I was tagged on Twitter the other day in connection to the Harry Allard essay I wrote as part of my Marshall Fellowship. That tag was a first, in fact, (if you don’t count me retweeting myself from my alt accounts) it doesn’t seem to get a lot of attention on the bird app. Twitter does suppress external links, but even if it didn’t, I just don’t know if people are in the habit of going to blogs anymore (he says as he spends another afternoon updating this one). But heed my word, reader: if you’re not visiting blogs, you’re missing out! There is a treasure trove of Jim related materials over at the UCONN Archives and Special Collections blog.
For day four of James Marshall’s birthday week, here’s a roundup of the Marshall Fellow articles.
The process of researching involves looking through the digital catalogue with whatever search terms are relevant to your research. For me it was “James Marshall Miss Nelson Viola Swamp”. The database returns a list of boxes with their relevant contents. You fill out a form requesting one of these boxes (in this case #5), hand it to an archivist who retrieves it from storage and brings it to the reading room. Going into this I didn’t know if I was going to be required to wear white gloves as I went through the materials. I wasn’t, but I did find out pens are not allowed (you can only take notes in pencil). I wasn’t worried that I was going to spoil any originals, but I did feel a great sense of anticipation before opening the box. When you open it, this is what you find:
The number of materials presented to you can be overwhelming, but luckily I had an area of interest (Marshall’s collaborations with Harry Allard) to help me stay focused. I also told myself to take snack and brain breaks, I didn’t want to find myself with a massive headache halfway through my research.
Spoiler: I did, in fact, take picture of everything.
I definitely overdid it on pictures, but figuring this was a once in a lifetime situation, I wanted to be able to have as many resources available to me as I worked on my UCONN paper and Marshall’s biography (that’s the “homework” I’m referring to). Looking back, I should have traded a couple hours at the camera for the chance to get another box from the archives. In some ways they’re like boxes of chocolate, you never know what you’re going to get.
As I mentioned, the boxes are catalogued by their contents. The archivists, as they catalogue the materials, list every keyword that might be of relevance to a researcher. In this case my search for “Viola Swamp” returned Box 13 which held Marshall’s work on CINDERELLA (in some of the sketches one of the stepsisters was drawn as Viola Swamp). This wasn’t relevant to my research but the discovery was a happy accident, I gained a new appreciation for Marshall’s illustration with this diversion.
I was slow to appreciate Marshall’s illustrations. I think there’s often a crudeness to how he handles perspective and it can be hard for me to tell what is purposeful and what is accidental. Seeing the originals for CINDERELLA convinced me that his choices are deliberate. I’m coming to understand his drawings more and more.
On the other hand, his storytelling and processes as a writer are clear. I feel like I know exactly what he’s going for when he builds a story and I can almost track his choices through his manuscripts. I see some of the same in my work. Not just in how we work, but in how we see our work. I’ll never know how much alike we are, but if you’re going to compare yourself to anyone, why not one of the greats?
THE MELTED REFRIDGERATOR is a hefty (just look at the picture) autobiography by Marshall’s landlord-turned-friend, Francelia Butler. I scanned through this huge stack of papers for anything relevant to Marshall. There was a short bit that hints at Marshall’s sexuality. While known to be gay (at least to friends and colleagues), Marshall being a gay creator didn’t appear in any of the materials I looked at.
The Francelia Butler box came with a whole bunch of personal correspondences. She ran a series of “kiddie lit” lectures at the university and there were letters from some creators (Sendak) thanking her for the opportunity to speak and others (Seuss) sending their regrets that couldn’t participate. Each of these notes were handwritten and some had doodles. They were wonderful to see but it left me wondering:
Back to my research. I had almost exhausted the Miss Nelson related materials so I wanted to be sure to check out the audio and video part of the collection. In that I found a video of Marshall talking about working with Harry Allard.
This discovery wrapped up my feelings about the Marshall/Allard collaborations so I felt a bit more free to indulge myself in looking at other materials. I went to something Julie Danielson had insisted was not to be missed, the box of Marshall materials donated by Maurice Sendak. It held a very funny back and forth between the two friends where they exchanged some catty remarks about a fellow picture book creator.
It also held two THE OWL AND THE PUSSYCAT dummies which (as I clumsily attempted to write in my journal) took my breath away. That was followed by a visit with Bill Gray, Jim’s surviving partner.
I did spend some time outside the library. Besides visiting Bill, I went for a hike, went for a run, and had dinner with an aggressively friendly roommate.
It was a whirlwind of a trip and things were wrapping up quickly.
That’s the broadest view of my research trip. In all, I had 24 pages of notes and something like (no joke) 1,000 photographs. Wanting to preserve my memories as best I could, I took my last half hour of the trip to capture the moments that happened at the end of the day on Friday.
It was definitely an experience to appreciate. I’m forever grateful to Kristin Eshelman and Melissa Watterworth Batt for the opportunity. It’s worth mentioning that the library and its materials are available to researchers with or without the Fellowship. You don’t even need to make the trip in person, there’s a form for requesting digital scans of any material in the collection (it costs something, but not a lot). Still, though, there’s nothing like holding an original work by a creator you admire in your hands.
Madeleine asked in my last post if I could talk about my research process and my experience looking through the James Marshall Papers at the University of Connecticut. In response, here’s an excerpt from the journal I kept at that time:
“I hope all the pictures I am taking turn out. I feel like I could have the flash on. I am shooting in RAW format which should allow me to adjust the white balance later. If I ever do. I want to document as much as I can but I also want to be present with the work. I want to strap a Go-Pro to my head and film an unboxing but I also kind of don’t want to share this with anyone.”
Yeah, remaining present during my week in the archives was a top priority. If my handwriting seems particularly tidy in that photo, it’s because I forced myself to take my time with every part of the experience. Looking back, I might have just dived fully into the work and immersed myself in Marshall’s sketchbooks (I sometimes wish I did) but I am glad that I have this record of my research. The reason I’m excerpting that portion above is that bit at the end about not wanting to share the experience with anyone. If you’ve followed me on social media or watched any part of my livestreaming, you know I’m very open about my process, inspirations and perspective. I tend to be a lot more closed on the subject of James Marshall, at least on the part that involves ME, because talking about it sometimes feels self-serving. I’d rather the attention be on Jim himself.
There’s another part to that line that may sound slightly covetous, that I wanted to keep the experience to myself. And I did, but not for the reason you might think. I’ve always had this feeling, when hearing creators talk about their work, that at some point their story becomes an anecdote. Maurice Sendak describing, for example, for the thousandth time the editor who wanted to change the temperature of Max’s dinner from “hot” to “warm”. At what point does it change from Sendak talking about the importance of staying true to yourself to Sendak reciting a cute story he knows people love to hear? Is there even a difference? To me there can be, I do know that the week I spent with James Marshall’s original works was incredibly special to me and I didn’t want to dilute the experience by turning it into a series of 140-character one-liners. This attitude softened two years after my time in Connecticut with Kai-Fai Steele’s turn at the Fellowship when she shared a whole lot of photos on social media and I saw how much richer the experience could grow when you opened it to other people.
So that’s where I’m at. I feel more open to talking about my personal connection to Marshall’s works and to some degree my connection to Marshall himself. And I think ultimately this will give me a deeper understanding of the story I want to tell. That I’m telling. Sooooo… yes, Madeleine, I will happily share excerpts from my journal and talk about my research. It’s going to have to wait until tonight, though, because I have a whole bunch of donuts to make right now.
Illustration of “Buddy McGee” the bulldog in Marshall’s Beacon Hill studio.
Alright, I asked you yesterday which Edward inspired James Marshall. You had the choice of Edward Gorey, Edward Ardizzone, and Blake Edwards. The answer?
The gentleman on the right is none other than Edward Gorey. And, yes, Marshall considered him a master (alongside Maurice Sendak) of picture book illustration. You can see Gorey’s influence in Marshall’s earliest work. Here’s a page from PLINK, PLINK, PLINK (Baylor, Marshall, 1971).
You can see Marshall’s working hard to capture the atmosphere in Gorey’s work and in some places he’s successful (that tree, especially) but his crosshatching isn’t there. Lines in crosshatching are often oriented to follow the form of the object they’re decorating. Marshall accomplishes this in some places (the sloping bannister and the ball top) but in a rudimentary way. Crosshatching can also be used to denote the illustration’s light source but the shading is indistinct and, in some cases contradictory, (the ball at the top of the post is shaded on the left, the post itself is shaded on the right). Mostly, he’s using crosshatching to fill space.
Marshall would later find his strengths in shape, form, and composition to give his characters volume.
GEORGE AND MARTHA ROUND AND ROUND (1988)
But he’d never give up using at least a slight bit of crosshatching. Or in the following example, a lot. Here’s three attempts at filling in Old Mother Hubbard’s skirt, none of which were used as the final art (please excuse the dim quality of the first two pictures, I took these in a low-light archival setting, the last photo is darker and triggered my camera’s flash… if the original should suddenly dissolve, you know who to blame).
from the Thomas J. Dodd Library JAMES MARSHALL PAPERS, University of Connecticut
from the Thomas J. Dodd Library JAMES MARSHALL PAPERS, University of Connecticut
from the Thomas J. Dodd Library JAMES MARSHALL PAPERS, University of Connecticut
The final? It’s wonderful. That drapery is a hard effect to achieve in any technique. James Marshall absolutely nails it here. It’s incredibly intentional (as is my jeans folds being kept in the image).
OLD MOTHER HUBBARD AND HER WONDERFUL DOG (1991)
Oh, incidentally, today (the tenth) is James Marshall’s birthday. Maybe I’ll dip my pen in ink in honor of the occassion. As for the rest of the week… I’m playing it by ear, I’m not sure what else I’ll talk about. If you have any Marshall questions you’d like answered, let me know and I’ll do my best to answer them. See you tomorrow!
I might have done this ahead of my DONUTS FOR EVERYBODY’s release but the audio only came to me last Thursday. Author Jess Yoon sent me a recording of her two firecrackers reading my book and I couldn’t resist making an animation of it.
If you’re wondering, it wasn’t me they were calling scary (I edited their commentary into the audio I used above). Can you guess which donut out of all 578 donuts in the book they thought was scary? Download the book here to see for yourself…
If you ever doubted a person could talk about paper donuts for three hours and forty minutes, I will point you to my last post and perhaps change your mind. If you ever doubted a person could talk about James Marshall for a five days, I will invite you to join me in a celebration of James Marshall’s life this week.
October 10th is James Marshall’s birthday, October 13th marks his passing. I usually acknowledge one or both of those days on Twitter where I’ll share some kind of Marshall-related resource. It doesn’t make sense to do that there any more, so I’m going to bring the party here instead.
It’s So Nice to Have a Wolf Around the House (Allard, Marshall, 1977)
Today, October 9th, is Indigenous Peoples’ day so it feels fitting to open with my own article about Marshall’s appropriation of Native American headdresses in his art. You’ll find that post here (don’t be frightened off by that title, it’s actually a quick read):
Given the uneven rollout of these Dozen Days and the fact that the book is out and has been plastered all over social media lately (to my great delight, thank you everyone for posting your pictures!!), calling this a cover reveal is probably a bit misleading. Let’s call it a cover review.
Note: the following is copied from my Kickstarter updates, posted on August 17, 2023
Cover reveals are exciting, no doubt, but they also feel fraught to me. They’re your book’s first introduction to the world and you hope it makes a good impression. But forget even a “good” impression, at the most basic level you have to start with knowing what impression it is you want to make.
I had this idea I wanted to do something with a donut-shaped planet. It would be our Earth floating in the empty vastness of space, but we’d be together, safe, united by our love for warm obloid pastry. I was pretty certain this is the vibe I wanted and I made the following donut, intending to paste it against a starry background.
It’s cute but it wasn’t doing it for me. Not in a cynical “the world is more of a burnt Pop-Tart” sense, mind you, just in that this concept didn’t match the content of the book. Despite the pink-frosting clouds (which I love), the energy in the piece felt kind of low. The book, I believe, is more exciting than what this cover promises.
As I thought about it, my mind kept going back to this image, a collage I did with a group of fourth graders five and a half years ago.
Shrekfast is the Most Important Meal of the Day (Ms. Galvez’s class, 2018)
I love the energy in this piece and I could imagine an explosion of donuts (and words) working as an exciting cover. I did a sketch:
I liked this and appreciated that it felt connected to one of my favorite donuts in the book (Galaxy Donut). Not to mention the Big Bang metaphor felt appropriate as this whole project grew out of something very small (a tweet). Still, I couldn’t bring myself to move on the final art. I might have been dispirited by my first failed attempt, or maybe I knew there was a better idea waiting. Whatever it was, I did another sketch.
Now THIS… I knew this was exactly the direction I wanted to go. A box, a gift. Surprises within. It’s also a direct reference to the start of the project, the original dozen donuts I bought on that fateful morning last June. My mind was set.
It would take me a short while to figure out how best to execute the illustration. In the end, I composed the picture digitally. These are all my original painted papers but I scanned them as full sheets and collaged them digitally. This is the only piece in the whole book created that way and I did miss working with knives and glue but I knew I had so many elements going on in this image that I needed the flexibility of an adjustable image. Each element (title, donuts, box, background) exists on its own layer and can be edited individually. Here’s a week or more of of that process condensed into half a minute.
Totally worth it. I mean that honestly, no snark. I couldn’t be happier with how this turned out and I hope you are too.
Want to hold this cover in your hands? Pick up your own copy of DONUTS FOR EVERYBODY here!
We’re picking up where we left off on the third last day of the pre-launch extravaganza! Where have I been all month, you ask? Well, there was a hiccup with the printer that resulted in a three week production delay. It was disappointing to have the Dozen Days interrupted and my concocted-on-the-fly plans put into limbo, but all in all it was a positive thing—the three week delay gave me space to slow down and look at my to-do list and catch up with some unfulfilled donut rewards and (gulp!) untallied campaign receipts. But that’s old news! We’re back on track, books have been rolling out and people have been receiving them. Twitter and Instagram are a-buzz with pictures of books in homes across the US (and as of tonight, Canada), so let’s jump back to the matter at hand.
If you remember the original schedule, the plan for today’s post was a discussion about some of the practical decisions that went into printing my book.
I decided early on that I wanted my book to be printed in an environmentally sustainable way. This meant, for me, not just the highest grade recycled paper and least toxic inks, but a company that is as local to my area as possible. Fortunately, I have this option in Greenerprinter, an eco-conscious print house located a mere forty minutes from my front door. They do good work. The paper stock is an 80% post-consumer recycled paper that has the warmest matte feel. The colors, printed in soy-based inks, do great justice to the originals (color fidelity was, in fact, my number one printing concern). I honestly couldn’t be happier with the final product.
photo by Abraham Schroeder
I mean, look how good these look!!!
photo by Savannah Elmore
I thought I might talk about my decision to go with softcover, there’s something to be said about how publishers in other countries often print paperback editions first, then, if there’s demand, issue a special edition hard cover and how maybe, ultimately, going with hardcover is a vanity thing. I don’t know enough to know if that’s true across all creators, publishers, and countries. I can say for myself personally, I had been hoping to go with a hardcover book.
photo by complex.com
From the first moment I decided to make the donut book I planned to do it in the style of CHARLIE HARPER’S ANIMAL KINGDOM. That book is a massive 288-page, 12 by 18 inch coffee table tome. I was willing to make DONUTS FOR EVERYBODY a bit more modest in size and scale (I aimed for 144 pages and 9 x 12 inches) but I wanted to stick with hardcover. This is where things got a little complicated. Greenerprinter doesn’t offer hardcover, and places that did, don’t offer the best recycled paper choices. The difference in cost, as it turns out, wasn’t all that great. The decision would come down to the paper I wanted to use.
photo by Steena Hernandez
As you can see in the picture above, DONUTS FOR EVERYBODY is to be held close and appreciated in the way you’d hold close and appreciate a warm donut. I wanted the book to feel as good as it looks and I didn’t want any crinkly, plasticky, coated papers. Don’t get me wrong, I still liked the idea of having a hardcover book, both for my ego and for the book’s durability (I also hope the book is something people return to when they feel the need for a creative pick-me-up). But only after a short battle between my hard head (and vanity) and my soft heart (and love of trees and kids), I made up my mind. I decided to go with softcover.
No regrets. Because, honestly, doesn’t this book look good?
photo by Stephanie V.W. Lucianovic
Want to know what this paper feels like? You can order your own copy here!
