Interview Session: Matt de la Peña, Newbery Medal Winner 2016

What does it mean when a picture book wins the Newbery Medal from an author who primarily writes novels? There is a shift in the way picture books are being used to communicate big picture ideas to small children. From The New York Times' article, "Masters of Prose Warm Up to Children's Picture Books," there is a paragraph that nails the appeal of picture books to authors who normally write novels. 

"Picture books, typically written for 3- to 7- year-olds, could represent the next frontier for writers seeking to further expand their audiences by reaching even younger demographic. It also may help them hook impressionable young readers--sometimes before they can read." 

Matt de la Peña has done just that in his picture book (illustrated by Christian Robinson), Last Stop on Market Street, which won the Newbery Medal this year. The Newbery is for the greatest contribution to children's literature in America, and this story of kindness, of loving fellow humans from all walks of life, and in seeing the beauty even among the broken and dirty parts of their city, covers the human condition in approximately 32 pages. CJ and his Nana take the bus, but it is more than just a bus ride. It is an adventure. It is filled with fire breathing dragons, beautiful music, and people helping other people.

"Sometimes when you're surrounded by dirt...you're a better witness for what's beautiful." 

Matt de la Peña answers some questions about himself and about his book, Last Stop on Market Street.

20xJ: Where are you from? Where do you live now? Do you do anything else in addition to writing great books?

Matt: I’m from National City, which is right on the Mexican border in San Diego. It’s actually the setting of my second book, Mexican WhiteBoy. For the past ten years, though—wow, TEN YEARS!—I’ve lived in Brooklyn, New York. In addition to writing, I teach in the low residency MFA program at Hamline University (alongside superstars like Gene Yang and E. Lockhart and Laura Ruby and Anne Ursu) and visit a lot of schools around the country.

20xJ: When did you get your start as a writer? You went to school on a full basketball scholarship—how did that turn into writing?

Matt: I was a secret writer all through high school. Spoken word poetry. I loved the music I could make with words. I loved basketball growing up, but I also knew it was my best chance to become the first de la Peña to go to college. Even when I was young I sort of viewed the game as a path to education. And once I stepped foot on my college campus, my focus shifted. I took every class I could. I read every book a professor mentioned. And I continued writing in secret. During my junior year I submitted a poem to a big college-wide contest. It was the first time I ever let my work travel beyond my notebook. And it won! That validation was incredibly powerful. For the first time ever I gave myself permission to dream . . . I wonder if I could ever be a writer?

20xJ: You are primarily a writer of Young Adult novels. Why did you choose to write The Last Stop On Market Street as a picture book? 

Matt: I have a lot of stories I want to tell. And the more experienced I get, the more I realize they require different approaches. I grew up in a super working class family, and I always viewed my context as beautiful—especially once I left for college. But I didn’t think I could hit that idea head on in a YA novel. And then I had the opportunity to do a book with Christian Robinson, who I greatly admire. It was the perfect marriage. I got to write about a kid learning to perceive himself as beautiful (both physically and contextually), minus the hormones. If I saddled this story to an older character it would be a different thing.

20xJ: There need to be more nanas like CJ’s nana in the world. She sees the bright side to every situtation. When CJ asks a million questions about the world (like most little kids do), Nana is patient. When CJ asks, “Nana, how come we don’t got a car?” Nana replies with “Boy, what do we need car for? We got a bus that breathes fire, and old Mr. Dennis, who always has a trick for you.” Was there a “nana” in your life that inspired Nana’s character? 

Matt: My Mexican grandma was much more subtle. She guided young me by patting my knee when I started to mouth off. I grew to see the power in her silence, though. She was a powerful presence in my life, but she was also strangely ghostly. If that makes sense. And then she was gone. Christian Robinson had a grandmother like Nana, however. I met her as I was writing the book. I saw the strength in her eyes.

20xJ: The wonderful thing about Last Stop On Market Street is that it is a story that could take place anywhere—in Atlanta, Boston, New York, Los Angeles, New Orleans. Where is Market Street for you?

Matt: I love when folks claim it as their own Market Street. I recently had a woman tell me, “I’m so happy you wrote about Newark, New Jersey.” And I told her, “Yeah. Newark. Exactly.” Truth is, I imagined Los Angeles when I wrote the book. I lived there for four years and rode the bus everywhere. Christian imagined San Francisco, where he now lives.

20xJ: I know it must be hard to choose, but which of Christian Robinson’s illustrations in Last Stop On Market Street is your favorite?

Matt: The dream sequence, when CJ closes his eyes to listen to the music. That spreads makes me want to cry.

“CJ’s chest grew full and he was lost in the sound and the sound gave him the feeling of magic.” 

20xJ: Another tough one, but what was your favorite line or passage to write in Last Stop On Market Street?

Matt: Okay, this feels weird, praising my own words, but I like this line: “CJ’s chest grew full and he was lost in the sound / and the sound gave him the feeling of magic.” I like the music of that one. I had to fight for the rep of “sound” which is absolutely vital to me.

20xJ: What were your favorite books as a child? And/or your favorite books now? 

Matt: Sadly, I wasn’t much of a reader as a kid. I read The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros about a dozen times. It was so good, I thought, “Why should I read anything else? This one works!” A couple favorites now: Suttree by Cormac McCarthy, Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates, This is How You Lose Her by Junot Diaz, and Bud, Not Buddy by Christopher Paul Curtis.

20xJ: What is your favorite line in literature?

Matt: From McCarthy’s The Road: “Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorry it.”

20xJ: On the ALA website, one of the definitions of the Newbery Medal is that it is a “‘contribution to American literature for children shall be a book for which children are an intended potential audience. The book displays respect for children’s understandings, abilities, and appreciations. Children are defined as persons of ages up to and including fourteen, and books for this entire age range are to be considered.”

I think everyone ages 0-99 should read this book. What is your dream for Last Stop On Market Street? In other words, how would you like for it to inspire children?

Matt: I feel like one of the most important things you can do as a writer is let go. Once a book leaves your computer it is no longer fully yours. My dream is for readers to interact with my stories, period. What an honor. But it is the reader who makes a book special. So, it’s hard for me to speak to this with much insight. I will say this, however, it’s important to me that diverse readers encounter diverse characters. This is a validating experience.

20xJ: You are also the first Latino male to be awarded the Newbery. This recognition of a Latino author has been a long time coming, but hopefully, as racially diverse as America is, this will continue to shape the way books are made and for whom they are made.

What does winning the Newbery mean to you, and how do you hope this encourages other Latino authors as well as other diverse authors?

Matt: Winning the Newbery is a humbling, humbling experience. It means a committee of really thoughtful readers liked my book. A lot. How insane is that? And I’m definitely proud to be a Latino writer. I hope all the brilliant Latino/Latina writers of the past and present view this as a recognition or our diverse community and that it inspires young Latinos coming up to read their way through the world and consider a path in the arts. 

20xJ: In a society of consumerism, a society that wants more things, we see CJ’s complaints that reflect that way of life (why can’t he have an iPod like the teenagers on the bus)? You write about connecting to human people. On the bus, there is a man with tattoos, a woman with a jar of butterflies, a blind man, and a man playing guitar. 

Once CJ closes his eyes, he is transported. “CJ’s chest grew full and he was lost in the sound and the sound gave him the feeling of magic.” 

How does writing and music connect people? What do you hope to accomplish or write next? 

Matt: Music is so visceral. But not just the music of music. The music of poetry is like that, too. I wish more people could see the poetry in their lives. I wish we would all be more comfortable in silence, in boredom, in our work. There’s poetry all around us. Even some forms of sadness are bursting with poetry.

I can’t wait for my next picture book to come out. It’s called Carmela Full of Wishes, and it follows a young Mexican girl on a trip to do errands with her brother. She, too, is in search of poetry.

Visit Matt's website at http://mattdelapena.com/

Thanks, Matt! 

Reflections on the Newbery Medal

A week ago Monday (January 18, 2010), at the American Library Association conference in Boston, Mass., the 2010 Newbery and Caldecott Awards were announced.

Last week, we explored a few of the guidelines for the Caldecott Medal. This week, I thought it would be interesting to reflect a bit on the guidelines given to the Newbery committee. Like the books that have received the Caldecott Medal and honors, the Newbery Medal and Honor books also reflect a wide range of topics and genres. Here is the charge of the Newbery committee: “The Medal shall be awarded annually to the author of the most distinguished contribution to American literature for children published by an American publisher in the United States in English during the preceding year. There are no limitations as to the character of the book considered except that it be original work. Honor books may be named. These shall be books that are also truly distinguished.”

“There are no limitations as to the character of the book considered...” gives the committee a great deal of leeway. In Leonard Marcus’s book Funny Business: Conversations with Writers of Comedy, three of the writers he interviewed have won the Newbery Medal, and his questions get to the heart of their approach to writing and their affinity for humor as a means of communication. Other books that were considered “distinguished” by past Newbery Committees have run the gamut from poetry to biography to fiction.

Looking at this year’s Newbery winner and honor books alone, we see a diversity of topics and approaches. Rebecca Stead’s When You Reach Me, which won the 2010 Newbery Medal last week, is set in 1970s Manhattan on the Upper West Side, with a time travel puzzle at its core, and a heroine named Miranda trying to make sense of a world whose parameters are expanding in so many ways. (Another fun fact: Miranda’s favorite well-worn book, A Wrinkle in Time, also won a Newbery Medal.) The Newbery Honor book The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly explores the changes going on in a small town in Texas in 1899, and 11-year-old Callie, who’s more interested in science than cooking and sewing; the book explores the impact of Darwin’s ideas on Callie and how scientific breakthroughs are affecting the society in which she lives. Where the Mountain Meets the Moon by Grace Lin, also an Honor book, is a timeless quest story set in China that seamlessly weaves Chinese folklore into the narrative with occasional glorious full-color, silkscreen-like illustrations. Then there’s The Mostly True Adventures of Homer P. Figg by Rodman Philbrick, in which 12-year-old narrator Homer adopts a tall-tale tone but also gets across the horrors of the Civil War, and the nonfiction title Claudette Colvin: Twice Toward Justice by Phillip Hoose, which draws from interviews with Ms. Colvin and archival photographs to tell the story of 15-year-old Claudette Colvin’s brave decision to defy segregation in 1955 Alabama. Whew! Can you imagine a greater range of tone and topic, from history to time travel to folklore and tall tale?

Many teachers and librarians conduct “mock Newbery” discussions, to contemplate what makes a book “distinguished” and to choose the best of the year’s offerings. From the diversity of titles in this year’s mix, you can see how much depends upon the makeup of the committee and the discussion around each individual book. Does your school or local library host a discussion? If not, and if your son or daughter is interested, why not approach a teacher or librarian about starting one?

Gestation

The Graveyard Book was 20 years in the making, according to Neil Gaiman in his 2009 Newbery acceptance speech. He first got the idea for the book when he watched his son, Michael, ride his tricycle in the cemetery of his old Sussex neighborhood. Michael is now taller than his father. He is 25; the same age Gaiman was when he started The Graveyard Book.

What a terrific example to share with young people about how to slow down and not rush things. From the time we are children in school, we are often driven by deadlines. We have due dates for written reports and oral presentations, we attend practices to prepare for football or basketball games, track or swim meets, recitals and plays. Once we enter the working world, there, too, we have due dates for reports, projects, and presentations to bosses, colleagues, and clients.

It’s easy to get caught up in the goal and lose sight of the process. It wasn’t always just about the trophy, was it? At first, wasn’t it the pure pleasure of running under the trees, or swimming out to the sandbar, or giving voice to a song? We start as amateurs, in its original sense of cultivating something for the love of it. Maybe we return to it because it gives us joy, and the more we run or swim or sing, the better we get. We run sprints and swim laps and practice scales, and we learn more about how far we can go. And if we're lucky, and if we stay with it, one day it all comes together.

In those intervening 20 years, Neil Gaiman did not stop writing. He wrote his Sandman series, American Gods and Coraline, to name a few. But he did eventually return to The Graveyard Book. Gaiman said that when he wrote the last two lines of his Newbery Medal-winning novel, he realized, “I had set out to write a book about a childhood . . . I was now writing about being a parent. The fundamental most comical tragedy of parenthood: If you do your job properly . . . they won't need you anymore. If you did it properly, they go away.” He continued, “I knew I'd written a book that was better than the one I had set out to write.”