Publication Interview with Marsha Wilson Chall and Jill Davis: The Secret Life of Figgy Mustardo (by Mark Ceilley)

Today I have the honor of interviewing Marsha Wilson Chall, the author of the new picture book, The Secret Life of Figgy Mustardo, and her editor, Jill Davis.

Marsha Wilson Chall grew up an only child in Minnesota, where her father told her the best stories. The author of many picture books, including Up North at the Cabin, One Pup's Up, and Pick a Pup, Marsha teaches writing at Hamline University's MFAC program in St. Paul, Minnesota. She lives on a small farm west of Minneapolis with her husband, dog, barn cats, and books.

Jill Davis has been an executive editor in children’s books at HarperCollins since 2013. A veteran of children’s books, she began her career at Random House in 1992, and worked there at Crown and Knopf Books For Young Readers until 1996, after which she worked at Viking until 2005. After that, she held positions at both Bloomsbury and FSG. She is the author of three picture books, editor of one collection of short stories, and has an MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults from Hamline University

Mark: The Secret Life of Figgy Mustardo came about in a different way. You were asked to write a story based on illustrations of a character. Could you tell us about this process and a little about the story?

Marsha: You're right that this story evolved differently than my others. My amazing editor, Jill Davis, sent me Alison Friend's thumbnails of an adorable canine character she had named Figgy Mustardo in a variety of human-like poses and costumes. For me, it was love at first sight! So I set about the process of creating Figgy's story based on my impressions of him through Alison's art and then, via Jill, Alison's written notions of his characterization and story ideas.

An imaginative, spirited fellow, Alison visualized Figgy zipping through many adventures on his scooter. In the book, I took the liberty of changing the scooter to a race car and also cast Figgy as a rock star and a pizza chef who organizes and stars in a neighborhood rock concert, pizzeria, and stock car race with his animal friends. Lots of Figgy fun, but this did not a story make. I needed to know why these activities mattered to Figgy and how he grew as a character.

I also had to think about the nuts and bolts of how Figgy might transform from dog to dilettante. I was fairly certain of my own dog's boredom and loneliness while our family is away, so I started my story exploration there. We all know that dogs, as social creatures, dislike being left alone and are often fraught with anxiety leading to certain not-so-flattering behaviors and/or the escape of sleep. A story with a sleeping dog would not be too interesting, so I chose the much more exciting, destructive route. What if Figgy ate things--any things--in his frustration, fell asleep, and dreamed about himself as a manifestation of what he ate? We all know "you are what you eat," so in Figgy's case, for example, he eats Mrs. Mustardo's Bone Appetit magazine, falls asleep, and dreams of being Italian Pizza Chef Mustardo serving Muttsarello and Figaro pizzas to adoring gourmands. When he wakes, he knows his dream is a sign, so he makes a real one of his own, "Free Pizza," and serves his entire animal neighborhood at Figgy's Pizzeria.

Most importantly, I needed to develop a motivation for Figgy's adventures; how were these events connected to him? What did they mean? How would they affect Figgy's world outside and inside? The answer arrived in the form of loss; every animal neighbor came to Figgy's concert and pizzeria and car race except Figgy's family, the Mustardos, especially George (his boy). In desperation, Figgy creates the sign "Free Dog" to find a family who will talk and walk and play with him like all the other families he sees through his window. Where are the Mustardos? The family Mustardo arrives in time to show Figgy how much they care with a promise to take him wherever they can and to provide him companionship when they can't in the form of new pup named Dot. Figgy and Dot go on to enliven the neighborhood with Free Shows nightly.

Mark: What kind of revising/editing process did you and Jill go through?

Marsha: Once I knew my character and his problem, I dashed off the story, sent it to Jill who loved it at first sight, then sat back satisfied with a good day's work.

Ha! Not the way it happened, but I did write a first draft within a few days that Jill found promising. So many drafts later that I can't even recall the original, Jill exercised plenty of patience waiting for the story she and Alison hoped I could write. I know she'll protest my tribute, but I have never worked with an editor so open to my trial and error. Her abundant humor carried us through the process that I think would have otherwise overwhelmed me.

      Mark: Will there be any more books with Figgy and his further adventures?

Marsha: Figgy hopes so and so do Jill, Alison, and I.

For now, I hope Figgy wags his way into the hands and hearts of many human friends where he belongs.

WOOF!

Mark: How was this project different having a character first and then having to find a writer to tell his story?

Jill: It was kind of hard. The illustrator had invented this little dog who she wanted to be an adventurer—yet she wasn’t sure how to make the story happen. When I saw the dog, I thought of Marsha’s One Pup’s Up—and I knew how talented she was. Seemed like a slam dunk! But all of us—Marsha, myself, and the illustrator, Alison Friend had to share plenty of feedback, edit, and revise a bit before Marsha was able to tell both the story she envisioned as well as the story Alison had in mind. Marsha pictured Figgy at home, and really loved the idea of using signs. Alison seemed to feel Figgy was some kind of James Bond. So how were those two visions going to meet? They finally did when Marsha realized that Figgy would go to sleep and dream about his exciting alter-ego. And we all loved the idea. The book may seem a little bit sad because Figgy is always being left at home, but Marsha told it in such a great way, that Figgy showed his grit! If he’s hungry, he eats what’s there—but then the magic happens and he goes to sleep and dreams of something related to what he ate. It’s so fun and so imaginative. I love what Marsha did with Figgy’s story, and Alison did, too.

      Mark: What was it like to work with Marsha in this new role as editor after being her student in the MFA in Writing for Children program at Hamline University?

Jill: It felt very wonderful and natural. Marsha does not use intimidation as a tactic in general. She’s the rare combination of brilliant and super silly. That’s one reason she’s so loved at Hamline and in the continental United States, generally speaking.

There were times when she should have been frustrated or wanted to spit at me, but she was cool as a cucumber in the freezer in the North Pole. So professional and what I loved also about working with her is how much I learned: a lot. I learned how she makes use of repetition, alliteration, and very careful editing. I can be sloppy, but Marsha walked straight out of Strunk and White. She’s exact and wonderfully detail oriented. She was also involved at the sketch stage. Actually at several sketch stages. We worked on the phone, we worked at Hamline, and we worked until we thought it felt perfect. And she loved it because she could use it in her teaching! And I just loved working with Marsha!

Mark:  Thank you, Marsha and Jill for taking the time to tell us about your collaboration on The Secret Life of Figgy Mustardo.   The book is now available at your local independent book store.

Faculty Voices with Marsha Chall: REFLECTIONS ON THE AUTHOR VISIT

Marsha Chall and friends

The author visit—a heralded event for both invitee and inviter. In my two decades of visits, Murphy’s Law has sometimes defined the day’s dynamics, from hyperbolic scheduling (the worst being 12 presentations in one day), to dysfunctional room assignments (full afternoon sun for a slide show), to vomiting children (I try not to make them sick).

The reason for my continued forbearance as a visiting children’s author is that most experiences defy Murphy’s Law: What can go well, does, and sometimes eclipses even my expectations. Tired feet and weakened vocal chords do not dent my conviction that an author’s presence deepens and emboldens the connection between stories and readers, enriching both author and child, so that by the end of each visit, “I am wrapped in a sweet humility of secrets” (Isak Dinesen).

As a visiting author I have found these things to be true:

• Authors create readers. Basal reading texts and worksheets might not. I visited a tiny school in Southwest Minnesota where the sole reading curriculum was, of all things, books. Reading class was conducted in the library where every child could freely choose literature to read daily. The school could not afford to buy a basal reading series, so it couldn’t afford not to use the library. These young readers created outstanding companion writing and art in preparation for my visit. They also achieved the highest reading scores in the state.
  
• Readers create authors. If I had never been a prodigious reader, I would not write. Reading my own work to children allows me to hear it as a reader, so that I write far more with the reader in mind. By winnowing passages from my work for oral readings, I have discovered that my best writing is what I like to read over and over and that children listen to with open faces and respond to with silence, laughter, gasps, echoes, or murmured acknowledgements. Writer and readers have connected across the arc of story. We have felt and shared our humanity.
  
• Authors create authors. On a deep winter day in Northern Minnesota, five middle-grade girls encircled me after my presentation. They were skipping some of their lunch period to spend time with me, hungry for something besides fish sticks. As they shared the details of their changing families—a runaway mother, a new stepfather, a smaller bedroom, horrific pet deaths, parents’ unemployment—I slowed the pace of my book signing to give them space to tell their stories. Dinesen’s words reflect the truth of this telling: “All sorrows can be borne if we put them in a story or tell a story about them.”

Author to author, we are entrusted with the sweet humility of secrets. An author visit is a compelling responsibility, but also a privilege. Humane. Humbling. Honorable.

Meet the Grad: Jeanne Anderson

On January 19, 2014, on the final day of the upcoming residency, the MFAC program will have a Graduate Recognition ceremony, honoring the 11 men and women who have just completed their studies and will receive an MFA from Hamline University. For the last few weeks we've been posting interviews with many of the grads. Our interview today is the final one for this class. Today's grad is Jeanne Anderson; she lives in Boynton Beach, Florida.

What do you do when you’re not working on packets?   

I am a retired teacher/librarian, so when I am not working on packets, I spend my time traveling, hanging out at libraries, taking care of grandchildren, reading and buying books.

How did you hear about the Hamline MFAC Program?

I was searching for a Master’s Degree program in Children’s Literature, and discovered the Hamline low-residency program. This was a huge improvement over the online degree programs I was considering, where there is little feedback, little peer interaction and no face time at all. Also, I was very impressed with Mary Rockcastle when I met with her to ask if I was too old for this program. She didn’t seem to think so, and I presented my Critical Thesis on my 65^th Birthday! I considered that event to be the best birthday present ever. Thank you, Mary.  

What was your writing experience prior to entering the program?

 I have been writing poetry for myself and family members for years. I have also written a number of stories for my children and grandchildren. But, according to my five adult children, I have always talked about writing the books I have in my head. They strongly encouraged me because it would keep me occupied in my retirement. I also think they wanted me to stop talking about doing it – and do it!

What do especially remember about your first residency?

I remember being scared that I would not be able to keep up the pace of back-to- back lectures, but that was never a problem. I could hardly wait to get into Workshop every morning, and the lectures were always energizing. I never fell asleep! Not even once. Also, I was afraid I would slip on the ice and snow and break a hip! But it was never that bad, and there were lots of folks to help me walk along the campus sidewalks.

Have you focused on any one form (PB, novel, nonfiction; graphic novel) age group in your writing?  Tried a form you never thought you’d try? 

I wanted to be exposed to a different form of writing every semester.The 1st semester I ventured into picture book writing with Marsha Chall. The 2nd semester I tried verse novels with Marilyn Nelson. The 3rd semester I attempted to write a middle school novel with Eleanor Tate. I know I will never have an opportunity for feedback from so many excellent published authors, and I was determined to make the most of my time at Hamline!  

Tell us about your Creative Thesis.

I have many story ideas, but the one that I started out with in my Creative Thesis was about a biracial boy and how he learns to cope in a multicultural world. As the chapters progressed, the story completely morphed into a different kind of journey! What emerged was a lonely child’s search for family and belonging. When it was all done, I felt quite satisfied with the direction it took.  It touched on a universal theme that I felt was far more important to present to a young audience.

What changes have you seen in your writing during your studies? 

My advisors have consistently challenged me to stretch and move out of my comfort zones.  My vision has expanded to include several genres and different types of writing for children. Without Hamline, I would have been content to write short rhyming poems and little stories.  Now I think big, and in terms of all kinds of possibilities! 

With packet deadlines removed as an incentive, do you anticipate it will be harder to keep writing?  Not if I begin writing for contest deadlines!

Any plans for your post-Hamline writing life?

Yes, I have plans.  The first thing I will do is create a spreadsheet for submissions.  On that spreadsheet will be the names of publishers AND contest deadlines.  The contest deadlines will help me keep up the momentum of producing something every month.  Then I will start attending a writers group consistently where I will be held accountable for producing something on a regular basis. 

Any thoughts for entering students or for people considering the program?

Yes.  The Hamline program seems to be dedicated to developing, encouraging and producing each student’s best writing.  Writing is the one of the few careers that can be pursued anywhere, anytime and under almost any conditions.  It can be done while we work at other jobs.  It is also a creative outlet that can only get better, since it is an expression of each person’s cumulative growth and development.   It has no age limit, and in fact the older we are the more stuff we have to write about!   And best of all, it brings us in contact with wonderful people. 

The Hamline experience is a rare opportunity for anyone fortunate enough to be accepted into its low-residency program.  Anyone who loves to write cannot help but benefit from the residencies, the packets and the contact with advisors.  In spite of the snow and ice in January, it is clearly a win-win investment that I would recommend to anyone with an urge to write, share and learn.

***

The public is welcome to attend the graduate recognition ceremony on Sunday, January 19, 3:30pm, (Anne Simley Theatre, Drew Fine Arts Building). Jane Yolen is the speaker.

Faculty Voices: "What Are You Staring At?" by Marsha Wilson Chall

In his book Imagine: How Creativity Works, Jonah Lehrer states that “…[the writer] very quickly loses the ability to see his prose as a reader… He knows exactly what he’s trying to say, but that’s because he’s the one saying it. In order to construct a … coherent narrative, he needs to edit as if he knows nothing, as if he’s never seen these words before.” (132)

To paraphrase Lehrer, we can ascribe this problem to neurological pathways traveled too often. Somehow, we writers have to shake it up, to read our prose as what Zadie Smith called “smart strangers,” and what Lehrer refers to as “outsiders.” How? Here’s what Samuel Taylor Coleridge did:

One of his favorite pastimes was attending public chemistry lectures in London, watching eminent scientists set elements on fire. When Coleridge was asked why he spent so much time watching these pyrotechnic demonstrations, he had a ready reply. “I attend the lectures,” Coleridge said, “so that I can renew my stock of metaphors.” He knew that we see the most when we are on the outside looking in.” (Lehrer, 134)

Lehrer concludes that “…the only way to remain creative over time—to not be undone by our expertise—is to experiment with ignorance. To stare at things we don’t fully understand.” (134)

(Click to enlarge image.)

Hence the reason novelist Zadie Smith encouraged writers to put away the draft for a significant period of time, to be allowed the opportunity to see it as alien writing; to see not as its author, but to stare as if we’re trying to understand.

Perhaps this is why I’m drawn to drawing as a way to stare. When I wrote Up North at the Cabin, for example, I wrestled with a legion of words to “show” how a canoe is portaged between bodies of water. I hoped the reader could almost experience it herself if I compared it to something she already knew. What I needed was a fresh metaphor, a way of seeing from the outside to effect something inside the reader. I drew a picture which resembled a banana on toothpicks (the canoe flipped over the portagers’ shoulders, a walking hull). But that was no banana. Its skin was hard, more like a shell. I posed questions about this sketch as if I were a space alien (that “smart stranger” scanning the new world for resemblances: What has a hard shell and many legs? Aha—a beetle!). Aha! I had my metaphor:  

On the portage trail,

we sling the canoe over our heads.

Its backbone to the sky,

we trudge along—

an armored beetle homeward bound.

We must get outside of our own heads by staring or drawing or forgetting it all in a drawer. Dear Writer, what are you staring at today?