Why I Became a Writer

This is an excerpt from issue #10 of Graff Paper, my monthly newsletter. Sign up now and I’ll send you a free book or audiobook—while supplies last! (U.S. addresses only, please.)

I’ve Got the Whole World in My Hands—I’d Better Not Drop the Ball

“Why did you want to become a writer?”

Earlier this year, I announced my intention to begin a deep, soul-searching essay probing this question. As projects piled up and each month became busier than the last, I took many mental notes for that essay but I have yet to begin it.

But I am asked that question several times each week by kids during the Q&A part of my virtual school visits. (They also show enduring interest in when I published my first book, how many books I’ve written, how long it takes to write a book, and which one is my favorite.)

For years I’ve answered the “why” question with generalities, saying, “I don’t know—I think I’ve always been a writer.” When I was five, I explain, I told a story to my father, who typed it up and made it look tantalizingly professional; when I was in sixth grade, I wrote, drew, and assembled little hardcover books; when I was in high school, I wrote a novella. I add that I loved to read and always dreamed of being an author on the shelf next to writers I admired.

I like writing because I decide what happens.

But I never answered that question in a way that satisfied me until a couple of weeks ago, when I dug deeper than I had before. I thought about the feeling of peace and satisfaction that comes over me when I’m writing. I pondered the pleasures of building something out of words.

And I said something like, “I like writing because I decide what happens. The real world can be a confusing and unpredictable place—it feels that way more than ever this year, doesn’t it?—but when I’m telling a story, I’m creating a world where I’m in control of everything, and it’s nice to escape to a place like that for a little while every day.”

Zoom school visits have their disadvantages: I can’t hear murmurs or laughter, and body language can be hard to read. And yet I still felt that answer resonate. With a contentious election looming, a pandemic raging, and so much uncertainty in the air, I could tell kids were taking that on board. I saw teachers nodding.

Writing it down now, it feels like a simplistic answer and yet it still feels like the truest one.

Over the years, I’ve spoken to thousands upon thousands of young readers, and at each stop, I hope that I’ve inspired a few of them to read more books and to write their own stories. I hope they feel empowered to imagine a better fictional world—and I hope they grow up to help us create a better real world, too.

Curriculum Guide for The Matchstick Castle

Just this morning, I put the finishing touches on the layout of an amazing curriculum guide for The Matchstick Castle, my second guide written by the esteemed educator Christina Hoover Moorehead. If you are a teacher considering this paperback book for classroom use, I urge you to download the guide and take a look!

Want to bring me to your school? Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, I am waiving my honorarium for virtual visits for the foreseeable future. Whether you’d like me to meet with a book club or present to all of your fourth- and fifth-graders, please get in touch!

You can also download a flyer about my current virtual author visit and—to assist in planning—my virtual author visit checklist.

A few screenshots from the curriculum guide:

How to Tell Jokes When You Can’t Hear Laughter

This is an excerpt from issue #9 of Graff Paper, my monthly newsletter. Sign up now and I’ll send you a free book or audiobook—while supplies last! (U.S. addresses only, please.)

Keir Graff school visit

One true joy of my writing life is visiting schools in person to share my middle-grade novels. Yes, school visits have a business purpose, but there’s more to it than that: as I explain how books work, I try to inspire kids to be brave writers and insatiable readers. Having learned over the years to hold the attention of hundreds of wiggly fourth- and fifth-graders in libraries, auditoriums, and gyms, I am now able to relax in the moment and enjoy the connections we create. I never fail to feel energized afterward.

This year, all my school visits are virtual, a wrinkle the size of the Rocky Mountains. As I labored to create a presentation for The Tiny Mansion, I had so many questions: Will I be able hold the attention of screen-stunned students? How will we interact? What if we have Zoom-bombers?

I’m pleased to report that virtual school visits are completely worthwhile.

By making my presentation shorter than ever before (20-25 minutes), but with even more slides (72!), and audience polls, I figured I’d probably done as much as I could do on my end. But that was only half the struggle. Stressed, overworked educators are still learning to manage large groups on Zoom and Google Meet. Every school district has its own unique way of doing things—and some of them, out of concern for keeping kids safe, make it almost impossible for librarians to bring in authors.

Would the students and I even have fun?

I’m pleased to report that virtual school visits are completely worthwhile. Yes, they’re a high-wire act, but the technology isn’t nearly as much of a barrier as I’d expected. The biggest issue for me is that, because the kids are on mute, I can’t hear them laugh—but I can see their faces, and in those tiny rectangles I can distinguish excitement, engagement, and even nerves as they work up their courage to ask a question. When they unmute, I can hear their voices, and for every “this is more of a comment than a question,” there’s a query that challenges me to rise to the occasion.

And as for the teachers and librarians, I’m hard pressed to identify a more indomitable bunch. It isn’t easy on the students’ side of the screen, but to see teachers adapt lesson plans on the fly, learn new technology on short notice, manage atomized classrooms, and do it without all the tools of physical presence has been truly astonishing. One of the sweetest scenes I’ve seen so far was kids cheerfully helping their librarian, whom they obviously loved, locate the dashboard button she was searching for.


Last spring, I planned to write this newsletter about the disparities in resources I often see on school visits. Sometimes when I walk into a building, it’s immediately apparent that a school has a wealth of tax dollars and parent volunteers, as well as students who are used to seeing authors regularly. I’ve also often seen the exact opposite far too many times. On my first virtual visit, I had a fleeting, happy thought that Zoom might level the playing field and make it harder to see some of those differences. But this was soon followed by a much more troubling thought—that I may not end up seeing any of those under-resourced schools at all.

But I’ll keep trying.

Video: THE THREE MRS WRIGHTS Launch Event!

Last night, I celebrated the release of The Three Mrs. Wrights, the latest novel by “Linda Keir”—AKA the writing team of Linda Joffe Hull and Keir Graff. We were joined by the best-selling Victoria Helen Stone, a prolific and wonderful writer you probably know already!

Technical difficulties forced a late start and a last-minute scramble to change the platform, but hopefully the forty or so viewers who stuck around enjoyed the conversation as much as we did!

Click here to learn more about The Three Mrs. Wrights and Victoria’s latest book, Problem Child.

The Three Mrs Wrights by Linda Keir

Curriculum Guide for The Tiny Mansion

Just this morning, I put the finishing touches on the layout of an amazing curriculum guide for The Tiny Mansion that was written by esteemed educator Christina Hoover Moorehead. If you are a teacher considering my new book for classroom use, I urge you to download the guide and take a look!

Want to bring me to your school? Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, I am waiving my honorarium for virtual visits for the foreseeable future. Whether you’d like me to meet with a book club for a Q&A or present to all of your fourth- and fifth-graders, please get in touch!

A few screenshots from the curriculum guide:

Download the Tiny Mansion curriculum guide now!

Running across Montana

(In my mind.)

Recent tragedies have proven yet again that our country polices its citizens unequally, COVID-19 continues to spread, and cities are in turmoil as our wannabe strongman leader auditions for autocrat. It feels strange not to write about any of it this month, but the last thing anyone needs right now is another white guy sharing his feelings. My job is to listen, learn, and actively educate myself, and that is what I am doing. We all have a part to play in making meaningful change.

Highway 93

I didn’t even notice that Sunday, May 17, was the one-year anniversary of my last day as executive editor of Booklist. Funny that I would forget to observe such a personally significant date: at the time, the decision to leave my employer of 17 years felt momentous. I knew it was time to go, but leaving behind the security of the job I knew so well was both exciting and frightening.

I shouldn’t have worried. While the past year has had ups and downs, it’s been personally and professionally fulfilling. I’ve celebrated the publication of two books (Drowning with Others and A Million Acres) and completed two others (The Three Mrs Wrights and The Tiny Mansion). I’ve found rewarding sidelines as a ghostwriter (a natural for someone who already enjoys using pen names) and freelance editor. I’ve had conversations about some very interesting jobs—I’m not at all ruling out a return to the office—but I’m fortunate to be in a position where I can wait for the perfect fit.

I now run a small business, and while I still have a lot to learn about that, it suits my skills and interests because I enjoy balancing creative solo work with collaboration and even sales, marketing, and (gasp) accounting. At the moment I have all the work I can handle while awaiting green lights on several creative projects. For my morning “me time,” I’m taking a break from writing poetry to revise and complete a desk-drawer novel I dusted off at the start of lockdown.

The Graff home office has become larger as Marya works long days at a desk in our bedroom and Felix and Cosmo finish out the school year at the dining-room computer, on a laptop that travels from room to room, and using their ubiquitous phones. Each cat is adjusting in her own way to the sudden influx of coworkers: Toothless carves out her own space to snooze quietly, while Totoro indulges her need for constant dialogue and fights tooth and nail for my office chair.

Unable to enjoy in-person cocktails with my human colleagues, running has been more important than ever to me over the past three months—but more difficult to enjoy, due to Mayor Lightfoot’s lockdown of the Chicago lakefront. Long weekend runs with my friend Peter—part exercise, part therapy—have been taken off the table. Looping a homemade mask over my ears, I’ve taken to side streets, alleys under the L, and other less-than-ideal routes where I have to remain wary of both vehicular collisions and invasions of personal space.

Just last week, my family made the difficult decision to cancel our annual reunion in Montana. Sure, it’s probably safe, but who wants to use the word probably in conjunction with their loved ones’ lives? Just to pretend I’m visiting my home state, I set myself a summer goal of running the length of Highway 93, from Chief Joseph Pass at the Idaho border, to Roosville, British Columbia, in no more than 93 days. #93in93 has a nice ring to it, I think.

And just yesterday I reached Darby. As I mentally plod my way up the Bitterroot Valley, if you are actually in Montana, please send me a virtual wave—or even better, a picture.

From issue #5 of Graff Paper. Click here to view other issues and subscribe.

A Bookstore Life List

life list: a record kept of all birds sighted and identified by a birder

The world may have turned upside down, but spring is here and the birds are returning to Chicago. I love watching them, even though I can name precious few. (I’m too embarrassed to admit when I stopped calling sparrows “parking lot birds”—they always seemed to be hopping around on the asphalt.) A few weeks ago, I was out on a (safe, socially distanced) walk and worrying about my friends’ bookstores when the twittering of birds gave me the idea of starting a bookstore life list.

Nerd alert! But bear with me: you feel embarrassed if you haven’t seen the obvious ones. You feel a sense of accomplishment at watching your collection grow. There’s a distinct thrill in discovering one you never knew existed . . . and genuine anguish when any of them go extinct.

So I’ve started mine. This first draft has shameful gaps and I know I’ve forgotten too many. But it gives me something to look forward to, after all this is over—getting back on the road, exploring, meeting people, buying books I may never have time to read. And what could be more life affirming than that?

(u) = used, * = out of business

California

City Lights (San Francisco)
A Great Good Place for Books (Oakland)

Colorado

Second Star to the Right (Denver)
Tattered Cover (Denver)

Florida

Gene’s Bookstore (Sanibel Island)

Illinois (Chicago Area)

57th Street Books
After-Words
Anderson’s Naperville
Armadillo’s Pillow (u)
Barbara’s (Wells) *
Book Cellar
Book Stall
Book Table
Centuries and Sleuths
City Lit
The Dial
Gallery Bookstore (u)
Lake Forest Bookstore
Madison Street Books
Myopic Books (u)
Open Books (u)
Powell’s
Quimby’s
Ravenswood Used Books (u)
RoscoeBooks
Sandmeyer’s
Seminary Coop
Transitions *
Unabridged
Uncharted (u)
Volumes Bookcafe
Women & Children First

Louisiana

Beckham’s Bookshop (New Orleans) (u)
Faulkner House (New Orleans)

Massachusetts

Broadside Books (Northampton)
Montague Bookmill (Montague) (u)
Odyssey Bookshop (South Hadley)

Minnesota

Addendum (St. Paul) *
Common Good (St. Paul) *
Magers & Quinn (Minneapolis)
Once Upon a Crime (Minneapolis)
Red Balloon (St. Paul)
Wild Rumpus (Minneapolis)

Mississippi

Lemuria Books (Jackson)
Square Books (Oxford)

Missouri

Left Bank Books (St. Louis)
The Novel Neighbor (Webster Groves)

Montana

The Bird’s Nest (Missoula) (u)
The Book Exchange (Missoula) (u)
Bookworks (Whitefish)
Cassiopeia Books (Great Falls)
Chapter One (Hamilton)
Country Bookshelf (Bozeman)
Fact and Fiction (Missoula) (u)
Freddy’s Feed and Read (Missoula) *
Montana Book Company (Helena)
River Break (Fort Benton)
Ron’s Roost (Missoula) (u) *
Shakespeare & Co. (Missoula)

New York City

Books of Wonder
McNally Jackson
Mysterious Bookshop
The Strand

Oregon

Annie Bloom’s Books (Portland)
Cannon Beach Book Company (Cannon Beach)
A Children’s Place (Portland)
Green Bean Books (Portland)
Jupiter’s Books (Cannon Beach)
Powell’s City of Books (Portland)

Tennessee

Parnassus (Nashville)

Texas

Brazos Bookstore (Houston)

Utah

Ken Sanders Rare Books (Salt Lake City) (u)
The King’s English (Salt Lake City)
Weller Book Works (Salt Lake City)

Washington, DC

Politics & Prose

Wisconsin

Booked for Murder (Madison) *
Boswell’s Books (Milwaukee)
Downtown Books (Milwaukee) (u)

Graff Paper: My New Monthly Newsletter

Graff Paper: First Drafts from Keir Graff

Get Writing I Don’t Share Anywhere Else

Because, apparently, I miss more frequent deadlines, I have launched a new monthly newsletter: Graff Paper.

No, this will not be a regular excuse to indulge myself in blatant self-promotion by quoting from my reviews, touting my public appearances, and generally going on about how fascinating I am! This publication exists to give me a fresh creative outlet and to connect with readers.

Each Graff Paper will include an extremely short essay about whatever’s on my mind at the moment (pop culture, publishing, parenting, writing, running, soccer, travel, Montana, Chicago, cats, and who knows what else), as well as links to other writing. I also plan to include occasional interviews of interesting people, lists of what I’m reading and watching, and playlists. These are things I won’t share anywhere else!

The first one mailed February 11, and subsequent issues will mail on the second Tuesday of every month. (After lunch, just so you know.) I hope you’ll read issue #1, “It’s Never Too Early to Blow Your Resolutions.” If you like it, please subscribe below—and tell a friend!

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THE PHANTOM TOWER is one of the Chicago Tribune’s Best Children’s Books of 2018!

What a way to start a Wednesday! The Phantom Tower has been named one of the best children’s books of 2018 by the Chicago Tribune. I’m beyond honored to find myself on a list with Jon Agee, Vera Brosgol, Kate DiCamillo, Laura Gehl, Daniel Haack, Wendy Mass, Patricia C. McKissack, Yuyi Morales, Brian Selznick, Rebecca Stead, David Serlin, and Jacqueline Woodson. I even discovered a new Chicago-set fantasy, Chris Rylander’s The Legend of Greg, that I’ll be buying ASAP.

Here’s what Nara Schoenberg had to say about my book:

Like another charming 2018 middle-grade novel, “The Legend of Greg” by Chris Rylander, “The Phantom Tower” has genuine roots in Chicago — not just a few landmarks thrown in for color. Here, 12-year-old identical twins move into the haunted Brunhild Tower on the North Side, and discover a phantom second tower where time has stopped. Exciting action, a creepy curse and well-drawn characters make for supremely cozy reading on a cold winter’s night.

Congrats to all!

g

THE MATCHSTICK CASTLE Is an Official 2018 Illinois Reads Selection!

Exciting news!

From the press release:

“A statewide project promoting reading for Illinois citizens, ILLINOIS READS annually selects six books in each of six different age categories ranging from read-to books for infants to adult readers. A variety of topics and themes are chosen for each age group, with an emphasis on selections written by authors with ties to Illinois . . .

“The Southern ILLINOIS READS Book Festival will be a celebration of the 2018 ILLINOIS READS campaign. Readers from all over the state of Illinois are invited to this free event in DuQuoin at the DuQuoin High School on Saturday, March 10.”

I’ll be there—will you? Looking forward to it!

Illinois Reads Selections, Grades 3–5

Solving the Puzzle Under the Sea: Marie Tharp Maps the Ocean Floor, by Robert Burleigh

Penelope March is Melting, by Jeffrey Michael

Ruby Red, by Liesl Shurtliff

Margaret and the Moon, by Dean Robbins and illustrated by Lucy Knisley

Fresh Picked Poetry: A Day at the Farmers’ Market, by Michelle Schaub

The Matchstick Castle, by Keir Graff

Click here for the full list of titles. And for more information about the program, visit the Illinois Reads website.