it is a long, long summer and i don t have a contract, i said, maybe i ll try to write something, never written a picture book before. i sat at the word processor, i ll write my grandfather books. all 16 pages. it is usually 6 to 7 pages long. i sent it to my editor anne swarts. she was at thow publishing books. at the time she was at dial. she was right out of college and a reader. she wrote my manuscripts. she said it has possibility. there is a story in there but way too much going on. you have 3 kids, a grandmother, a grandfather, you got a bear, a snake, a wolf, and fox. a dog, cat, and a neighbor, way too much going on. if you d like to rewrite it and shorten it some what and i d be glad to look at it again. but that is not my grandfather s story. i can t do that. i thought i don t have a contract. i said i ll get rid of my brother and sister. [laughter]. and i ll keep myself. and i ll get rid of the wolf, bear, and snake and keep the fox because i like his voice. i dar
people sing praise songs. he was a gifted black smith. he is not remembered for that. he is best remembered for being a loving father. when his beloved wife died only after a year and embraced his newborn son, i will raise you myself. the elder women with argued against it saying you ll grow up wild without a gentle hand of a mother, a gentle hand to guide him. must divide by custom, take another wife or give the baby to a mother who is childless. how will you feed the baby? you have no milk to give. dinka would not change his mind. the tortoise doesn t have milk to give but knows how to take care of its young. shamelessly he tied the baby on his back like a woman and headed for his forge at the place where 7 generations of his clan had once stood. he set his feet firmly on the ground and called to earth, takoma, thank you for yielding up the ore from your underground storehouse of treasure. he lit the fire in his porch and called to fire, tokumbi thank you for making the ore
the andrew jackson hotel, we couldn t go to morten s cafeteria. there was a paramount theatre, we had to go in the back door, separate water fountains. it was a very negative experience. when i got to the library, right above the door, all are welcome. i could go in the front door. i could remember the librarian, she had a bonnet on the back of her head. very sensible shoes. i look at librarians today, that is how they look. she always spoke in a whisper. didn t talk out loud in the library. whispered. she was so kind to me that i loved librarians. when they ask me to do something, it is hard for me to say no. and that is why i flew in the dark at night from atlanta to come out here. [laughter]. but it is because of that generosity of the national public library. so i went there to get my books and i would bring them home and read all 3. then the next week i would take them back to the library. i would read often. when you read better, you read success. i credit the national
many others. let s go back to that front porch again. this time daddy james is the story teller. we sit at his feet and listen about stories about sara and pat and nollen. that is my brother, my sister, and me. we thought we were just as clever and smart and just as brave as the children in his story. he told stories vaguely familiar, but different some how because he told them his way. you see, i had no idea my grandfather was a functional illiterate and encouraged all 3 of us, his grandchildren to read. the way he encouraged me, he d say y all read to me what they taught you up at the schoolhouse today. i would whip out my dick and jane. see jane run. run, he endured that. he allowed me to read to him. i had no idea in other families the adults read to children. in my house, children read to the adults. imagine the confidence they gave me in my readings. i loved to read out loud. enjoyed it immensely. so i would read dick and jane all the way up to julius caesar. when i cam
place where 7 generations of his clan had once stood. he set his feet firmly on the ground and called to earth, takoma, thank you for yielding up the ore from your underground storehouse of treasure. he lit the fire in his porch and called to fire, tokumbi thank you for making the ore plyable for i might shape it. thank you for setting the iron and making it strong. dinka fanned the bellows and the fire rows began and called to win, thank you for revising fire and keeping my brow cooled in the heat of the day and lifting his arms in praise, dinka cried come now elders behold my beloved son. mother earth appears first ageless and forever beautiful, she kissed the baby and spoke softly, see how he grabs my finger. already strong like my mountain son. i a woman leaped into the air and swirled majestically in a flaming red. it is a sign he will be an inspired leader inspiring and courageous. she blew the child a warm kiss that made him cool. sang to the child in old lull hra byes