James Preller’s Blog

Music Video Weekend: St. Patrick’s Day Edition, “The Raggle Taggle Gypsy”

“What care I for my money-o?”

Must be the weather. I’m feeling St. Paddy’s Day a wee bit early this afternoon, so started listening hardcore to Irish tunes. And me being me, I just had to share one of my favorites. But hold on a second while I wet my whistle.

Ah better. You have to love Ireland’s Mike Scott and The Waterboys, it’s a requirement here at jamespreller.com, and a staple from my late-80’s period. For me, the must-have disk has always been “Fisherman’s Blues.” Here they do a lively version of one of the great traditional Irish tunes, “The Raggle Taggle Gypsy,” full of wild idealism and that particular strain of (fading?) Irish anti-materialism. “Gypsy” can be found on “Roam to Room,” perhaps their disk most influenced by the traditional music (and gypsy spirit) of old Ireland.

There were three old gypsies came to our hall door
they came brave and boldly-o
And one sang high and the other sang low
and the other sang a raggle taggle gypsy-o

It was upstairs downstairs the lady went
put on her suit of leather-o
And there was a cry from around the door
she’s away wi’ the raggle taggle gypsy-o

It was late that night when the Lord came in
inquiring for his lady-o
And the servant girl she said to the Lord
“She’s away wi’ the raggle taggle gypsy-o”

“Then saddle for me my milk white steed
- my big horse is not speedy-o
And I will ride till I seek my bride
she’s away wi’ the raggle taggle gypsy-o”

Now he rode East and he rode West
he rode North and South also
Until he came to a wide open plain
it was there that he spied his lady-o

“How could you leave your goose feather bed
your blankeys strewn so comely-o?
And how could you leave your newly wedded Lord
all for a raggle taggle gypsy-o?”

“What care I for my goose feather bed
wi’ blankets strewn so comely-o?
Tonight I lie in a wide open field
in the arms of a raggle taggle gypsy-o.”

“How could you leave your house and your land?
how could you leave your money-o?
How could you leave your only wedded Lord
all for a raggle taggle gypsy-o?”

“What care I for my house and my land?
what care I for my money-o?
I’d rather have a kiss from the yellow gypsy’s lips
I’m away wi’ the raggle taggle gypsy-o!”

I discovered this version by Eliza Carthy, playing alongside her parents, folk musicians Martin Carthy and Norma Waterson. She gives it a completely different feel and arrangement — utterly gorgeous — and I realize that I’ve got some catching up to do:

Here’s a band I don’t know anything about, named Mad Dog McRea, but these guys give a spirited, ale-spilled, “Wish I was there hoisting me glass” performance:

And finally, there’s Planxty, an Irish “super group” including Christy Moore, Andy Irvine, Liam O’Flynn, and Donal Lunny. Here they give the song a go with stirring results, taken from their 1973 eponymous debut. Sorry, audio only:

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Bring Change 2 Mind: “Words Have Power Over Us.”

I was impressed and pleased to find this full-page advertisement, featuring actress Glenn Close, that addressed the stigma of mental illness:

Here’s the body copy of the advertisement:

Glenn Close’s sister Jessie and Jessie’s son Calen have a disease. And even though their story is their own, it’s far from unusual. The fact is, one in six adults has a mental illness. The harder reality is that the ignorance that fuels the stigma associated with mental illness can often be the most painful part of managing the disease.

Glenn and her family chose to be national voices for the first campaign dedicated to fighting the stigma that accompanies mental illness. Because having a disease is difficult enough. Being blamed, or ostracized for having it, well that’s just crazy.

Readers of Bystander may suspect that I have some personal experience with schizophrenia. And it’s true: my brother John suffered from schizophrenia. I touched upon  John’s experiences in a fictionalized way in that book, and also blogged about it more directly here.

Clicking around cyberspace, I found this insightful, deeply-felt piece written by Glenn Close for O, The Oprah Magazine, titled “Glenn Close’s Aha Moment.” It begins:

As an actress, I have always loved words. I believe in their power. But certain words have power over us — until we destigmatize them and learn to speak them out loud, without fear or shame.

By the way, since I was mildly critical of J.K. Rowling last week, let’s recognize how brilliant and accurate she was to make the characters in the Harry Potter books fear the word “Voldemort.” They were afraid to say it out loud. And to that extent, he held dominion over them, for he had stolen a piece of their language. Ms. Close continues:

My aha moment hit me several years ago, when I realized that three deeply frightening words had power over me: schizophrenia, depression, and bipolar. There is mental illness in my family. And I knew that if I really wanted to help, I would have to learn to say those words fearlessly, out loud. That’s the beginning . . .

<snip>

And my aha moment is beginning to have repercussions. A group of us, along with Fountain House, are launching a campaign called Bring Change 2 Mind. In June we went to Washington and presented our idea to the major mental health organizations. With their enthusiastic blessing and support, we shot our first public service announcement— in Grand Central Station — directed by Ron Howard. Jessie and I and our children are in it. And John Mayer gave us use of his exquisite song “Say.” Bringchange2mind.org has links to all the major mental health groups. It will connect people to whatever they need: help, community, education, or a chance to join one of the organizations.

It is just the beginning, but I hope it will give people the courage to talk about mental illness, to lose their fear of the words, to conquer shame and stigma. Jessie and I felt a huge sense of relief when we decided to speak out. There is nothing to hide. Schizophrenia. Bipolar disorder. Depression. I have no fear. We are all connected, and none of us should ever feel marginalized, stigmatized, and alone. — As told to Johanna Schneller

I congratulate Ms. Close on the courage of her convictions, and the bright shining power of her insight. This is good work; I believe she’s right. We need to talk about this stuff, not hide from it, because there is a power in words — a power to do harm, and a power to make positive change.

“Change a mind about mental illness, and you can change a life.”

Here’s the PSA as directed by Ron Howard:

“Bystander” Review

Mary Ann Gallagher writes of Bystander:

This fast-paced read is an eye-opener for children in the often-confusing world of middle school.

For the full review, click here.

To discuss books with Mary Ann, who owns a bookstore in Canada, you may visit her by leaping headfirst through this magical rabbit hole . . . jump here!

Fan Mail Wednesday #81 (Thursday Edition)

Woo-hoo, it’s Fan Mail Wednesday! Wait, no. Today is Thursday. It can’t be Fan Mail Wednesday. Can it? That’s impossible. No recurring feature on an author’s blog could possibly be so powerful that it transcends the laws of time and space!

But oh, yes, faithful readers. Witness the power and majesty of Fan Mail Wednesday. It doesn’t care what day it is . . .

Dear Mr. Preller,

My name is Gizela. I like your Jigsaw Jones Mystery books. They are so awesome. I always want to solve the mystery before I read it. But it is so hard for me. Most of the mysteries are so interesting.

I just like it when the mystery is solved. Why do you write these books? What made you write these books? When did you first write your own book?

Why did you make these characters? Where did you get all these ideas? Why did you put a dog in these books? Why did you name the books Jigsaw Jones?

I like your Jigsaw Jones Mystery books because it has a problem and they solve it. I like the dog too. I like your books because they have funny mysteries. I hope to hear from you!

Sincerely,
Gizela

I replied:

Gizela,

Boy, I love your name. It’s a name I want to sing, not say. So much more melodious than, oh, Frank or Bert or even Prunella. Gizela, Gizela . . . GIZELA!

I love books. I love reading. Now maybe as a young kid, that wasn’t so much the case. I read, but I don’t remember totally loving it. I loved physical things like baseball and wrestling and eating cinnamon Pop-Tarts. But I was lucky. I had four older brothers, two older sisters, and most of them read books. It seems like such a minor detail, but I think it’s important: I SAW them reading! It looked like a reasonable activity, something a boy might do and enjoy. In fact, my brothers often pressed books into my hands, telling me I’d love them.

But the next question is . . . how did I cross over from reader to writer? It seems like a wild leap across a great distance. I guess it felt natural. I liked to draw. I filled notebooks with dice games and baseball statistics. That is: I happily spent time alone with a pencil or crayon in my hand. Writing became a natural extension of that physical activity. There’s only so much you can do when you’re alone with a piece of paper and a pencil.

How can I explain this? I love music. It’s a big part of my day, every day. Yet I can’t play an instrument. I never had a lesson. I’m in awe of people who can do it. Growing up, I came to understand — wrongly, of course — that OTHER, MORE TALENTED PEOPLE did that stuff. That was the message I got: Leave the music to the professionals. Step away from the tuba. But for some reason, when it came to books, I thought to myself, I can do that.

That’s an important sentence right there, Gizela, so let’s say it again:

I

CAN

DO

THAT!

And because I believed it, so it was true. If I could wish anything for you — or for my children, or my friends — it’s that they can feel the same way about things they care about. I want you to look at a beautiful painting, or the achievements of an athlete, a dancer, a doctor, whatever, and say to yourself, “I can do that.”

Because I really believe you can.

JP

P.S. Oh, yes, the dog. As a kid, I never had one. No dog. I lived for years in a sorry state of doglessness. As an adult, dogs came into my life and I’ve (mostly) enjoyed sharing my house with them. When I make up stories, I sometimes give characters little gifts. Jigsaw has an awesome tree house — another thing I never had as a kid. How I wanted one! Because I like Jigsaw, I gave him the tree house I never had. I also gave him . . . a dog. It felt right.

This is our family dog, Daisy. She drives!

Asking “What If” Questions & Pulling on Threads: A Short Sample from “Justin Fisher Declares War!”

I’ve always loved the writing process, how a jumbled ball of yarn becomes an actual sweater. Conversely, it’s amazing to me — pulling on that thread and watching how the fabric unravels.

Back in September, 2008, I wrote this on my blog:

I have an idea for a character who gets into trouble at school. The book is about this kid, and, in part, the surprising relationship he builds with the school principal. But how and why does this boy get into trouble? What does he do? What kind of hilarious escapades can I conjure? Then one notion hit me over the weekend: He smuggles a goldfish into school!

I love that idea. I can WORK with that idea. That is: There are possibilities that appeal to my sensibilities. So then begins the series of questions: How does he do it? Why? What goes wrong (because something must go wrong)? I’ve already daydreamed over a host of options — involving a thermos, soup broth, and a swallowed goldfish — but I know I’m not there yet.

Below, please find a brief scene from my upcoming middle-grade book, Justin Fisher Declares War! (Scholastic, August 2010). The scene represents the realization of those bloggy wonderings. Yesterday I read this passage aloud to a group of foruth-graders. We’d been talking about the importance of asking “what if” questions. In this case, what if a boy wanted to smuggle a goldfish into school. How might he do it? The answer to that question is the scene you write.

If writing fiction is anything, it is asking “what if” questions, following the logic and playing with those possibilities — thinking it through. After all, “what if” questions are at the core of what’s now called “Speculative Fiction” and, I hasten to ask, what brand of fiction is not speculative? We’re all daydreamers here.

Here’s the scene:

Justin understood that he’d never get past the front door carrying his sister’s goldfish bowl. She’d freak out and wail like a siren, and his mother would end up yelling. No, Justin needed to come up with a foolproof plan. And after a few minutes of heavy-duty thinking, he did.

The next morning, he asked his mother for tomato soup for lunch.

“You never eat it when I give it to you,” she said.

“This is different,” Justin assured her. “I really need soup today, Mom. It’s like . . . Soup Day in school and . . . all the kids are bringing in different kinds of soups and –“

“Soup Day?” His mother raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a guy thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Okay, okay.” His mother relented. She opened the cupboard, shifted a few cans around, and said, “Sorry, we’re all out of tomato. How about chicken noodle?”

“Perfect,” Justin clucked.

Operation Goldfish was in effect.

At the next opportunity, Justin snuck into the bathroom, dumped out the soup, and rinsed the thermos clean. Then, on tip-toe, he entered the forbidden zone — his sister’s room. The room itself was hideous, a monstrosity of purple and pink, with Disney posters and stuffed animals. Justin couldn’t imagine how his sister managed to sleep in there.

Justin paused by the door, listening. Lily was downstairs, eating Pop-Tarts. Justin poured water from the goldfish bowl into the thermos, spilling only a small puddle on the rug. With a net, he fished out the goldfish and dropped it into the thermos.

What about air? Justin wondered, as he screwed the cap on. I can’t suffocate my sister’s fish.

He thought about trying to find a hammer and nail. Maybe he could drive small holes into the screw top.

“Justin? What are you doing up there?” his mother called. “You better get moving if you want to make it to school on time!”

“Coming!” Justin hollered. He placed the thermos back into his lunch box, stuffed that into his backpack, and hustled down the stairs. He figured he’d open and close the cap every hour or so, just to make sure the goldfish got enough air. He might have been a little mischievous, but he wasn’t a cold-blooded fish murderer.

I’ve called this “my rebound book,” since it comes after the more serious, precise Bystander. This one is loose, light, short, funny. Rereading my early notes from the blog, I realize that I changed Justin’s relationship from the principal to his classroom teacher, Mr. Tripp. That struck me as more immediate, more natural, and allowed me to make his teacher more sympathetic. Originally, I conceived of the teacher as sort of a one-dimensional uptight obstacle, but it got much more interesting when he became a well-rounded person — a first-year teacher, nervous and well-intentioned, who makes some mistakes in handling an attention-seeking student.

Aside: I think the single worst character in the Harry Potter series — the character I consider a major failure — is the one-dimensional Dolores Umbridge, appointed High Inquisitor of Hogwarts in the fifth book, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Lacking all shade and substance, she ruined much of the book for me.

I hated her, but not in the way J.K. Rowling wanted me to hate her.

“Six Innings” in Paperback, Only $6.99, Cheap! *

“The novel goes beyond fastballs and first base to the heart of the game—the players—in a way even non-sports fans will love.”— USA Today.

Six Innings went into paperback last week. So now all you tightwads you can pick up a copy at consumer-friendly prices! The book includes a special Q & A with the author (me!), a sample chapter from Bystander, and advertisements!

Here’s two questions from the Q & A as a FREE BONUS SAMPLE for my bloggy friends:

What was your best subject in school?

P.E. and recess.

Where do you find inspiration for your writing?

Since I usually write realistic fiction, I try to begin with an accurate understanding of a child’s world, often by sitting in on various classrooms in my community. I have three children, ages 9, 10, and 16, so that helps me stay connected. I don’t think you can examine something like “childhood” under a microscope, like a lab technician in a cold, white room. For a writer you’ve got to feel it, and for whatever reason, I still remember.

Actually, um, I changed my mind. That wasn’t free. What am I crazy, giving this stuff away? In today’s economy? Think again. You owe me, oh, $2.95, which I’ll accept in cash, check, money order, credit card, PayPal, or shards of pretty glass.

I mean to say . . .

The surprisingly decent folks over at the Mac Kids Blog are featuring the book on something called the interwebs! They did a nice job.

GO THERE NOW TO JOIN THE NONSTOP CELEBRATION!

Sob, it’s times like these when I wish my mother could turn on a computer.

Seriously, we’re done here.

Get moving.

* $6.99, that is, unless you’re in Canada, where it’s $8.50.  Hey, I saw that Olympic hockey game. You didn’t realize payback would come so soon, so hard, did you?

Music Video Weekend: Remembering Belushi, “With a Little Help from My Friends.”

Since I was remembering the inspired genius of John Belushi just the other day, I figured I’d keep the good times rolling by sharing this classic comedy bit from SNL. Here’s Belushi’s hilarious take on  Joe Cocker, doing his/their version of “With a Little Help from My Friends.”

I can still picture seeing this for the first time. Back when you had to stay up late to watch it, because you dared not miss anything. No Tivo, no Youtube, no nothing. We were eating dirt back in those days — and we liked it!

“Bystander” on the Blogs

My friend, author Kurtis Scaletta, said it well in a recent interview. Regarding reviews, he explained, “I mostly just want people to know I exist, I think.”

And because he thinks, he does exist, or so I’ve gathered. Cogito ergo sum. I think, therefore I read.

Oh, nevermind.

Isn’t this picture funny??!!

The point is — and there’s always a point here at jamespreller.com, people, sometimes you just have to look under the cushions — Kurtis expressed something felt by most of us scraggly author-types.

You write the book, you wait, you hope, and sometimes the indifferent world doesn’t even bother to shrug its shoulders. For all the “buzz” and “hype” that some books generate — and often deservedly so — there are many others that slip by seemingly unnoticed, then unceremoniously pulled from the shelves after three creepy months. That’s why I appreciate anyone who takes the time and effort not only to read my book, but to respond in some way. Truly, truly, it’s the greatest gift you can give to a writer. Your attention, your valuable time. Thank you, guys, very much.

On Thursday morning, thanks to the wonders of Google Alerts (if you don’t use it, you should), I found three new reviews for Bystander.

* In a detailed, thoughtful review for the “Book Look” section of the Lincoln Daily News, Louella Moreland writes: “I must give Mr. Preller a gold star for taking on this topic as well as he did. The story is interesting, which may make the lesson a little easier to swallow. It would make a great book for class or family discussions.”

* Here’s a cool new blog, titled Future Librarian, Kids! He’s just up and running, and I remember those early months of trying to figure it out, so hop on over and say hello. He’s posted some well-written reviews and also took the time to remember School House Rocks — and  you’ve got to love that in a blogger. In a review that was obviously written with great care, the unnamed “future librarian” writes: “The theme of keeping silent over speaking up runs deep throughout the book . . . Needless to say, I read Bystander fairly quickly and really enjoyed it. It captures the feeling of middle school quite well and I really felt compassion and understanding for all the characters.”

* I nominate Kiss the Book for having the best logo image. This is an impressive, long-standing site — they first hung out their shingle way back in the waaaay back, circa 2003! Were computers even invented back then? Were they banging out reviews on stone tablets? The reviews are written by, ahem, “school library professionals and vetted student reviewers.” Each review includes ratings for language, sexual content, and violence, like so: “Bystander, 223 pgs. Feiwel and Friends, 2009. Language - PG (7 swears, 0 “f”), Sexual Content - G; Violence - G.” Check it out!

World Maths Day: “Beat ‘em!”

“A day late and a dollar short!” That’s my motto around here; it should become the subhead for my blog.

Because yesterday was World Maths Day. Yes, yesterday. But why stop now? Let the mental gymnastics continue! Besides, my two youngest children, Gavin (10) and Maggie (9), are addicted. All they want to do is practice math, though, of course, that’s the sneaky part — they don’t view it as practice.

Ever since their teachers signed them up in anticipation of World Maths Day, they can’t get enough of it. It’s pretty simple. They were registered through the school, a membership that allowed them to play in one-minute math competitions against other children from around the world. Like most good ideas, it’s simple and so easy to use.

For days now, Gavin has been at the computer exclaiming to anyone in earshot, “I’m playing Cameroon! I’m playing Brazil! I’m playing Japan!” The idea thrills him.

Maggie was just signed up yesterday, after days of watching her brother have all the fun. This morning, an excited Maggie cried from the television room, “MOM, I’M PLAYING AUSTRALIA!”

I had to laugh when Lisa yelled back, “BEAT ‘EM!”

You can go here for more information. From what I understand, it’s not too late to enjoy  the fun. More than 2 million students from 37,000 schools in 200 countries are registered. So far, there have been more than 500,000,000 correct answers. Thanks in no small part to the obsessive efforts of Gavin and Maggie!

The Great Comedy Albums of My Youth: “March Comes In Like A Lion . . . and Out Like a Salt Marsh Harvest Mouse”

“Now look, pal! I know a country where March comes in like an emu and goes out like a tapir. And they don’t even know what it means!” — John Belushi

Do you remember listening to comedy albums? I sure do. In the 60’s, I inherited some classic Bill Cosby disks from my folks, plus the great Allan Sherman. I wore the grooves off his debut record (below), which featured tracks such as “The Ballad of Harry Lewis,” “Shake Hands with Your Uncle Max,” “My Zelda,” and “The Streets of Miami.”

According to the usually reliable Wikipedia, Sherman’s 1962 disk, “My Son, the Folksinger,” became the fastest-selling album up to that time. Think about that for a minute. Imagine everyone on the show “Mad Men” running around quoting Allan Sherman. Soon after, I guess, the Beatles showed up and changed everything.

The Cosby album that I loved was “I Started Out as a Child,” and again, I listened to it over and over again. Those routines are burned into my skull: “The Giant,” “Sneakers,” “Oops!,” “The Lone Ranger,” and “Ralph Jameson.”

As I got older, I remember when Pat Sweeney and I discovered his older brother’s album, “Big Bambu” by Cheech & Chong, which came out in 1971 (”Sister Mary Elephant,” “Ralphie and Herbie”). Oh my, oh my. The original album, as I recall, came packaged with rolling papers! We didn’t even know what they were for . . . yet. Comedy was taking on a new edge, an outsider status — and we loved that subversive quality. Just listening to it felt like a small criminal act. For that reason, we loved George Carlin, who raised the stakes considerably. In 1972, he came out with “Class Clown,” featuring “I Used to Be an Irish Catholic” and, most famously, “The Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television.”

Again, it’s hard to describe the naughty thrill we felt as boys huddled around the turntable. We lapped it up and laughed and laughed, and somehow that counter-cultural strain seeped into our consciousness and shaped the way we looked at the world. Looking back now, I realize that I was at the exact right age for that moment in America, a tween when all the hypocrisy was hilariously exposed.

In 1976, when I was fifteen, I got a new album for Christmas (it was on my list, taped to our refrigerator), featuring The Not-Ready-For-Prime-Time Players. We had moved past Watergate and Vietnam, the 60’s were morphing into the Carter era and Disco was beginning to thump from speakers — as the Sex Pistols began gearing up against the bloated rock excesses of bands like Pink Floyd — and somehow this troupe of Saturday Night Live regulars had its collective finger on the pulse of America.

The stars are now legendary: John Belushi, Garrett Morris, Gilda Radner, Jane Curtin, Dan Aykroyd, Loraine Newman, and Chevy Chase — with a memorable guest appearance from Richard Pryor (”Word Association”).

The one skit that inspired me to write this today came from John Belushi, as a high-strung weatherman. Here he plays with the notion of March coming in like a lion and out like a lamb. (See full transcript below.) You can also click here to listen to a 30-second snippet of that routine, plus many other classics (”Emily Litella,” “News for the Hard of Hearing,” “Uvula,” “Dueling Brandos,” “Jimmy Carter,” and more). I loved that album, just as I loved the excitement of staying up late to watch the weekly show.

It may be an overstatement to say that comedy was dangerous, but it was definitely no longer my dad’s old Allan Sherman albums. Times had changed and it was reflected in what made us laugh.

Here’s the skit:

Chevy Chase:
Last week we made the comment that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Now here to reply is our chief meteorologist, John Belushi, with a seasonal report.

John Belushi:
Thank you Chevy. Well, another winter is almost over and March true to form has come in like a lion, and hopefully will go out like a lamb. At least that’s how March works here in the United States.

But did you know that March behaves differently in other countries? In Norway, for example, March comes in like a polar bear and goes out like a walrus. Or, take the case of Honduras where March comes in like a lamb and goes out like a salt marsh harvest mouse.

Let’s compare this to the Maldive Islands where March comes in like a wildebeest and goes out like an ant. A tiny, little ant about this big.

(holds thumb and index fingers a small distance apart)

Unlike the Malay Peninsula where March comes in like a worm-eating fernbird and goes out like a worm-eating fernbird. In fact, their whole year is like a worm-eating fernbird.

Or consider the Republic of South Africa where March comes in like a lion and goes out like a different lion. Like one has a mane, and one doesn’t have a mane. Or in certain parts of South America where March swims in like a sea otter, and then it slithers out like a giant anaconda.

There you can buy land real cheap, you know. And there’s a country where March hops in like a kangaroo, and stays a kangaroo for a while, and then it becomes a slightly smaller kangaroo. Then, then, then for a couple of days it’s sort of a cross between a, a frilled lizard and a common house cat.

(Chevy Chase tries to interrupt him)

Wait wait wait wait. Then it changes back into a smaller kangaroo, and then it goes out like a, like a wild dingo. Now, now, and it’s not Australia! Now, now, you’d think it would be Australia, but it’s not!

(Chevy Chase tries to interrupt him)

Now look, pal! I know a country where March comes in like an emu and goes out like a tapir. And they don’t even know what it means! All right? Now listen, there are nine different countries, where March comes in like a frog, and goes out like a golden retriever. But that- that’s not the weird part! No, no, the weird part is, is the frog. The frog- The weird part is-

(has seizure and falls off chair)

—

As a final comment, and coming full circle, I have to confess to lifting some of those ideas for a brief scene in Jigsaw Jones Super Special #1: The Case of the Buried Treasure (maybe my favorite out of all the Jigsaw books, and amazingly still in print). I don’t think I consciously made that connection to Belushi and SNL, but in hindsight I can see that my roots were showing.

Setup: Jigsaw and Mila are at the bus stop, talking with Joey Pignattano. Note to teachers: the book focuses a bit on similes — it’s a minor theme running through the story — and you may find that instructive/helpful.

“I was wondering,” Joey Pignattano said to me. “What kind of animal do you think January would be?”

“What?!” I replied.

“I mean, if January were an animal, what kind of animal would it be?” Joey pondered.

“Do you understand what he’s talking about, Mila?” I asked. “Because I sure don’t.”

Mila smiled. At least I think she smiled. There was a big, fluffly scarf wrapped around her head like a hungry boa constrictor. “Maybe Joey is trying to think of a simile,” she offered.

Joey nodded gratefully. “You know how they say March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb? Well, I’m thinking that January would be an aardvark.”

I sighed. “Let me get this straight. March comes in like a lion. So you think January comes in like . . . an aardvark?”

“Yes,” Joey answered. “Or do you think maybe it’s more like an American bald eagle?”

“A woolly mammoth,” Mila stated.

I turned to her in surprise. “Nuh-uh,” I retorted. “January is definitely a skunk. This weather stinks.”