James Preller's Blog

 

 

 

 

 

Did you know I often include a baseball card with my letters to young readers? Yeah, I do. This guy, Jack, got a 1969 Topps Bobby Tolan because he played for the Cincinnati Reds. The Ohio connection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I replied:

Dear Jack,

Thanks for your terrific, well-written letter. I loved that you included colorful illustrations -– lucky me!

I’m glad to hear that reading my books is one of your hobbies. What other hobbies do you have? Wait, don’t tell me. Let me guess. Hmmmm. You like to carve wooden ducks in the basement? You collect and stack old marshmallows? You taught yourself how to speak Wookie? You build bridges made entirely of burnt pumpernickel toast?

No? Rats!

Reading books –- any books, even mine -– is a hobby that you and I share. Everybody knows that reading will make you smarter, but I think it also makes you happier. So I’m very glad to learn that you are enjoying books, too. Keep it up!

When I meet people who say they don’t like to read, I always think, Oh, boy, you are really missing out.

Yes, your teacher is right, Jigsaw does say “Yeesh” a lot. Though I think he’s saying it less and less these days. I’m not sure if he says it even once in the latest, The Case from Outer Space. The dot, dot, dot thing is called an ellipsis. It’s interesting that you noticed I do that. Now I’m worried that I might do it too much!

An ellipsis is usually an omission, words left out, but I mostly use it in the Jigsaw Jones series to indicate a pause. For example, Mila might say to Eddie Becker, “You like to eat . . . lizards?” To me, it tells the reader to give a little pause there, a little air, a little space, before going on to the next word.

That’s me, I’m always trying to help the reader out.

I found another one on page 53 from The Case from Outer Space. I’ll include the setup:

“Good,” I replied. “Are you sure she didn’t see you?”

Joey paused. His mouth said “No,” but his head nodded yes.

He had me confused.

I repeated the question as if I were talking to my dog. “Did . . . she . . . see . . . you?”

Joey shrugged. His nose twitched. “Maybe, sort of.”

“Maybe,” I echoed.

“Well, she waved to me,” Joey admitted. 

My best to you, kind Jack!

James Preller