As adult readers, we understand how books can transport us to different worlds, open our eyes to other points of view, shift our thoughts and opinions, soften our hearts, and expand our minds with new information. We can look back and reflect on how books have changed us. But as children, we don’t think about all those incredible benefits. We just instinctively know that books are magic.
When I was a child, reading was my happy place. I would spend hours with my nose in a book. Go outside and play? No, thank you. I had a story to read. I remember being devastated by Charlotte’s Web, intrigued by Choose Your Own Adventure stories, and fascinated by the Oz books. And I read every Nancy Drew mystery (in order, of course). Even before I could read independently, I flipped through my favorite picture book so often it was held together by tape. Books cast their magic spell on me from the moment my mother first read to me.
But what about the magician behind the curtain? Did I think about who created the books I enjoyed? Did I realize there was a writer who wove those words I clung to? Until I was about eight years old, I most certainly didn’t. I was so enthralled by the magic; I wasn’t aware of who was waving the wand.
But that all changed in third grade. One day, my teacher shared a picture book with the class – Norbert Nipkin by G. Robert McConnell and Steve Pilcher. Mr. Pilcher’s art immediately drew me in with the terrifying Zlogs and charming Nipkins, and Mr. McConnell’s rhyming text about the tiny creatures of the forest reminded me of summers at the cottage. So when my teacher asked us to write our own stories about the Nipkins, I was inspired. But it wasn’t your average homework assignment. It was a contest. And who would be the judge? None other than Mr. McConnell himself!
I was amazed there was a real person behind those words and that he was going to visit our class to read the story and answer our questions. But most of all, I remember being struck by his generosity. I was excited that the person who created these wonderful characters and this fantastical world would share them with me in this way. I know I worked hard on my story, but I don’t know if it rhymed or where I took the plot. I wish I still had a copy to see. But I know I wanted to impress my teacher, to impress Mr. McConnell, and to live in that forest by the creek.
We handed in our stories and counted down to visit day. Mr. McConnell had the class abuzz. It was like meeting a rock star. There was a real person behind this book we loved, and we were going to sit in the same room. I hung on to every word as he read the story. Then it was time to announce the winner of the writing contest. I remember holding my breath as he showed us the prize: a signed copy of the book and a two-inch high plastic Norbert figurine. What a score. Then he said the words I had been waiting for. “The winner is Stephanie.” I won the contest! I can still recall how happy I felt. How proud. I still have my prize.
I wish I could say that was the day I decided to become a writer. In retrospect, it feels like the universe was speaking to me. But although I’ve always loved writing, I didn’t decide to make that my career path until decades later after a circuitous route through academia and dog training. But I think the seed was planted. The idea that there are people behind the magic of books, and it was possible for me to be one of them. That the thoughts, dreams, and opinions in my head could be shared with others through my words.
I was reminded of winning that writing contest a few months ago during a book signing event for my latest middle grade nonfiction book Calculating Chimpanzees, Brainy Bees, and Other Animals with Mind-Blowing Mathematical Abilities (MIT Kids Press, illustrated by Jaclyn Sinquett). A young boy, about eight years old, hesitantly approached my table. His parent mentioned he had never met an author, so I introduced myself and offered him a bookmark. He relaxed and started chatting about his sister, books, and how excited he was to meet me. It was adorable and sweet. But mostly humbling.
The shoe was on the other foot. I was the magician behind the book curtain. For some reason, that had never occurred to me before that boy’s awe. I felt the weight of responsibility – to write books that make an impact, shift thoughts, and expand minds. To get it right for young people. I hope I’ve done that in my books to date. I hope I continue to do that in the books to come. But more importantly, I hope I’ve planted a seed in somebody the way that visit from G. Robert McConnell planted a seed in me. To show them that one day they too can be the creator of words, the teller of stories, and the weaver of magic.
Stephanie Gibeault is the author of the middle grade nonfiction books Calculating Chimpanzees, Brainy Bees, and Other Animals with Mind-Blowing Mathematical Abilities; Making Sense of Dog Senses: How Our Furry Friends Experience the World; and Can’t Get Enough Dog Stuff as well as the picture book Toby Tootles. She lives just outside of Toronto, Canada where she has daily battles with her ancient cat over access to her keyboard.