The Important Thing About Margaret Wise Brown

“No good book is loved by everyone,
and any good book is bound to bother somebody.”
~ Mac Barnett

Even if you don’t recognize the name Margaret Wise Brown, you’re likely to have read some of her books. The Runaway Bunny, Bumblebugs and Elephants, The Little Fireman, Goodnight Moon, among so many others. Hers are classics of childhood reading, even today, and I know I’m not the only mother of grown children who can still recite them rote. (And every now and then, does.)

Mac Barnett’s biography of Brown is unusual, deeply literary, and spellbinding. I cannot get enough of it. And while often such books are criticized as being inaccessible to children, I believe my kids would have adored this book. Would they have appreciated the metaphor that turns a single life into a single book? Would they have grasped, when they were small, the dangers of a gatekeeper? Maybe not. But they would have understood being misunderstood. They would have felt the joyful zaniness of buying an entire cart of flowers or bringing ducks into a place for no reason at all. They wanted desperately to know more about things they knew were frowned upon, like swimming naked in an ocean, or borrowing the fur from a dead rabbit. I think they’d have peered into the life of the woman behind books in their very own bedrooms and felt satisfied.

I cannot express how much I admire this book. I’m going to read it aloud to my kids, adults though they may be, when they’re home for the holidays. I’m not kidding. Because the important thing about me is that I share the stories that move me most. I’m grateful to Mac Barnett, Sarah Jacoby, and Margaret Wise Brown for this beautiful reminder of that.

Reading Life: No Heart, No Moon


I’ve been making my way through the 2019 edition of The Best American Science and Nature Writing, edited by Sy Montgomery, and as is the case every year, it’s like taking a master class in communicating life and living and all the ways those two things happen in this world. I try to read a couple essays a week, but often pause, struck dumb by a piece that begs for a deeper study. That’s what happened with Matt Jones’ No Heart, No Moon.

Originally published in The Southern Review, the essay is available in its entirety at Jones’ website. It’s a stunning example of literary nonfiction, of taking the facts of a story and weaving them into something that is informative and also deeply meaningful. Art. I read the essay before bed, and re-read it the very next morning, out loud, with my morning tea. It’s gorgeously written, layered with connections that surprise and worry. I’ll be studying it for a while, sharing it with students and friends, pondering the mechanics and the message.

A Life in Books

When I started blogging back in 2006, my little apartment on the internet–a light-filled efficiency in a great neighborhood (LiveJournal!)–was called A Life in Books. I saw that title as a play on words, a way to categorize posts about my life as a working writer, which was then only just starting, and my life as a reader, too. Every post was titled with the name of a book, one I was reading to research a new project, or for pleasure, or with my three (then) young kids. Over time, it became clear that the books were just a way for me to connect to other things going on in my life at the time, and I was obsessed and pleased with the interesting ways books and thoughts and life influenced one another.

As always happens, though, life changed. My kids got older, and my working world got busy, and this, and that. Blogging became a sometimes affair. I left LiveJournal for a place with more space, built an entire author website, took on more work than I had hours in the day. You get it, right? I was still reading, but I no longer had (or took?) the time to reflect on those books and their place in my life, on the ways the work of other writers shaped my thinking, or inspired ideas, or entertained me. Such, too, is a life in books, I guess.

But, again, change. My kids are two young men and one young woman mostly off in their own places reading their own books. I’m still writing, still reading, but also teaching, and nowhere is it clearer to me how important reading is than in a classroom with writers. So much of what I know about writing–I’d say all of what I know about writing–I soaked up by reading the work of other writers.

All to say, I’m dusting things off here, spit-shining tables, sweeping up the cobwebs, thinking about how to better use all the spaces at my disposal. I’ll continue to post updates on upcoming books and essays and appearances here, of course. But I’m also going to share my reading life again, the blog posts that make me think, the articles and essays that thrill me, the books that paper, spark, and inspire this life of mine.

Of Moths and Cousins

National Moth Week may be over for 2019, but I have so many more images to share. These pictures were all sent to me by friends and relatives who’ve been inspired to stop and look at the incredible moths that live in their part of the world. Like these ones.

First up this week, my cousins Keri and Tracy, who were wowed by a small-eyed sphinx moth that showed up on Tracy’s front door in Massachusetts back in June:

I can’t say the girls were super excited to know its name, and I don’t know if all my moth enthusiasm convinced them to hang out a sheet with collecting lights. (This is doubtful!) But I can tell you that Keri continues to send me moth photos. (I think she’s hooked!) This is an image she sent me just yesterday, from Georgia. It’s a pink-striped oakworm moth, I believe, and it’s a beauty.


You know what they say about cousins, right? They’re your first best moth-ing friends. Thanks for studying moths with me, Keri and Tracy. I hope we can do it in person one day soon. I’ll bring the lights. <3 <3

Happy National Moth Week!

Happy National Moth Week!

One of the interesting parts of writing a book about moth-watching, besides all the local moths I’ve gotten to know, is how many people reach out to me with photos of the insects they find in their own backyards. I find this thrilling, because it means there are a lot of curious people out there. The moths below, for example, were all found and photographed by friends who weren’t even looking for moths. But they recognized something interesting when it crossed their path, snapped a picture, and sought out more information.  

Which leads me to the hard part of finding these photos in my Inbox: I’m an amateur moth enthusiast and most of the time I have no clue what the insect in question is! But I have a lot of field guides—print and online, and I always have fun looking into it. Here are a couple photographs sent to me by friends in the northeastern US this summer, including two that came in just today. I hope they inspire you to look for moths in your neighborhood!

This image was sent to me by my friend Amelia, who woke one morning to find these gorgeous luna moths (Actias luna) hanging out at her door. They were surely attracted to the porch lights which, for the record, are fit with regular old lightbulbs. You don’t need fancy blacklights to attract moths! (Although blacklights will definitely increase the number of moths that visit you.)
This moth was found by my friend Mariano on his porch in central Massachusetts, at about 2am. I had no idea what it was, but with the help of iNaturalist (see comment below), I was able to zero in on similar-looking moths seen in the same part of Massachusetts recently. Based on that list, I think this is Robin’s carpenterworm moth (Prionoxystus robiniae).
This moth was spotted by Becky and her family (who happen to star in YOU’RE INVITED TO A MOTH BALL!) during a visit to Cape Cod. At first I told Becky I thought it was a Giant Leopard Moth, although its wings looked funny, as if all the scales had rubbed off. As I told her that, a little alarm went off in my head; I thought I might have told someone else that same thing recently. (See next photo.) A little additional research online led me to the correct identification: Leopard Moth (no “Giant” … Zeuzera pyrina). I think. 
🙂
This picture came to me in a text from my daughter, who was hanging out at a skate park at the time. She and her friends found it under the park lights after dark and I told her, “I think this is a Giant Leopard Moth, but it kinda looks funny.” I left it there, but a later moth (see previous photo) helped me realize my error. Now that I’ve mis-ID’d this Leopard Moth (Zeuzera pyrina) twice, I think it’ll stick with me.
Last but not least, this beauty sent to me by my favorite tennis player of all time, Trisha. Her text said, “Not sure what it is or why it is stuck to my window, but it made me think of you.” Ha. I don’t know why it decided to land on her window either, but I do know it’s not a moth. It’s a Red Admiral butterfly! 

Coming April 2020 …

On April 7, 2020, you’re invited to an epic nighttime adventure. That’s the day my next picture book, illustrated by Ellen Harasimowicz and edited by Karen Boss at Charlesbridge Publishing, will fly into this world.

If you’ve tuned in to my recent moth adventures, here or on Instagram, this is the book that’ll help you and your favorite curious young explorers create moth adventures just like them in your own backyards. YOU’RE INVITED TO A MOTH BALL is written especially for the K-3 crowd, but if you’re reading this post, there’s something in its pages for you, too.

Revealing a new book cover is a delight that only comes ’round once every few years, so I’m going to be celebrating for weeks. The book may not be available until next spring, but there are moths out there right now, people.

Party on!

Edited to add: You’ll be able to purchase this book at your favorite local independent bookstore in April 2020, or possibly before. SUPPORT YOUR INDIES! You can also pre-order now through Amazon. Thank you!

What the Ocean Carries

I’m thrilled to share a link to my newest essay, an exploration of our plastic world and the things I’ve learned about it while writing books for young readers. It was published in Flyway: Journal of Writing and Environment just last week, and you can read it here.

Thanks for reading, and please feel free to share the link!

Flyway: Journal of Writing and Environment

Flyway is an online journal housed at Iowa State University that publishes fiction, nonfiction, and poetry “that explores the many complicated facets of the word environment.” Check it out. Come May, you’ll find an essay I wrote in its pages, an essay that won their 2018 Notes from the Field Nonfiction contest. I’m pretty excited about this, so chances are good that I’ll remind you when it’s published. 🙂