Poet Julie Larios on Joyce Sidman’s UBIQUITOUS: “a symphony of a book”

The StorySleuths are once again overjoyed to share a review prepared especially for us by poet Julie Larios. This time, Julie looks at Joyce Sidman's book, UBIQUITOUS: Celebrating Nature's Survivors. Take it away, Julie!

Not only is “ubiquitous”* a good word to describe the poet Joyce Sidman lately (*Definition: something that is – or seems to be—everywhere at the same time), it’s also the title of her most recently released collection of poetry.


UBIQUITOUS: Celebrating Nature’s Survivors is the new jewel in Sidman’s impressive string of picture books over the last five years, all of which have garnered critical attention and praise, and two of which (Red Sings from Treetops and Song of the Water Boatman) have been named Caldecott Honor books. Beckie Prange, the talented artist who paired up with Sidman for Song of the Water Boatman, is back, illustrating what some people might consider daunting subjects for poets and readers (bacteria, lichens, diatoms, grasses!) as well as more familiar animals and plants like sharks, coyotes, squirrels, and dandelions. Homo sapiens put in an appearance, as do crows, ants, beetles and—one of my favorites— mollusks (“…the pink lip/of a pearled world. // Who swirled your whorls and ridges?”)


What could pull these seemingly unrelated subjects together into a collection of poetry? Well, it’s all there in the subtitle: These are nature’s survivors – tenacious, sturdy, prolific, adaptable, diverse and street-smart (meadow-smart , muck-smart, desert smart and saltwater-smart, too!) It’s a fresh and wonderful concept that’s been executed with elegance – and I do think “elegance” is the right word. The book is not as playful as Red Sings from Treetops, nor is it as serene as Song of the Water Boatman, nor as simple as This Is Just to Say. It isn’t a melody, as those other three seem to be; instead, this book feels positively symphonic. While each one of the poems might be said to function as part of a song line through the book, the non-fiction which accompanies each poem on the facing page is quite a bit longer and more densely packed. It provides deep harmony and variations on the theme. Think Beethoven for this book rather than Mozart!


That’s not to say that Sidman’s particular style as a poet has changed. She’s still got her signature range of traditional forms (for example, several concrete poems, which echo the shape of the object being described) and rhythms, metered as well as free verse, rhyming and non-rhyming lines. This time around, though, the diction is slightly altered. For example, one of my favorites, called “Scarab,” (shaped like the beetle it describes) is almost incantatory: - you’re there, in Egypt, along with the Pharoahs, worshipping:

                                                  Having
                                              found me, you
                                      are blessed. Born a grub,
                                  cradled in rot, I am Sheath-wing,
                                 beloved of ancients. You have never
                                  seen armor like mine. As the sun-god
                               rolls his blazing disk overhead, so I roll my
                               perfect sphere of dung across the sands….

(“Sheath-wing” is actually a translation of the word “coleoptera” – the scientific order to which beetles belong. Thank you, Joyce Sidman, for the look at etymology!) I was going to say that the diction and tone of the book are more serious, but that’s not right –they’re simply more intricate.


Have I said yet that teachers and non-fiction addicts will love this collection? On the page facing “Scarab,” the text provides readers with a whole slew of facts about relative size, length of time on earth, and traits which help it survive (did you know beetles have forewings that act almost like armor and allow the beetle to survive in just about any climate?) Added to this material, the illustrator provides a visual step-by-step of the insect’s larval stages. That’s what I mean about a symphony – all kinds of synchronic information to balance the melodic poetry.


Another strong poem (“Come with Us”) provides the song line for coyotes (canis latrans: barking dog!)

Come, come with us!


Come into the woods at evening.


Come canter across the cornfields,


Come slink in the dusk like smoke.






Come, come with us!


Come plunder the wind’s riches….

Meanwhile, on the facing page, Sidman tells us about the adaptability of coyotes to whatever helps them survive, such as a change in social structure or natural habitat (coyote populations come closer and closer now to suburban settings.)


Animals don’t get all the attention. Look at how deftly Sidman handles the anthropomorphizing of grass:

I drink the rain,

I eat the sun;

Before the prairie woods
I run…

On steppe or veld
Or pampas dry,

Beneath the grand
enormous sky,

I make my humble
bladed bed.

And where there’s level ground,
I spread.

“…my humble / bladed bed.” That’s the kind of phrase only a talented poet can write. Someone else might have written “My humble little bed” and the whole poem would have imploded into sentimental schlock. But Sidman knows how to hunt for the perfect word. “Bladed” snaps the poem right back into the natural world – razor-sharp, not sweet and saccharine.


Prange’s linocuts, hand-colored with watercolors (thank you, Houghton Miflin, for providing this information on the pub data page of the book! How I wish more publishers did it!) employ a whole new palette of super-saturated colors for Sidman’s words. The title page alone is worth the price of admission – bright purple, fiery orange, glowing gold, deep black. And the end-papers – well, all I can say about those is don’t pass them up. An illustrator’s note at the end provides an explanation for them.


The author, illustrator, editor and book designer haven’t left a single thing out of this symphony of a book – poems, non-fiction notes, a glossary, author and illustrator notes, and a gecko whose body stands out in relief on the front cover (and whose tail wraps around to the back of the book!) UBIQUITOUS is a singular intersection of language, visual art and science . It adds quite a nice touch to the shelf of Sidman books I’ve been collecting (and oh, it looks like another book, titled Dark Emperor and Other Poems of the Night is coming out just after Labor Day this year….hooray!)

Thank you, Julie, for once again sharing with us and our readers a deeper look into the world poetic!

StorySleuths Tip #83: Don’t think for a moment that non-fiction needs to be dull! Give a topic your own new, fresh take and create something unforgettable.

INTERVIEW WITH THE AUTHOR: One Crazy Summer

The StorySleuths were fortunate to be able to ask a few questions of the amazing Rita Williams-Garcia. Busy with her work as a member of the faculty at the Vermont College of Fine Arts and dashing to and from the ALA conference, Ms. Williams-Garcia took time out of her busy schedule for us, and we thank her. And now, some words from Rita:

1. We always hear that when writing historical fiction it is challenging to keep from including each and every incredibly cool tidbit gathered during the research phase. Is there one particular piece of information that you really wanted to plug in but just couldn't find the place for?

For sure! Actually, there were many that went into my “Unused” folder. I made a deal with myself, that if I found a place for any one of them, in it would go. The other deal I made was to not fish around in the “unused” folder. I’d have to come upon a place in the writing that begged to have the material woven in. Now, 1968 was a huge year. I kept a diary of one line entries--truth told, too many TV Guide entries--and it was hard to pick, so I remained close to the “Free Huey” movement. I desperately wanted to include Angela Davis and couldn’t do it as naturally as I would have liked to. And there were so many historical events from my childhood. This meant my recollections of Dr. King’s assassination which lead to the Eric Starvo Galt aka James Earl Ray manhunt; hearing Bobby Kennedy’s speech at the Monterey Peninsula Airport and taking a picture with him; more specifics about the Vietnam conflict, and Eartha Kitt being removed as “Catwoman” from the TV show Batman because of her anti-war remarks at a luncheon with Lady Bird Johnson--could not be used in the novel. I could always feel myself reaching to make connections and I’ll tell myself to “stay on story.” It’s part of my work song.

2. Are there any characters that changed significantly since your original concept, and if so, how are they different? Are there characters that started out in the story but got cut?

This time around I didn’t have to cut any characters, but their roles did change. The most significant change was Fern. I always intended Fern to be Delphine’s baby. I had an image of her, and her role was to bring out Delphine’s maternal instincts while hampering Delphine’s carefree childhood. I had given her a sweet little soul and Miss Patty Cake. But then, Fern was also the reason or excuse for Cecile’s departure. Her sweetness doesn’t really work on Cecile who won’t leap up to get her a simple glass of ice water. And then I saw and understood why: Like Cecile, Fern insists on herself even at birth. That there is something in Fern that wants to fly off the handle in a rage (although this has to be understood in her fist banging), whereas in Cecile it is overt. I had to make a confrontation between Fern and Cecile. Fern is the undoing of everything.

Sister Mukumbu’s role had changed significantly from the plan. Originally, Sister Mukumbu was to take on more responsibility and nurturing, but that would have been too convenient. As a result there was an opportunity to let Mrs. Woods step out into the story. That worked out well because I intended to have Hirohito’s father, a Vietnam vet turned Black Panther, more visible. Brother Woods’ presence was more logical, historical and I could go to my “Unused” folder for an “in scene” appearance with Brother Woods fixing the Go-Kart. But I saw this Japanese woman sitting with Delphine, Vonetta, Fern and Hirohito. She was naturally maternal, a strong but nurturing mother to Hirohito. She was the antithesis of Cecile, so good-bye Brother Woods. But also, my editor, Rosemary Brosnan’s questions about Delphine and sisters being on their own gave another opportunity to activate Mrs. Woods.

3. What did you start out with? Character? Story idea? The era?

Years before I even proposed the story, I knew I would write from my childhood years and that it would be a story not yet written. A few years ago it was time to propose stories for my contract and I already had JUMPED fully formed in my head. As I wrote my email to my editor, I heard, “RUN!” and saw this woman taking off, leaving her small children to struggle to keep up with her. I wrote a basic story idea about this woman who reunited with her children and was involved with the Black Panthers, but was on the run from Maxie, whose printer she had “found.” The names of the characters spilled out onto the screen without even taking a moment. And I knew where there names had come from and why Cecile left them. I heard Delphine say, “When Cecile left, Fern wasn’t on the bottle. When Fern left, Vonetta could walk but wanted to be picked up. When Fern left Pa wasn’t sick, but he wasn‘t doing well, either” (from my notebook). Then I asked, why does she say it this way, in a cadence? The answer: because she grew up hearing cadence. From where? From Cecile. And the images rained! Writing on the wall. Homelessness. The girls’ father, a lonely but loving man. A teen curled up around Milton and Countee Cullen in the stacks of a library. A finger pointing down and a voice yelling, “What is wrong with this picture?” This story was telling itself to me faster than I could write it.

My mind and pre-research frame of references were full: My cousins were involved with the Black Panthers. That my mother smoked and played smoky music. I had free breakfasts in the summer and a Sickle Cell Anemia shot, courtesy of the Black Panthers. Nikki Giovanni printing her own poems on her own printing press. That a Black Panther woman, who was probably just a teen said, “Little Sister, have you had your smile today?” And that nowhere on the news would I see her smile. Or George Jackson’s smile. Or the loving family man in Malcolm X who wasn’t a Black Panther, but whose assassination inspired the movement. I believe it was us, the children, the ones who were served who know what the world doesn’t. I wrote a lot before I could actually get to the business of putting my scenes and dialogue into chapters. I’d dream deeply, ask and answer questions. How is this so, Rita? Explain this to me.

4. Is there a particular element of craft that was particularly challenging for you when writing One Crazy Summer? If so, how did you overcome it?

I had to stop “telling” the story as much as I loved Delphine’s voice and point of view. I had to remove a good deal of telling by asking myself, “Rita, what happens when this is extricated?” If I didn’t do it, my editor (Rosemary Brosnan at Harpercollins) would strongly suggest it. I also had to give Delphine “the hook” and let her be in the scene and not tell us about it. 

5. If there is one final edit you could make, what would it be?

It’s a small thing, but every time I come across it, I pause. At the end of “Everyone Knows the King of the Sea,” Delphine says, “I hadn’t cared if I never saw that grinning mammal again.“ This is correct because she is retelling from the past, but every time I read it I lose Delphine. I would revise to the incorrect, “I didn’t care if I never saw that grinning mammal again.” Told you it was small.

Ms. Williams-Garcia -- the StorySleuths thank you for sharing!


StorySleuths Tip #82: When writing historical fiction allow your reasearch to give the story flavor and texture, only including those actual facts that fit the story, rather than changing the story to fit the facts. From RWG's response above--wait for a place in the story that begs to have the material woven in.


Post #7: Guest Posting by Monica Edinger --Attending to Your Audience

CLIMAX AND DENOUEMENT: One Crazy Summer (Post #6 of 6)

Dear Allyson and Heather,

     I’ve been thinking about your post, Heather, and about how Williams-Garcia created an antagonist who AVOIDS taking action. Her decision to pit Delphine against such a resistant mother created a challenge with respect to the ending. How could the story come to a climax in which there would be some resolution of the tension between Delphine and Cecile, while still remaining true to the characters? A sugary sweet ending wouldn’t fit, but to have no mutual understanding wouldn’t satisfy readers either.

     In Beginnings,, Middles & Ends, Nancy Kress says, 

…the climactic scene must grow naturally out of the actions that preceded it, which in turn must have grown naturally out of the personalities of the characters.” (p. 108)

     In the penultimate chapter of One Crazy Summer, “Be Eleven,” the protagonist and the antagonist confront one another. It’s a confrontation we’ve been prepared for, and expecting, and waiting for, since the first chapter, when Delphine and her sisters set off on the quest to visit the mother who had left them behind six years earlier, leaving Delphine with only a “flash of memory” that told her “Cecile wasn’t one for kissing and hugging” (p. 7). With Delphine, we wonder, “Why? 

     And finally, in “Be Eleven,” Cecile explains. Cecile initiates the scene with a tirade directed at Delphine, blaming Delphine for not calling her father when Cecile was in jail, Delphine responds: 

I’m only eleven years old. And I do everything. I have to, because you’re not there to do it. I’m only eleven years old, but I do the best I can. I don’t just up and leave. (p. 206) 

      In response, Cecile opens up, sharing her own life story with Delphine. Delphine reflects: 

Here was my mother telling me her life. Who she was. How she came to be Cecile. Answering questions I’d stored in my head from the time I realized she would not come back. (p. 209) 

     Delphine’s self-awareness grows out of these revelations: “….for what seemed like the first time ever, all I could think about was my own self. What I lost. What I missed" (p. 209). The information doesn’t change Delphine’s feelings—“I was still mad”—but it does give her information that she planned to take out “one piece at a time and look at” (p. 210), and it gives her Cecile’s understanding: “Be eleven, Delphine. Be eleven while you can” (p. 210)

     About the dénouement, whose function is to “wrap up the story” after the climax, Kress says, 

it may consist of a sentence, a paragraph, or a brief scene clarifying what happens to the character after she changes. (p. 112) 

Williams-Garcia has created the perfect dénouement. After they’ve said their goodbyes at the airport, Delphine expects Cecile to walk away. But in line for boarding, Delphine reports: 

When I turned to see if she had gone, she was standing only a few feet away. Looking straight at me. It was a strange, wonderful feeling. To discover eyes upon you when you expected no one to notice you at all. (p. 214) 

And finally, there’s the moment we’ve been prepared for, and waiting for, from the first chapter: 

We broke off from the line and ran over to hug our mother and let her hug us…..We weren’t about to leave Oakland without getting what we’d come for. (p. 215)

     It’s a perfect ending—one that follows from all of the actions that preceded it and grows naturally out of the personalities of the characters.

StorySleuths Tip #81: Create a climax and dénouement that meet the standards of Nancy Kress--that logically follow the actions preceding it while growing naturally out of the personalities of the characters.

ANTAGONIST: One Crazy Summer (Post #5 of 6)

Dear Allyson and Meg,

We haven't talked much about antagonists in the books we've read so far, although we have meet some doozies (the Blackbringer in Laini Taylor's fantasy novel Blackbringer and Wendell in Marcelo in the Real World  come to mind). The antagonist in One Crazy Summer is another doozy: Cecile Johnson, the mother who abandoned the three sisters when the youngest was still nursing.

We readers learn about Cecile through the eyes of our narrator, Delphine, who explains that the term "mother" is

"a statement of fact. Cecile Johnson gave birth to us. We came out of Cecile Johnson. In the animal kingdom that makes her our mother" (p. 14).

Delphine's explanation sounds fairly straightforward and unemotional, but we readers can't help but feel her underlying resentment toward her mother. What I found fascinating here was how the narration clues us in to the possibility that Delphine may not be a completely reliable narrator when it comes to her mother.

Then, of course, we actually meet Cecile when she arrives late at the airport to pick up the children. She looks "more like a secret agent than a mother," Delphine thinks, judging by the way her mother appears dressed in big sunglasses, a scarf, and a hat. We are still in Delphine's head, still seeing Cecile through Delphine's point of view. Is Cecile really so crazy? So horrible? So uncaring?

Rita Williams-Garcia uses Delphine's narration to create questions in the reader's mind before letting us see Cecile in action for ourselves. And when she does, her words and actions clearly show that Delphine's fears were justified. She exhibits no warmth toward the girls, just hustles them into a taxi and takes them home. She mumbles

"I didn't send for you. Didn't want you in the first place. Should have gone to Mexico to get rid of you when I had the chance" (p. 26).

While this statement confuses the girls, they are even more offended when they discover that Cecile has no food for them, offering them a choice between eating "air sandwiches" and walking down the street alone to order take out from Ming's.

What's interesting about Cecile as an antagonist is that she doesn't so much oppose Delphine, Vonetta, and Fern through her actions the way that Wendell in Marcelo in the Real World actively tried to thwart Marcelo. Instead, Cecile's inactions--her lack of motherly warmth and concern--leave the girls off balance and force Delphine to take on more responsibility than an eleven-year-old should have. She is an antagonist because she withholds the very care and emotional connection that the girls crave.

StorySleuths Tip #80: An antagonist can provide opposition to the protagonist through inaction by refusing to interact with the protagonist or withholding emotional connections.


Post #6: Interview with Rita Williams-Garcia

THE TICKING CLOCK: One Crazy Summer (Post #4 of 6)

Dear Heather and Meg,

My kids’ last day of school was Thursday and already we hear that ticking clock. The first day of September is just around the corner and there is so much to do between now and then! The time constraint adds tension to the story of our summer, just as it does in literature with the literary device referred to as the ticking clock.

During a lecture at the 2009 SCBWI Western Washington conference, literary agent Michael Stearns spoke about the use of a ticking clock in novels to add suspense. In an online article titled Adding Suspense to a Novel -- the Ticking Clock, author Marg McAlister suggests that the main requirements to use this literary device are:

1. Plan to have something big happen at the end of the chosen period of time, with severe and unwanted consequences for the main character if he/she doesn't meet the deadline.
2. Choose a period of time during which the action of the story will play out – a day, a week, 39 days, a year – the time period doesn't matter, as long as the main character faces serious challenges to complete whatever is necessary in the time frame.

How does device work in One Crazy Summer? First, let’s look at the “period of time during with the action of the story will play out”. This is established before one even turns the first page—the title One Crazy Summer implies that there is a time limit being imposed. We are promised that something is going to take place over the course of a summer, and as the novel progresses, we see that time-clock ticking down.

And what is the ‘something big’ that is going to happen? The story opens with the girls flying to Oakland to meet, and get to know, Cecile—the mother who abandoned them for reasons that are not altogether clear to either Delphine or the reader. When Cecile collects them at the airport in chapter two it is apparent that one month may not be enough time to get to know this woman who seems determined to keep her distance. The ‘something big’ is that Delphine just may return to New York without having gotten to know her mother. She may never come to understand why her mother left three young daughters to be raised by their father.

As the story progresses we are made aware of time ticking, and with each passing day it seems less and less likely that the girls will foster any kind of relationship with Cecile. In fact when they have only been there for one day they are ready to go home:

‘I wanna go home.’


‘Me too.’


I knew which home they meant. I said, ‘We’re going back home in twenty-seven days’ (p. 60).

It is close to the end of their time in Oakland when Cecile gets arrested, and still Delphine has not gotten close to her mother:

If Cecile had been arrested when we first arrived in Oakland, I would have called Pa, and Pa would have made sure my sisters and I were on a plane back to New York. Nothing would have made me happier than to leave Cecile and Oakland back then. But we hadn’t gotten what we came for. We didn’t really know our mother, and I couldn’t leave without knowing who she was (p. 178).

It isn’t until the very end of their stay that Cecile reveals to Delphine the truth about her own painful past. And it is not until the day they leave that Cecile finally demonstrates the kind of care and compassion the girls have been looking for all along.

If Delphine had a lifetime to figure out the secrets behind her mother’s actions and establish a relationship with her, there would be no story. Having just one month to accomplish these things adds tension, and propels the story forward.

StorySleuths Tip #79 — Establish a period of time during which your character must accomplish his/her goal, demonstrate time ticking down, and make sure your readers know what is at stake if the buzzer rings before the goal is met.


Post #5: Antagonist

BRINGING HISTORY TO STORY: One Crazy Summer (Post #3 of 6)

Dear Allyson and Heather,

     I was drawn into One Crazy Summer partly because it's about the 60's, a time I vividly remember as a college student, participating in lunch counter sit-ins and voter registration in southeastern Tennessee. Although the Black Panthers were getting a lot of press for their political activities, I wasn't aware at the time that they sponsored social programs as well.
     So I was fascinated to read One Crazy Summer--not only as the story of three sisters and their relationships with one another and other members of their family, but also as a window into an organization that was far more complex and fascinating than I had realized at the time.
     In The Art and Craft of Writing Historical Fiction, James Alexander Thom clarifies the difference between historians and historical fiction novelists. He says,

[Historians] have to point backward from the present and, bearing the authority of their profession, declare what they believe happened back then. Those who read the prose of a historian understand that they are looking back.

But we novelists, and our readers, aren't looking back to the time. We are in that time, looking forward. We are living in the historical moment, through the vividness of our stories, and looking to the future to find our outcomes. (p. 28) 

     Williams-Garcia takes us back to be in that time by embedding clues to the period throughout the book.

1. Clues in narration: A clue to the time period can be as simple as a single word, like the word now superseded by "flight attendant":

A stewardess rushed to our row. (p. 11) 

2. Clues in dialogue: Williams-Garcia also uses dialogue to give readers historical context for the story:

"How can you send them to Oakland? Oakland's nothing but a boiling pot of trouble cooking. All them riots. " (p. 5)

3. Clues in description: Vivid descriptions clearly anchor the story in past time:

We sat at one of the two long tables. The classroom was unlike any I had ever been in. Instead of pictures of George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, and President Johnson, there was a picture of Huey Newton sitting in a big wicker chair with a rifle at his side. (p. 69)

 4. Clues in internal monologue: Historical information is also shared with readers through internal monologue:

I knew he meant her, Cecile, when he said Inzilla. I didn't know some of those other names. Only Huey Newton, the Black Panther leader, and Muhammad Ali, used to be Cassius Clay. (pp. 45-46)

 Thom says,

As much as you can, you must be like someone who has lived there, because you're going to be not just the storyteller but also the tour guide taking your readers through the past. (p. 154) 

Williams-Garcia is one awesome tour guide, using clues planted in narration, dialogue, description, and internal monologue to take readers back to a specific time and place in the past.



StorySleuths Tip # 78: When writing historical fiction, use clues planted in narration, dialogue, description, and internal monologue to take your readers back to a specific time and place in the past.  


Post #4: The Ticking Clock

DIALOGUE: One Crazy Summer (Post #2 of 6)

Dear Meg and Allyson,

I started One Crazy Summer knowing that the setting and time period—1968 in Oakland, California—would certainly make for a unique read, full of interesting historical details about the Black Panthers and Huey Newton. I had no idea it would also be so funny! The relationship between the three sisters is full of warmth and humor.

Take this passage of dialogue between the three sisters and their mother. Delphine, the narrator, and her younger sisters Vonetta and Fern have just traveled to the house of their estranged mother, Cecile.

I spoke first: “We’re hungry.”

As usual, my sisters’ voices followed on top of mine.

Vonetta: “What’s for supper?”

Then Fern: “Hungry. Hungry.” She rubbed her belly.

The girls go around this subject a few times with Cecile in the same pattern, Delphine with a broad statement of fact, followed by supporting details from Vonetta and then Fern. At last, Cecile asks for the money their father had sent with them.

I crossed my arms. There was no way she was getting our money. “That money’s for Disneyland,” I told her.

“To go on all the rides.”

“And meet Tinker Bell.”

This was the first time we heard Cecile laugh, and she laughed like the crazy mother she was turning out to be. “Is Tinker Bell going to feed you?”  (pp. 30-31)

This structure of dialogue takes place throughout the book: Delphine approaches their mother with a request or need, and Vonetta and Fern back her up. Williams-Garcia goes out of her way to highlight this pattern of speaking. In a moment of narration, Delphine reflects,

When my sisters and I speak, one right after the other, it’s like a song we sing, a game we play. We never need to pass signals. We just fire off rat-a-tat-tat. Delphine. Vonetta. Fern. (p. 77)

The girls riff off each other, so it’s important that Williams-Garcia establishes a clear pattern.

While the dialogue is interesting, funny, and witty, it also develops character. We can see the unity among sisters in the way the younger girls build on their older sister’s statements. The girls want the same things. They support each other. Here, they want Cecile to get them a television.

She said, “No one needs a television set.”

“We do,” I said.

“To catch our shows,” Vonetta said.

“Yeah,” Fern said. “To catch our cartoons.”

This is a rare case where Williams-Garcia includes dialogue tags for the girls. Many times, dialogue spins down the page without tags. In this next example, Vonetta and Fern gang up on Delphine:

“See, Delphine, you can’t tell us what to do,” Vonetta said.

“Surely can’t.”

“’Cause we’re going to the Center, and we’re going to the rally.”

“Surely are.”

“And we’re going to sing our song.”

“And do our dance.”

“And you can’t be in with us.”

Notice how quickly the dialogue jumps back and forth between Vonetta and Fern. Dialogue tags would simply slow down the back-and-forth between the girls. Williams-Garcia helps the reader know who’s speaking through a couple of directions. She tells us that Vonetta is talking to Delphine. The second speaker, though, isn’t Delphine replying. It’s Fern piping in, which the reader knows due to Fern’s signature word surely.

While I could cite many more examples of dialogue in One Crazy Summer, I’ll stop here. Suffice it to say that the dialogue works on so many levels: it develops the character of the sisters as a united group and as individuals; it shows their wit and spirit; and it provides moments of laugh-out-loud humor.

StorySleuths Tip #77: Look for ways to establish patterns of communication between characters as a way to show character on many different levels.

Post #3: Bringing History to Story