Archive for jimmy

FAN MAIL WEDNESDAY #341: My Pen Pal Jaquan (Plus Some Actual FREE Writing Advice!)

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Back in February of 2018, I received a piece of fan mail from Jaquan. It was partly in braille, a first for me. And it would become the first of many, many missives we’ve passed along over the years. You see, Jaquan is a dedicated, passionate writer. He’s been sending me stories all this time. There have been lags and spurts, but I’ve tried to keep up. Mostly with encouragement and enthusiasm. And every once in a while I’ll stick in a Pro Tip!

That first envelope looked like this:

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A closer look . . .

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For me, receiving a letter from a reader is a privilege, an honor, and an obligation. There was a time, when my Jigsaw Jones mystery series was at its peak, with new titles appearing on Scholastic Book Clubs four times a year, I got a lot of letters. It was almost a problem. I’d get overwhelmed. I tried creating a small brochure, and then postcards, but they made me feel like a robot. For the most part, I’ve made the effort to write authentic responses to each and every letter. That’s partly why I’ve been sharing a sampling of letters-and-responses on this blog since 2008.

Fortunately, I don’t get nearly as many letters as I used to.

Wait, fortunately?

Oh, well!

(Aside: I also suspect that “letters to an author” is not quite the thing it used to be in schools. Particularly snail mail. It’s too bad.)

The writing life has its ebbs and flows, and I’ve been doing it for the past 39 years. Still hanging in there.

And for the past 7+ years, I’ve been hearing from Jaquan. Recently, I received this one, which was a little different from the rest:

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Dear Mr Preller, I hope your doing well i’m a huge fan of your jigsaw Jones series it inspired me to make A series of my own A little while ago I sent books of my  of my own for you to check out  like my dog detective series I really appreciate the influence you have on your writers like me Young writers like me I know you’re super busy and I just want to say thank you for the inspiration lots of good ideas and thank you again when you get a chance to read them, please give me your honest opinion on my work  warm regards Jaquan J, your author Friend ps, thank you again JJ 

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Here’s my reply:

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Jaquan,
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What a kind letter, my friend, thank you.
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As a writer — and sometimes as a writing teacher — I often come up against the limits of how much I can help any other writer. In the end, we are all alone and need to do it on our own. That quiet time with the blank page and the stirrings of our heart, our own talent, our own dedication.
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I love that you love to write. That you love books and reading. If I’ve helped inspire you, and if I’ve encouraged you, then I’m satisfied with that. I don’t have many wise strategies to impart. We are all fumbling in the dark.
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Follow your enthusiasms.
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Keep going.
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And most of all, enjoy it, have fun with it, let your reading & writing be a source of pride and pleasure in your life.
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If we look to the outside world for our happiness, we will almost certainly be disappointed.
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Maybe that’s the creative process in a nutshell? Why we make things out of nothing. Create your own happiness. Light your own candle in the dark & difficult world.
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You’ve been working hard at this for a long time, Jaquan, and it shows. I’m glad you’ve kept me informed, sharing your stories over years. I see your growth. I’m grateful for you.
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And, yes, you are right. I have a life, things to do, and can’t always give your letters a considered response. Don’t mistake a period of silence for indifference. I care about you, and your writing, and I’m right here, cheering you on.
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By the way, I just looked it up. I first heard from you in February of 2018. So many letters and wonderful stories since. You had wanted to send me a letter in braille and a person at the Visions Center, Pamela, wrote to me. I later received your letter and still treasure it.
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We’ve been writing back and forth for seven years now. Isn’t that something?!
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It’s my turn to thank you, Jaquan. I’m so glad you reached out.
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Your friend in books & letters,
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James Preller
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The Artist’s Name Is Jeffrey

 

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On a recent school visit to Ichabod Crane Middle School — grades 4 & 5, oddly enough — or is it Intermediate? — I get so confused — anyway, moving right along — I noticed a bulletin board welcoming me to the school. Always a thoughtful touch. And there was a portrait of yours truly, based on a photo that still floats around the internet, long after I lost the hat I was wearing, along with a degree of youthfulness.

Later in the day, I had a chance to meet the artist, Jeffrey Dedrick, and asked for a photo. He obliged. For a young rapscallion, Jeffrey sure has talent. He made me look good! Jeffrey even managed to capture my lopsided, lazy right eye.

How did he know?

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A Recent Tree, and a passage from SMALL RAIN by Garth Greenwell

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For almost no reason, a recent tree in my daily wanderings with Echo:

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And here’s a lovely passage from a book I was listening to this morning as I walked in a wooded spot. The book is Small Rain by Garth Greenwell, and it is extraordinary by every possible measure. It is, essentially, about a man who enters a hospital with a serious illness. I’m 80% through it and he is still there, still stuck with needles and tubes and connected to machines, all the indignities and anxieties, the strangeness and the mathematical inevitability of that world. But here he is remembering something, a beloved oak that fell on his property, onto his house, and the crew that came to take it away. 

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These brilliant creatures, I thought as the workers clambered around the trees; these brilliant creatures, they stand up for so long and then they lie down. The oak that fell was dying already, it turned out, it was rotten inside, straight through the trunk. The woman had apologized to me for not flagging it in her inspection; sometimes it takes a long time before they show signs, she said, a tree can be dying for years, decades, and you’d never know. It was beautiful how they died, in the wild, in forests; as they rotted and the wood softened more animals took shelter in them, more insects feasted on them, even after they fell they served a purpose, enriching the soil, they had long lives and long deaths. And there was so much we didn’t understand, the way they communicated through intertwined roots and fungal networks, their huge lungs moving oceans. It wasn’t hard for me to imagine them sentient, ensouled, the only religion that has ever really made sense to me is the worship of trees.

Moose: “I love the world.”

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I’m happy about putting this character out into the world.

Art by Abigail Burch, from our upcoming book, Two Ballerinas . . . and a Moose. August, 2025, I believe. 

This art, and this text, is not final-final. We’re still tweaking, fretting, overthinking, at this point.

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COLLECT ‘EM ALL!

COVER REVEAL: You’ll Love the Paperback Version of “SHAKEN”

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I am asked about book covers from time to time. People are generally curious about the author’s “say” in a cover. 

The answer varies from author to author, publisher to publisher. 

But first, this:

Making a cover is an art. An imprecise creative act. And in talking about these experiences honestly, I don’t mean to disparage anyone’s work. Everybody goes into it wanting to make a great cover. Or, if not great, at least a cover that fits the book. A cover that works.

If you are a big name author — someone who generates significant sales — you’ll will have clout in all regards. You’ll have, at the very least, serious input and veto power over any cover. The publisher wants you to be happy. They want to keep you in the fold.

However, if the author does not occupy that rare air (read: most of us), the publisher will have final word on the cover, which they take very seriously. They hold meetings. Explore options. Discuss covers with sales. Analyze marketing histories and receive input from booksellers. Some publishers even test covers and titles with focus groups. It’s a dificult, challenging, artistic in-house process. And usually after all that happens, after decisions have discussed and agonized over and finally made, that’s when the author will be brought into the process. Often that simply means: “This is the cover, hope you like it.”

After all, this is their business, their investment, their expertise. They want to sell the book (almost) as much as you do. 

I once read someone’s take on this — sorry, I forget who — which I’ve pretty much adopted: The cover is the publisher’s domain. Everything between the covers is the author’s. 

Since I’ve been directly involved in children’s publishing for 40 years, I’ve found it disappointing to be kept out of that creative process. I’ve seen some of my books get beautiful, effective covers. And others that I instantly knew had badly missed the mark. Covers that made little sense or were, in a word, unappealing. It’s a sinking feeling when I look at a cover that I know doesn’t work, because it typically spells doom for sales.

It happens. 

On a more subtle level, I believe that a cover signals to booksellers and reviewers (not just consumers) how a publisher views that particular title. Or where a book fits in the pecking order. There are budgets to consider, projected profit-and-loss statements to balance. A cover also, obviously, provides clues about what kind of story awaits inside. Sometimes for marketing purposes these clues are vague and even intentionally misleading. Sometimes we look at a cover and can’t wait to start reading. 

As a freelancer, I have another rule: Try not to be too very much of a pain in the neck. Nobody wants to hire the difficult writer. Life is full enough of headaches without actually paying for them. Moreover, my default is to genuinely honor and respect the different people involved, who are all doing their best. It’s a team effort and sometimes you’ve just got to step away and let those folks do their jobs. 

Which is to say: 

I love the new paperback cover to Shaken. It won’t be out until 2026, so you’ll need to wait, but for me this is a cover that I truly like. And that’s not always the case.

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