It all started in a doctor’s office more than 20 years ago. Alice Randall (The Wind Done Gone, Ada’s Rules) and her daughter, Caroline Randall Williams (now 25), filled their hour-long wait not with old editions of Highlights magazine, but instead with their own story of a little black princess on a magical island.

Since that day, like the staples of early African-American folklore—Br’er Rabbit, John Henry, Stagger Lee—the fairy tale of B.B. Bright has grown, layer upon layer, enveloped in oral history by a mother and her daughter. Precocious B.B. comes to life in their first book together, The Diary of B.B. Bright, Possible Princess.

“B.B. was the princess of infinite possibilities,” Caroline says. “One of the big things my mom always said to me is ‘Smart people are never bored.’ She’s said that since I was very little, so B.B. was a way of creating my own entertainment.”

The three of us are talking at Longpage, Alice’s home in Nashville, on a sweltering Thursday afternoon. Alice and I are seated at the far end of her colossal handmade dining table, and Caroline joins us via Skype from the University of Mississippi, where she has just started her first semester as a poetry grad student. For both mother and daughter, it’s clear that B.B. represents far more than entertainment: She’s a princess to outshine other princesses, and a black heroine to transform the landscape of black children’s literature.

Black Bee Bright, or B.B., is a 13-year-old orphan under the care of three godmommies on Bright World, an island seemingly suspended among the stars, keeping B.B. separate from the reader’s world (“The Other World”) and her own homeland, Raven World. B.B. is secretly the royal heir to the Raven World throne, but she cannot leave the island until she passes her Official Princess Test and meets the eight princesses on the dangerous side of the island. That’s a tall order for any girl, but B.B.’s not just any girl. She might have dreams of boyfriends, best friends and the cool clothes she sees in magazines, but she also knows the Harlem Renaissance writers, loves Shakespeare and faces the unknown with little fear. B.B. shares her dreams and goals to change the world through smart, zippy entries in her diary.

Any little girl, regardless of race, will find B.B. to be funny, adventurous and inspiring—as well as a quintessential middle school girl—but her rich black cultural heritage is personally important for both Alice and Caroline, who spent their respective childhoods searching in vain for a strong black character.

“As I was writing these stories with Caroline initially, it spoke to me,” Alice says. “It was almost like having the black doll I had wanted in my own childhood.”

“I think that’s a great celebration for all kids in humanity—that your race shouldn’t be a tragedy for you. That, I think, is the most revolutionary thing about our book.”

Caroline did have a black doll, the American Girl doll Addy, but she found Addy’s experiences to be harsh and traumatizing in comparison to the other American Girls’ stories. “The other American Girls, they have their trials,” Caroline says, “but Addy gets whipped by an overseer in the first book.”

Alice chimes in, “And forced to eat a tobacco louse or something!”

“I remember one of my best friends’ moms telling me not to tell her daughter about that,” Caroline says. “We’d all gotten the American Girl books together, and we were talking about them at a sleepover. . . . I was telling what happened in Addy’s first book, and [my friend’s] mom was like, ‘No, we don’t talk about that.’ And I was like, ‘Well, it’s my American Girl book!’ But it is crazy; I shouldn’t have been reading it either!”

Through B.B., Alice and Caroline were able to create a character who is proudly black, well informed about her cultural history, and whose trials have nothing to do with the color of her skin. “One of the things that I really love about this book,” Alice says, “is . . . there’s no trauma over the race. Which is one of the things I think is strange about reading books with black central characters, in particular children’s books, is race is always a trauma. . . . [For B.B.,] it’s not a tragedy. No part of her sadness is around her race, and I think that’s a great celebration for all kids in humanity—that your race shouldn’t be a tragedy for you. But in black children’s literature, it almost always is. That, I think, is the most revolutionary thing about our book. That’s something that Caroline insisted on.”

B.B.’s difficulties come more from the process of growing up and becoming a smart, confident young woman, but her main hurdle, the Official Princess Test, reflects a growing reality in children’s lives: test anxiety. Caroline, who taught elementary school in Mississippi for Teach for America, witnessed first-hand her students’ stress about the upcoming National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) test.

“Our students already at six years old were starting to worry about the state test,” Caroline says. It’s no wonder: For children in Mississippi, failure is a real possibility. One out of every 14 kindergarteners and one out of every 15 first graders in the state repeated the school year in 2008. And once behind, Mississippi kids tend to stay behind, as results showed only 61 percent of Mississippi’s students graduated from high school on time, 10 percentage points below the national average. (source)

“[Kids] are constantly being tested,” Alice says, “and their parents are being reproached and praised based on these tests, and the kids were moving on or not moving on based on these hard-and-fast test numbers. . . . We’re coming to an age when people want to see results. And we obviously critique that in certain ways, that these kids are not just test results.”

Plucky B.B., despite the fact that her entire future will be decided by her Official Princess Test, sticks to her guns and answers questions in her own way, even going so far as to interrupt the exam, speak her mind in a very un-princess-y manner and walk out entirely. Afterwards, B.B. must wait to hear her results, but the pressure of possible failure doesn’t keep her down. She works on her candle business (her friendship with bees comes in handy), furthers her involvement in the Heifer Project (though she cannot leave Bright World, she can send mail to the Other World and is very involved in charities there), and then heads off on her own to the other side of the island, where she learns more about herself than any test can prove. B.B.’s no Snow White; she tackles her own problems head on.

“B.B’s sort of actualizing her own things,” Caroline says, “and taking possession of her future as a princess and feeling confident about her own testing choices and having her own sense of self, despite whatever the result may be. She’s gathering her courage from her experiences.”

After encountering such an unforgettable character as B.B., it’s great news to hear that Alice and Caroline hope to continue the series with a second book for B.B., a B.B. picture book and, most excitingly, three more princesses with two books each.

“This is a journey that we are inviting every girl to make,” Alice says. “You’re finding your own leadership skills and your own creativity and your own nurturing, your own intellectualness, your own physical prowess. If you want to say it in a highfalutin way, the Jungian girl-power power.”

At this, Caroline laughs. “Mom,” she groans.

Alice laughs, too. “I said if you want to say it in a highfalutin way! One of Caroline’s great qualities is, she may be smarter than me, but she always keeps it simple. She’s the younger one, but she’s the one who’s wise enough to say, ‘Let’s bring it down to earth.’”

Jacqueline Kelly has had a mole, a badger, a rat and a toad in her head for 50 years. But not to worry—it wasn’t due to anything frightening or medically improbable. Rather, the four are the charming protagonists of The Wind in the Willows, one of Kelly’s lifelong favorite books.

Kelly, a 2010 Newbery Honoree for her first book, The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate, told BookPage in an interview from her Austin, Texas, home that she was eight years old when she first turned the pages of Kenneth Grahame’s classic tale (which was first published in England in 1908). “I was in bed with the flu, and [the book] immediately transported me to the riverbank,” she says. “I loved everything about it, and reread it over the years. The characters never went away.”

And now, she’s set them free in Return to the Willows, a charming sequel that’s faithful to the original book while adding creative touches of her own.

Some might suggest that Kelly’s got a lot of moxie for writing a sequel to a beloved classic—and adding new characters, to boot—but, she says, “It didn’t occur to me that people would think that. I’m just being a worshipful fan of the original, my favorite book when I was a child.” She is aware there are other sequels out there, and says, “When I started writing, I didn’t know about them, and was rather dismayed when I learned they existed. I made the decision I wasn’t going to read them. . . . I still haven’t.”

When she began to write her sequel, Kelly says it was because she “felt compelled to do it. The characters were being insistent!” Judging from the hilarious and heartwarming result, Kelly (and those characters) made the right decision. Return to the Willows is an engaging, imagination-stimulating read for longtime fans and first-time visitors to the River, Wild Wood and Toad Hall.

"I'm just being a worshipful fan of the original, my favorite book when I was a child."

The author’s adoration shines through in the book’s tone and rhythm; reading Grahame’s book, then Kelly’s, does feel like a continuation, rather than a re-interpretation. She attributes that to the sounds and words of her youth: “My childhood was in Canada, and kids there read more British-based literature than kids in the States do, so I heard that sort of language and tone at an early age. Plus, my family is from New Zealand. . . . It’s easy for me to hear an English accent in my head while I’m writing.”

For American readers who might be puzzled by phrases like “bib and tucker” or words like “tittle” (that’s “best clothing” and “little bit,” respectively), Kelly included footnotes. “I wrestled with it,” she recalls. “Do I keep the British terms? If I convert to American terms, wouldn’t the text look very strange? So I thought I could deal with it by using footnotes, and try to make them entertaining.”

And of course, as a devotee of the book (and author—she’s a member of the Kenneth Grahame Society), she carefully considered things like new technology and those new characters. “I did contemplate—for about two seconds!—giving them computers and cell phones. But I just couldn’t see it. I’m too old-fashioned to see these characters texting each other,” she says.

Kelly decided that new additions would serve the story well, so readers will meet Matilda, a lovely and clever rat, and young Humphrey, the intelligent (and adorable) nephew of Toad. “I thought Matilda needed to be added for contemporary girl readers,” Kelly says, “and Humphrey would be a good foil for Toad, who’s not so smart.”

Speaking of the irresponsible yet irresistible Toad, readers needn’t fret: He’s just as wacky and daring here as he was in Grahame’s original. In Kelly’s story, his new mode of delightful destruction is a hot-air balloon (which is, of course, not unrelated to his own propensity for gassing on). He also sustains a head injury that transforms him into a genius with a seat at Trinity College in Cambridge, where his smarts (and Kelly’s sly humor) know seemingly no bounds. He does the Sunday Times crossword in pen; publishes a scientific paper called “Jam Side Down: A Discourse on the Physics of Falling Toast”; and casually memorizes the score to Gilbert & Sullivan’s HMS Pinafore . . . which comes in handy when he serves as a virtuoso last-minute replacement for the female lead.

There are river excursions, giant explosions, swimming lessons and an all-out animal-on-animal war, too; adventures, friendships, dramatic plots and all sorts of excitement abound (not to mention references ranging from Austen to Shakespeare to a certain Disneyland ride). The striking realism of certain events was aided by consultations with Kelly’s husband, who attended Cambridge and has connections there—and with the explosives experts who work in the federal building in Austin where Kelly practices medicine part-time.

That’s right: Kelly went to medical school, then law school (she no longer practices), and then began to write when she was in her mid-40s. “I always wanted to be a writer, from the very beginning, and I took these long divagations along the way,” she says. “I’m very grateful now . . . this is how I want to spend my time.”

Thanks to Kelly, readers certainly will enjoy spending their time catching up on old friends and meeting new ones along the riverbank. Clint Young’s illustrations add much to the experience; his artwork is masterfully done, with detail, depth and plenty of emotion. Return to the Willows will inspire us to respect nature, be kind to our friends, be open to change, embrace hilarity . . . and perhaps take another, closer look at any furry or amphibious creatures we encounter.

In his first published book, acclaimed director and screenwriter Gary Ross takes young readers on a high-flying journey that stretches all the way from a boy’s bedroom to a pirate-infested island and a hidden canyon. Bartholomew Biddle and the Very Big Wind is a rousing adventure story with a nostalgic feel, told entirely in rhyme and featuring lively illustrations in oil by noted artist Matthew Myers.

Ross is best known as the director of The Hunger Games but his Hollywood breakthrough came in 1988 as screenwriter of the Tom Hanks’ hit Big. He went on to write the screenplays for such films as Dave, Pleasantville and Seabiscuit, and made his directorial debut with Pleasantville. It was during his work as a co-writer on the animated film version of Kate DiCamillo’s The Tale of Despereaux that Ross first made contact with Candlewick Books, which is publishing his new children’s book.

We asked Ross to tell us about the inspiration for Bartholomew Biddle, who swoops and soars across rooftops and questions the status quo wherever he goes.

The character of Bartholomew Biddle was created in 1996 when your friend needed an unpublished children’s story to be read in a film. Why did you decide to turn the story into a book?
I didn't really think about it for a long, long time. I wrote a few stanzas for my friend’s movie then forgot about it for years. After a while inquiries started popping up on the Internet—people asking where they could buy the book. I wrote a little bit more for fun and then put it away again. A few years ago I showed it to Karen Lotz from Candlewick when we were making [the film of] The Tale of Despereaux. She loved it and they bought it and I sat down to write the bulk of the book that year. It was a lot of rhyming that year.

Bartholomew flies through the sky with a bedsheet after he discovers the “granddaddy of winds” outside his room. What inspired this image?
I've always loved to fly. I took flying lessons when I was young. I still take occasional lessons in a helicopter. I'm fascinated and drawn to it. I've always flown in my dreams (the good ones). I think flying is about freedom—literally breaking free from the constraints that hold you down. There is honestly nothing more exhilarating than being up in the air.

Bart encounters several situations in his journey that make him challenge the status quo. Is this part of the message of your book? What lesson do you hope young readers will take from Bartholomew Biddle?
He is constantly questioning. But he challenges rules for rules’ sake. I don't think it's a process of rebellion—it's more about coming to know himself. To have his own ethical code. His own set of rules for himself. Hopefully we all acquire that in life.

How was the process of writing a children’s book different from writing a screenplay?
Honestly, it's completely different. For one thing, you're writing the finished product every day. When I write a film, it's a document that is a plan for a movie that will be filmed one day. When I write a page of verse, that's it. Its a direct communication from me to the reader, so it feels very different and it's very satisfying. Some people have said that there is a cinematic quality to the book, so in that sense, I guess it was influenced by my day job. I suppose I can't help it.

What inspired you to write the book completely in verse? How do you think the rhymes add to experience of reading the book?
Well it's a little like having the music and the lyrics all at once. Rhyme imparts a feel, rhythm, sound: Something that operates beneath the conscious level of the text. When it’s working well, it underscores and supports the content of the text. I have always liked to rhyme and it seemed like a wonderful challenge to tell a long narrative in verse. I wondered if I could sustain that. As I went, the rhyming (thank God) started to feel like second nature. It was a great experience.

Were you involved in choosing Matthew Myers as the book’s illustrator? What do you think his drawings add to the story?
Candlewick showed me several illustrators and I fell in love with Matthew's work. I thought it was loose and free and gestural and at the same time very emotional. I couldn't be happier with the illustrations.

Your twins were one-year-olds when you began the tale of Bartholomew Biddle. Is this story for them? Now that they’re teenagers, what do they think of the book?
They really like it. They've heard it along the way. They both love to read and they love poetry so it was great sharing it with them.

When you were a kid, what did you dream of doing?
My first aspiration was to operate a caterpillar tractor. I thought they looked amazingly cool. Maybe it was the bright yellow. Along the way I wanted to be a surveyor, a chef and president of the United States. But all the time I was writing and acting and putting on shows, so I guess this was always happening even when I didn't realize it. I've also rhymed from a pretty early age so maybe this was inevitable.

What were some of your favorite books as a child?
Wow, so many. Much of Dr. Seuss: If I Ran the Circus, And To Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street, McElligot’s Pool. . . . There was a great book that won the Newbery called The Twenty-One Balloons that I read over and over. As I started to get older it was stuff that many kids love: Huckleberry Finn, Catcher in the Rye. It's honestly hard to make a list. I remember loving A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court even when I was very young.  

Are there more children’s books in your future?
I hope so. Several years ago I spent time studying the Civil War era with a professor at Harvard named John Stauffer. He and I have talked about writing a children's history of the era. I love Gombrich's A Little History of the World, a world history written for kids. I think it would be great to tell the story of the era in terms that kids can understand.

Image from Bartholomew Biddle and The Very Big Wind, reprinted with permission of Candlewick Books.

In both of Clare Vanderpool’s artfully written novels, the young protagonists’ fathers yank them out of the lives they’ve known and deposit them in unfamiliar surroundings, where they must make sense of the past and find their way in a strange new present.

But while Abilene (the main character in the 2011 Newbery Medal winner Moon Over Manifest) and 13-year-old Jack Baker of Navigating Early both narrate richly layered tales that explore memory, loss, discovery and redemption, their stories are in fact quite different.

Vanderpool says in an interview from her home in Wichita, Kansas, “Abilene has never lived in one place or been grounded in a community, and that’s what she’s sent to.” By contrast, “Jack was comfortable and grounded, and now he’s at the edge of the country without any bearings.”

Indeed, when Kansas-boy Jack sees the ocean for the first time, he throws up. A bumpy cargo-plane ride to the Maine coast contributed to his stomach upset, but his disorientation also stems from emotional upheaval: World War II has just ended, Jack’s mother has recently died, and his father has brought him east to attend a boys’ boarding school near his military post in Portsmouth. Although Jack can appreciate the salty air, the ocean waves are forbidding and the multi-hued sand reminds him of his beloved mother, who was like “sand that clings to your body, leaving its impression on your skin to remind you of where you’ve been and where you come from.”

Even as he grieves the loss of his mother and his home, Jack begins to explore his new surroundings, goes out for the crew team and becomes friends with a boy named Early Auden. Early is an intelligent, eccentric sort: He’s obsessed with the Appalachian brown bear and timber rattlesnake, plays Billie Holliday only when it rains, and he has excellent water-sports skills, too.

That bundle of attributes make Early irresistibly intriguing to Jack, and as the boys grow closer, Early reveals something even more fascinating: The numbers of pi have colors, and he can read in the numbers a dramatic and exciting story that’s going to help him find that brown bear—and his brother, a soldier who was lost in the war.

Jack listens to each installment of the adventures of Pi (the hero of Early’s tale), but is skeptical about the story, let alone the possibility of finding bear or brother. Even so, he joins Early on his quest: The two explore on land and sea along the Appalachian Trail, and encounter a range of unusual people with their own stories—some scary, some poignant, all of them mysteriously similar to the people and places in the tale of Pi’s journey.

Navigating Early is a complex story, to be sure, and it’s all the more satisfying for its poetic language and intimation that not everything has a logical explanation. Vanderpool herself is quite comfortable with the latter notion. “Jack’s mom introduces that idea to him . . . the way our paths cross, our lives intersect and collide,” she says. “They’re all things I’ve experienced in my own life. I know this story pushes magical realism just a tad, but I’m okay with that because, in my own life, there are amazing things that happen, coincidences and connections you would never expect.”

The novel’s exploration of the ways in which physical places can shape our emotions is also a theme that’s been central to Vanderpool’s experience. “That absolutely comes from me,” she says. “I’ve traveled a lot, and have lived in the same neighborhood my whole life, which I love. It’s very much part of my makeup.” She adds with a laugh, “When I was dating my husband, I joked with him and said, ‘Where you go, I go! Pick any house on these four streets.’” And so he did: They and their four children live in a house two blocks from Vanderpool’s childhood home.

Having her mother nearby is something Vanderpool enjoys, not least because the idea for Navigating Early was touched off by her mother’s description of a vivid dream about a young man who was an exceptionally talented pianist. “That got me thinking,” she says. “I thought it would be interesting to write about a younger character with some type of savant ability.”

She began to do research about savants, and about pi, which, she says, “is the be-all, end-all for people that are into [math]. . . . It has a magical, mystical quality.” A trip to Maine helped solidify the landscape in her mind. And then, Vanderpool says, Early made himself known: “At a certain point,” she explains, “you let go of the inspiration and research and the characters take over. . . . It might sound strange because they’re characters you’re making up, but it’s the only way I can describe it. You give them a chance to tell you who they are.”

Fortunately, Vanderpool was listening. In doing so, she has created a memorable story that is by turns poignant, funny and exciting—and reminds us not to rule out the possibility that there might be a bit of magic in our everyday lives.

Previously best known as the co-author of the mega-selling Animorphs series, Katherine Applegate vaults into the ranks of literary luminaries in the children’s book world as the 2013 winner of the Newbery Medal. Her moving novel, The One and Only Ivan, was inspired by the real-life story of a gorilla caged at a shopping mall in Washington state for 27 years. We caught up with Applegate during the whirlwind that followed Monday’s awards announcement to find out how she was dealing with all the excitement.

What was the first thing that went through your head when you found out you had won the Newbery Medal?
There must have been a clerical error.

Who was the one person you couldn’t wait to tell about your award?
My husband, Michael Grant; my editor, Anne Hoppe; my agent, Elena Mechlin at Pippin Properties—those go without saying. But I also couldn’t wait to tell John Schumacher, librarian extraordinaire, and Colby Sharp, teacher extraordinaire, because they both were such supporters of the book.

Do you have a favorite past Newbery winner?
Sarah, Plain and Tall. Patricia MacLachlan is such a gift to children’s literature.

What's the best part of writing books for a younger audience?
When a kid loves your book, you’re a total rock star.

What kind of reaction have you gotten from your readers about this book?
An outpouring of love for the characters. It’s so touching and humbling.

Have you read or listened to past Newbery acceptance speeches? Are you excited (or worried!) about your own speech?
Yes and yes. I’m thinking of hiring a surrogate.

What’s next for you?
Another blank page. And lots of smiling.

Though his first book for children was 2005's Pond Scum, Alan Silberberg first attracted our attention with the publication of Milo: Sticky Notes and Brain Freeze in 2010. This unexpectedly tender book combines humor and insight with Silberberg's own cartoon-style drawings to tell the story of a boy dealing with an aching sense of loss after the death of his mother.

Silberberg turns to a much lighter topic in his latest book, The Awesome, Almost 100% True Adventures of Matt & Craz. The two unlikely friends of the title can't seem to catch a break, either at school, where their comics are rejected by the newspaper editor, or at home, where family issues make life tough. All that changes when Matt and Craz order a cool new drawing pen and discover that it has the magical ability to make anything they draw really happen.

A successful writer and producer for TV and movies before he began writing children's books, Silberberg answered our questions about his entertaining new adventure from his home in Montreal.

Matt and Craz are about as different as two boys could be. Did you base their relationship on a childhood friendship of your own? Did you have any friends who were polar opposites of you?
It's funny, but I didn't base the characters on any of my own friends. The truth is Matt and Craz are both different sides of the kid I was: the cautious cartoonist who was always doodling and the wild, uncensored kid whose mind was spinning and making stuff up.

When did you know you wanted to be a writer/cartoonist?
From 2nd grade on I was that kid sitting in class doodling in the margins of his notebooks. By the time I was 10 or 11 I was making cartoon characters and using my drawings to tell little stories so I felt like I was a "cartoonist" early on and loved filling sheets of paper with my doodles and cartoons. The thing is as a young person I never knew you could "be a writer" but I liked to tell stories and make people laugh. From the time I was a teenager I recognized my ability to listen to other people talk and then toss in a funny comment and get a laugh. But it was in high school that I realized it would be amazingly cool to combine my cartoons and my sense of humor with writing . . . not that I ever imagined I would end up writing books and using my cartoons to help tell the story.

Why did you choose this form for the book—text with occasional drawings—rather than using a comic book style?
A graphic novel—pages of cartoon panels that tell the story in a comic book form—is a wonderful way to tell stories and I would love to tackle that format someday. But telling a story with a narrative format lets me immerse the reader in the story through words, which I believe create a different brain/imagination process. I really love words and there is nothing like writing a wonderful passage. But being able to add cartoon illustrations and doodle punchlines to my narrative—as well as let full page cartoons tell the story—is a very satisfying mix of mediums. If I didn't do both I think my cartooning self would feel jealous of my writer self—and vice versa!

We love your portrayal of Craz's boring English teacher, Mrs. Bentz, but we wonder how teachers will feel about her! Are you expecting any complaints from the (ahem) "educational establishment"?
Oh, I sure hope not. I have nothing but respect and love for English teachers everywhere. I just wanted to create a fun adult character who wasn't evil or mean—someone who was kind of obsessed with one work of literature and that was all she taught, which could get kind of boring after a while. Actually, Matt and Craz find a way to use the magic to give her the best gift ever (no spoilers!). The thing is she isn't at all a "bad" teacher—she's just fixated on Treasure Island to the exclusion of everything else!

With his mother working and his parents split up, Matt struggles to deal with his changing home life, wishing he could use a "big fat eraser to make it all go away." What advice would you have for a kid in Matt's shoes today?
I'm pretty sure the "perfect family" doesn't exist. Kids know this. They are always assessing their own family and seeing how it stacks up to one of their friend's situations. I think it's normal to want to fix your family and make it better no matter the situation. I would want kids to know there is no "magic" solution but there are always people to talk to; friends, teachers, parents. No matter what bad situation you feel you are in – letting someone know what's going on for you is always helpful even if it's just removing that heavy weight from your shoulders.

In the book, Matt's new pen makes his comic strips come to life. It's great seeing these two "rejects" become all-powerful. Did you have a lot of fun coming up with Matt and Craz's adventures? Which is your favorite?
Yes! Creating the specifics of what Matt and Craz will actually "draw" was a blast for me. Of course I wanted some of their desires to be realized so they could see what life might be like if they got everything they wanted. But I also knew I had the chance for some really funny and crazy action because of the pen. My favorite is when the boys craft their perfect Saturday Night – which, of course, goes wildly wrong!

If you had Matt's pen, what would you want to bring to life?
Hmmm. If I had Matt's pen I would draw a fantastic bakery right next door to my house with a big sign that reads "Free Chocolate Chip Cookies". Then I'd draw a gym where I would hopefully go to after my daily trips next door!

You've written books, movies and TV shows. Which do you enjoy the most?
No matter the genre, I love writing and making stuff up but I am basically a "grass is always greener" kind of guy. I think that's why I am always pining for the project I am not doing . . . until I start it and remember how hard that kind of writing is because writing, no matter what you write, is hard! But if I HAD to pick one—writing books gives me the most satisfaction and joy.

Who are your idols/role models in writing for children?
As a kid I loved reading the Sunday comics with my dad. I was really a huge Peanuts fan and I think Charles Schultz's sensitivity and subtle humor had a large impact on me. More recently, I was in love with the odd sensibility and style of Gary Larsen's Far Side cartoons, and also just adore the writing and artwork of Richard Thompson's comic strip Cul de Sac, which sadly has ended. The authors I admire are the ones with an obvious sense of humor who don't talk down to kids, like Roald Dahl and the one and only Daniel Pinkwater—but truthfully, that is a long and growing list.

What message do you hope young readers will take away from Matt and Craz's escapades (and their friendship)?
I would hope kids recognize a little of themselves (and their friends) in my two protagonists and see how it's normal for problems to arise even among the best of friends. I also hope readers will take a little of the magic with them. What wonderful things would they want to create for themselves to make their own lives better?—knowing that you have to be very careful what you wish for!

Illustrations from The Awesome, Almost 100% True Adventures of Matt & Craz, © Alan Silberberg, reprinted with permission of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing.

Maile Meloy’s middle grade books mix adventure with historical fiction, scientific curiosity and a hefty dose of thrilling, mysterious magic. They also feature extensive artwork that helps to tell the story, so Meloy’s fans won’t be surprised to learn that she considers herself a visual thinker.

In fact, Meloy says in a call from her Los Angeles home, it was her habit of using clip art to organize chapters that sparked the idea for publishing the books as illustrated novels. Her middle grade debut, The Apothecary, came about after two screenwriter friends told her their idea for “a movie about a magical apothecary, set during the Cold War.” They eventually decided it should be done as a novel first, with Meloy as the writer. “They provided a beginning and some general ideas. It was fantastic to have that push. . . . And part of the reason why I used art to organize it was because they’re such visual thinkers, too. Over time, it became a great way to make sure I had the right focus, so I’d make sure I had a title and image to go with each chapter.”

The illustrations in her books certainly enhance the story, such as when she wants to “build suspense, or illustrate a samovar or Samoyed dog.” Ian Schoenherr’s artwork is detailed and vibrant, achieving whimsy without being cutesy. Even better, his line work evokes depth and darkness when something scary or sad looms, and it’s just plain fun to turn a page and encounter, say, giant frogs’ eyes calmly contemplating the reader.

The magic in her books, of course, lends itself well to fantastical artwork, and it also provides her characters with the adventure of their lives. After the events of The Apothecary, Janie, Benjamin and Pip have been scattered to the far corners of the world at the beginning of The Apprentices. The year is 1954, two years since they’ve all been together. They’re all dealing with often exciting, sometimes disturbing new realities: Janie has returned to America, where she’s diving into the intellectual challenges at a New England boarding school . . . but a jealous roommate and her sinister father just might upend everything. Benjamin and his father are working together in the midst of war in the Vietnam jungle, and Pip is swanning about Europe enjoying his new TV-star status.

Despite their geographical separation (and lots of hazy memories), they find new, strange ways to communicate and eventually start making their way back to each other as they become embroiled in a race against time to maintain world peace (and perhaps foil a few bad guys along the way). Readers will pick up some fascinating historical information, too, and they’ll be intrigued to encounter kids who sometimes know more than adults, scientists who believe in magic and birds that might not be just birds.

Meloy, who has also published four books for adults, all critically lauded, says she didn’t have to make a concerted effort to change her writing for younger readers. “I did say to myself at one point, I have the Invasion of Nanking in a children’s book—what am I doing?” she says with a laugh. “But I feel like kids do deal with big issues, so that was really the only thing where I decided to tone down the description a bit.” She explains that Janie, who narrates the books, “is writing as an adult, and everything is how she experienced it at 14, so that determined the register, and she can explain things she knows now but didn’t know at 14. Plus, she’s an intelligent kid.”

This isn’t the first time Meloy has worked on stories for children. After graduating from Harvard in the mid-1990s, she moved out to L.A. and worked in what she describes as a “funny little corner of Disney, where they did direct-to-DVD animation of things like sequels to big movies, and fairy-tale-based projects. It was great storytelling training . . . really smart people telling universal stories about love and loss and home.”

Considering her successful career thus far, it’s safe to say she took that training to heart. The Apothecary and The Apprentices have at their heart a group of characters that readers care deeply about, judging by the wonderful letters Meloy’s young fans send her. She says, “You don’t get that when writing books for adults. You don’t get letters with illustrations in the margins, or pleas for a sequel. So that’s really fun.”

Meloy also loves that the covers for both books are gender neutral. “When writing novels for grown-ups, I’d get a cover design and say that no guy will ever pick up this book, and they’d say men don’t read novels. It made me so sad,”she recalls. “With these books, they’re told by a girl, boys have a major part in it, they’re adventures. . . . I’ve really found a lot of the kids that connect to it are boys.” Mother-daughter book groups are particular fans, too.

Boys, girls, young, old: If readers loved The Apothecary, they’ll be thrilled to get their hands on The Apprentices—and to learn that Meloy is now writing a third book about Janie and her cohorts. We can’t share too many details, but she did reveal that Book 3 begins soon after Book 2, and there will be plenty of magic. Let the anticipation begin!

Readers learn on the very first page of Paperboy, Vince Vawter’s touching middle grade novel, that the young narrator has a problem with words, at least with spoken words. “The funny way I talk is not so much like fat pigs in cartoons as I just get stuck on a sound and try to push the word out,” writes the paperboy, who prefers typing on his father’s trusty typewriter to talking.

During one all-important summer, the paperboy will make some important discoveries about himself, about his struggles with stuttering, about human nature and the world in which he lives.

We asked Vawter, who recently retired after a 40-year career as a newspaper writer and editor, to tell us more about this moving and largely autobiographical story.

Just like the paperboy, you’ve struggled with stuttering. What’s the biggest misconception people have about stuttering? How would you set them straight?
Stuttering is caused by the improper movement of muscles in several fine-motor-skill groups. Nothing more, nothing less. It is NOT due to mental capacity or personality traits such as shyness or nervousness. If you talk to a person who stutters, don’t finish sentences or say “just slow down and take your time.”

“If you talk to a person who stutters, don’t finish sentences or say 'just slow down and take your time.' ”

Your novel tells the story of a boy filling in on a friend’s paper route during the summer of 1959 in segregated Memphis. What do you think this setting adds to the story?
While the paperboy is confused about his inability to speak properly, he is just as confused about why the person to whom he is closest, the family housekeeper, is treated differently just because of her color.

The paperboy learns techniques from a speech therapist for helping his words come out easier. How has speech therapy changed since 1959? Are the same techniques used today?
Huge strides have been made in speech therapy since the 1950s. Techniques have been refined to the point where they hardly resemble what was taught 50 years ago. A young person who stutters has much better odds now for overcoming his or her speech difficulties.

What’s the best advice you have for a child struggling with a stutter?
Know that you are going through the toughest time right now. You have work ahead of you, but it gets easier. You will find your voice and you will do well by it.

Though your book has many memorable characters, we especially love the housekeeper, Mam, who gives the paperboy so much love and support. Can you tell us about the inspiration for this character and what you were trying to capture in her?
While all the characters in the book (except for Mr. Spiro) are based on persons from my childhood, Mam is probably the closest to reality. The real “Mam” lived with us for six years and I loved her dearly. It’s hard for me to describe her now as a “housekeeper.” I think of her more as a “soul-keeper.” While Mr. Spiro was erudite and “book smart,” I tried to show that the unschooled Mam was just as wise in her own way.

Author Vince Vawter in 1957, already learning to appreciate the usefulness of a typewriter for telling stories.

Mr. Spiro becomes an influential mentor for the paperboy. How does he forge this connection? What does he do right in his dealings with the boy that most adults can’t seem to manage?
I mentioned earlier that Mr. Spiro was the only character in the novel not based on an actual person from my childhood. During the writing I began to wonder exactly who Mr. Spiro was, and then it occurred to me that Mr. Spiro is the present day Vince Vawter. Mr. Spiro connected with the boy because he saw through the superficiality of the boy’s stutter and helped him find self-worth.

What universal lessons can young readers take away from the paperboy’s very specific struggle with stuttering?
Never measure your worth by what others can or can’t do. Always be true to yourself. You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime you just might find you get what you need. (Thank you, Mick Jagger.)

For children growing up today, a “paperboy” probably seems as remote as a knight from King Arthur’s realm. Did you have a paper route as a child? How would you describe the job—and its best and worst aspects—to today’s kids?
Just as the paperboy in the book, I substituted on a route for a month during my youth. I am disappointed that the paperboy with a bag hanging from the shoulders is going away. A newspaper route teaches responsibility, above all. If anyone doubts the importance of a newspaper carrier, all one has to do is take a call from an angry subscriber whose newspaper is late or missing.

In the author’s note, you describe Paperboy as “more memoir than fiction.” Why did you decide to tell your story in a novel for children, rather than an autobiography?
The first incarnation of Paperboy was adult fiction about twice the length it is now. The second attempt was as a memoir. My agent convinced me that the proper venue was a novel for young people, and I thank her every day for setting me on that course. Mr. Spiro, a character in the novel, also weighs in on the subject when he tells the paperboy that “more truth can be found in fiction than nonfiction.”

How did your work as a newspaper writer and editor influence your writing style in this book? What changes did you make to adapt your writing for children?
A journalist “tells” and a novelist “shows.” That was my first big hurdle. After I settled on the paperboy’s voice, I found it liberating to write for a younger audience because I didn’t feel obligated to try to impress the reader with literary weightlifting. I could just concentrate on the story. While Paperboy is suitable for the middle grades, I like to make the case that it can be read on another level by adults. How many children’s books include Voltaire, Greek mythology, a unique discussion of the soul and the concept of existentialism? Not to mention Howdy Doody.

Do you have plans to write any more children’s books, perhaps even a sequel to Paperboy? We would love to hear more from Mr. Spiro when he returns from his travels.
My agent says readers will let me know if I should write a sequel. I did leave Mr. Spiro dangling a bit, just in case.

RELATED CONTENT: Read a review of Paperboy.

Fiction writers are often exasperated by questions from readers who want to know whether their books’ characters and events are based on real life. Not so with Kirkpatrick Hill.

Instead, she told BookPage in an interview from her Fairbanks, Alaska, home, “Everything in the book is pretty much true. Think of me as a Grandma Moses type: I’m just recapturing things.”

In her eighth novel for young readers, Bo at Ballard Creek, Hill sends us back to the 1920s, to a post-gold rush town called Ballard Creek that sits on the Koyukuk River. She herself lived at a mining camp as a child in the 1940s—she comes from a family of mining engineers—and says she was “just like Bo.”

Readers who grew up in suburbs or cities—really, anywhere that doesn’t have Alaska’s snow and ice and bouts of 24-hour daylight—may find it hard to picture living in a 1920s mining town intertwined with an Eskimo village, a place where everyone has a broom on the front stoop (it’s rude not to sweep snow off your boots before you go inside); kids are told not to run in the woods because a bear might chase them; and only one resident has ever laid eyes on an airplane.

But thanks to Hill’s vivid writing (and her palpable fondness for her home state), plus LeUyen Pham’s artful, adorable illustrations, the places and people of Bo’s world soon feel familiar. Especially because, despite being set in a seemingly exotic place, Hill’s story encompasses universal themes—like the fact that families don’t require members to be blood relations.

Bo’s own family is described in the first chapter: “Bo had two fathers and no mothers, and after she got the fathers, she got a brother, too. But not in the usual way.”

It’s a promising, tantalizing start, and Hill has crafted an entertaining and interesting backstory: Bo’s fathers both came to Alaska in the gold rush of 1897, in search of work and a way to get some distance from sadness. Arvid, a Swede, had recently lost his mother, and Jack, an African American, was grieving the death of his fiancée. The two big, strong men became friends and workmates, and when Bo’s mother (a “good-time girl” known as Mean Millie) thrust her baby at them and demanded they take her to a local orphanage, Arvid and Jack couldn’t bear to leave her there. So they took her home and, with help from their miner and Eskimo neighbors, they became Bo’s family.

Hill says the blend of races and cultures in Bo at Ballard Creek jives with her own experiences, as does Bo’s unofficial adoption. She says, “It happened a lot. It was a ubiquitous thing, not just men of course. . . . And also, within the Indian culture, it was very common for people to give up their kids. Kids would live right in the same village with their natural parents and have two sets of relatives. And you see, Jack and Arvid had no legal claim to Bo at all, because they never would’ve had to.”

It’s fascinating stuff, not least because it’s true. That’s very important to Hill, who says her urge to commit Alaska—and its singular history, dramatic terrain and diverse people—to the printed page was prompted by years of frustration with the way the state was depicted in books and other media. As a mother of six, and during her 30-plus years as an elementary school teacher, Hill encountered many ill-informed books about her state. “I would read Alaska books to my children, and they were all totally bogus because the authors weren’t from Alaska. And Jack London . . . it was as bogus as you could get!” So, she decided she’d write about Alaska herself.

Her first book, Toughboy and Sister, was published in 1990, when Hill was in her early 50s (if you’re wondering, Grandma Moses began painting in her 70s). She explains, “I’d gotten seriously broke and needed a new life plan, so I thought, ‘Well, I’ll just send this off and get some money.’ I had no clue how anything worked at all!” Then, she says, “By the sheerest good luck, it fell into the right hands. A dear, lovely person got it out of the slush pile and wrote me a letter. . . . It never should’ve happened. You just don’t do things like that!”

But Hill did, and it worked—and she’s been writing ever since. While her protagonists are a range of ages, and her time periods are both historic and contemporary, all of her books are set in her beloved home state and make real the traditions and trials, foods and fun experienced by the people who have lived there, from sliding down a riverbank, to making ice cream out of decidedly non-dairy ingredients, to hearing the click-clacks of a telegraph machine.

Like all of Hill’s novels, Bo at Ballard Creek is a fine mix of happiness and hard truths, reverence for history and excitement about innovation. It’s enough to make readers want to visit Alaska to see it for themselves. Though perhaps, for those who are winter-precipitation-averse, you might want to check the forecast first: When she spoke with BookPage in May, Hill realized that day was her “last ticket for the ice pool. . . . I guessed on days the ice would go out. But the weather’s gone mad, and we’re still experiencing winter when normally there would be leaves on the trees. I’m looking out my window at snow, deep snow.”

Some people have lucky numbers; others have lucky stars. Holly Goldberg Sloan credits her career change, and her subsequent success as an author of children’s books, to something a little different: a lucky shrimp.

Alas, said shellfish wasn’t so felicitous for Sloan’s husband. But for her, it touched off a life-changing transition from screenwriter (numerous feature films, including Angels in the Outfield) to author (2011’s I’ll Be There, and now Counting by 7s).

In a phone call from her Santa Monica, California, home, Sloan told BookPage the story of how her first book came to be: “My friend asked us to go on a trip, and didn’t give a lot of specifics. It turned out we went to a vegetarian yoga resort, which was totally cool with me, but my husband isn’t a vegetarian and doesn’t do yoga. The first night, I asked if they had meat or protein of any kind. They were able to get a limited amount of shrimp, so he ordered that.”

Then, gastrointestinal disaster struck—and between her husband being out of commission for a week and the resort’s no-Internet-or-TV policy, Sloan found she had some time to kill. “It was really serendipitous,” she says. “If I hadn’t gone on a crazy vacation in Mexico, where I was on my own and my husband was in a stone hut, sick . . . I wouldn’t have had so much time on my hands, and started writing a book.”

Fortunately, Sloan’s husband was not harmed during the writing of her brilliant second book, Counting by 7s, which draws readers into the singular world of eccentric 12-year-old Willow Chance.

Sloan has created a story where the line between youth and adulthood moves back and forth.

Willow applies her prodigious intelligence to her hobbies: a thriving and varied backyard garden, and the diagnosis of medical conditions. “I am particularly drawn to skin disorders,” Willow explains with a seriousness that is at once amusing and endearing, “which I photograph only if the subject (and one of my parents) isn’t looking.” She also counts by sevens to establish a soothing sense of order. “It’s an escape technique,” Willow says.

But when her parents, with whom she has a loving relationship, are killed in a car accident, Willow’s pain cannot be organized or soothed away. Even worse, the policemen who gave her the terrible news are asking about next of kin—and she has none, save a grandmother with dementia.

Then a lie spoken out of compassion—a new friend, Mai, tells the police her family has known Willow’s for a long time, and can thus take her in—offers a temporary reprieve. It also segues into a memorable story of kindness among friends and strangers, the dangers and rewards of taking risks, and ultimately an exploration of the meaning of family.

Sloan’s gift for storytelling is evident: Her characters are sometimes kooky, but not too; trust is earned and happiness tentatively blooms, but not so quickly as to seem unlikely; and Willow’s sorrow isn’t smoothed over, but rather recognized as an addition to her new, unpredictable existence.

If anything might seem improbable to readers, Sloan says, it’s probably Willow’s preternatural poise and smarts. “I know that some people will read the book and think it’s not possible, that Willow seems to have superhuman powers,” she says. “But they just haven’t been around a kid like that. If you’ve been around highly gifted kids, some of them do seem to have superpowers, and corresponding confidence. Those kids spend more time with adults . . . but because they’re more comfortable with adults, they become outcasts in their own peer group.”

Sloan says she’s “always been interested in those kinds of kids,” not least because she was sometimes one of them, which she drew on when creating this story. For example, during one year in elementary school, she left her classroom twice weekly to visit a nearby college campus, where “the psychology department was conducting an experiment rewarding gifted children.” Sloan says, “It was so strange, and it made me feel like an outsider.” In Counting by 7s, Willow leaves class for regular visits with her school’s counselor, Dell Duke—something that further sets her apart from her peers, too.

In addition, Sloan’s father’s job as a consultant to the Peace Corps meant her family had a new address every few years, so she was the new kid in class many times. “I had a peripatetic childhood that in many ways informs who I am today, and influences my writing because I very much identify with outsiders,” she says.

And, she adds, “You can approach that in two ways: Be Willow-esque and retreat to live in your own head, which is a great place to live on some levels, or throw yourself into the situation. Mai . . . throws herself into the world and makes as many connections as she can, while Willow does the opposite until she’s forced to do something else.”

But it’s not just Willow who must learn to behave differently; the adults in Counting by 7s have some growing and changing to do, too. For example, Dell Duke has long categorized the kids he counsels (as misfits, oddballs, geniuses, etc.), but Willow and her friends defy his descriptions. And Mai’s mother’s routines are upended, which makes her cranky—but also leaves her more open to the unexpected.

Sloan says that aspect of the book struck a chord with one of its first readers: “I gave it to a precocious 11-year-old, and she said her favorite character was [taxi driver] Juan, by far. She said she liked him because Willow made him change without even trying. And I know what she’s saying—she’s very attracted to the idea that she could be doing this in the adult world, too.”

It’s easy to imagine that readers—whether kids, adults, young-at-heart adults or precocious kids—will find themselves taken with, even inspired by, Counting by 7s. Sloan has created a story where the line between youth and adulthood moves back and forth, often more than once in a single day—and where kids and adults “have relationships that are real and go both directions,” she says. The book is a moving, often funny reminder that such relationships are worth cultivating, and that being open to new people and experiences—however strange or difficult they may seem—can lead to wonderful things.

After all, look what happened when Sloan and her husband went on that vaguely described vacation, and her husband ate that fateful, tainted crustacean! “I’m hoping that today my husband also thinks it was a lucky shrimp,” Sloan says. “But I don’t ask.”

Gennifer Choldenko admits that as a student, she didn’t particularly enjoy history. That’s a bit surprising to hear from an author who received a Newbery Honor for her first historical novel, Al Capone Does My Shirts (2004).

Writing historical fiction is certainly the California author’s forte, as evidenced in the final entry in her acclaimed Alcatraz trilogy, Al Capone Does My Homework.

This convincing middle grade novel follows the stories of Moose Flanagan and his friends, the children of prison employees on Alcatraz in the 1930s. Living on the island has its challenges, but Moose and the gang always get involved in adventures or mysteries of some kind. In this new installment, Moose’s father has been named associate warden, a position that could expose him to danger. When a fire breaks out at the family’s apartment, many residents suspect that Moose’s autistic sister, Natalie, caused the blaze. But Moose is determined to find out the truth.

MAKING IT REAL

Creating believable characters like Moose and Natalie, as well as a historically correct setting, are incredibly important to Choldenko, who not only consulted primary sources but also volunteered on Alcatraz to advance her research.

“I am recreating an actual time that existed,” she says. “I need to stick to the facts that are appropriate for that time.” Her research into Alcatraz and the era inspires much of her story. “I find the research process really generates so many ideas. I get so excited . . . finding out these little tidbits. It really makes the book feel more real.”

Getting into the minds of her tween characters is not always easy, but, Choldenko says, “I really like being a 12-year-old boy.”

Approaching the characterization of the notorious gangster Al Capone was another challenge. “Al was hard because he actually existed; I had to read a lot and find out where he was coming from,” she says. “It took a while to get his voice believable to me. You keep working on it until it starts to come together.”

At one point in Al Capone Does My Homework, Moose gets a cryptic clue from Capone, but doesn’t know what to make of it. The note on Moose’s homework later figures prominently into the plot. But would the hardened criminal really have offered help to a kid like Moose?

“He did have a small nice side,” Choldenko says. “He had a terrible temper, but if he liked you, he would have done anything for you. . . . [Of course] he would expect something in return.”

In conducting her research on Capone, Choldenko learned that he opened the first soup kitchen in Chicago, one indication of his softer side. “The reality is so much more interesting than anything you can make up. I never tire of doing the research,” she says.

While not everything goes smoothly for Moose and his family, Choldenko’s book is a successful combination of thorough research (including a counterfeiting scheme that one character inadvertently gets involved in), convincing characters (especially the well-drawn Natalie and Moose) and kid-enticing elements (including pixies, baseball and eavesdropping on criminals).

CONNECTING WITH READERS

Choldenko loves hearing from her readers, and she often does. In fact, the title of the new book was inspired by a student suggestion from New Jersey (the original title of the book was Al Capone Is My Librarian, but homework ended up fitting the plot well). Perhaps she appreciates such suggestions more than the letter she got from one fan who said, “I was going to write to Roald Dahl, but he was dead, so I wrote to you instead.”

“I love connecting to kids,” she says. “Unlike adults, they will tell you exactly what they think.”

Choldenko is completing research on her next historical novel—with a bit of science thrown in—due out in 2015 from Random House/Penguin. “It is really challenging me,” she says. All the legwork and the writing, though, have proven rewarding. “I just feel blessed. I really love working on these books.”

Al Capone Does My Homework is a fine conclusion to this popular series, which already has more than one million copies in print. Could a movie be next? Choldenko says the first book has been made into a play, and the books have been optioned for films, but nothing is in the works yet, despite requests for a movie from many young readers.

Children—especially boys—remain eager to read more about mobsters, murderers and Alcatraz, and teachers use her books as clever ways to interest kids in history. And while Choldenko realizes the historical aspect is important, she says, “My goal is always to entertain kids first.”

For unstoppable publishing powerhouse James Patterson, there seems to be no limit on the number of books he can produce or the subjects, age groups and genres he can convincingly tackle.

After reaching the pinnacle of success as an adult suspense writer (with more number-one bestsellers than any other author), he began writing for teens, launching the Maximum Ride series in 2005. Next up was the middle-grade category and two successful series for the 8- to 12-year-old set.

Patterson adds to his bulging oeuvre this fall with Treasure Hunters, a rollicking, funny middle grade adventure, co-written with Chris Grabenstein, in which four homeschooled siblings keep the family treasure-hunting business afloat after their father is swept overboard and disappears.

We caught up with Patterson to learn more about Treasure Hunters, his efforts to connect kids and books and his scholarships for aspiring teachers.

Another middle grade series? Really?? With two successful middle grade series already in progress (Middle School and I Funny) why did you decide to launch another one now?
I say it often, but it’s so true: the books that I am the most passionate about writing are these books that get kids reading. I’m especially proud of the work that Middle School and I Funny have done to fulfill this mission. This one is different, and I’m very proud of it. Treasure Hunters is really my first action/adventure books for middle school-aged kids, and it’s funny. Something that I hope’ll catch the eye of a kid who’s never picked up one of my books before.
 
Treasure maps, sailing ships, orphans, sibling rivalry, adventure—Treasure Hunters has so many things that kids love to read about. What was the inspiration for this story?
I grew up reading Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island.  As a child, I was always on the hunt for buried treasure.  I never quite got over that urge to find it, which is what fueled my initial idea for Treasure Hunters. I also love Indiana Jones, which I think comes through as well…
 
Are you a sailor yourself? Ever been caught in a storm?
I live in Florida. We locals have crazy storm stories. Sure, I’ve been scared, stuck in a storm, I’ve been hit in the back by a sailboat boom. But I’ve certainly have never encountered one as wild as the one that the Kidd family experiences.
 

"For every book I write, I have to surprise myself at the end of each chapter. If it’s no good, I toss the chapter and start over."

 
Why are illustrations an important part of your middle grade books?
I think that the combination of a lot of writing and heavy illustration in kids’ books can be great for engaging young readers.  Kids are drawn to these books because there’s a lot to read AND there’s also a lot to see.  It becomes a combination of a book and a movie, which can engage even the most reluctant reader. Then, you have kids saying, “I love this story. I want to keep reading and find out what happens next.”
 
What do you think kids will like best about Juliana Newfeld's drawings for Treasure Hunters?
Juliana’s images are fantastic. They’re going to really draw kids in and make them feel that they are accompanying the Kidd family on this adventure. Kids will love that. And, they’ll love that Juliana’s artwork is "created" by 12-year-old Rebecca "Beck" Kidd within the story. Call me crazy, but I think kids seeing a brother and sister working together will actually go over well.
 
Tell us three things kids should know about Bick Kidd, the narrator of Treasure Hunters.
Bick Kidd is one of my favorite narrators ever. At 12 years old, he’s already a great storyteller and writer.  He always has his notebook on him and he’s always writing everything down.  He’s one-half of the Kidd twins (his twin sister, Beck, is the illustrator of their story). He thinks of himself as the leader and the navigator, but his siblings would likely disagree with that one.  He loves martial arts. I could keep go on and on about Bick but I feel bad not saying anything about Beck and Storm and Tommy! They’re all unique, great kids and every kid is going to see themselves in one of them.
 
You're the best-selling author in both the YA and middle grade categories. How do you manage to aim squarely at your target audience? Is it challenging to write books for both age groups at the same time?
Having a son who’s now in high school, I know what’s worked for him at both age levels. With my site ReadKiddoRead.com, I’ve had a ton of feedback from parents, teachers and kids about what middle school and high school reads work for them—not just my own books, but books across the board. I know what clicks for a ten year old boy and for an eighteen year old girl. Guess what? They both like jokes. The goal for me is to tell a great story that I believe all kids will enjoy.
 
What would you say are the common elements between your adult thrillers and your books for kids?
This is a must: For every book I write, I have to surprise myself at the end of each chapter. If it’s no good, I toss the chapter and start over. If I’m not turning the pages, then my audience definitely isn’t either. I like to have a hero, too. I’m a fan of those larger-than-life heroes.
 
You've said previously that you didn't do much pleasure reading when you were a kid. If you could talk to your 10-year-old self today, what would you tell him about reading and what he is missing out on?
Two words: Peter Pan. That book was awesome! I would have loved it! Sigh.
 
What is the number-one thing parents should keep in mind when they're trying to select a book for a child?
It’s all about lining up the kid’s interests. If your kid plays soccer and loves it, how about a book on Pelé? If your kid loves going to the zoo, how about animal fact books, or a great fiction fantasy about a bunch of talking cats, like Warriors, or rabbits, like Watership Down? And remember, never knock out books your kids want to read. Comics work. Freedom of choice is key. Give my site ReadKiddoRead.com a look. It’s helped a lot of people so far, and there are great books, tips, and tricks on there.
 
You've publicly supported many causes—from promoting childhood reading to saving bookstores and libraries. But many readers may not be familiar with the Teacher Education Scholarships funded by the Patterson Family Foundation. Why did you think it was important to support teacher education?
Speaking of larger-than-life heroes… I think that heroes are among us, and they are manning our children’s classrooms! For me, getting kids more excited about reading is my absolute number one goal in all this. And I really believe at this stage of my career that I can make a lasting difference, so I’m going all in. Equipping teachers to make that happen is essential. With the sometimes insurmountable expense of going to college, I knew that the schools and grad schools were where I could do some good. My wife and I started with our alma maters, Vanderbilt, Manhattan College and University of Wisconsin. Then we kept going; I’m funding teacher scholarships at twenty different universities.
 
How do you choose the universities that receive the scholarships?
I look for the most innovative teaching programs, and go from there. We craft the scholarships around what makes sense for each college. Applicants must write an essay on their commitment to children’s education, why they want to dedicate their lives to it. Then we check in with them each year, ask them to continue the dialogue. I’m hoping it guides them seamlessly into the classroom, and allows them to envision their roles as educators in the grand scheme.
 
What do you think is the biggest challenge facing teachers today?
I think the lack of a culture of reading in this country is making teachers’ jobs considerably harder. Teachers can’t pick up all the slack if parents aren’t already taking a lead in their kids’ reading habits at home. So many schools have lost their libraries and librarians—the presence of books is getting scarcer. And there are untold negative effects of a kid growing up as a nonreader. They lack the basic skills and confidence to face all subjects.
 
I’d imagine, though, that when a teacher knows they’ve turned a kid into a reader, and sees a face light up thanks to excitement about a book or a character, it dissolves all the hurdles and the impossibles. Ask one.
 
Interestingly, the Beck kids in Treasure Hunters were homeschooled by their parents. What's your opinion on homeschooling?
In their case, it made total sense—when you’ve got to lead a family in epic treasure hunt adventures around the globe, you’re going to have to read books and teach algebra on deck. Maximum Ride had to homeschool her flock, too. It certainly gives an interesting perspective on childhood, I think.
 
If I were to start my son Jack in school again, and try the homeschool route, I think I would last a day trying to teach the guy. I’d spend the time furiously looking up the answers to all his questions. But hey, if you’re brave enough…
 
If you could give one piece of advice to a teacher who is just starting out, what would it be?
Take a moment to seriously answer one question. Is teaching what you absolutely love more than anything else? If the answer’s yes, jump in with your whole heart. If it’s no, you might want to reconsider such a valiant role. Because it’s going to become your whole life.
 

At the risk of jinxing it, Kate DiCamillo is on a lucky streak. After being named as the National Ambassador for Young People's Literature (2014-2015), Camillo snagged her second Newbery Medal, for her hilarious and heartwarming middle grade novel, Flora & Ulysses. It's the story of a cynical 10-year-old girl who learns a thing or two when she befriends a super-strong, poetry-writing squirrel—who flies. Our reviewer loved it: "Like all of DiCamillo’s books, Flora & Ulysses is filled with adventure, but also plenty of humor and soul." We asked DiCamillo a few questions after she heard the news.

What was the first thing that went through your head when you found out you had won the Newbery?

I couldn’t form a coherent thought, truly. All I could do was cry.

Who was the one person you couldn’t wait to tell about the award?

I am lucky in that I have so many people that I couldn’t wait to tell. I’ve got a close group of friends who are like my family. I couldn’t wait to tell them. I couldn’t wait to talk to my agent, my editor, my publisher and all the people I work with at Candlewick. I couldn’t wait to tell my brother, and my writing teacher, Jane Resh Thomas.

Do you have a favorite past Newbery winner?

Oh, I love so many of them for so many different reasons. But off the top of my 8-year-old head? Island of the Blue Dolphins, by Scott O’Dell.

What’s the best part of writing books for a younger audience?

That I get to write possibilities, instead of impossibilities. 

What kind of reaction have you gotten from your readers about this book?

I’ve just started to get letters from kids about the book. Each letter thrills me. One 10-year-old girl says that she and her father always say goodbye to each other with, “I promise to always turn back toward you.”

Have you read or listened to past Newbery acceptance speeches? Are you excited (or worried!) about your own speech?

I am, of course, worried. But excited, too, because it will give me a chance to try and express my deep gratitude, my joy.

What’s next for you?

Um, let’s see. I’m working on a novel. And I’m launching a series of books about some of the secondary characters from the Mercy Watson stories. The first one of those comes out this fall. It is called Leroy Ninker Saddles Up.