BOOK BY BOOK: the making of a monkey man from Jarrett Krosoczka on Vimeo.
- AR - It's just that ... nobody's blogged about my books in like 2 days.
- JK - But I was a hot man of children's literature!
The blog of a teacher educator discussing math, science, poetry, children's literature, and issues related to teaching children and their future teachers.
If you read the title of this exercise aloud, you will hear a quadruple rhyme. But if you examine the words themselves, you will notice that there is something special about this rhyme scheme. The sound shun is contained in ocean, the sounds of both shun and ocean in motion, and shun, ocean and motion can all be folded into emotion. Such a rhyme scheme, which incidentally was favored by the seventeenth-century poet George Herbert, is called diminishing rhyme because the rhyme words get smaller as you move from emotion to shun. But I prefer the term nesting rhymes because the words nest one inside the other like Russian wooden dolls.Here is an example of this form from the George Herbert poem "Paradise".
I bless Thee, Lord, because I growSo, that's it. Your challenge is to write a poem that uses diminishing rhyme. Leave me a comment about your piece and I'll post the results here later this week.
Among the trees, which in a row
To Thee both fruit and order ow
Bubbles are soft and squishy and full of air. They shimmer. They float. And they are very handy. Animals make bubbles, ride bubbles, breathe bubbles, and even live in bubbles. Animals use bubbles in amazing ways.Accompanied by a soft palette of gorgeous watercolor illustrations, Bayrock takes readers on a journey into worlds not often explored. Each double-page spread begins with a short sentence that describes the way in which bubbles are used. Beneath that are the common and scientific names for an animal, followed by a paragraph that describes how that particular creature uses bubbles in its daily life. The illustrations are whimsical, with each animal spouting its thoughts in, you guessed it, a bubble.
Bubbles are for
Playing.
Bottlenose Dolphin - Tursiops truncatusYoung dolphins play with bubbles. They push bubbles around and chase them. It's a game to try and bit the bubbles before they burst at the surface. Some dolphins also make bubble rings. A quick flick of the head starts a small underwater whirlpool. Bubbles enter the whirlpool from the dolphin's blowhole and form a ring about as thick as pencil and up to two feet wide.
Book: Bubble Homes and Fish Farts
Author: Fiona Bayrock
Illustrator: Carolyn Conahan
Publisher: Charlesbridge
Date Published: 2009
Pages: 48 pages
Grade: 2-5
ISBN: 978-1570916694
Source of Book: Personal copy purchased at Amazon.
Regrets - Got any? Things you wish you'd done differently? Things you wish you'd said or not said? Things you want to be sure to do and say now so that you don't end up with regrets?
In January of 1986 I enrolled as a transfer student at SUNY StonyBrook. I was lucky to find housing on campus in the dorm for international students and became fast friends with a group of men and women from Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and Egypt. We ate together, played endless hours of backgammon, studied into the wee hours, and talked of all manner of things.To read more on regrets, visit Sunday Scribblings.
On the morning of January 28th, we were gathered together in the lounge waiting for the launch of the Space Shuttle Challenger. As we watched in shock as the events unfolded, one young man (American) shouted, "Those damn Arabs are behind this!" (Though there was no 9-11 to blame for this hostility, the Iran hostage crisis and Beirut barracks bombing were fresh in the minds of many.) As the faces of my friends fell, so did my heart, and yet, I said nothing. Within minutes I was sitting at the table alone. My friends were gone, and they would not return. EVER.
In the days and weeks that passed they avoided me. They did not make eye contact, left when I came into the lounge or kitchen, and did not sit near me in class. I was devastated. While I did not make the malicious comment, I was complicit by failing to stand up for my friends.
Twenty two years later, I still feel the same heaviness in my heart when I think of this moment. However, my guilt over my behavior has shaped me in ways I never could have imagined. As a teacher, it fed my desire to teach children about the world outside the one they live in. It helped me to recognize the transformative power of books and stories to teach us about those unlike ourselves. It continues to drive my search for books to use in instruction that express the range of human experience.
Fast forward to 2001. Two months after 9-11 I spent a week in Denmark reviewing a study abroad program. On the flight home I sat next to a young couple from India, an old couple from Albania, and two young Pakistani men. Few on the flight were friendly to them. However, I spent some time talking to the Indian couple who spoke a fair amount of English. I helped the couple from Albania fill out their customs forms using some mixture of hand signals and head nodding in the absence of a shared language. The young Pakistani men seemed wary of strangers, so all I could do was smile. Once we landed and were deplaning, one of the young men got down my bag and said, "Thank you." I couldn't figure out what he was thanking me for, so I asked why. He said he was grateful for the kindness I had shown to those around me. I remember tearing up and responding, "We will never have peace if we don't see the good in others and act accordingly." In my heart, however, I was thinking of the friends I had disappointed so many years before.
I suppose I shall always carry this regret with me, but since it has made me a kinder, stronger person, having to reflect on it every now and then doesn't seem such a bad thing.
The Seedling
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
As a quiet little seedling
Lay within its darksome bed,
To itself it fell a-talking,
And this is what it said:
"I am not so very robust,
But I'll do the best I can;"
And the seedling from that moment
Its work of life began.
So it pushed a little leaflet
Up into the light of day,
To examine the surroundings
And show the rest the way.
The leaflet liked the prospect,
So it called its brother, Stem;
Then two other leaflets heard it,
And quickly followed them.
To be sure, the haste and hurry
Made the seedling sweat and pant;
But almost before it knew it
It found itself a plant.
The sunshine poured upon it,
And the clouds they gave a shower;
And the little plant kept growing
Till it found itself a flower.
Little folks, be like the seedling,
Always do the best you can;
Every child must share life's labor
Just as well as every man.
And the sun and showers will help you
Through the lonesome, struggling hours,
Till you raise to light and beauty
Virtue's fair, unfading flowers.
Marianne Nielsen at Doing the Write Thing! shares a poem entitled Without. It leaves out the letter E.
Jane Yolen left this achingly beautiful and bittersweet poem in the comments.Without U
Tess of Natural Worlds wrote a poem entitled THEY. It leaves out the letter I.
When my dear one died,
I was by his side
in a chair,
holding his hand,
speaking of love.
His son standing
played a song
he’d especially loved.
Then son and I,
now the only “we” in the room,
whispered
“Go across the water,”
which the song spoke of.
“Go beloved,
sans fear, sans care
for the children, wife, life.”
And he floated away
in death becoming
earth,
sky,
memory,
blessing,
and birdsong.
Schelle at Brand New Ending wrote a reverse lipogram in which the same letter appears in every word. Her poem is entitled Dragonfly.
Julie Larios at The Drift Record also left a poem in the comments. It is written without the letter U.SAVED
Lisa Chellman at under the covers wrote a poem without the letter I. It is called _dent_ty Theft.
Saved the last
dance for him, saved
a polka, saved
the sad song
for someone else,
meanwhile saved the whales,
saved the three little pigs
from the wolf,
saved me from myself
while he waited,
saved pennies, saved
lives, saved
the waving wheat,
saved anything
in need of saving,
saved collectibles,
saved green stamps,
saved salt
and pepper shakers,
saved styrofoam boxes,
saved the day
and the planet
all while he waited,
and then he saved me
a piece, saved me
a seat, saved me
a place in Heaven.
cloudscome at a wrung sponge left this poem in the comments.U ter ectomy
by Andromeda Jazmon
When the tears
didn't stop
the weeping became
boring and messy.
I called the doctor.
She said
it's probably
that age
we know what comes now.
Then later she called
back on the eve
of nativity.
The test showed
it's leaning toward
cancer.
Gather what is needed,
Prepare to be gone
three days &
come back slowly.
The fist that clenched
life and spit it
from me.
The rose that pealed
red in layers of pink.
The shell that rocked
in anger (twisted
in strength).
Gone. Only the ache
remains.
Brought out ofIt's not to late if you still want to play. Leave me a note about your lipogram and I'll add it to the list.
obscurity by
soft moonlight
two rustling owls
hoot hoot
This is not a blog about lists (truly!), more an invitation to reflect on what makes a good book for children, who are the children's literary greats, and (ideally) what the mix of new and old should be.These two men are asking the same question really. There are those who work in the field of children's literature who will argue that there are books one must be familiar with to be a scholar or librarian or perhaps even a classroom teacher. But what of children? Are there books and stories that every child should/must know? There are those in the Cultural Literacy and Core Knowledge camps who would answer with an emphatic YES!
In the end he asks:So although it'd be foolish to claim that literary prizes have ever served as much of a guide to anything, here's today's question: how close can we get to a canon in children's literature?
The Newbery Medal used to be quite a decent talent-spotter: in the 70s it awarded top honours to Katherine Paterson's Bridge to Terabithia, Susan Cooper's The Grey King (not as good as The Dark is Rising, I reckon, but there you are), Robert C. O'Brien's Mrs Frisby and the Rats of Nimh and Lloyd Alexander's excellent The High King. All of these authors would appear on my list of the best children's writers: all are still being read and enjoyed three decades later.
Should the term "children's literature" even exist at all? Over to you. The canon starts here.Canon indeed. Read the entire article, entitled Hurrah for Children's Literature, then come back and let me know what you think.
Yesterday's news that Neil Gaiman won the Newbery Medal, America's most prestigious award for children's literature, was a welcome surprise for a number of reasons. There was Gaiman's high-spirited, profanity-laced reaction to the news on his Twitter feed – two qualities not commonly associated with children's book authors of yore. There was the more measured and amusing take on his blog (Merrilee-my-agent: "You didn't start swearing, did you?" Me: "No." Her: "Oh good."). But Gaiman's win for The Graveyard Book, about a boy raised by ghosts who faces the wonders and terrors of the worlds of both the living and the dead, also appears to put to bed the notion that the Newbery Medal is out of touch with what people are reading.Read the entire article, entitled Gaiman's Newbery win is a vote for populism - and for excellence.
I'll say it right now: The best Newbery list in decades.Read Neil Gaiman's account of "the call" at (Insert amazed and delighted swearing here).
*Swoon* Beautiful images and beautiful words—what better tools are there to introduce nonfiction to young readers?Another 2008 title that still has me swooning is Nic Bishop Frogs. I must say I'm thoroughly disappointed it wasn't honored in the Robert F. Sibert Informational Book Medal category. I think it's better written than Nic Bishop Spiders, which was a 2008 Sibert Honor book. I also thought Betsy Bird (Fuse #8) made a good point in her Caldecott predictions about the book. She said:
What would happen if a book of photographs won the Caldecott? Take a close look at the Caldecott's definition. At no point does it declare that the "illustrations" must be drawn. What is an illustration? Can a photo be one? If so, then Bishop's book should clearly be the first.So, there you have it. That's me swooning over works of nonfiction, and darn proud of it. What nonfiction books have you read lately that are swoon-worthy? (Yes, I just made that up and rather like it.)
In the dayThe next page reveals the genius behind a beehive. This is one of my favorite spreads in the book—not only do I love the text, but I could spend hours staring at the bees on the hive. The layers upon layers of paper used to create the illustration are stunning. The text that accompanies it reads:
and the night,
on the land
and in flight
tucked in hollows
of trees,
in the tide pools
and seas,
you'll find patterns and shapes—
from the snakes to the bees!
Study a beehive*Swoon* Beautiful images and beautiful words—what better tools are there to introduce nonfiction to young readers? None that I can think of. Take a look at these excerpts at the Simon & Schuster web site.
and you will see
the mathematical genius of the bee.
The hexagons
you'll find inside
fit side
by side
by side
by side.
So there you have it . . . .The end matter of the book is titled New Angles on Animals and provides a brief bit of information on each of the animals highlighted in the pages of the text.
I think you'll agree
that creatures
on land,
in the air,
in the sea
make patterns and shapes
quite naturally!
"Now, any author, from history's dawn, always had that most important aid to writing: an ability to call upon any word in his dictionary in building up his story. That is, our strict laws as to word construction did not block his path. But in my story that mighty obstruction will constantly stand in my path; for many an important, common word I cannot adopt, owing to its orthography."
Lisa Chellman at under the covers tried the S+7 form on some nursery rhymes. In this form, each of the poem’s substantive nouns are replaced with the noun appearing seven nouns away in the dictionary.I tried writing a lipogram, a poem in which one or more letters are excluded. For this poem I excluded the letters A and E. I decided to write about the moon, so I brainstormed a list of words that might describe the moon. Drat! Many had the letters A and E in them. I pulled out my handy dandy thesaurus for some help. This turned out to be harder than I imagined. I desperately wanted the words growling and hobgoblins in there, but alas, it was not to be. Here's what I came up with.
Tess of Written for Children left a poem in the comments. She took a French poem in translation and subjected it to some OULIPO translation of the S+7 type.Portrait of Paul Éluard
Schelle at Brand New Ending used the snowball form to write a poem in which every line has one letter more than the one before.
Dark tears fall on the back's of starfish --
what starfish!
A vocalist cries out over a layer cake--
a willow covers the seed's haha.
The seeds will pass on
but your cloth will not.
I have ooze in my poesy
which will multiply in my marrow.
Then I'll smile at your star fish--
that's funny huh
Wondrous glowingIt's not too late if you still want to play. Review the original post to read about some forms of OULIPO, then leave me a comment and I'll add your poem to the list.
moon
turning ‘round us
shrinking
growing
shrinking
growing
Nonstop motion
holding
our hopes
on high
This engaging, often humorous memoir of his semester at St. John's tells of his journey of discovery as he falls in love again with Plato, Socrates, and Homer, improbably joins the college crew team, and negotiates friendships across generational divides. Along the way, Martin ponders one of the most pressing questions facing education today: do the liberal arts still have a role to play in a society that seems to value professional, vocational, and career training above all else?
Elegantly weaving together the themes of the great works he reads with events that transpire on the water, in the coffee shop, and in the classroom, Martin finds that a liberal arts education may be more vital today than ever before. This is the moving story of a man who faces his fears, fully embraces his second chance, and in turn rediscovers the gifts of life and learning.
13. To YouThe round up this week is being hosted by Laura Purdie Salas. Do stop by and take in all the great poetry being shared this week. Happy poetry Friday, all!
Stranger! if you, passing, meet me, and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me?
And why should I not speak to you?
53. This Moment, Yearning and Thoughtful
This moment yearning and thoughtful, sitting alone,
It seems to me there are other men in other lands, yearning and thoughtful;
It seems to me I can look over and behold them, in Germany, Italy, France, Spain—or far, far away, in China, or in Russia or India—talking other dialects;
And it seems to me if I could know those men, I should become attached to them, as I do to men in my own lands;
O I know we should be brethren and lovers,
I know I should be happy with them.
The words that changed my life were spoken by one of the principal characters who is in college:As my TBR list/pile grows, I can't help but think of these words. Will I ever be able to read enough? Here I don't just mean quantity, but breadth. I want to read more broadly, eclectically, internationally, but there are so many books and so little time.
“She was tortured by the thought of all the things she’d never have time to do. ‘I figured out that if I read a book a week for the rest of my life, and if I live to be eighty, I’ll have read about three thousand books.’ She clutched Sally’s elbow. ‘That’s not enough!’” p. 116
Until I read that paragraph I had never thought about how many books I would read over the course of my life. But only three thousand? I would have thought many more than that. I read a book a week, sometimes a little more, which means I read between 52 and 60 books a year. And she is right: “That’s not enough!”