When Pigs Fly

Recently, I had the most amazing opportunity to collaborate with the brilliant Joshua Brunet on a children's book called, "When Pigs Fly." Josh conceptualized and illustrated the story, then asked me to put the words to it.

Being the busy little artists that we are, we have finished the book and sent our manuscript out to 10 different publishers. We are currently waiting on their replies.

In the meantime, I volunteered at a local elementary school where my friend, Melissa, teaches the third grade. Melissa introduced me to her class as "Mrs. Taylor, who is an Author." The kids gasped with excitement. Their eyes got big and they sat forward in their seats. (Or, rather, on the floor where their little butts were situated.;-)

"Does anyone have questions for Mrs. Taylor?" asked Melissa. Ten little arms shot into the air. (I have to comment here about how bizarely unnerving it is to sit in front of thirty, eager third graders.) The little faces turned toward me, eyebrows raised, hands waiving, and I felt the heat of adolescence all over again. Pick me, pick me, goes the eight year-old brain.

So one by one I called on them, trying to be as fair as possible. The first question was, "What sort of stories do you write?" This was an impressive question. Very pertinent and smart, I thought.

"Well, actually, I've written a story for children. It's about a pig who wants to fly."

Another forest of arms sprouted into the air. I picked the next one.

"I think I've read your story!" came the sing-songy voice, her words crooning like notes. "It's about three little pigs and a wolf."

"Uh, I didn't write that story. But it's a really famous one about pigs." I said in my best teacherly voice. "Good connection." I wiggled in my chair and pointed to the next little hand reaching for the air.

"I think I saw your book at the bookstore!" said the little girl with ribbons. "It was about a pig with a spider."

I opened my mouth, stunned. Then I tried to explain that while that was a really wonderful children's story called, "Charlotte's Web," it was not, in fact, the wonderful story I had written.:-/

I gathered myself and tried for a fourth question. I pointed to a boy in the back row with a bright red soccer shirt.

"I think my friend has the movie of your book. 'Babe'--" he began.

Without skipping a beat, Melissa stepped in and took things under control. "Uh people, Mrs. Taylor's book isn't for sale - yet. So you probably haven't seen it or read it anywhere."

This of course only made me sink lower in my chair!

Here's to flying pigs and feeble attempts at inspiring kids.;-)