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Avi’s 2024 Summer Blog Series

Rebecca Kai Dotlich

From Avi: As I did in the sum­mer of 2023 and the sum­mer of 2022, I’ve invit­ed 13 admired mid­dle grade authors to write for my blog for the next three months. I hope you’ll tune in each Tues­day to see who has answered these two ques­tions we’re fre­quent­ly asked by read­ers. You should have a list of ter­rif­ic books to read and share by the end of the sum­mer … along with new authors to follow!

Some poems come from the heart, but they also come from the back­yard, the sky, or the walk to school. A poem can be made of the thing that makes you dou­ble over laugh­ing, or of the empti­ness you feel when sad­ness set­tles in. When words are cob­bled togeth­er to tell about rain clat­ter­ing on the roof, wind whoosh­ing through trees, a thun­der­storm or the won­der of stars, that thing we call a poem has been written.

Where did you get your idea for a specific book of yours?

Welcome to the Wonder House

You might, or might not, love words. And you might, or might not, know it. Words that are deli­cious alone. Words that fit togeth­er like a puz­zle. Words that say some­thing to soothe your heart or make you think or make you laugh out loud. And, you might get a kick out of, or feel a bit of hap­pi­ness when you hear a cer­tain rhythm, or some­thing repeat­ed over and over, words strung togeth­er that you come to know by heart. You might be shrug­ging your shoul­ders. Prob­a­bly you’ve nev­er thought about it. As a young girl, I didn’t know that’s what I was feel­ing. I didn’t name it, I just knew I loved hear­ing, say­ing, (and still do,) things like … Fee Fi Fo Fum, I smell the blood of an Eng­lish­man. Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread. Shiv­er. Loved it. Or I can nev­er for­get Take me out to the ball­game, take me out to the crowd, buy me some peanuts and Crack­er Jack, I don’t care if I nev­er get back …my old­er broth­er lis­tened to that song so often that it is stamped onto my brain. Songs, images, poems; they are all a type of singing, full of mem­o­ry and mys­tery, notic­ing, read­ing, writ­ing, and repeat­ing. I was nev­er able to mem­o­rize poems, and still can’t. Unless they are short. Unless they rhyme. Unless they have rhythm. Then, maybe. Almost. Some­times. And anoth­er truth is, poems don’t have to rhyme. What about this: I hear bells ring­ing from far, far away, even while the horns honk and the dogs bark and the pud­dles splash. Those few images cre­ate a small poem about a noisy moment in time. There is a hint of rhythm, but there is no rhyme.

Rebecca Kai Dotlich in high schoolI have writ­ten poet­ry since I was about eleven. I still have a few of those poems. One was about being in class, watch­ing the clock and want­i­ng to go home, anoth­er was about my best friend as I watched her walk­ing out­side my win­dow, one was about a boy, one about my lit­tle sis­ter, one about death, and one was full of sil­ly non­sense. None of these were good poems. And it didn’t mat­ter. Writ­ing them made me hap­py. It became a hob­by. I wrote on tablets, on note­book paper, in diaries, and on the backs of used busi­ness papers my dad brought home from the office. At one point my grand­fa­ther gave me his old type­writer and I fell even deep­er into the world of words along with the sound of click clack­ing while I typed. (I hadn’t learned to type yet, I just punched one key at a time.) I had things I want­ed to say, and so I said them. Word after word, and line after line. Some poems rhymed and some did not. I don’t remem­ber wor­ry­ing about ideas, or how to get an idea, I just wrote what I was feel­ing, see­ing, and thinking.

Now that I am a grown-up writer, I’m asked quite a bit where I get my ideas for poems. The truth is, not much has changed, except I enjoy study­ing the craft of poet­ry, com­par­ing one thing to anoth­er, tak­ing time to notice, to observe all the details that I can, choos­ing words, mak­ing word lists, find­ing the just-right word. And I usu­al­ly begin by prais­ing some­thing. But before I can praise it, I fall in love with it for just a moment. And even before that, I ques­tion it, feel amazed by it, mar­vel at it. This might be wind­shield wipers slosh­ing back and forth, hold­ing a cold, glassy mar­ble in my hand, watch­ing the whirling spokes of a bicy­cle, look­ing at a starfish, a shad­ow, the heart shaped rock, a pen­ny on the side­walk, a kite caught in a tree, a tiny frog or a clus­ter of clouds.

Poems don’t have to be about big, com­pli­cat­ed things. But they can be. I’ve writ­ten about a friend mov­ing away, miss­ing my grand­fa­ther, and being lonely.

What’s your best writing advice for young writers?

When you think you might want to write a poem, have your curios­i­ty, your heart and your note­book ready to explore, imag­ine and notice. And have your The­saurus and Rhyming Dic­tio­nary close by, too. Dream, won­der, be open to pos­si­bil­i­ties, then don’t sec­ond guess or doubt your­self, just put it on the page.

Particulars

Rebec­ca Kai Dotlich

Rebec­ca is a word col­lec­tor, poet and pic­ture book author who has writ­ten and pub­lished dozens of children’s books, includ­ing Lemon­ade Sun, One Day The End, The Know­ing Book, What Is Sci­ence? Grum­bles From the For­est (co-authored with Jane Yolen) and most recent­ly Wel­come To The Won­der House, (co-authored with Geor­gia Heard.) Rebec­ca­’s poems have been includ­ed in children’s poet­ry antholo­gies by Lee Ben­nett Hop­kins and Paul B. Janeczko, as well as J. Patrick Lewis, Jane Yolen, Geor­gia Heard, Jack Pre­lut­sky, Kenn Nes­bit, Charles Waters and Irene Lath­am. Her books have been award­ed a Boston Globe Horn Book Hon­or, The 2024 Lee Ben­nett Hop­kins Poet­ry Award, a Gold­en Kite pic­ture book Hon­or, a Bank Street Best and a Sub­aru SB&F Prize final­ist. Her poems also appear in dozens of text­books and mag­a­zines. She grew up in Indi­ana where she spent her days read­ing com­ic books and mys­ter­ies, ice skat­ing on near­by ponds, build­ing snow forts, and rid­ing her bike on dirt trails by the creek. She spends most of her time in her writ­ing room filled with vin­tage type­writ­ers and small toys like cars and trolls, mar­bles and jacks. She can nev­er have enough school sup­plies: col­or­ful note­cards, notepads, and fold­ers. And books! Piles of books! She’s a doo­dler, a scrib­bler, and a note­book keep­er. Her favorite foods are spaghet­ti and pot pies.

2 thoughts on “Summer Blog Series: Rebecca Kai Dotlich”

  1. This is a new author to me. Thank you, Avi. I love poet­ry, espe­cial­ly poet­ry for chil­dren. I will cer­tain­ly check out her books!

    Reply
  2. I am such fun of yours, Avi! And Rebec­ca has always inspired me with her lyri­cal sound and evoca­tive imagery! I have read every one of her books and been for­tu­nate to have had a few of my poems includ­ed in many of the same anthologies!

    Reply

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