Tag Archive for Mighty Casey

Reviews for Mighty Casey

March 2, 2009 / / One comment

I’ve got a plane to catch today, hoping to meet up with Bill and Karen at Literate Lives for a two-day school visit. I’m really looking forward to it. When my kids were younger, I really didn’t want to leave the area. But now that they’ve more or less stabilized, I hope to make longer trips, conquer new frontiers. For those interested in author visits, the key for me is that I need at least 2-3-4 days of work to make traveling worthwhile and affordable for all concerned; I can’t go to Texas for a day.

As for today, it’s snowing lightly, but steadily, and the travel plans  are up in the air. Or exactly the opposite — not up in the air. Fingers and toes are crossed.

In the meantime, Matthew Cordell and I just received two nice reviews for our new picture book, Mighty Casey (Feiwel and Friends, March,  2009). Here’s a tasty excerpt from Publishers Weekly:

Set against ample white space, Cordell’s endearingly geeky kids take center stage (mid-game distractions include tree-climbing, a bee sting and a bathroom break on the left field fence). It’s hard to envision a reader who won’t take to these underdogs. Ages 4–8.

And here’s a yummy excerpt from an upcoming School Library Journal review:

When the score is tied, and bases are loaded, Casey comes up to bat. Does this sound familiar? The ink and watercolor drawings vary in size and are full of energy and movement as the players engage in different activities. The faces are expressive and fun to look at. This is a great baseball book for all those T-ball and Little League players out there.

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Category: Mighty Casey, School Visits / Tags: , , , , ,

Writing Mighty Casey

January 15, 2009 / / 3 comments

Everybody is familiar with the classic poem by Ernest Lawrence Thayer, “Casey at the Bat,” first published in 1888 in the San Francisco Examiner. That’s 120 years ago. According to Wikipedia, Thayer was “so embarrassed by what he considered to be a doggeral that he kept his identity secret for years.” It was originally published under a pen name.

As a reminder, the poem begins:

“The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, “If only Casey could but get a whack at that–
We’d put up even money now, with Casey at the bat.”

The poem has certainly endured. Each spring, like mushrooms after a rain, new picture book versions of Thayer’s classic poem seem to arrive in our libraries, each more fabulously illustrated than the next. And no offense to these talented illustrators, but Casey grows increasingly steroidal. For example:

Yet as much as I liked the original poem, it never seemed to hold a lot of kid appeal. So the idea struck me that I could do my own version of the poem, keeping the baseball flavor and dramatic setup, but transposing it to a Little League field at the youngest, most inept, most playful level.

Thus, Mighty Casey (Feiwel & Friends, March, 2009), a decidedly different take.

I got the idea for this translocation directly from my years of Little League coaching. I’ve spent a lot of time with those kids. Here’s a recent snap from last September. That’s my Maggie, at age seven. Maggie’s state of readiness is impressive, particularly when compared to her teammate in centerfield.

I wrestled with the text for several months, going down various dead ends. In fact, the poem was saved when my editor, Liz Szabla, performed an intervention. Really, some of those early drafts were awful; a textbook case of a book being salvaged by a few, select, insightful comments from an editor. Fortunately, all anyone reads is the final result. In the end, my re-imagined version retained Thayer’s basic rhyme scheme, but broke the long lines in half. It begins:

“The outlook wasn’t brilliant

for the Delmar Dogs that day.

All summer long, the Dogs

lost every game they played.


Yes, it’s true, the Dogs had guts,

and the Dogs had heart;

but catching the baseball, well,

that was the hardest part.”

Once approved by Jean and Liz at Feiwel & Friends, it was time for the artwork. The name they came up with was a new one to me, some fellow named Matthew Cordell. I looked him up and immediately liked his style. I saw that his illustrative approach was light and accessible. I thought that he could really bring out the humor in the piece. But I was wrong about that. Matthew made it funnier, better. I’ve been lucky. While Matthew’s artwork may not be the most technically rendered, he has a feeling for children’s books, a warmth, and his work connects with young readers. Whatever it is, that special quality, Matthew has it. Here’s one sample of his artwork from the book:

Ashanti fell fast asleep;

Tommy Maney climbed a tree.

And, okay, twist my arm, here’s another few lines from the book:

Bloopers, flubs, drops, and blunders —

the Dogs could do nothing right.

Still Casey declared, “We won’t

surrender without a fight!”

–

When Jinn Lee clubbed a homer,

the fans stood and cheered.

The Dogs scored at last.

Said Lee, “That’s, like, sooo weird.”

Don’t you love that rhyme, cheered and weird? Thank you, thank you very much. Anyway, it’s freezing outside. Eight degrees, last I looked. But pitchers and Molinas report to Spring Training in less than a month. Breathe deep. Can’t you feel it? Baseball is around the corner. And Mighty Casey is due to arrive in bookstores March 3rd. Play ball. We’re swinging for the fences!

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Category: Mighty Casey, the writing process / Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Around the Horn: The “Me, Me, Me!” Edition

November 21, 2008 / / 2 comments

Weird confluence of things in a 24-hour period, with five books colliding. Let’s recap:

* In the mail yesterday, the first hot-off-the-presses copy of Mighty Casey!

I love this book, it’s beautifully published, and I’m so happy that it brought Matthew Cordell into my world. That said, it’s always oddly deflating to receive the finished book. It’s over, done, finished. After all that build-up, years in the making. It’s like that Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller song from the tailend of the Brill Building era: “Is That All There Is?” If you don’t know this 1968 tune, here’s how it opens, as spoken and sung by Peggy Lee:

I remember when I was a very little girl, our house caught on fire.
I’ll never forget the look on my father’s face as he gathered me up
in his arms and raced through the burning building out to the pavement. I stood there shivering in my pajamas and watched the whole world go up in flames. And when it was all over I said to myself, “Is that all there is to a fire?”

* In the mail today, the first-pass galleys to Bystander (Fall, ’09), my “bully book” set in a middle school. To me, this is more exciting, because we’re in the thick of it. Here’s my first chance to see this book set in type. I’ll see the typeface, the way they handled chapter openings, the leading, margin width, the feel and heft of the whole thing. I’ll find out how it pages out, the length. And I’ll read it through again, pen in hand, for the 50th time (approximation). This pass represents my last chance to make corrections before it goes to bound galleys, otherwise known as “uncorrected” review copies. Even so, there will be more opportunities to overthink the whole thing.

* I got word last night from Shannon Penney that Along Came Spider was reviewed by Booklist (see below). For some reason, this book has been deadly quiet, met with a collective yawn. Not reviewed at all in PW, SLJ, Horn Book, any of the traditional venues. So I’m grateful to John Peters at Booklist for reading it, and for the review:

The lifelong friendship between two fifth graders—one with a mild spectrum disorder—hits the rocks but emerges intact in this perceptive tale from the author of Six Innings (2008). Feeling conflicted but wanting to fit in better with his classmates at Spiro T. Agnew Elementary, Robert (nicknamed Spider) uncomfortably tries to put some distance between himself and his buddy Trey, whose obsessions, lack of sensitivity to social cues, and general clumsiness have resulted in a reputation for being “out there.” Acting on Spider’s suggestion that he make other friends, Trey beats the odds and finds two: the school’s young librarian and a genial new classmate named Ava. Spider also makes another friend, and by the end discovers that there’s still room in his life for Trey. By regularly switching points of view, Preller gives readers a chance to see the situation from each boy’s angle and to consider the central insight that differences aren’t always as important as they seem.

* I posted yesterday about Jigsaw Jones: The Case of the Secret Skeleton. Scholastic is in the process of making the cover. And since I’m working with a new editor on this one, I need to check in and make sure I’ll get another chance to make corrections in galleys. Because — get this — it’s not perfect.

* Amidst all this background noise, I’m supposed to be writing a new book. I’m in the early stages of Joker (a working title I’m not loving), which mostly means jotting down notes, reading things, daydreaming, hoping to sort out in my mind some kind of shape and scope of this thing before jumping in with both feet. I want it to be funny, and that’s so much easier to describe than actually pull off. I don’t have the voice yet. Now I just kind of write and think, “This so blows.” I guess you could say we’re in the Self-Loathing Stage. Always fun.

Okay, here’s the immortal Peggy Lee:

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Category: Along Came Spider, Bystander, Mighty Casey / Tags: , , , , , , ,

James Preller Interviews . . . Matthew Cordell

October 15, 2008 / / 3 comments

In the past, I’ve had the opportunity to interview many children’s book authors and illustrators. In the clumsily named The Big Book of Picture-Book Authors & Illustrators (the title was soooo not my idea), there are profiles of 75 different, urm, authors and illustrators, including Barbara Cooney, Donald Crews, Mem Fox, Kevin Henkes, James Marshall, Barbara Park, Brian Pinkney, Jon Scieszka, Peter Sis, Mark Teague, Charlotte Zolotow — and more.

But I haven’t done that in a while. Until – oh, what the hey! — I decided to try it here. For, like, free. Beats the price of gas, and better mileage, too. I might even make this a recurring feature. So if, Dear Reader, you enjoy reading this kind of thing, encourage me with a friendly comment in the “Friendly Comments” section.

My first guest is Matthew Cordell. Primarily an illustrator — Toby and the Snowflakes by Julie Halpern, Righty and Lefty by Rachel Vail, The Moon Is La Luna by Jay M. Harris — Matthew has recently completed his first self-penned title, Trouble Gum (Feiwel & Friends, Fall ’09). And I’d be remiss if I failed to mention the book we worked on together, Mighty Casey, which you must purchase right now (Feiwel & Friends, Spring, ’09).

Hey, Matt. What have you been doing today?

Hi, JP. Um. Woke up and did my cholesterol-lowering daily jaunt on the treadmill. Then answered email — some business with an editor, an art director, an agent. Then had breakfast. Now here we are.

Wow, I’m impressed. I used that same time to stare vacantly out the window, mumbling and gripping a cup of coffee.

I’m mumbling in my coffee too. We are so self-employed.

It must feel like a big accomplishment to write your first picture book, Trouble Gum. I didn’t even realize that you artists could spell. Tell me about that. Does it take a different part of your brain to write? Was it words first, then pictures? How does that happen?

Spelling aside, writing for me is very, very hard. Trouble Gum is big for me. This will be my first published picture book as both author and illustrator, but not my first picture book idea. I’ve had many. And they always start the same way — visually. With a single image in my head. Then I try to wrap a story around that. It usually bombs hard, but this one
stuck. One of my downfalls as a “writer” is that I can’t stop editing. I write one story about ten different ways and can’t decide on one. Which is how this story happened too, but I had two willing and excellent editors on this who helped keep me calm and focused, Liz Szabla and Rebecca Davis.

How does it work for books you don’t write? I’d guess that different editors send you manuscripts from time to time. How do you decide which ones to accept?

At this point, I’m really aligning nicely, publishing my author-illustrated work with Feiwel and Friends. And regarding my illustrator-only stuff, I used to pound the pavement solo and try to find work that way. But last year, I got picked up by my rock ‘n roll agent, Rosemary Stimola, and she’s been keeping me well stocked with work. Honestly, I haven’t met a manuscript I didn’t like yet. I have turned down projects due to time constraints — if I have a job that conflicts with a proposed project and due dates can’t be moved.

So you’re basically saying you’ll do anything for money.

Wasn’t it one Ludwig Bemelmans who said, “It’s all about the Benjamins.”

I love your blog, by the way. It’s so informal, loose, and friendly. You seem really willing to share your work — even the crummy stuff. Oh, you know what I mean: rough sketches, incomplete ideas, doodlings. It feels like you are open and really enjoy the process.

I love the crummies — a real accident aficionado. It seems to work well as blog fodder. I think everyone, doing whatever they do, finds a different groove to do the thing she/he does so it works for her/him. These differences are what make decent blog news. And for people who know very little about art-making, it’ s all news.

Kids often ask me about “Writer’s Block”. They seem fascinated by the idea. For me, Writer’s Block is just another way of saying that I’m bored — that I’m boring myself. It’s a sign to change things up. Is that true for you? Do you ever get stuck as an artist? And if so, how do you deal with it?

I don’t think I’ve ever been completely “blocked”. I, too, have been somewhat bored at times, with myself, my approach. But it’s so easy to get re-inspired. There’s so much incredible work out there — in both writing and illustration. Inspiration gets me going
again. I like what I’m doing in illustration, but I don’t want to churn the exact same thing out over and over. I like to change a bit here and there — add to and develop in subtle ways. With style and with the tools I use.

At this point, we’re both sitting around, twiddling our thumbs, waiting for Mighty Casey to hit the stores and rock the free world. We’ve both been finished with our part of the work for a long while. How does it feel when you finally get that finished book in your hands? Is it exciting, anti-climatic, disappointing? Will you do the Dance of Joy?

Let me start by saying that, as an illustrator, my single greatest feeling is at the moment of completion. The moment that the art is finished and fresh, successful, and alive and about to go into a sturdy package to FedEx. Now, as for the book itself, man, I’m so self-critical. It’s hard for me to let loose and fully celebrate my own accomplishments. So, honestly, I often look at books hot off the press and immediately think of things I could have done differently. I know. It’s not healthy. Possibly because the publishing process takes years from start to finish. Long after I wrap a book, and it’s published, my new work might have taken a new direction. I probably haven’t seen that art for a long while, either. But then I look at it again, and again, and again (cause that’s what I do), and remember and love it again. And I DO get excited and I do NOT dance. One thing that is, without fail, cool: throughout the process I see my books in various oversized, untrimmed, unfinished ways — single drawings on larger pieces of paper, untrimmed print proofs, or even floppy old F & G’s. To see the final book the first time, professionally designed and trimmed and jacketed — it’s always a unique thrill. Mighty Casey is gonna look great. Thanks to our uber-talented art director, Rich Deas!

What about school visits? Have you visited classrooms? One writer I spoke with, Tedd Arnold, said that it helped him “keep track of their squirmy little reality.” How do you make sure your work connects with young readers?

Aw, man. Public speaking is a minor terror to me. As mainly the book’s illustrator, I’ve not yet felt the pressure to aggressively promote. I kind of felt that each book belongs more to the author — the artist is support player. Which is, I understand, not entirely accurate with the picture book genre, but I’ve used that sweeping conclusion to my own benefit. Having
said it, I haven’t done a ton of stuff with schools. I have done some stuff when I first fell into this biz, with my first picture book, Toby and the Snowflakes. Cause that was written by my main squeeze, author and wife-to-me Julie Halpern. We promo’d together at a few schools and bookstores. It was easier for me to go in as a team. But it’s really something I have to overcome. Can’t hide in the studio forever!

How’s that working out for you, living with a writer? I hear they can be insufferable.

Truthfully, I think my writer might have more to say about living with her illustrator.

Okay, now for the Lightning Round. Favorite children’s books?

Sylvester and the Magic Pebble, Mouse Tales, Martin Pebble, Leon and Bob, The Lorax, Olivia, Muncha! Muncha! Muncha!, The Monster at the End of this Book.

Favorite musicians?

Bob Dylan, Nina Simone, The Who, Woody Guthrie, George/Ira Gershwin, Toots and the Maytals, Vinicius de Moraes, Hank Williams, Fugazi.

Movies?

It’s a Wonderful Life, The Big Lebowski, Rushmore, The Matrix, Rear Window, American Splendor, Breaking Away, Vertigo, The Aviator, Sideways, Raising Arizona, Singin’ in the Rain.

Artists?

William Steig, Saul Steinberg, Francesco Clemente, Art Spiegelman, Michel Rabagliati, Chester Brown, Martin Kippenberger, Jean-Jacques Sempe, Cy Twombly.

Dessert? (And for some reason, I just know you are going to say, pie. Maybe it’s the Southern-roots thing.)

Even though I do enjoy many varieties of pie, I must disappoint you by answering cake.

Chocolate?

How’d you know?

Is there another kind? Anyway, Matthew, I see that our time is up. Thanks. You’ve got a great spirit. I know your career is just beginning to take off — great things ahead. I hope we can actually meet-meet one day, outside of Cyberspace. But until then, we’ll remain Brothers in Blog!

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Category: Interviews & Appreciations, Mighty Casey / Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Coach Lapinski

July 22, 2008 / / No comments

Coach Lapinski

Here’s a piece of art by Matthew Cordell from our upcoming picture book, Mighty Casey (March, Feiwel & Friends). It’s a rhyming story inspired by Ernest Thayer’s “Casey At the Bat,” borrowing the classic poem’s rhythm and cadence, but relocated to a pee-wee Little League team that can’t do anything right. Matthew’s comic illustrations make it all work. In my opinion, he’s a huge talent — with a great sensibility — just beginning to tap into his potential. If he were available on the New York Stock Exchange, I’d be all in. Ah, to be young and so full of promise.

I wanted to share this piece because I identify with the somewhat bedraggled Coach Lapinski. I’ve spent much of the past three weeks coaching thirteen boys on an eight-year-old All-Star team. We played nine games in two tournaments; over a stretch of twenty-four days, we practiced or played games on eighteen days. During the open days, it rained . . . or I tried to cut my lawn . . . or tried to reacquaint myself with my enduring wife, Lisa. But still: A great time was had by all. And yes, I’m glad it’s over.

Back to Matthew: He’s got a cool blog — such a friendly tone to it, with openness, wit, and charm. Actually, come to think of it, I’m afraid I have a Man Crush on the guy!

Oh, yeah: I love the sound effects that Matthew drew into the illustration. Tock! Fop! Ting! It reminds me of a childhod favorite from Mad Magazine, the singular Don Martin. His illustrations always had the greatest sounds. Frak! Boimp!

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Category: Mighty Casey / Tags: , ,
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