In this ongoing series, author and illustrator Caroline Magerl shares the the adventure of her US book tour, full of drawings and musings. Visit carolinemagerl.com/events to learn about more of Caroline’s events!

M

y last post left off in Ohio, where I said a sad farewell to the folks at the Mazza Museum.

As we drove along the flat lands, that part of the country slowly gave way to gentle rises and eventually heaved up into some lovely wooded hills of Virginia. These hills were covered beautifully in bare trees and dark angular conifers. The roads, by contrast, were a river of heavy trucks pouring along the highway toward the east coast.

I spent most of the journey spying into the woods, sketching and marveling at the wildlife; an eagle here, a fox there.

I even saw bears as the folk in Ohio had described … or perhaps I had just seen one too many bushes?

Cape Cod

We pushed on until late in the evening with the happy thought that I would see the fabled Cape Cod lighthouse before turning in for the night. We found our way into Falmouth, glimpsing the main street as we drove on up toward the cape.

The houses became more sparse and the woods thicker as we drove along the narrow and undulating road.

Each little gully we travelled down was preceded by a din of frogs. As we bottomed out and began to climb, the trill reached a crescendo. This experience was repeated through a series of gullies; the real frog hollows.

The lighthouse itself appeared quite suddenly out of the thick night, the only real light was its own strobe. I should mention that the locals call this landmark Nobska Lighthouse as there are many lighthouses in the area, but this was the only one for mine. We parked and bundled up the path toward the gate which clacked against the gatepost in a fairly punishing breeze. The only thing for it was to stand behind the tower itself to avoid the wind and crane our necks up to see the loom. I touched the smooth white wall and then put my frostbitten fingers back in my pockets. I have always wanted to see this incredible piece of maritime history, and now I didn’t.

Cape Cod Light House will remain in my memory thus…

The next morning we woke in Falmouth which was still cold and wet … so of course, coffee and off to a bookstore.

I have always felt that the real beauty of a bookstore was the contents within and I must confess to being personally enamoured with more chaotic shop offerings.

However, if I were to seek a shrine to house books in then Eight Cousins Bookstore would be my first choice.

Entering the store through a breath fog, I stood in awe as light flooded in through the large windows at the front of the store.

And the books were beautifully, dare I say it, neatly shelved throughout. I met with Mary Fran Buckley (fiction buyer) and was delighted to know that a copy of my book was on hand. As I stood there signing and doodling away on the title page, it was heartening to be invited into conversations between the staff and buyers at the sales desk. I’m always up for a good book chat.

The weather had turned substantially colder, and the drizzle turned to rain. It was becoming more miserable by the hour, and perfect therefore for our next stop … a visit to the house of Edward Gorey in Yarmouth.

It was a little hard to reconcile a creator who was as deliberately weird as Gorey, having an address as twee as number Eight Strawberry Lane, but that too was perfect.

On the soggy lawn of the house, a wire sculpture of the Doubtful Guest stood rooted to the ground by a vine making a mild attempt to thrive in its mesh.

The house itself is striking, not large but with that quirky detail which seems a feature of the houses in the area. It is as if, within a sense of formal style, oddity is encouraged and celebrated. I had heard that the House and Museum were not yet open for the ‘summer’ season but peered through the door anyway. I was a little taken aback when the door opened and a small and mildly irritated man asked me if he could help. ‘No! , we could not enter’ and ‘No! , it didn’t make a difference that we had come from the southern hemisphere and were wet and deserving’. It was an altogether depressing experience. Perfect!

Connecticut

One of the upsides of the internet is that you do find some amazing people out there. I’ve had the frequent experience of being in communication with people, who given half a chance, I would love to meet. So it was with some anticipation that I sat in RJ Julia’s bookstore waiting to meet Annabelle Howard in the town of Madison, CT.

I recognized her immediately as she came in and was quietly pleased she was wearing a blue velvet coat. This was going to be fun.

Annabelle founded Reading Without borders, which is a non-profit that uses Google+ communities to match volunteers with teachers making reading memorable, sociable and fun. It is a truly global exercise and there is room for anyone interested. I first saw her offerings where a couple of hundred kids participated online in an adaptation of Macbeth (Best you see it for yourself!).

Over coffee, we hatched plans for future collaborations and talked so long that we were eventually kicked out of the shop … after closing time. There will more on this coming; ‘Reading Without Borders’ that is, not the coffee shop.

Annabelle introduced me to RJJulia’s bookstore before I left home and I was fortunate to be invited to take part in the RJJulia festival of Children’s Literature at the Davis Street Arts and Academics School in New Haven. The other three authors this year were Jerry Craft, Tommy Greenwald and Farhana Zia.

The atmosphere was loudly upbeat, partially due to the fact this was a gym hall but mostly because it was filled with a large number of children. The children were plainly having a ball, and I got to meet plenty of them at the signing table. As someone who spends most on my working life quietly toiling alone in my studio hollow, I must admit to some trepidation when first attending festivals. However this whole experience was uplifting. The fact that it was so well organized and well supported made it even more special and I am very proud to have been a small part of it.

As always I find myself thanking many people but it was particularly heartwarming to see RJJulia walk the talk with their Read to Grow program. I have never signed so many books at one sitting before and it was wonderful to know these were destined for kids so deserving. Through RJJulia over 100,000 free books have been distributed to children across that state, directly and through partnerships with hundreds of community programs.

Massachusetts

The next morning, I was delighted to watch snow fall while eating breakfast. The locals seemed less enthusiastic. By lunch, the snow had become much heavier as did the local mood.

One of the first impressions I had of the Eric Carle Museum was that it presents as a destination. The fact that the building was designed and purpose built on a beautiful site undoubtedly helps create that impact, but in this case, it all comes together and succeeds very handsomely. I could not wait to get indoors, and not just because of the icicles forming on the end of my nose. As I entered, the space opened upwards and the view was along the length of the building. The gallery spaces full of original illustrations lead off to the left and the well stocked bookshop is on the right. Net to this was the art room where I was to spend the next couple of happy hours.

It was such a pleasure to work in a space as lovely as this, with large windows looking over an apple orchard which was still being dusted by new snow. I was pretty excited about the snow but the locals plainly viewed this reprise of winter weather the way you feel when you can’t quite shake a cold… Therefore, I was very happy that the effort had been made to come along to the event, and the turnout was wonderful. We set to with a plentiful array of crayons, pencils and paint, and for the umpteenth time I experienced that noise that is both busy and quiet, children drawing.

I am always pleased to see how many adults share their passion for children’s books. It pleased me no end when Sussanah Richards (Sussing out books) Professor of Education at Eastern Connecticut State University showed her support by dropping in. I would have loved more time to speak with her, but I suspect there is ever enough time with all her energy.

The one thing I saw over and over on this trip was parents bringing their children along for the express purpose of engaging them in picture books and in art and language. It is a very heartening thing to be part of, and that the Eric Carle Museum supports the artform of picture books and its rich history with style and generosity.

I even scored a signed copy.

My first introduction to the Eric Carle Museum was courtesy of Dr Belle Alderman of the National Centre for Australian Children’s Literature. I understand that Belle is, as always, investigating ways to promote Australian Children’s Literature and for mine, we need such museums as the Eric Carle and Mazza in Australia.

I was a late comer to social media. As a card carrying Luddite, I have a natural suspicion towards any form of technology. However, I admit to a slight conversion. I am someone who needs my own private space when working, but equally it has been enjoyable to get out of the studio and chat occasionally even if it is in a cyberspace kind of way.

On the morning before we left the Amherst area, I posted a diary sketch of the nearby town of Northampton.

Before I knew it, I had the unexpected pleasure of meeting author, Stephanie Greene a FB friend who lives there. A couple of mugs of coffee later and I soon realized this was another of those conversations which could have gone on for days. You know that you are having fun when Americans turn around to see who the loud Australian is. Not for the first time, I was struck by the generosity of those working in the children’s book industry. There is no doubt that times are tough, but rather than hide their knowledge, they freely share a wealth of experience and so it was with Stephanie. Book marketing was discussed; I only added this to show it wasn’t all fun.

Connecticut

We set off to our next destination, only four hours drive away. By this time the snow had begun to fall in earnest. After driving past the fifth accident we decided to change lower ambitions somewhat and settled for a closer motel. This was near the University of Connecticut, where I was to meet Julie Danielson of Seven Impossible Things before Breakfast Blog the next day.

My first view of Julie was through the large glass windows of the archive room where precious things are kept. Julie was ghosting backwards and forwards in the otherwise empty room, ferrying items in white gloved hands. After the gentleman at the desk confirmed that the lady in the room was indeed Julie and with some waving and gesticulating through the window, she emerged and together we went off to the uni cafeteria for lunch. Julie was at the university to research the James Marshall Papers at the Dodd Centre and it was my good luck to have met there.

It was delightful to hear about her blog and as anyone who has started their own blog knows, there is a huge amount of time and effort involved. Yet Julie’s approach has a simplicity that belies the quality of her offerings. Her words to me were that she continues the blog as a hobby, just like some people might paint or knit … there is no schedule and she only posts what she likes. The thought came to me much later that integrity will always show in any endeavor and Julie has a decade of top shelf blogging to prove it. We discussed our children, the work she was doing here and the experience of driving in the spring snowstorms … I noticed then, it is hard to admit to living somewhere called the Sunshine Coast, where the main road hazard are galas eating the windscreen wiper rubber off your car. It was well worth the trial by snow to meet her and see this beautiful campus. I do however feel a need to embellish my rubber eating galah story, a little, my neighborhood never felt less punk.

Even the seagulls are enormous here.

Lastly, before I leave this leg of my journey, I would like to make a mention of Cathy Ballou Mealey. Cathy is among other things a picturebook writer and reviewer who graciously mentioned my latest book in Good Reads with Ronna. After conversing by email, I had very much wanted to meet her during this leg of the journey, unfortunately scheduling didn’t allow. Among other things, I wanted to ask her what it’s like to have such a great name … people can’t even pronounce mine.

The next leg of my journey travels to New York City and Princeton with more bookstores large and small as well as agent and publisher.