(no subject)
two children's books whose titles continue to elude me:
1) a picture book about a girl in a big house. I think she was alone, or at least explored on her own, maybe to get away from others. I vaguely remember a brown-toned picture of her going through a trapdoor into an attic; perhaps there was a secret passage at some point. it was all very peaceful and yet mysterious and exciting. all I know is that I loved that book - I love the concept of discovering secrets in big houses - but IIRC it was a library book that my grandmother borrowed more than once. I remember reading it at her house while the grown-ups were finishing dinner. I can't remember the story, but the feeling of the book seeped into my subconscious and has influenced every single thing I've ever written about characters wandering around large houses, which seems to pop up a lot in my writing.
2) that blasted series about the kiwi, one of which had him meeting up with a pink car that cried tears and then wiped them off with its windshield wipers, and its doors opened and the kiwi went in and the doors closed and idk what happened but I think the kiwi got kiwinapped, but then it became friends with the car in the end or something and it was all ok. I'VE BEEN SEARCHING FOR THIS TITLE FOR YEARS TO NO AVAIL. The books kind of creeped me out when I first read them, but they were such a formative part of my childhood literature. We actually owned the books and I read them a bunch of times even though the sentient car creeped me out, but maybe they were given away at some point because they are now nowhere to be found. again, huge influence on my writing.
I get this feeling that if I ever locate those books again, I'll uncover some great answers to life the universe and everything.
although I guess it's just as possible that finding them would ruin the magic, because children's books are never the same when you go back to them as an adult.
1) a picture book about a girl in a big house. I think she was alone, or at least explored on her own, maybe to get away from others. I vaguely remember a brown-toned picture of her going through a trapdoor into an attic; perhaps there was a secret passage at some point. it was all very peaceful and yet mysterious and exciting. all I know is that I loved that book - I love the concept of discovering secrets in big houses - but IIRC it was a library book that my grandmother borrowed more than once. I remember reading it at her house while the grown-ups were finishing dinner. I can't remember the story, but the feeling of the book seeped into my subconscious and has influenced every single thing I've ever written about characters wandering around large houses, which seems to pop up a lot in my writing.
2) that blasted series about the kiwi, one of which had him meeting up with a pink car that cried tears and then wiped them off with its windshield wipers, and its doors opened and the kiwi went in and the doors closed and idk what happened but I think the kiwi got kiwinapped, but then it became friends with the car in the end or something and it was all ok. I'VE BEEN SEARCHING FOR THIS TITLE FOR YEARS TO NO AVAIL. The books kind of creeped me out when I first read them, but they were such a formative part of my childhood literature. We actually owned the books and I read them a bunch of times even though the sentient car creeped me out, but maybe they were given away at some point because they are now nowhere to be found. again, huge influence on my writing.
I get this feeling that if I ever locate those books again, I'll uncover some great answers to life the universe and everything.
although I guess it's just as possible that finding them would ruin the magic, because children's books are never the same when you go back to them as an adult.