A Tale of Two Beginnings

Dearest Hannah,

Wow! The illustrations are beautiful and evoke the exact tone of nostalgia mixed with irreverence that I love. You have nailed Mama Cile's (pronounced seal's) house.

For those of you who don't know, Hannah and I are creating a children's book. It is set in my old neighborhood and is about a little girl who learns some valuable life lessons by learning how to knit. We're all about process, so we thought we would share some of our conversations about how we are working together on this project.

Hannah, as you know, I obsess about beginnings. Here is the original beginning to Ella and then, an alternate version. Let me know what you think!

Original:

More than anything, Ella loved the basket of yarn that sat beside the old brown couch at Mama Cile’s house. She loved the scratchy red wool, the squishy gray alpaca, the stiff blue cotton, the glossy green silk, and the fuzzy purple mohair. Plunging her hand into the basket, Ella closed her eyes and hunted for her favorite prickly pink ball of tweed that still smelled like a sheep. She began to sort the skeins by color on the floor just as she sorted her favorite things in her head. Ella loved to play with the basket of yarn more than… munching on crunchy, orange cheese puffs from the blue tin. She loved it more than swinging on the squeaky, steel gray jungle gym in her backyard. She loved it more than making biscuit cookies with her mama’s leftover dough scraps. She even loved it more than the smell of dirt and ripe tomatoes on her daddy’s hands when he worked in the garden. She loved it more than Aunt Bonnie’s jelly bean jar or when Puddin’ the dachshund licked her face. Ella loved to watch Mama Seal turn the colorful yarn into hats, scarves, blankets and slippers. It was magical. Ella wished more than anything that she could make beautiful things out of yarn, but her hands were clumsy and always dirty.

Alternate: (by the way, I am still working on names)

One morning, during share, Miss Priss asked the class to share their favorite things. Ella thought and thought. She thought about munching on crunchy, orange cheese puffs from the blue tin. She thought about swinging on the squeaky, steel gray jungle gym in her backyard. She thought about squishing sticky biscuit dough through her fingers. She thought about the smell of dirt and ripe tomatoes on her daddy’s hands when he worked in the garden. She thought about counting the beans in Aunt Bonnie’s jelly bean jar. And she thought about wet licks on her cheek from Puddin. She did not think about her little sister, Kate. But, more than anything, Ella thought about the basket of yarn that sat beside the old brown couch at Mama Cile’s house. She loved the scratchy red wool, the squishy gray alpaca, the stiff blue cotton, the glossy green silk, and the fuzzy purple mohair and her most favorite prickly pink ball of tweed that still smelled like a sheep. When it was finally her turn, Ella said, “My favorite thing is yarn.” Her classmates gave her a funny look.

What is the verdict?

Love,
Ellen

Ps. Remember this little guy?


Pps. Check out my new blog goymeetsboy.blogspot.com