The Fruits of Her Labor

Author Sara Pennypacker channels third grade in 'The Talented Clementine’

By Rick Margolis -- School Library Journal, 4/1/2007

I heard that your greatest ambition as a child was to play shortstop for the Boston Red Sox.

I haven’t actually given that up. I had a real narcissistic conviction that I was meant to be discovered. I used to try to play ball as close to the road as I could, so that scouts going by would see me.

You were a serious watercolor painter. Why did you give it up?

After a while, I came to a realization that I needed the world of visual art more than the world of visual art needed me. That was a profound turning point, about 10 years ago.

What led you to write children’s books?

That year I was homeschooling my children and I was spending a lot of time in libraries reading children’s books. On the one hand, I was moved by how much fabulous writing and art there was. My higher self was thinking, “I would love to do this.” Then there was my less-than-higher self, which was looking at some of the lousy stuff out there. My lower self said, “Eh, you could do that.”

Clementine is a fearless eight-year-old who often messes up. What was your inspiration?

I’m attracted to stories about things that strike me as unfair—and I just have to write something to correct that unfairness. For Clementine, it was about my two kids. I had a son like her. If we were diagnosing Clementine, I’m sure some letters would come out that I really don’t want to put on her. I don’t ever want to be the one who comes out and says, “Here’s an ADHD kid.” But I did see a lot about my own son that really didn’t seem fair. This was a kid who was always paying attention—and was always being told to pay attention.

What else is autobiographical in Clementine and The Talented Clementine? Did you ever have a kitten named Moisturizer?

We had one named Polka Dottie. Moisturizer was a friend of my son’s idea. My kids said, “The best names are in the bathroom”—and they were right. When I started to name the kittens in the first book, I went to CVS and cruised the aisles and said the names of products out loud. You’d be surprised what a beautiful word mascara is. Absolutely everything in Clementine was something that my children said. I rolled the two of them into one character. So it’s not really fair to say I wrote the book, as my son and daughter are always pointing out.

Clementine has often been compared to another plucky, impetuous heroine—Beverly Cleary’s Ramona. What’s your take on that?

Of course, it’s a compliment. When I look at the two characters I don’t think they’re that similar. But what is really similar is that Ramona is really a book about a functional family, and Clementine is really a book about a functional family, seen through the eyes of one third-grade girl who is having some difficulties. The point of my books is really about the kindness of the family. That’s where I think Ramona and Clementine have their strongest similarities.

When you talk to kids in schools, what are they curious about?

They always try to find out Clementine’s brother’s real name.

We should probably explain that in the first two books, her brother is never referred to by his actual name.

Clementine calls him a different vegetable name every day. But the little secret is that you can tell how she feels about him by which vegetable name she chooses. If she’s really had it with him, he’s broccoli or turnips. But when she’s feeling tender toward him—and she really, of course, loves him—he’s pea pod.

Do you plan to reveal his name?

No. Actually, it’s up to Clementine. There’s a story coming that might be the fourth book in the series, if we do it. You know, her brother is allergic to peanuts, and he will have an episode—and will go into the hospital. Clementine may, at that point, call him by his real name.