children’s novels by Alison McGhee

Weird Sad and Silent: a novel

Welcome to the world, Daisy Jackson! My new novel, Weird Sad and Silent, is available everywhere as of today, May 6. The idea for this novel came to me in a rush one day when a girl appeared in my mind and said, “To begin, my name is Daisy Jackson.” That became the first line of the novel. I sat down and began writing and then just kept on writing until Daisy had told me her whole story.

A couple things about Daisy: when stressed, she counts on her fingertips, under the table or behind her back, up to 111 and back down again, so lightly that no one will see. But one day, when she thinks she’s alone, she starts counting out loud, and the bullies notice and start calling her Weird Sad and Silent. After that awful day, Daisy learns how to invisibilize herself.

She’s seen and loved by a few people, though: her neighbor Lulu, who stays with her while her mama Flora works the overnight shift at Glorious Cleaning. The school librarian Marimba, whose library is always a place of refuge. Captain the custodian, who calls everyone by their first and last names and who’s always there to open the door for Daisy so she can slip into school early. Not to mention Rumble Paws, the feral cat who lurks around her apartment building. He’s scrawny and wary, most of one ear is missing, and he too knows how to invisibilize himself.

But one day a new kid shows up at school, Austin Roseau. He notices Daisy right away, no matter how invisibilized she thinks she is. And everything starts to change. This book is for the weird sad silent kids everywhere who, like Daisy and Austin, are actually funny and lovable and full of curiosity. It’s also for all the other kids and no-longer-kids who grew up like most of us did, witnessing bullying and hating it, and who ever since have sought to make the world a kinder, funnier, loving place.

Starred review from Kirkus: “A beautiful story of unvarnished honesty and tender hope—this courageous protagonist will capture every heart.”

Click here to order your own copy.

Minnesotans! Come to my book party!
I rarely do book events and I would love to see you at the book party for my brand-new novel, Weird Sad and Silent, in the world as of today. Please come to the launch party at Next Chapter Booksellers in St. Paul on Tuesday, May 27, at 6 pm. I’ll read a little, we’ll talk, we’ll celebrate, and there might even be some tiny gifts for you. Click here for all the details.

Pablo and Birdy: Immigration story #1

Posted on September 5, 2017 by alisonmcghee

pablo-and-birdy-9781481470261_hr Like all U.S. citizens but Native Americans, I’m descended from immigrants. One grandfather arrived on Ellis Island with his Russian Jewish family, fleeing the pogroms at the turn of the 20th century. My great-grandparents all came to this country in hopes of a better life, from Russia and Ireland and Denmark and Germany and France. Their journeys were, without exception, long and hard and painful.

One great-grandfather was sixteen years old when his mother died. He walked alone from the mountains –he was French Basque, born and raised in the Pyrenees Mountains– and stowed aboard a ship bound for New York City. He was discovered halfway across the Atlantic, put to work on the boat, and put in the brig when they docked in the harbor so that he could be returned to France. In the middle of the night he escaped and dove overboard into the frigid waters of the harbor and swam ashore. Sixteen years old. He emerged in lower Manhattan, where he lived for the rest of his difficult life. His is not the American rags-to-riches dream story most of us are fed from birth, but it is certainly an American story.

My new children’s novel, Pablo and Birdy, is about a boy named Pablo and his beloved parrot, Birdy. Pablo doesn’t know where he came from – he floated in to shore in the southernmost town of Isla one morning after a wild storm, tied into an inflatable raft.

Why was Pablo set adrift on the ocean, alone, with no one but a silent, fierce parrot to watch over him? Who was his first family, and why had they let him go? Had he done something wrong, screamed too much, been somehow unlovable?

There’s a legend in Isla, of a remarkable bird called the Seafaring Parrot, who holds within herself all the sounds ever made in the world, and who –under special circumstances– can reproduce them. If Pablo could just find a Seafaring Parrot, maybe he would learn something, anything, about his origins?

At heart, Pablo and Birdy grew out of my experiences as an adoptive mother and as someone who has worked with refugees and immigrant students my entire adult life. As Pablo’s adoptive father tells him, “There are many others in this world who had to leave their homes, for various reasons, and their journeys are long and hard.” Over the next week, I’ll be posting a few more immigrant stories, in hopes that our elected employees don’t forget that they too –every last one of them, so far as I know, and please correct me if I’m wrong– are descended from immigrants.