thanksgiving

Yes, instead of the traditional picture of the matriarch carrying a roasted turkey, this is a picture of me carrying a trayful of turkey cupcakes. I know you're not surprised. This year, I traveled to Chicago to my sister's for Thanksgiving. While she and her husband slaved over the turkey, sweet potato tarts, cranberry bread and pumpkin pies, I contributed the turkey cupcakes.


These were made with (or in spite of) the help of my niece Lily, whom despite other's proclamations is the cutest niece ever. And while this photo doesn't even show a quarter of her cuteness, I had to include it as it shows one of her own turkey cupcakes (can you guess which one?)



These cakes seemed fairly popular with the kids, who promptly ate the decorations, licked off the frosting and then asked for another. However, with 2 pumpkin pies, an apple pie, a pecan pie and champagne jello, there were a lot of turkey cupcakes leftover.



And these are a lot harder to make sandwiches out of.

memory

This past weekend was my 10 year college reunion. I didn’t go because Robert has an allergic reaction to reunions. Last time we went to a reunion was about 5 years ago for my high school reunion. Robert broke out into hives he was so bored. And, he said, the hives were more interesting than the reunion.

I, however, had a pretty good time. My most unforgettable memory was meeting up with an old acquaintance that used to do all the lighting and tech stuff for the drama club.

“I’m a children’s book author/illustrator, now,” I told him, “What do you do?”
“Oh, I do lighting for shows and movies, that kind of thing,” he said.
“That’s great,” I said, “I can completely see you doing that. What shows have you done?”
“Oh, just some shows,” he said, “You probably haven’t seen any of them.”
“I might have,” I said, “Just name them.”
“Umm,” he said, “Well, I kind of don’t want to tell you.”
“Why?” I said, “Is it porn or something?”
“Well,” he said, “Yes.”
“Oh.”

That conversation pretty much ended in awkward silence. Though, my laughter about it on the car ride home could be heard for miles.

ugly vegetable

Today was Artbeat, an arts festival right around the corner from my home. Always a great time,I love walking the streets full of musical acts, art sculptures and vendors. So, while I was perusing the bright glass jewelry, a large green object caught the corner of my eye. What was that? Someone was dressed as a large vegetable. Was it a zucchini? Was it a squash? No! It was a bitter melon!

This vegetable is also known affectionately in my book The Ugly Vegetables as a ku gua. In the book, a mother, to the chagrin of her young daughter, insists on growing Chinese vegetables in her garden instead of flowers like the neighbors. The daughter, unenthused by the bumpy bitter melons growing in their garden labels them "ugly vegetables," only to appreciate them at the end when the mother makes a soup so enticing that the neighbors invite themselves over for dinner.

The Ugly Vegetables was my first published book and has been well loved and received since its release. When it first came out, I had grandiose ideas of trying to promote it--including having Ki-Ki dress up as a bitter melon. But, I was unsure of the appeal...I can honestly say there are not many picturebooks made about bitter melon, so its popularity as a character costume did not seem promising. However, here it was--a giant bitter melon parading around.

Considering the odds of this happening, I decided it was fate and ran back to my house and got my camera and my book. Not only did I need to document this, anyone who dressed up as a bitter melon needed to have a copy of The Ugly Vegetables. It just seemed mandatory.

adventures in ordering

It's Alvina's birthday! To celebrate the birthday of my oldest friend (oldest meaning longest friendship, not oldest as in age), I sent her what I've long suspected are the key to a children's book lover's happiness. CUPCAKES! (By the way, this theory has recently been proven correct as evidenced here).

But, the process of getting sugary sunshine to Alvina was quite harried. What seemed so straightforward: simply call the bakery and place my order became relatively complex--due to a bad phone connection and a foreign baker. Here is an excerpt of my conversation:

"Could you put letters on the cupcakes," I ask, "I'd like it to spell out 'Happy Birthday, Alvina."
"Yes," the man said, "Happy Birthday, Albina."
"No," I say, "Alvina--like Alvin with an 'A'"
"Albina," the man repeats.
"With a 'V'" I say.
"Yes, yes," he says, "With a 'B'"
"No, 'V'" I say, "V like vote."
"Yes," he says, "B, like boat."
"No," I say, "V like very."
"Yes," he says, "B like berry."
"V like venom?" I offer.
"D?" he says, "Denim?"
"vacuum?" I suggest.
"Oh, ok," he says, "I have it 'V' like backroom."

At this point, I decide to take his word for it and trust that a successful transaction has occurred. However, later, I must admit defeat. For instead of being sent to 'Alvina Ling' the cupcakes are sent to 'Albino Lane.' Happy Birthday, Albino!

false valentine

As the plagiarism-scandal-that-shall-not-be named hit my publisher, I found myself thinking how glad I was that the “The Year of the Dog” was almost completely a personal narrative. Hey, I could prove I didn’t copy anyone, just ask my mom! However, this is still not a safeguard when it comes to fact vs. fiction, either. During my recent Hi-Yah tour with Janet Wong, she relayed a story which went something like this:

"A long time ago, while I was visiting my grandfather he told me that one should never cut a Chinese string bean; that the full length of it symbolized love. When he told me this, the words struck me and I thought, how beautifully poetic. Later, when I began writing the poems for Good Luck Gold,his words came back to me and I wrote,

Chinese Valentine

They say
it is bad luck
to cut a long green bean.
I give you this bean, like my love—
whole, fresh.

From Good Luck Gold,by Janet S. Wong (McElderry/Simon & Schuster)

This poem became a great favorite and was even used for the front flap copy.

However, a couple of years after the book was published, while I was visiting my grandfather he served me a dish of Chinese string beans all cut up.
“Gong Gong,” I said to him, “You told me it was bad luck to cut up the string beans. That a full bean symbolized love.”
“Oh, Janet,” he laughed, “I was only joking!”'

This story made me laugh AND call my mother. Even though she does have an odd sense of humor sometimes, she insists none of her stories in my book are jokes on an unsuspecting 2nd generation.