Doubt You, People Who Enrage You. Fortunately, There Is Never A Shortage Of This Type Of Person In The World ... Write For Yourself. Write For The Story. And Write, Also, For All Of The People Who Doubt You. Write For All Those People Who Are Not Brave Enough To Do This Grand And Wondrous Thing Themselves. Let Them Motivate You.

Most Of My Books Begin With An Image Or A Voice - One Small Thing - And I Don't Know What It Is Going To Become.

When I Journal, I Write About Images That I've Seen That I Think Might Make Good Stories. I Write About Things That I Hear That I Think I Can Turn Into A Story. I Write About The Story That I'm Working On And Where I Think It Might Go.

My Goal Is Two Pages A Day, Five Days A Week. I Never Want To Write, But I'm Always Glad That I Have Done It. After I Write, I Go To Work At The Bookstore.

I Am Busier Now Than I Ever Imagined I Would Be, But I Feel Blessed In That I Have Found What I Am Supposed To Be Doing With My Life. It's Wonderful To Tell Stories And Have People Listen To Them.

I Want To Remind People Of The Great And Profound Joy That Can Be Found In Stories, And That Stories Can Connect Us To Each Other, And That Reading Together Changes Everybody Involved.

Every Well-written Book Is A Light For Me. When You Write, You Use Other Writers And Their Books As Guides In The Wilderness.

The Tale Of Despereaux Came At The Request Of Luke, My Friend's Then-eight-year-old Son, Who Asked, "write For Me The Story Of An Unlikely Hero With Exceptionally Large Ears."

I Remember Wanting To Write A Book With Someone, The Someone Being Kate [dicamillo], And We Decided To Write About Two Friends. We Had No Idea How To Begin This Project - Neither Of Us Had Ever Collaborated With Another Writer - And I'm Pretty Sure That We Began By Giving Our Two Friends A Sock, Just To See What They'd Do With It. And It Went From There.

Do You Think Everybody Misses Somebody? Like I Miss My Mama?” “mmmm-hmmm,” Said Gloria. She Closed Her Eyes. “i Believe, Sometimes, That The Whole World Has An Aching Heart.

I Am Just Always, Always Paying Attention - Waiting For The Words, Or Image, Or Name That Will Be The Beginning Of A Story.

I Actually Do Like Traveling.

Take This Squirrel, For Instance. Ulysses. Do I Believe He Can Type Poetry? Sure, I Do Believe It. There Is Much More Beauty In The World If I Believe Such A Thing Is Possible.

The Image I Had Was Very Clear, And So In That Way The Miraculous Journey Of Edward Tulane Began Like Other Books.

Open Your Heart. Someone Will Come. Someone Will Come For You. But First You Must Open Your Heart. (old Doll)

I Think Of Mercy Watson Like A Superball; There's A Bouncy Kind Of Optimism To Her Stories. She Allows Me To Play, And She Makes Me Laugh. Hopefully Readers Feel The Same Way.

We All Live In Fear Of Getting Blocked No Matter What Kind Of Art We're Trying To Do. It Happens All The Time, But I Prefer To Think Of It As A Bad Day.

And So He Was Reading The Story As If It Were A Spell And The Words Of It, Spoken Aloud, Could Make Magic Happen.

The Draft That Finally Goes To My Editor Doesn't Get Into Her Hands Until I Have Read It Out Loud Innumerable Times - Sometimes Into A Tape Recorder - To Make Sure That It Sounds Right.

Once There Was A Princess Who Was Very Beautiful. She Shone Bright As The Stars On A Moonless Night. But What Difference Did It Make That She Was Beautiful? None. No Difference." Why Did It Make No Difference?" Asked Abilene. Because," Said Pellegrina, "she Was A Princess Who Loved No One And Cared Nothing For Love, Even Though There Were Many Who Loved Her.

It's Hard Not To Immediately Fall In Love Witha Dog Who Has A Good Sense Of Humor.

Falling In Love

The Way We Started Was, Alison [mcghee] Said, 'tall Girl, Short Girl.' We Had No Plans Beyond That.

We Must Ask Ourselves These Questions As Often As We Dare. How Will The World Change If We Do Not Question It?

The Tale Of Despereaux Is The Story Of An Unlikely Hero, A Mouse, Who Falls In Love With A Princess And Then Must Save Her. It's A Triumph Of The Human Spirit, Via A Mouse.

Falling In Love

In The Tale Of Despereaux, There Is A Lot Of Darkness, A Lot Of Despair. There's Also A Lot Of Light, Redemption, Hope. There's Forgiveness, There's Friendship, There's Love. But The World In All Of Its Potential Craziness Is Also There.

Did You Think That Rats Do Not Have Hearts? Wrong. All Living Things Have A Heart. And The Heart Of Any Living Thing Can Be Broken.

My Favorite Food Is Deep-fried Ravioli. I Always Get That Every Year.

What I Hope Is That The Book [bink & Gollie] Delights Children. What I Hope Is That They Laugh And Laugh And Laugh, Just As We Did When We Wrote Them.

I'm Predisposed To Think That As A People, We're Hardwired To Understand Things Through The Telling Of Stories. I Think That As Human Beings It's Part Of Who We Are.

I Didn't Know Anything About Writing A Screenplay, But Somehow I Ended Up Rewriting A Screenplay.

The Sound Of The King's Music Made Despereaux's Soul Grow Large And Light Inside Of Him.

Look At Me, He Said To Her. His Arms And Legs Jerked. Look At Me. You Got Your Wish. I Have Learned How To Love. And It’s A Terrible Thing. I’m Broken. My Heart Is Broken. Help Me. The Old Woman Turned And Hobbled Away. Come Back, Thought Edward. Fix Me

I Need To Write, And I Can't Write When I'm On The Road.

I Grew Up In Florida, And I Wanted To Go Home And I Couldn't. I Didn't Have The Money. The Book [the Tiger Rising] Was A Way To Go Home.

Love!' Said The Princess. She Stamped Her Foot. 'why Must Everyone Always Speak Of Love?

There's Nothing More Fabulous Than An Adult Saying To You, "i Think That You Might Like This One [book]." So I'm Grateful Every Time That Happens. It's An Amazing Thing That People Care That Passionately.

This Is The Great Thing About Writing For Kids. Adults Might Not Do Anything If They Recognized Me. But If They Do See Me, And They're With A Kid, They'll Tell The Kid Who I Am. They Think They Should Give That To The Kid. So Generally That Sends The Kid Over.

The Themes In My Books, Like In Life, Are About Grace And Redemption And You Never Know When They're Going To Show Up And What Form They're Going To Be In. Stories Emerge From Keeping Your Heart Open To The People That Cross In Front Of You Or The Dogs Or The Mice, And Their Ability To Open You Up And Enrich Your Life.

I Believe, Sometimes, That The Whole World Has An Aching Heart.

Each New Friendship Can Make You A New Person, Because It Opens Up New Doors Inside Of You.

I Like To Think Of Myself As A Storyteller.

I Read Whatever The Publisher Sends Me.

When I Do It [writing] By Myself, There's A Lot More Terror And Uncertainty.

Things Are Not At All What They Seem To Be: Oh No, Not At All.

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Robert Rauschenberg

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