I will never look askance at a children's picture book again, or assume a novel is a larger undertaking simply because of it's substantial page weight. Apparently there is something to that "book by its cover" thing.
My little turtle story started as a mental exercise to see how much subtle enviromental information and child affirmation I could sneak into a bedtime story.
I'd had years of sliding information into oral bedtime stories, how hard could this be?
Much harder than I expected.
I set the draft aside in frustration until a friend at work picked it up and demanded I share it with other Moms there. I read it in the lunch room to a chorus of sighs and appreciative tears. The reaction, frankly, shocked me. This was just my little turtle.
Other than a hard shell and propensity to stick my neck out, I don't have much in common with my little protagonist, Seasell. I like warp speed and jamming everything I possibly can into each day. The idea of living in a shell has no appeal whatsoever to a claustrophic.
I knew my Seasell and liked him alright, but frankly we have never been as close as I am with the folks in my novels. They are complex, funny and all varieties of venal. He was a silly little turtle.
Until Anne showed me her initial drawings.
Seasell is not just adorable, he's got real personality. The whole book is 1,200 words. The first sketch added 10,000 words unspoken. With the first touch of watercolor, he became even more interesting. I had sold this turtle short.
I'm now the lesser of his two parents, but I'm very proud to have him in the family.
I gave Seasell my younger daughter's propensity to pull up the covers and sleep a little longer, but they have more in common than I thought. She's quiet, deliberate and very good at not calling attention to herself. If I want to know whether she's home, I check to see if her car is in the driveway. Jennine is not prone to large ideas, grand gestures or imposing her will on others. (these happen to be specialties of mine). She likes to mentally take things apart and put them back together in her mind to make them work for her. I'm pressing a mental "Jeopardy!" buzzer to instantly answer every question put before me.
Without detail, the last few weeks have been hell, probably the most painful and challenging of my life. There are no birthdays or other celebration causes on the horizon, so I was quite surprised to see Jennine come home with a package.
It contained two beautifully carved wood turtles for Anne and I. Jen said they came in as new merchandise at the shop where she works and she thought of us.
I don't know if I've ever received a more beautiful gift.
I think Aesop said something about not discounting the quiet and deliberate.
Apparently, he was right.
Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs