Shabanu by Suzanne Fisher Staples
There’s a really wonderful conference on multicultural children’s literature called Reading the World that is held every spring in San Francisco. There is always an amazing lineup of keynote speakers and session presenters. For example, this year Ed Young, Linda Sue Park, and Katherine Patterson were all there together, along with twenty or thirty other authors and educators.One of the best aspects of Reading the World is its intimate nature. With only a few hundred attendees and so many authors, you might find yourself walking down the hall with Nikki Grimes, or grabbing a muffin with Alma Flor Ada. Everyone is so friendly and accessible that you feel like you can just chat with the nearest passing Newbury author.
Shen’s Books has been one of the designated booksellers for the conference for several years now. Each bookseller is assigned a group of speakers and it is one of our jobs to ensure that each author’s books are represented for purchase by the attendees. Two years ago, I was assigned, among others, Suzanne Fisher Staples.
Of course I was familiar with all of Staples’ books, but I distinctly remember thinking how embarrassing it was that I had not read any of them. When it was time for her signing, she came to our booth where I had cleared a spot on a table for her. And then I didn’t know what to say. I wished I had read anything of hers so that I could bring it up, but I had nothing.
Despite my many, many encounters with famous authors, I am still entirely inept when it comes to making conversation with them. Actually, I shouldn’t blame authors—I’m fairly inept in any social situation that involves people I don’t know well. In any case, I tripped over myself with a few inanities and decided it would be better not to say anything at all than to say something stupid. We got through the signing, but Suzanne Fisher Staples probably thinks I’m a very unfriendly person.
A few weeks ago, I was flipping through the journal I keep of the books I’ve read. It used to include a paragraph or two of my thoughts on each book, but has, in the last few years, become just a list of titles, authors, and the date I finished each book. And there, there in black and white, there it is: "October 20, 1999: Shabanu by Suzanne Fisher Staples."
That is how bad my memory is.
Shabanu by Suzanne Fisher Staples

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