Good morning, Nick.
Good morning.
Thank you for meeting with me. I know it’s early.
No problem. I appreciate the invitation.
So, how often do you actually talk to yourself in the mirror?
Oh, not as often as you might think. Sometimes if there’s no mirror around, I hold two tin cans with a string attached up to each of my ears. It’s like I’m playing telephone with myself!
That’s pretty neat.
Thank you. I invented it myself.
So, what do you want to talk about today? Fragment sentences? Maybe: we could talk about, improper use; of punctuation - marks!
No, I’d rather talk about creative writing and the tax code.
The most important thing I tell children when I visit schools is this: writing is sharing. I explain to them that an author isn’t someone special. An author is just someone who wants to share something, and decides to write about it. “If you become interested in something,” I tell students, “you should write about it.” I like old, traditional stories—especially those from the American Southwest. When I run across a tale that excites my imagination, I start re-imagining it and developing a version that I think will entertain children and suit my style of storytelling.
The Rule of Three is the first of a trilogy that will run just over 1,200 pages. If a journey of a thousand miles starts with a step, then a trilogy that length begins with an inkling of an idea.
When I start a book I know what it’s going to be about, but I almost never know the best way to tell the story. With Jet Plane: How It Works (David Macaulay Studio, 2012), I started with elephants. I was thinking about how remarkable it is that heavy things can fly.?
Working with Nic Bishop on a “Scientists in the Field” book always entails thrilling moments. Together, with the men and women whose work we chronicle, we’ve handled wild tarantulas in French Guiana, walked among 18,000 slithering snakes in Canada, and traveled on Bactrian camels in Mongolia in search of snow leopards.?
Daydreaming becomes a strong muscle if you exercise it often enough. By the time I was ten, I could lasso a daydream and ride the wind. Who wouldn’t want to do that?