I have always loved Baba Yaga, the Russian witch with the iron nose who flies around the forest in a mortar and pestle. When my HarperCollins editor asked me to tell a Baba Yaga story
Animal Train
I had written an early version of ANIMAL TRAIN called ALL ABOARD THE ANIMAL TRAIN which I tried to sell–unsuccessfully–for a number of years. It lacked something, but I wasn’t smart enough or alert enough to understand what it needed.
Bedtime for Bunny
I have always wanted to write an original board book for very young children. My agent challenged me because–so she said–I tend to be a writer of very sophisticated books. I think she saw it as a stretching exercise. So I tackled the area–in rhyme,
Time for Naps
I had written two board books already–ANIMAL TRAIN and BEDTIME FOR BUNNY. Enjoying the form (and the wonderful editor at Little Simon) I decided to try another. I wrote a book about a little dinosaur resisting naptime. But it
Horizons
I love working with my son Jason on books. His photos are so strong, so powerful, that their very existence pushes me to write poems to match them. When we were completing COLOR ME A RHYME, and my husband and I were
Firebird, The
I first came upon the story of Firebird in the ballet, when Maria Tallchief as the Firebird and Francisco Moncion as Prince Ivan performed in New York on November 27, 1949. The ballet was choreographed for the New York City Ballet Company by George Balanchine
Wild Wings
My family watches birds. It all began with my husband David, who is the original of Pa in OWL MOON. So when our youngest son Jason began his career as a nature photographer, bird pictures were part of his vast repertoire. So why has it taken
Grandma’s Hurrying Child
When my first grandchild, Maddison Jane Piatt, was born, I hurried across many states in a plane and then a taxi and made it with two hours to spare. I had been there at my daughter’s house the week before, helping her and her partner set up the baby’s room.
Welcome to the River of Grass
This is the fourth and I believe the last of the Welcome books, my poetic paean to various ecosystems. I have only been to the Everglades once, but it is a trip not forgotten. Thank goodness the powers that be are
Dear Mother, Dear Daughter
My daughter, Heidi, and I have always sent each other notes — sometimes quick little memos left on a pillow or inside a journal, or letters and postcards sent through the mail. Now that there is