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9-06-2007 Jim Atwell I was, of course, bedazzled. My delight wasn't dimmed just because the letters were a school assignment, overseen by Anne's cousin Mary-Ellen Walsh. Mary-Ellen, a bright, witty, and creative woman, teaches nine-to-eleven-yearolds up in Erin, Ontario. She had combined reading chapters from the book with a required letter-writing assignment, and I was the beneficiary. Working against a model for appropriate contents, Mary-Ellen had her charges produce, first a rough draft, then an edited version, then what Shakespeare would have called the "faire copie." The younger kids printed, and the older ones used a sometimes tortured cursive. I loved reading the letters, and looking at the accompanying pictures, too. For Mary-Ellen, had also wangled an art assignment into the package; I got wonderfully colorful paintings of barns, farmyards, and grinning pigs that make me laugh out loud every time I look at them. Of course, the first time I read the letters, I knew I had to share them with you. And so, below are some excerpts. Mary-Ellen said that "This was the first letter they had ever written (except to Santa), and the lesson was about the components of a friendly letter." She added that, "Any story that mentions ‘poop' is a great hit with this age group, so the ‘Two Sheep Tales' was a universal favourite." This was confirmed by the number of students who cited Tom Deason's helping me bind the new lambs' tails and ending up plastered with the very poop the kids so love. As the book has it (surely by now you've bought and read it!), Tom had kindly followed me to the sheep shed to help put a heavy elastic band on each lamb's tail. The process was simple: "I'll hold the lamb under my left arm, Tom, with the pliers in my right hand. You straighten the tail, and I'll slide on the pliers. Then you slide the band off the prongs, onto the tail." It all went well till the last lamb. As the book says, "I guess that sudden tightening on its tail just made other parts go slack. For an instant, though, I felt I was cradling a blunderbuss. And Tom, intent on his job, was right in the line of fire." I'm still embarrassed to remember the effect produced on that kind man. But Mary-Ellen's kids thought it was hilarious. Courtney Park wrote that her favorite part was "when you had to remove the lamb's tail with an elastic and it turned into a machine gun." She then added an arresting detail of her own: "My dog chews its tail and he ate one inch of it." Illustrating her letter was a drawing of a bright sun beaming down on a pen holding a smiling, tailless lamb. Or perhaps dog. I am, by the way, treating you to the often imaginative spelling that survived all the editing and revising. Probably at some point, Mary-Ellen decided it was too colorful to correct, and that I'd enjoy it. Indeed I did. Christopher McDonald wrote to me, he said, "because I wread your book and I thought it was really funny ... when the lamb turned into a machine gun." I presume Mary-Ellen, reading to the kids, substituted "machine gun" for "blunderbuss." It was an apt substitute, and so effective that Shane (no last name) illustrated his letter with a stick-figure me holding a bulbous sheep and, close by, a weakly smiling Tom Deason in orange shirt and green pants. Tom, arms thrown up, is being spattered by the sheep and, according to the balloon over his head, is shouting "ono!" Christopher McDonald's drawing suggests, I think, a future in drafting. His red barn and brown fence were carefully scribed with a ruler, and arrows and labels identify the major elements: "sun," "barn," and "electrick fenc." Beyond the "fenc" is a beige pig studying a dead bird. Still another chapter illustrated. Anne, by the way, loves the color and spontaneity of the kids' work, and it's going to be tough sledding, getting her to illustrate the next book. She'll just want to ship the manuscript off to Erin, Ontario. Young Wyatt Roberts set a friendly tone in his letter by saying that "I am like you, because once I made a collection of books from scrap paper, construction paper, and newpaper." He did add that "some differences between you and I are, I play hockey, I'm in gr. 4, and you are an author." (Wish I could play hockey, Wyatt; and being in grade four sounds just fine.) Only one slightly negative note appeared in the whole stack of letters. Justyne, who, like Madonna, must feel that a one-word name, sufficiently dramatic, is all that's needed, said my book turned her away from a life's ambition. "I have always wanted to live on a farm but now that I'v seen how much work it is now I don't. Hopefully I don't ever have to live on a farm." But for candor, it's hard to beat Eric Kirk: "Most of your stories are funny but some wern't so funny but still a bit." Then, for fear of offending, he added, "I espesally liked your book. sincerly, Eric." What a treat, getting some sense of these wonderful kids! I'd love to meet Brandon Collins, who explained that "my favourite thing is dirte bikeing and my favourite food is Kraft dinner." And how about matter-offact Sarah Humphries? She announced, "I am ten years old, about 1.5 meters tall, dirty blond hair, I am in grade 5, and I am a girl." Then she added, "I really liked your book ... and I hope that you make anouther book." I think I'd better make anouther one, Sarah, if only for you. Meanwhile, I'm going to display Joshua Clarke- Wall's farm panorama, with barns, fields, and tractor; and, in the foreground, two roundeyed, smiling pink pigs. It really deserves gallery space, but our fridge door will have to do. Read about Jim Atwell's new book "From Fly Creek - Celebrating Life in Leatherstocking Country" at Jim Atwell. com. |
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