MAY 3, 2023 – Our seven-year-old granddaughter and I joke a lot about co-authoring children’s books patterned after her many favorite “silly series,” such as the Old Lady who Swallowed a [Something or other] or the Seussian classics that rhyme like “a lime on the nose of a Thing like our Zing with a ring.”
Every time I fix her favorite food—waffles embellished with chocolate chips and whipped cream—we repeat the following exchange:
“What kind of waffle does Grandpa make?” I start.
“Grandpa makes a mean waffle,” she says.
“That’s better than an awful waffle,” I say.
“An awful waffle with a [fill in the blank with something nonsensical, such as “hat” or “box of blue markers”],” she says, making direct fun of the Old Lady (who swallows a school bus or some other ridiculous thing).
The fun part of these whimsical books is that they make absolutely no sense whatsoever and the detailed, colorful illustrations are hilarious.
If I were to draft a proposal letter for one of our own crazy kid books, it would read as follows:
Dear [Book Agent][Publisher]:
I’m an aging Boomer who left the rat race to pursue my first love: writing and illustrating children’s books in partnership with our artistic, effervescent first-grader granddaughter. Family friends say we’re really good at it and that our books could easily become best sellers. Our friends should know. They have kids and have purchased thousands of dollars worth of children’s books.
For a limited time only, we’re giving you an exclusive opportunity to represent/publish our books—we have 100 ideas. Our first series is Snarky Malarkey and features a grandpa-like character who is always getting into trouble by being snarky and talking nonsense. Attached are a story proposal and some sample artwork. Together, let’s make a few million bucks—and that’s no malarkey. What do you think? We eagerly await your call.
Sincerely,
/s/ /s/
Me/Our granddaughter
THE PROPOSAL (BASED ON ACTUAL EVENTS):
- Malarkey’s roofing contractor calls to schedule gutter replacements. Malarkey reminds him that a fascia board needs to be replaced in conjunction with the gutter work. Contractor says, “No problem, Snarky. We’ll take care of it.”
- The next day, Gutter Guy appears with full crew in tow. Malarkey tells him about the fascia board. Gutter Guy says he’s a gutter guy, not a fascia board guy; tells Malarkey to find someone else to replace the fascia board before gutter work begins.
- Having noticed for the past several months, a “Travis the Handyman” truck parked in a driveway the next block over, Malarky assumes that another lawyer or banker decided to drop out of the rat race and go into business as a handy man (instead of becoming a best-selling children’s book author). Malarkey walks to presumed handyman house and rings front doorbell. The house is nice looking—good advertising for a handyman.
- A man comes to the door. “Are you Travis the handyman?” Malarkey asks.
“No, my name is Dave,” says the man. “Travis is remodeling our basement.”
Says Malarkey: “I’ve seen his truck parked in your driveway for a long time and assumed he lived here,”
“He practically does,” says Dave. “I work at USBank but am transitioning from my downtown office to working full time out of our house. I need dedicated office space, so we hired Travis to build it.”
“I’m Snarkey Makarkey. My wife and I live in the grey house—second place in on Idaho; you can see the rooftop from here.”
“Oh yeah,” says Dave. “You live two doors down from the Bradbury’s.”
“That’s right.” Malarkey explains fascia board problem and asks if he can borrow Travis for a minute to have a look. Dave says sure; says he’ll retrieve the handyman. (Cont.)
Subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.)
© 2023 by Eric Nilsson
