PO Box 3413
Wellington 6015
New Zealand
26 September 2007
Dear Friends,
Oh dear! That sort of thing can happen when my head is busy with a story, and I'm not the only author who can get a bit confused. A friend Justin Brown, had just finished three chapter books about a boy called William who is crazy about sport. Justin went into his local butcher's shop, looked around and said, "Don't you guys do fish and chips any more?" The butcher replied, "The fish shop is two doors down the road."
Margaret Mahy had a similar experience. She was thinking about a story when she cooked a pot of stew for a friend. She put the pot on the roof of her car while she unlocked the door, then got in and drove off. You can imagine what happened when she went around the first corner. Another author told me about that she was thinking of a story while she was unpacking her groceries, and she put the toilet rolls in the freezer.
It always surprises me that stories have such power that they make you forget where you are and what is happening around you. Often we can get so lost in a book that we forget time and place. Has that ever happened to you? Story absorbs us like a dream and we have difficulty waking up.
But now I've thought of an ending for the WishyWashy story. After the animals have been through the carwash, that scrubbing lady says, "You look so clean! You smell so sweet! We'll go to the cake shop for a treat." Then the last page will have something like this: Pink cakes! Yellow cakes! Green! Oh bliss! Nice Mrs Wishy-Washy! Here's a kiss! Three happy animals with cake around their mouths will try to show their gratitude. There! The story is finished. Now I can come down to earth and answer some letters from young friends.
Some of you have asked if I have new books coming out. Well, yes. I don't write so much these days, but a junior novel called "Chicken Feathers" will be published in New Zealand and the USA early in 2008. It's a story about a boy who lives on a chicken farm and has a pet hen called Semolina. Semolina talks like a parrot, but only to the boy so of course, no one believes him. This book has beautiful drawings by talented illustrator David Elliot, and there are two real people in the story. One is Elizabeth Miller who is a well known New Zealand story teller and the other is a little girl who was born while the book was being written.
Another book, beautifully illustrated by Gavin Bishop, is called "Snake and Lizard" and has just been published in New Zealand. These are stories about two unlikely creatures that manage to get along together most of the time. The stories are all about friendship and how that comes about when we make an effort to understand and respect our differences. I've dedicated this book to my husband Terry because, of all the books I've written, this is his favourite. He thinks he is a lot like Snake and I'm like Lizard. Maybe he is right.
If you could be an animal in a story, what would you choose to be? Think about that. Maybe you could even write a story about yourself disguised as an animal. But while you are thinking about the story, be careful how you answer the phone!
When you were young, did you have any imaginary playmates? A while ago I wrote a rhyme about some penguins a small boy invented to explain the way his bedroom and bathroom got in a mess. I'll add the rhyme to the end of this letter.
With love to you all, Joy Cowley
Penguins
There are penguins in the kitchen.
Mom doesn't know they're there.
They skate across the table
and do headstands on the chair.
But when they hear Mom's tappy steps,
they nudge and push each other.
"Let's get out of here! It's the mother!"
I hate it when those penguins
tumble in my bedroom door,
scattering my clothes and toys
and messing up the floor.
But when they hear Mom calling me,
they stop and say, "Oh bother!
Let's get out of here! It's the mother!"
They charge into the bathroom
and jump into my bath,
and when I say, "Please go away,"
they roll their eyes and laugh.
But when my Mom yells, "What's that noise!"
they shake and run for cover.
"Let's get out of here! It's the mother!"
Joy Cowley
