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Now He Saw Another Elephant Emerge From The Place Where It Had Stood Hidden In The Trees. Very Slowly It Walked To The Mutilated Body And Looked Down. With Its Sinuous Trunk It Struck The Huge Corpse; Then It Reached Up, Broke Some Leafy Branches With A Snap, And Draped Them Over The Mass Of Torn Thick Flesh. Finally It Tilted Its Massive Head, Raised Its Trunk, And Roared Into The Empty Landscape.

-Lois Lowry

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Now He Saw Another

Lois Lowry

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Now He Saw Another Elephant Emerge From The Place Where It Had Stood Hidden In The Trees. Very Slowly It Walked To The Mutilated Body And Looked Down. With Its Sinuous Trunk It Struck The Huge Corpse; Then It Reached Up, Broke Some Leafy Branches With A Snap, And Draped Them Over The Mass Of Torn Thick Flesh. Finally It Tilted Its Massive Head, Raised Its Trunk, And Roared Into The Empty Landscape.

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I Don't For One Second Think About The Possibility Of Censorship When I Am Writing A New Book. I Know I Am A Person Who Cares About Kids And Who Cares About Truth And I Am Guided By My Own Instincts, And Trust Them.

There Will Always Be A Place For Bunnies To Talk In Rhyme, But That's Not What I Do.

It's The Choosing That's Important, Isn't It?

- My Instructors In Science And Technology Have Taught Us About How The Brain Works. It's Full Of Electrical Impulses. It's Like A Computer. If You Stimulate One Part Of The Brain With An Electrode, It... - They Know Nothing.

Always In The Dream, It Seemed As If There Were A Destination: A Something--he Could Not Grasp What-that Lay Beyond The Place Where The Thickness Of Snow Brought The Sled To A Stop. He Was Left, Upon Awakening, With The Feeling That He Wanted, Even Somehow Needed, To Reach The Something That Waited In The Distance. The Feeling That It Was Good. That It Was Welcoming. That It Was Significant. But He Did Not Know How To Get There.

It's Just That... Without The Memories It's All Meaningless.

Time Goes On, And Your Life Is Still There, And You Have To Live It. After A While You Remember The Good Things More Often Than The Bad. Then, Gradually, The Empty Silent Parts Of You Fill Up With Sounds Of Talking And Laughter Again, And The Jagged Edges Of Sadness Are Softened By Memories.

I See All Of Them. All The Colors.

People Do Things That Turn Out Badly, Often For The Most Benevolent Of Reasons.

I Don't Know What You Mean When You Say 'the Whole World' Or 'generations Before Him.'i Thought There Was Only Us. I Thought There Was Only Now.

The Life Where Nothing Was Ever Unexpected. Or Inconvenient. Or Unusual. The Life Without Colour, Pain Or Past.

He Hunched His Shoulders And Tried To Make Himself Smaller In The Seat. He Wanted To Disappear, To Fade Away, Not To Exist.

Things Seem More When You’re Little. They Seem Bigger, And Distances Seem Farther.

Reading Is The Most Important Way To Prepare For Life.

Teasing's Part Of The Fun That Comes Before Kissing

It Be Better, I Think, To Climb Out In Search Of Something, Instead Of Hating, What You're Leaving.

I Would Say That Most Of My Books Are Contemporary Realistic Fiction... A Couple, Maybe Three, Fall Into The 'historic Fiction' Category. Science Fiction Is Not A Favorite Genre Of Mine, Though I Have Greatly Enjoyed Some Of The Work Of Ursula Leguin. I Haven't Read Much Science Fiction So I Don't Know Other Sci-fi Authors.

And They Are Beginning To Realize That The World They Live In Is A Place Where The Right Thing Is Often Hard, Sometimes Dangerous, And Frequently Unpopular.

He Was Free To Enjoy The Breathless Glee That Overwhelmed Him: The Speed, The Clear Cold Air, The Total Silence, The Feeling Of Balance And Excitement And Peace.

"i Liked The Feeling Of Love," [jonas] Confessed. He Glanced Nervously At The Speaker On The Wall, Reassuring Himself That No One Was Listening. "i Wish We Still Had That," He Whispered. "of Course," He Added Quickly, "i Do Understand That It Wouldn't Work Very Well. And That It's Much Better To Be Organized The Way We Are Now. I Can See That It Was A Dangerous Way To Live." [...] "still," He Said Slowly, Almost To Himself, "i Did Like The Light They Made. And The Warmth."

I Was A Sidelines Child: Never Class President, Never Team Captain, Never The One With The Most Valentines In My Box.

For The First Time, He Heard Something That He Knew To Be Music. He Heard People Singing. Behind Him, Across Vast Distances Of Space And Time, From The Place He Had Left, He Thought He Heard Music Too. But Perhaps, It Was Only An Echo.

The Writer After All Is Only Half The Book, The Other Half Is The Reader.

I Don't Know What She Is Now. A Stranger, Mostly. It's As If She Has Become A Part Of A Different World, One That Doesn't Include Me Anymore.

Take Pride In Your Pain; You Are Stronger Than Those Who Have None

They Were Satisfied With Their Lives Which Had None Of The Vibrance His Own Was Taking On. And He Was Angry At Himself, That He Could Not Change That For Them.

I Have Learned Over The Course Of My Many Years That It Is A Bad Idea, Usually, To Investigate Piteous Weeping But Always A Fine Thing To Look Into A Giggle.

You Will Be Faced, Now, With Pain Of A Magnitude That None Of Us Here Can Comprehend Because It Is Beyond Our Experience. The Receiver Himself Was Not Able To Describe It, Only To Remind Us That You Would Be Faced With It, That You Would Need Immense Courage.

If Everyting's The Same, Then There Aren't Any Choices! I Want To Wake Up In The Morning And Decide Things!" (jonas) "it's The Choosing That's Imortant, Isn't It?" The Giver Asked Him.

Sometimes I Wish They'd Ask For My Wisdom More Often - There Are So Many Things I Could Tell Them; Things I Wish They Would Change. But They Don't Want Change. Life Here Is So Orderly, So Predictable - So Painless. It's What They've Chosen.

Because Of Fear, They Made Shelter And Found Food And Grew Things. For The Same Reason, Weapons Were Stored, Waiting.

I Write Books Because I Have Always Been Fascinated By Stories And Language, And Because I Love Thinking About What Makes People Tick. Writing A Story... 'the Giver' Or Any Other... Is Simply An Exploration Of The Nature Of Behavior: Why People Do What They Do, How It Affects Others, How We Change And Grow, And What Decisions We Make Along The Way.

Then I Went Home To Continue My Life, Which Had Changed A Little, As Lives Do Every Day, Inching By Microspecks Forward Toward Whatever Surprises Are Coming Next.

The Mind Can’t Explain It, And You Can’t Make It Go Away. It’s Called Love.

And It Was Lonely, To Yearn, All Alone.

-a Whole World Can Lie Before Someone, If Love Is There When One Wakes.

Inspirational Love

Gathering Blue' Was A Separate Book. I Wanted To Explore What A Society Might Become After A Catastrophic World Event. Only At The End Did I Realize I Could Make It Connect To 'the Giver.

Think Only On The Climb. Think On What You Control

I Think Of Every Book As A Single Entity, And Some Have Later Gone On To Become A Series, Often At The Request Of Readers.

People In The Know Say The Giver Was The First Young Adult Dystopian Novel.

Our People Made That Choice, The Choice To Go To Sameness. Before My Time, Before The Previous Time, Back And Back And Back. We Relinquished Color When We Relinquished Sunshine And Did Away With Difference. We Gained Control Of Many Things. But We Had To Let Go Of Others.

Writing Is Self Employment, So You Can Make Your Own Schedule.

You Will Fail. Then They Will Kill You." - Vandara To Kira, Following Kira's Trial.

The Worst Part Of Holding The Memories Is Not The Pain. It's The Loneliness Of It. Memories Need To Be Shared.

Early On I Came To Realize Something, And It Came From The Mail I Received From Kids. That Is, Kids At That Pivotal Age, 12, 13 Or 14, They're Still Deeply Affected By What They Read, Some Are Changed By What They Read, Books Can Change The Way They Feel About The World In General. I Don't Think That's True Of Adults As Much.

That's Why They Call You Seer. You See More Than Most.

The Fact That I Lost My Son Permeates My Being.

I Left Home At The Correct Time But When I Was Riding Along Near The Hatchery, The Crew Was Separating Some Salmon, I Guess I Just Got Distraught, Watching Them.

Genius Disregards The Boundaries Of Propriety. Genius Is Permitted To Shout If Shouting Is Productive.

I've Always Been Interested In Medicine And Was Pleased When My Brother Became A Doctor. But After Thinking Seriously About That Field, I Realized That What Intrigued Me Was Not The Science, Not The Chemistry Or Biology Of Medicine, But The Narrative - The Story Of Each Patient, Each Illness.

We Gained Control Of Many Things. But We Had To Let Go Of Others.

Keep A Green Tree In Your Heart And Perhaps The Singing Bird Will Come.

When I Create Characters, I Create A World To Inhabit And They Begin To Feel Very Real For Me. I Don't Belong In A Psych Ward, I Don't Think, But They Become Very Real, Like My Own Family, And Then I Have To Say Goodbye, Close The Door, And Work On Other Things.

But There's A Whole World Waiting, Still, And There Are Good Things In It.

If You Were To Be Lost In The River, Jonas, Your Memories Would Not Be Lost With You. Memories Are Forever.

You Eat Canned Tuna Fish And You Absorb Protein. Then, If You're Lucky, Someone Give You Dover Sole And You Experience Nourishment. It's The Same With Books.

As A Shy, Introverted, Scholarly Child (long Ago) I Don't Know What I Would Have Done Without Libraries! My Family Moved Often. I Was Always The New Kid In Town. The Library Always Offered Me My First And Most Important Friendship: The Place Where I Felt Right At Home. I Still Feel That Way Today, About Libraries.

Now He Saw Another Elephant Emerge From The Place Where It Had Stood Hidden In The Trees. Very Slowly It Walked To The Mutilated Body And Looked Down. With Its Sinuous Trunk It Struck The Huge Corpse; Then It Reached Up, Broke Some Leafy Branches With A Snap, And Draped Them Over The Mass Of Torn Thick Flesh. Finally It Tilted Its Massive Head, Raised Its Trunk, And Roared Into The Empty Landscape.

So Many Of My Books, I Don't Want To Say They Have Messages, But They Have Important Things To Say.

And Here In This Room, I Re-experience The Memories Again And Again It Is How Wisdom Comes And How We Shape Our Future.

...now He Saw The Familiar Wide River Beside The Path Differently. He Saw All Of The Light And Color And History It Contained And Carried In Its Slow - Moving Water; And He Knew That There Was An Elsewhere From Which It Came, And An Elsewhere To Which It Was Going

I Feel Sorry For Anyone Who Is In A Place Where He Feels Strange And Stupid.

Today Is Declared An Unscheduled Holiday.

There Is Something About That Moment, When Literature Becomes Accessible, And A Door Of The World Opens.

Evil Can Do Anything, For A Price.

I'm Not Terribly Conversant With Children's Literature In General. I Tend To Read Books For Adults, Being An Adult.

I Believe Without A Single Shadow Of A Doubt That It Is Necessary For Young People To Learn To Make Choices. Learning To Make Right Choices Is The Only Way They Will Survive In An Increasingly Frightening World.

Gabe?" The Newchild Stirred Slightly In His Sleep. Jonas Looked Over At Him. "there Could Be Love", Jonas Whispered.

I Make Up The Characters In My Books, But Of Course My Consciousness Is Filled With Every Child I've Ever Known, Including My Two Grandchildren, My Own Kids (i Had Four) And Especially Myself As A Child, Because That Person Still Lives Inside Me, Too.

It Is So Good To Have Friends Who Understand How There Is A Time For Crying And A Time For Laughing, And That Sometimes The Two Are Very Close Together.

I Knew That There Had Been Times In The Past-terrible Times-when People Had Destroyed Others In Haste,in Fear, And Had Brought About Their Own Destruction

When I Wrote 'the Giver,' It Contained No So-called 'bad Words.' It Was Set, After All, In A Mythical, Futuristic, And Utopian Society. Not Only Was There No Poverty, Divorce, Racism, Sexism, Pollution, Or Violence In The World Of 'the Giver'; There Was Also Careful Attention Paid To Language: To Its Fluency, Precision, And Power.

What's Important Is The Preparation For Adult Life, And The Training You'll Receive In Your Assignment.

The Community Of The Giver Had Achieved At Such Great Price. A Community Without Danger Or Pain. But Also, A Community Without Music, Color Or Art. And Books.

You Remember That I Told You It Was Safer Not To Know. But,' He Went On, As His Hands Moved Wuth Their Sure And Practiced Motion, 'i Will Tell You Just A Little, Because You Were So Very Brave.' Brave?' Annemarie Asked, Surprised. 'no, I Wasn't. I Was Very Frightened.' You Risked Your Life.' But I Didn't Even Think About That! I Was Only Thinking Of-' He Interrupted Her,smiling. 'that's All That Brave Means-not Thinking About The Dangers. Just Thinking About What You Must Do. Of Course You Were Frightened. I Was Too, Today. But You Kept Your Mind On What You Had To Do. So Did I.

Ellen Had Said That Her Mother Was Afraid Of The Ocean, That It Was Too Cold And Too Big. The Sky Was, Too, Thought Annemarie. The Whole World Was: Too Cold, Too Big. And Too Cruel.

Once She Read A Book But Found It Distasteful Because It Contained Adjectives.

Mama Was Crying, And The Rain Made It Seem As If The Whole World Was Crying.

He Wept Because He Was Afraid Now That He Could Not Save Gabriel. He No Longer Cared About Himself

The Man That I Named The Giver Passed Along To The Boy Knowledge, History, Memories, Color, Pain, Laughter, Love, And Truth. Every Time You Place A Book In The Hands Of A Child, You Do The Same Thing. It Is Very Risky. But Each Time A Child Opens A Book, He Pushes Open The Gate That Separates Him From Elsewhere. It Gives Him Choices. It Gives Him Freedom. Those Are Magnificent, Wonderfully Unsafe Things. [from Her Newberry Award Acceptance Speech]

I Don't Set Out To Transmit A Message. I Don't Write With A Political Point Of View. There Are No Religious Overtones. Looking Back At My Books, I Can Say, 'oh, Yes, It Is There.' But It's Not In My Mind When I Write.

For A Contributing Citizen To Be Released From The Community Was A Final Decision, A Terrible Punishment, An Overwhelming Statement Of Failure.

It's A Funny Thing About Names, How They Become A Part Of Someone.

Kids Deserve The Right To Think That They Can Change The World.

Making Lists Of Reasons Was Sometimes A Good Way To Figure Things Out.

Fear Dims When You Learn Things.

Every 'no' Means You Are That Much Closer To A 'yes.

The Whole World Had Changed. Only The Fairy Tales Remained The Same. "and They Lived Happily Ever After.

Submitting To Censorship Is To Enter The Seductive World Of 'the Giver': The World Where There Are No Bad Words And No Bad Deeds. But It Is Also The World Where Choice Has Been Taken Away And Reality Distorted. And That Is The Most Dangerous World Of All.

Dangerous World

I Often Compare Myself As A Kid To My Own Grandchildren, Who Are Around 11 And 14 Now. That's The Age Kids Usually Read My Book. And I Remember Myself, We'd Gone Through A World War. My Father Was An Army Officer So I Was Aware Of What Was Going On. But I Wasn't Bombarded With Images Of Catastrophe Like Many Kids Are Today.

We Live In Times That Are In Many Ways Ambiguous. Maybe That's Why Kids Want Precision In What They Read - They Don't Like That Moral Ambiguity.

It Is Much Easier To Be Brave If You Do Not Know Everything.

I Think When You've Had Success, Publishers And Reviewers And Readers Are Willing To Let You Try Something New If You've Already Proven Yourself. They're Excited About What You're Doing, You Have People Interested In It, And Actually Waiting For It. It's Empowering.

So Actually, There Could Be Parents-of-the-parents-of-the-parents-of-the Parents?

I Don't Read Young Adult Or Children's Books, Now That My Grandchildren Are Beyond The Age Of My Reading To Them. I Read Reviews, And So I'm Aware Of What's Out There. But I Tend Not To Read The Books.

He Wept, And It Felt As If The Tears Were Cleansing Him, As If His Body Needed To Empty Itself.

I Have Been Fortunate. I Have Done So Many Things And Enjoyed So Many Things And Had Such A Great Life, Not To Imply That It Is Ending, But That There Aren't Many Things That I Feel I Have Left Undone.

Writing Is Hard Work, And Fun, And Requires You To Keep Your Backside In A Chair When You Would Sometimes Like To Put It Elsewhere. So The Only Wisdom Is The Advice To Keep At It, I Guess.

It Is Very Risky. But Each Time A Child Opens A Book, He Pushes Open The Gate That Separates Him From Elsewhere.

It's Hard To Give Up The Being Together With Someone.

She Was The Only Doctor's Wife In Branford, Maine, Who Hung Her Wash On An Outdoor Clothesline Instead Of Putting It Through A Dryer, Because She Liked To Look Out The Window And See The Clothes Blowing In The Wind. She Had Been Especially Delighted, One Day, When One Sleeve Of The Top Of Her Husband's Pajamas, Prodded By The Stiff Breeze Off The Bay, Reached Over And Grabbed Her Nightgown Around The Waist.

It Was Almost December, And Jonas Was Beginning To Be Frightened.

There Was Just A Moment When Things Weren't Quite The Same, Weren't Quite As They Had Always Been Through The Long Friendship

Long Friendship

His Mind Reeled. Now, Empowered To Ask Questions Of Utmost Rudeness-and Promised Answers-he Could, Conceivably (though It Was Almost Unimaginable), Ask Someone, Some Adult, His Father Perhaps: "do You Lie?" But He Would Have No Way Of Knowing If The Answer He Received Was True.

Even Trained For Years As They All Had Been In Precision Of Language, What Words Could You Use Which Would Give Another The Experience Of Sunshine?

I Think I've Written 40 Books, And None Of Them Have Been Heavy On Action. I'm An Introspective Person.

There's Much More. There's All That Goes Beyond – All ... That Is Elsewhere – And All That Goes Back, And Back, And Back. I Received All Of Those, When I Was Selected. And Here In This Room, All Alone, I Re-experience Them Again And Again. It Is How Wisdom Comes. And How We Shape Our Future.

She Fell Asleep, And It Was A Sleep As Thin As The Night Clouds, Dotted With Dreams That Came And Went Like The Stars.

I Think 'the Giver' Is Such A Moral Book, So Filled With Important Truths, That I Couldn't Believe Anyone Would Want To Suppress It, To Keep It From Kids.

Memory Is The Happiness Of Being Alone.

Time To Move On

What If They Were Allowed To Choose Their Own Mate? And Chose Wrong?

But Then Everyone Would Be Burdened And Pained. They Don't Want That. And That's The Real Reason The Receiver Is So Vital To Them, And So Honored. They Selected Me--and You-to Lift That Burden From Themselves.

I Turn To Books For A Feeling Of Companionship: For Somebody Knowing What I Have Known.

Of Course They Needed To Care. It Was The Meaning Of Everything.

I Tend Not To Think About Audience When I'm Writing. Many People Who Read "the Giver" Now Have Their Own Kids Who Are Reading It. Even From The Beginning, The Book Attracted An Audience Beyond A Child Audience.

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