We went to Colorado a couple of weeks ago and I need to be honest: I used to get a little eye-rolly when some of you talk about Colorado. Can it really be that beautiful? I get it now. Mea culpa. Our two big kids skied with their dad while the 2-year-old and I luxuriated in the indoor splash pad most of the morning. It was a delightful trip and the perfect way to take a Real Live Break: I didn’t even take my laptop and was able to return to my current work in progress1 with fresh eyes and a lightened heart.
But today, I have a wild tale to tell you.
I’m a long-time devotee of my friend Sarah’s booklists for kids. I love to read seasonally, taking each of her lists of picture books at the beginning of a month and going wild on the library request list. This recently lead to my son devouring a great picture book called Wintercake by Lynne Rae Perkins.
He really enjoyed this book, as a read aloud and by himself. And I kept seeing the author’s name, Lynne Rae Perkins, Lynne Rae Perkins. It was like a song I’d heard once that I remembered a snippet of, but I couldn’t quite sing the chorus. It itched me just enough to be bothersome but not enough to open Mr. Google, so my thoughts moved to the pretzels on the floor that needed to be swept and the book that’s currently on deadline.
But every time I saw it, I got a jolt—Lynne Rae Perkins, what else did she write?—and quickly got pulled away to other things before I could search her name.
A few days ago, the siren song of GoodReads called out and I, who am known for being a tough cookie in my real-life circle, who has frequently preached the importance of ignoring reviews, who has straight up told her agent she’s an I-only-want-good-news-you-can-delete-rejections-silently girl, did the worst thing you could possibly do.
I logged on and read my bad reviews.
Why?! Why did I do this to myself?! I know not! Was I extra caffeinated? Was I already having a terrible day? Did I just feel like rolling around in a big ole mud pile of self-pity? Yes, yes, and yes.
I never, ever do this. I don’t even read my good reviews, except when I’m a weak little weasel and sometimes…do? Look, I understand that you should just focus on writing the best book you possibly can, and that reviews don’t sell books, and that they’re out of your hands. But here’s the thing. If you built a car but it just sat in your garage and nobody ever drove it, did you really build a car? You have no idea if it works. You have no idea if you did a good job! Someone needs to interact with the machinery to evaluate your efforts, and in the same way, it’s really hard to pour years of your life into a written work to simply release it and plug your ears. You do kind of sniff out the occasional back-pat.
But filtering by the 1-stars was a really masochistic move and I have no real answers for you except that I’m a freak, sometimes. Anyway.
After a good old I-suck crying session in which I texted my mom and ate an entire sleeve of Thin Mints, my two favorite coping mechanisms, it hit me like a wall. And while some of you will say it’s the weird way our brain processes memory and some of you will say it’s the Holy Spirit and I, being a weird little Catholic, will say both, here is the cold hard truth:
Lynne Rae Perkins wrote All Alone In the Universe.
This was immediately followed by the thought: no way. Of course she didn’t, because why would I remember the author of a middle grade novel I haven’t read in 20 years? That can’t be right. But I quickly whipped out my phone and Googled. And there it was—the proof. I was right.
You’re probably asking yourself (when is this tirade over? Hopefully not) What is All Alone in the Universe?
In fact, I’m almost certain you are. Because this strange middle grade novel was not popular. In fact, I have never met another person who even knew what this book was. (!!!) I’ve asked! I’ve brought it up! But everyone just always goes, huh, never read that one. It’s like the magical jeans from The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants but reversed. Like this book existed only for me in some kind of weird space-time continuum at the Pinney Branch of Madison Public Library.2
All Alone in the Universe was a realistic fiction story about a girl whose best friend ditches her for someone cooler. And…that’s it. No quippy backstory. No bigger social issue. No divorcing parents or lurking homelessness or magical witch neighbor casting spells. It is literally just about a girl who gets (and stays, sorry for the spoiler) friendship-dumped.
I, too, was friendship-dumped as a young girl. And it sucks. It sucks really badly, and it actually affected me for years, making me desperate to cling to any friends who came my way lest they walk past and latch on to the Cooler Girl instead.3 But this book was such a solace to me. I read it, I kid you not, maybe 32 times. I never actually bought it but preferred the worn down library copy, going to the shelf again and again and again to find P for Perkins. I did it so many times that the author’s name apparently stuck in my brain 20 years later, even though I’ve literally never heard it in any other context. We do not run in the same circles; we do not have mutuals. But she wrote a picture book my 7-year-old loves and a middle grade book that was a comfort to my heart in the time that it definitely needed comforting.
Why did that realization come to me just as I was feeling extra down in the dumps about my ability to write books for kids?
I don’t know. But here’s my best guess.
It’s so easy to forget why we tell stories. It’s so easy to refresh Kirkus and cross your fingers for a bigger advance next time; it’s so easy to pat yourself on the back for making ALA best-of lists and getting that Junior Library Guild Selection sticker. None of these things are wrong; in fact, they’re fantastic. The affirmation I got from What Happened to Rachel Riley’s flashy attention did encourage me occasionally, and remind me that I didn’t totally stink at this whole writing thing.
But that’s not why I write stories.
@WeDontWannaGrowUpPod on Instagram shared this photo recently with the caption of I’m 43 and have been trying to get back to the feeling of this photo for half my life:
I write stories for this girl, on a boat, who is living my dream life.
We look at that photo and we’re instantly zipped to a time when books were our greatest companions; when these safe little universes helped us work out our massive questions about who we were! And what we thought! And what we wanted! When our hearts were being formed by stories.
And there’s no Best of 2023 booklist, no 5 billion star GoodReads review, no prestigious award that can give you that feeling. There’s also no terrible 1 star tirade, no angry accusations of bad content, no rescinded school visit invitations that can take it away.
All Alone in the Universe, by Lynne Rae Perkins, formed me. If you get a chance to read it, I hope you do. And I hope you find the books that form your heart, too.
Mark your calendars:
3/12/24: Come celebrate the launch of The Funeral Ladies of Ellerie County at Books and Company in Oconomowoc, WI at 6:00 PM! Goodies, gift bags, and giveaways will ensue. Just a casual get-together for friends, family, and readers!
3/26/24: Join us at the Waterford Stillhouse in Waterford, WI, at 6:30 PM, where I’ll be the featured author in the very popular Cocktails and Conversation series! I’ll be sipping a cocktail, answering your questions, and signing books. Tickets must be purchased in advance and include a hardcover copy of the book. Space is limited. Register here.
And lastly, a book I’ve loved lately for…
Kids: The Princess and the White Bear King by Tanya Batt is a gorgeously illustrated folktale. But be warned—it’s significantly longer than your average picture book. It was *perfect* for my 5-year-old daughter, who isn’t reading confidently on her own and also doesn’t sit still very well for read-aloud novels. We had a lovely time reading this together.
Middle graders: I wanted to read some of the other Edgar nominees for middle grade this year, and I thoroughly enjoyed The Jules Verne Prophecy by Larry Schwarz. A fun romping mystery with a boy protagonist, which are so needed in the MG sphere. Extra points for taking place in Paris, my favorite city!
Adults: I just whipped through The Last Grand Duchess by Bryn Turnbull and loved it. If you, too, have a weird niche obsession with the Romonovs, it’s a winner!
Thanks for reading along!
-Claire-
A historical fiction middle grade releasing in 2025!
This is, quite obviously, not true. It was published in 1999 and a quick Google search told me that while it’s no longer in print, it was actually a popular and award-winning book but STICK WITH ME, HERE.
You might be picking up on The Kate In Between themes here and you would be right!
Love this so much!!!
As soon as you said "Lynne Rae Perkins" it made me think of Criss Cross, which is also a book of her's that I feel like no one's read...even though it won the Newbery!