Books I Love: Where the Sidewalk Ends

Title
Where the Sidewalk Ends

Author
Shel Silverstein

I first read this book
about 1985

I have a powerful memory of my mother coming into my grandmother's back bedroom where I was playing one afternoon. She held a thick book in her hands.  The book's jacket was gone, leaving the brown cover with a darker brown scrawl pressed in it. I realized later this was the imprint of Shel Silverstein's signature. I've always thought it was impressive that his signature was pressed into the cover of a book.

Mom told me she wanted to share a book with me--a book of poetry. She stretched out beside me on the king-size bed and began reading some of the poems. I vividly remember her interpretation of "Sick."

I was hooked instantly.

Not only did I fall in love with Shel Silverstein's poetry, but I discovered a love of poetry in general.

The poetry I write is terrible. I simply do not think like a poet. I wish I did. Imagine being able to distill a complex emotion or thought into the confines of a poem.

Shel Silverstein and his poetry have fared me well. I've bonded with friends over our mutual love for his poems. I've performed his poems in poetry competitions.

One of my favorite memories of performing his work was when I read "Little Abigail and the Beautiful Pony" to a school group touring the library. (Technically, that poem is from A Light In the Attic, but I love that book, too.)

I was reading to this group of first or second graders, and I was having a blast.  I was reading with emotion and attitude and truly giving them a show when, from the front row, I hear one girl say to her friend, "She's crazy."

I don't know how I managed to stop myself from bursting out laughing when I heard that. Internally, I certainly was. I can only hope she delighted in my "crazy" performance and maybe even remembers it still.

But she was correct. I am crazy about poetry, and I love, love, love to share those feelings with others. Just as my mother did with me.

Louis Sachar: An Appreciation

I first discovered Louis Sachar's work in elementary school when I read Sideways Stories from Wayside School. I don't recall how exactly I had a copy of the book--either I bought it for myself at a book fair or my mother bought it for me somewhere. I should have been knee deep in my "biography phase" at the time, so I don't even know why I read it. But I did.

And I loved it.

It was silly and sad, ridiculous and oh-so-real. Wayside School was utterly fictitious, but the children in that classroom on the 30th floor were utterly human.

I devoured Sideways Stories from Wayside School (seriously, it needs to be a TV show on Netflix). I discovered something new every time I read it.

As I grew older, I completed my own elementary, junior high and high school educations. I went on to college and then on to graduate school.

During my first year of grad school, I turned on the Today show and saw Katie Couric talking to that year's Newbery and Caldecott recipients (sadly, they no longer do this). Imagine my surprise when I saw Louis Sachar talking about his novel Holes.

It sounded amazing, so I went out and bought a copy. And it was amazing!

Intricately plotted, heartbreakingly real. I found the story of Stanley Yelnats and the other poor boys at Camp Green Lake equal parts devastating and inspiring. Plus, it was set in Texas.

A few years later, I was lucky enough to escort Louis Sachar around the Texas Book Festival in Austin. During his panel discussion, one young boy stood up to ask the best question I've ever heard asked of an author. He was about eleven years old, and he said, "In Sideways Stories from Wayside School, you said the building was 30 stories tall but there is no 19th floor. So how can it be 30 stories tall?"

To his credit, Louis Sachar took that question in stride and answered it. "Do you know what zen means?"

The boy did not, so the author explained. Then he wrapped it all up. "Sideways Stories is sort of the Zen Guide to Elementary School."

The boy replied, "Okay. Thanks."

I have no idea if that boy remembers asking Louis Sachar that question, but I thought the whole exchange was so delightful that I've remembered it.

If you haven't read anything by Louis Sachar, do yourself a favor. Grab Holes, Sideways Stories, Fuzzy Mud or one of his other tales. There's something to love in all of them.