Boston Globe-Horn Book Award Acceptance

am thrilled to be here. Every day I feel it is an honor and a privilege to be able to speak to so many children through my books. Now to win this award . . . I am filled with great pride and humility, and I would like to thank the Boston Globe–Horn Book judges for welcoming Dog and Bear with such open arms and to thank Roger Sutton, editor of the Horn Book, and his staff, including the invaluable Lolly Robinson, for inviting me here today.

Ever since I was a little girl, it has been my dream to write and illustrate picture books for children. As a child I was constantly drawing and painting pictures to go with the stories I’d written. After graduating from art school, I began my career as a television animator, but I continued to log sketches and ideas for children’s books in my journals. Some years ago, I finally decided it was time to try to get published. I was fortunate to meet my editor and now dear friend, Neal Porter, almost immediately. Neal and I are now working on our tenth book together.

Making picture books is a joyous and fulfilling process for me. I love taking an everyday concept and looking at it from a completely new perspective. I’ve had a wonderful time exploring the alphabet, colors, emotions, opposites, and the idea of transformation. There are always challenges and design obstacles that often seem impossible to overcome. Usually, I bring an idea to Neal and we start tossing it around. Eventually, the idea takes shape and begins to acquire a physical form, but invariably I reach a point where I wonder whether I will ever make it work. Working with Neal and achieving that breakthrough moment when everything seems to magically fall into place is the most satisfying part of the process.

In The Hidden Alphabet, that moment occurred when I realized that die-cuts were needed to isolate each object and show only a portion of each letter. In Walter Was Worried, that moment occurred when I added a simple narrative to a book that featured faces composed of letterforms. I suppose you could say that Walter was my first narrative book, although I believe that all of my books tell stories.

Nevertheless, the process behind Dog and Bear was different from the start. One day when Neal was visiting, a multicolored stuffed bear perched atop a tall chair in my living room caught his eye. Neal has this wonderful way of giving me a word or a phrase and saying, “Write a book about this!” So as he stood there holding this funny-looking bear, he uttered those five words I truly love to hear. Suddenly, my dachshund, Copper, jumped onto his lap, and Neal exclaimed, “There’s your story!” Thus Dog and Bear was born.

Within a few days, the first story, “Bear in the Chair,” was ready to be edited. Neal and I spent a great deal of time talking about Dog and Bear and who they were as characters. I opened my journal and drew a line down the middle of the page with “Dog” on the left and “Bear” on the right, and we began listing their personality traits. In Dog’s column: energetic, playful, affectionate, impulsive, and a bit self-centered. “That sounds like you!” Neal said. “Hmm,” I thought, as I realized he was probably right. Then it was Bear’s turn. In Bear’s column: kind, a bit formal, logical, a problem solver, and a perfectionist. “Hey! And that sounds like you!” I said. It was at that moment that we realized that Dog and Bear were two characters with whom we were very familiar. From then on, writing about their friendship came easy. The only snag occurred when, much to my dismay, Neal decided that there should be three stories in one book. I objected but finally gave in when he insisted that an eight-page picture book would not sell very well.

I have always been fascinated with concepts, and making books is a way for me to share with children new ways to learn and conceptualize. It is my wish that my books will help children discover concepts, not just learn them — from the alphabet to colors to opposites; and on to the idea of negative space and the power of seeing, guessing and anticipating, and finding answers. It has been said that Dog and Bear is a departure for me because it is a narrative book, not a concept book. But to me, Dog and Bear is yet another kind of concept book. It’s about the concept of friendship. It’s about the reality of friendship. Dog and Bear are two characters who are kind and caring, but they are not perfect. They have their own individual needs, but, above all else, they are fond of each other. They are best friends. In some ways they are opposites — but not the Black? White! Day? Night! kind. Their stories are about feelings — but beyond the Walter Was Worried kind. They learn and develop and grow and change — but not in the manner of First the Egg. Perhaps everything in a child’s life remains conceptual until it is further explored, understood, and then made real. Sharing is a concept. Kindness, generosity, and understanding are all concepts to me. I suppose the difference is that they are complicated ones with unlimited potential for exploration.

In “Bear in the Chair,” Bear is afraid to come down from a very tall chair. Dog stretches his long dachshund body so that Bear can slide down his back to safety. This is a story about fear, about overcoming fear and being brave, and also about being an understanding and supportive friend. In “Play with Me! Play with Me!” Bear is busy reading a book. Dog tries to distract Bear, pulling out toy after toy. Finally, Bear realizes that Dog just wants to be with his friend, and he puts his book down. This is a story about respecting each other’s wishes and taking the time to appreciate each other. In “Dog Changes His Name,” Dog decides that he wants a new name and considers a myriad of alternatives. Finally Bear suggests that Dog change his name to My Best Friend Dog — or just Dog for short. Dog’s identity crisis is solved as he realizes that he is just fine as he is. Bravery, courage, unselfishness, confidence, understanding, patience, friendship, and love: concepts, one and all. I write and paint the stories of the friendship between Dog and Bear with joy and delight, and I hope that there will be many, many more to come.

I’d like to thank my mother, Vera, and my mother-in-law, Marge, the remarkable women to whom Dog and Bear is dedicated, who are kind and strong and unconditionally loving; and my beloved father, who is looking down on us today and smiling. I’d like to thank my beautiful children, Drew and Dylan, who, as my dear friend Cher always said, are the air in my lungs. I’d like to thank Neal Porter, my editor and friend — my Bear. All my life I’ve read about the rare relationship that can form between an author and an editor. I feel so very fortunate to have the benefit of Neal’s brilliance as well as his friendship. I’d like to thank Simon Boughton and Lauren Wohl at Roaring Brook Press, without whose faith and support none of my books would be a reality. And most of all, I’d like to thank my incredibly patient husband, Chris, whose love, wisdom, and confidence in me has made all the difference in the world.

Thank you so very much!

From the January/February 2008 issue of The Horn Book Magazine

Listen to this speech