Boone Barnaby on iTunes

The podcast of Boone Barnaby is up and running on iTunes. Search the iTunes store for "Boone Barnaby" and then click on the "subscribe" button. The price? It's free.

Now how do I alert all the 10 to 12-year-olds of the world that this story is available and that they would like it? And that their parents will enjoy it just as much? (The great secret of children's books - the better ones, anyway - is that grown-ups usually enjoy them even more than their kids do.)

Seriously - how do you publicize to fourth, fifth, sixth graders? And how do you do it without spending any money?

For a free PDF of Boone Barnaby, click here. For a used paperback copy of the book - for the price of one penny (how do they make a profit?) - click here.

Living With Wood

Wood is alive. Even when it's dead. That's why we cut angle joints, so that as dry summer follows wet winter, these redwood 2x6's will ease apart and then ease back together without an ugly gap on top.

The board on the left was added 8 years ago when I extended my deck. The board on the right is part of the original deck built 29 years ago. On the older board, lichen is growing, and a leaf from a rose bush has fallen. The grain is raised - or, more accurately, the soft parts of the grain have weathered away, leaving the hard parts like ribs. I don't know how much longer that board can last, but it's already survived 29 summers, 29 winters, 3 snowfalls, 1 major earthquake and the relentless onslaught of insects, fungus, and children.

It isn't premium lumber. We call it Con Heart, meaning construction-grade heartwood, which usually has knots and flat grain from relatively young second growth redwood trees, which grow like weeds around here. Weeds that we love. Weeds that we feel guilty cutting down, and that provoke major battles whenever somebody submits a logging plan.

When these boards were installed, they were "green" - that is, wet. The trees are milled at the sawmill and sold at the lumberyard and installed before they dry out. When you cut them, your saw blade smokes. When you nail them, water squirts out, sometimes onto your face or into your eyes. To me it always seemed that the boards were bleeding, and that's why the book cover of Clear Heart shows blood oozing from a nail. That's the guilt of a carpenter, for all the world to see.

Hats and memories

Sometimes when my back hurts, I lie down on the hardwood floor, put a hat over my face, and take a short nap. Which is how my grandson discovered me.
Hats fascinate him.
He'll forget this day. Then years later, when he's old and his back is hurting, some strange compulsion will make him lie down on the floor with a hat over his face. He'll wonder why he's doing this - and why it makes him feel like a happy little kid again.

Living With Wood

Wood is alive. Even when it's dead. We don't just use it in the way we use concrete or steel. We live with it. We have a relationship. How we live with wood defines to some extent what kind of people we are—our values, our styles. Wood makes certain demands on us, and we have to accommodate wood even as we shape it to our needs—or our nests.

Here we have a small roof over a house entry. Besides the use of milled lumber, a decision was made 40 or 50 years ago to use small cedar poles with the bark still attached. The decision was partly practical: Small cedars grew in abundance around this house, so the supply cost nothing. It was also an aesthetic decision: The rustic style speaks of a tradition and of a love for what's natural.

It's a compromise. Most of the structure is low-grade wood from a sawmill, painted a neutral color so it fades into the background. The rustic elements stand out, though they are of less structural importance. The workmanship is competent. The joints are tight enough, the nails are strong enough. There's nothing flamboyant or high-end or high-ego about it. No notching, no hidden fasteners—just butt joints and rusting nails. A day's work, maybe less.

To me, this is the heart of carpentry. Working to a budget—both of time and of money—working within a tradition and a style, meeting a need, doing a job, nothing fancy—but nothing ugly or shoddy, either. It's a concept the birds understand.

You don't have to build high-end furniture to take pride in your work. You can use power tools and common wood and simple joints. You do the best with what you have—in skill, in tools, in time, in money.

In the days to come, I'll be returning to this topic of living with wood.

At my house

The two dogs are real. The cat is a stuffie who has been lying there for years.

Update: Boone Barnaby podcast is live! (but not on iTunes yet)

The headline says it all. The podcast should be live on iTunes in a few days. I'll post here as soon as I learn that it's up and running. For those of you who are smarter than me, you can subscribe right now through podiobooks.com at this link: http://www.podiobooks.com/title/boone-barnaby/

I love podiobooks for hosting my podcasts, but I simply cannot figure out their subscription mechanism. If you're under 30, you don't have to figure it out—you were born knowing how to do this. For the rest of us, we have to wait for iTunes.

The image shows the original hardcover of Boone Barnaby published by Scholastic in 1990.

Boone Barnaby: the PDF

In 1990 Scholastic published my novel The Adventures of Boone Barnaby. In a few days my podcast of the novel will be up on Podiobooks.com. I'll announce it when it's out. For a podcast, I had to shorten the title to Boone Barnaby so it would be visible on those tiny ipod screens.

The book is out of print. I had planned to republish it just to make it available, but I see that Amazon is selling used copies for one penny! (Then, of course, they charge $3.99 for shipping.) I can't beat that price, so if you want a printed book of Adventures of Boone Barnaby (Apple Paperbacks), just click on the link.

Or if you want a PDF or any format of e-book of Boone Barnaby, it's available at Smashwords. And Amazon has it available as a Kindle edition here.

Speaking of pennies, they tell me Boone came within a hair of being a Newbery Honor Book that year but that one voting member was outraged by its "controversial subject matter." Twenty years later, that controversial subject matter** seems remarkably tame. It's a lighthearted, joyful, down-to-earth story—the only kind I seem capable of writing. Oh well. I made about $5,000 on the book. With a Newbery, I would've made about 100 times that much. Writing books is like buying a lottery ticket. And the odds are about as good.

For the record, the Newbery Honor Book (which means second place) that year was The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle by Avi. In first place, the Newbery Medal winner was Maniac Magee by Jerry Spinelli. Good books, both of them.

**Controversial: There's some discussion of the Vietnam War as a less-than-noble endeavor. There's a father who smoked marijuana, didn't go crazy, and didn't go to jail. The word "fart" appears once. And one of Boone's friends has a "stepmom" who is living unwedded with a man. Shocking, isn't it? None of these items have much to do with a story that actually promotes rock solid family values. The book is in school libraries everywhere. Teachers read it aloud to their classes. Kids—and parents—send me e-mail saying "Thank you for writing this," and sometimes asking fascinating questions. It's for these things that I write, and keep on writing...