What Happened to Your Book Today: An end-of-the-year poem for authors & illustrators

It’s December 1st, and that means the internet is aswirl with Best Books of the Year lists. Everyone from PW to NSTA to your favorite book blogger is sharing their favorite titles of the year. It’s a wonderful way to discover new titles and build up your to-read list, but the truth is, this can also be a tough time of year for authors and illustrators, especially those who are new to publishing. So please consider this post a virtual hug, from me to you.

As someone who’s published more than fifty books for young readers, from picture books to chapter book adventures to novels and nonfiction, I know how you feel. Sometimes, my books are on those amazing lists, and that’s exciting. Sometimes, they’re not, and that can be disappointing. But every day, as people who create books for kids, we should remember why we write. A while back, I wrote a poem about that….

What Happened to Your Book Today
by Kate Messner (Copyright 2011)

Somewhere, a child laughed
on that page where you made a joke.
Somewhere, she wiped away a tear,
Just when you thought she might.

Somewhere, your book was passed
from one hand to another in a hallway
busy with clanging lockers,
with whispered words,
“You have got to read this.”
And a scribbled note:
OMG – SO good
Give it back when ur done.

It’s looking a little more love-worn lately,
rougher around the edges than it did on release day.
There are dog eared pages and Gatorade stains.
Someone smeared maple syrup on the cover
because she read all through breakfast.
Pages 125 and 126 are stuck fast with peanut butter
Because Chapter 10 was even more delicious
than lunch.

Somewhere, tiny hands held up your book
And a little voice begged, “Again!”
Somewhere, the answer came,
A grown-up sigh…and a smile…
And the fourteenth read-aloud of the morning.
That same book. Again.
Your book.

Somewhere, a kid who has never read a whole book on his own
(Really. Not even one.)
picked up yours and turned a page.
And then another.
And then one more.
And it was pretty cool, turns out.
He brought it back – huge smile on his face –
(and I mean huge)
And asked for another one.
And he read that, too.

Somewhere, a teenager who thought she was alone
Opened your pages and discovered she’s not.
And somewhere, somebody who thought about giving up
will keep on trying,
keep on hoping.

Because of that book you wrote.

Somewhere tonight – listen closely and you’ll hear–
A child will turn the last page of that book,
That book you wrote,
and sigh.
Can you hear it?
It’s the sound of a story being held close
Right before a young voice says,
“It feels like this was written just for me.”

And it was.