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[CCBC-Net] What books changed your life?
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From: Sheila A Welch <sheilawelch>
Date: Thu, 1 Jun 2006 13:43:08 -0500
Hello,
Sorry for posting late. This topic has brought back so many memories of the books I read (or that were read to me) as a child. I had rheumatic fever several times, and am grateful to my mother's friend who did not give me jigsaw puzzles, which I hated and whose pieces got lost in the covers, but books. I spent most of second grade in bed, convalescing. I remember opening a gift book and reading the first line, "Where's Papa going with that ax?" CHARLOTTE'S WEB had just been published, and I knew immediately that this was what books were meant to be -- totally different from the Dick and Jane readers of first grade. I wish I still had that book, but the following year, my mother returned to teaching and took most of our family's children's books with her to the school, which had no library. She read CHARLOTTE'S WEB to so many fourth grade classes, my copy fell apart and had to be replaced . When I was bedridden again in fourth grade, my mother's friend brought a whole box of books that her own children had outgrown. The ones I remember loving include THE SECRET GARDEN, THE PRINCESS AND THE GOBLIN, and several of the Mary Poppins books. In my fifth grade classroom, I discovered a worn copy of a book that transported me to another place. I searched for that book for years, not recalling the author's name. (I now own a copy of the reissued edition of Nesbit's THE ENCHANTED CASTLE, illustrated by Paul Zelinsky.) In fifth grade (and over and over since then), I read MY FRIEND FLICKA and the two sequels, which I've always thought of as much more than simply "horse stories." Around the same age, I became addicted to the Winnie-the Pooh books, and everyone in my family knows that I abhor the Disney versions of those wonderful characters, captured to perfection by E.H. Shepard in his scratchy pen-and-ink sketches.
I remember the illustrations in all of these books quite clearly. I always loved to draw and was inspired by the art work in books. Wesley Dennis's horses, Kurt Wiese's ducks, Gustaf Tenggren's Poky Little Puppy, Garth William's pigs, sheep, geese, and rats (who could render a better Templeton?), N.C. Wyeth's people and deer, Clare Turlay Newberry's cats .
. . all enchanted me as a child. Someone else on the list said that her recollection of the art is more vivid than what's in the books. I've found that to be true sometimes, when I've gone back to look at some of my childhood favorites. That could be partly due to later editions being printed from worn plates, I think. The colors in recent editions of THE POKY LITTLE PUPPY seem softer than the cover illustration. But memory is funny. I could swear the book had an illustration of that spider, creeping down (or is it up?) the hill, yet there's none in the copy I now own.
I don't think anyone mentioned THE YEARLING, which I loved (and hated for the ending), but also introduced me to other books by Rawlings as I entered junior high. There, for the first time, was a school library, and I found many books that I enjoyed. Some, I realized later were classics or by well respected authors, such as WHITE FANG, THE MAGICIAN'S NEPHEW, and Rumor Godden's AN EPISODE OF SPARROWS. Other's were obscure books that made a lasting impression on me. I've been able to purchase a number of these books and other out-of-print favorites from my childhood through used book stores located on the Internet. One of my most treasured is THE JUMPING LION'S OF BORNEO, by J.W. Dunne, illustrated by Irene Robinson with wonderful drawings, which I now realize were probably done as lithographs, sketched directly on stone before being printed. My husband introduced me to his childhood favorite, THE PALEFACE REDSKINS by Jackson, with her own whimsical pen drawings, and I enjoyed sharing it with our children.
Some books I haven't searched for but live on in my mind's eye. JOAN WANTED A KITTY, whose author and illustrator's names I can't recall, had soft pencil drawings that depicted the little girl and her black housekeeper. Even as a preschooler, I realized it was unusual to see an African American in a book. (This was in the late 1940s and early 1950s.) We also owned a title by Marguerite De Angeli, called, I think, BRIGHT APRIL about a black child. I am grateful to my mother for exposing me to those books even if, today, they might be considered racist to some degree. I lived in a rural area of Pennsylvania, but new houses were springing up, and we were fortunate to have a black family living just down the lane. But I didn't realize the blatant racism in many of the books I read, such as one I loved called MISS KELLY about a talking, reading cat. It's one of the titles I've located and purchased through the Internet. I didn't recall at all how the monkeys all talked in what sounds suspiciously like a "black" dialect.
Several people have mentioned Walter Farley's horse stories. I gobbled up his books, and my older sister was a huge fan and also an aspiring author. She wrote to him, and they corresponded for several years. When she was twelve, and I six, he invited us to visit him at his country home
near where we lived in Pennsylvania. I recall going there at least twice and being impressed with him as much in person as on the page. He was so kind, helpful, and encouraging with young writers, and I read somewhere that he saved every single fan letter he ever received.
Well, as anyone who's still reading can see, this has been a topic close to my heart. How did these books change my life? I majored in Fine Arts in college, became a teacher, sharing books with my students and later with my seven children and now with my grandchildren. Inspired by the wonderful books of my childhood, (and after having heart surgery to replace the heart valve damaged by rheumatic fever), I've realized my goal of writing and illustrating my own children's books.
Sheila Kelly Welch
Received on Thu 01 Jun 2006 01:43:08 PM CDT
Date: Thu, 1 Jun 2006 13:43:08 -0500
Hello,
Sorry for posting late. This topic has brought back so many memories of the books I read (or that were read to me) as a child. I had rheumatic fever several times, and am grateful to my mother's friend who did not give me jigsaw puzzles, which I hated and whose pieces got lost in the covers, but books. I spent most of second grade in bed, convalescing. I remember opening a gift book and reading the first line, "Where's Papa going with that ax?" CHARLOTTE'S WEB had just been published, and I knew immediately that this was what books were meant to be -- totally different from the Dick and Jane readers of first grade. I wish I still had that book, but the following year, my mother returned to teaching and took most of our family's children's books with her to the school, which had no library. She read CHARLOTTE'S WEB to so many fourth grade classes, my copy fell apart and had to be replaced . When I was bedridden again in fourth grade, my mother's friend brought a whole box of books that her own children had outgrown. The ones I remember loving include THE SECRET GARDEN, THE PRINCESS AND THE GOBLIN, and several of the Mary Poppins books. In my fifth grade classroom, I discovered a worn copy of a book that transported me to another place. I searched for that book for years, not recalling the author's name. (I now own a copy of the reissued edition of Nesbit's THE ENCHANTED CASTLE, illustrated by Paul Zelinsky.) In fifth grade (and over and over since then), I read MY FRIEND FLICKA and the two sequels, which I've always thought of as much more than simply "horse stories." Around the same age, I became addicted to the Winnie-the Pooh books, and everyone in my family knows that I abhor the Disney versions of those wonderful characters, captured to perfection by E.H. Shepard in his scratchy pen-and-ink sketches.
I remember the illustrations in all of these books quite clearly. I always loved to draw and was inspired by the art work in books. Wesley Dennis's horses, Kurt Wiese's ducks, Gustaf Tenggren's Poky Little Puppy, Garth William's pigs, sheep, geese, and rats (who could render a better Templeton?), N.C. Wyeth's people and deer, Clare Turlay Newberry's cats .
. . all enchanted me as a child. Someone else on the list said that her recollection of the art is more vivid than what's in the books. I've found that to be true sometimes, when I've gone back to look at some of my childhood favorites. That could be partly due to later editions being printed from worn plates, I think. The colors in recent editions of THE POKY LITTLE PUPPY seem softer than the cover illustration. But memory is funny. I could swear the book had an illustration of that spider, creeping down (or is it up?) the hill, yet there's none in the copy I now own.
I don't think anyone mentioned THE YEARLING, which I loved (and hated for the ending), but also introduced me to other books by Rawlings as I entered junior high. There, for the first time, was a school library, and I found many books that I enjoyed. Some, I realized later were classics or by well respected authors, such as WHITE FANG, THE MAGICIAN'S NEPHEW, and Rumor Godden's AN EPISODE OF SPARROWS. Other's were obscure books that made a lasting impression on me. I've been able to purchase a number of these books and other out-of-print favorites from my childhood through used book stores located on the Internet. One of my most treasured is THE JUMPING LION'S OF BORNEO, by J.W. Dunne, illustrated by Irene Robinson with wonderful drawings, which I now realize were probably done as lithographs, sketched directly on stone before being printed. My husband introduced me to his childhood favorite, THE PALEFACE REDSKINS by Jackson, with her own whimsical pen drawings, and I enjoyed sharing it with our children.
Some books I haven't searched for but live on in my mind's eye. JOAN WANTED A KITTY, whose author and illustrator's names I can't recall, had soft pencil drawings that depicted the little girl and her black housekeeper. Even as a preschooler, I realized it was unusual to see an African American in a book. (This was in the late 1940s and early 1950s.) We also owned a title by Marguerite De Angeli, called, I think, BRIGHT APRIL about a black child. I am grateful to my mother for exposing me to those books even if, today, they might be considered racist to some degree. I lived in a rural area of Pennsylvania, but new houses were springing up, and we were fortunate to have a black family living just down the lane. But I didn't realize the blatant racism in many of the books I read, such as one I loved called MISS KELLY about a talking, reading cat. It's one of the titles I've located and purchased through the Internet. I didn't recall at all how the monkeys all talked in what sounds suspiciously like a "black" dialect.
Several people have mentioned Walter Farley's horse stories. I gobbled up his books, and my older sister was a huge fan and also an aspiring author. She wrote to him, and they corresponded for several years. When she was twelve, and I six, he invited us to visit him at his country home
near where we lived in Pennsylvania. I recall going there at least twice and being impressed with him as much in person as on the page. He was so kind, helpful, and encouraging with young writers, and I read somewhere that he saved every single fan letter he ever received.
Well, as anyone who's still reading can see, this has been a topic close to my heart. How did these books change my life? I majored in Fine Arts in college, became a teacher, sharing books with my students and later with my seven children and now with my grandchildren. Inspired by the wonderful books of my childhood, (and after having heart surgery to replace the heart valve damaged by rheumatic fever), I've realized my goal of writing and illustrating my own children's books.
Sheila Kelly Welch
Received on Thu 01 Jun 2006 01:43:08 PM CDT
