A quick sample of some of my picture books. All are unpublished, but a few may have found a home recently. In the meantime, enjoy them, text only, and please -- let me know what you think. -- John
LEAPING LEMMINGS
Lemmings like to be like other lemmings. They look alike, they sound alike, they act alike. It’s all part of being a lemming.
[One lemming addressing a group of lemmings] “If all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?”
[All lemmings responding] “YES!”
[One lemming responding] “Uh, no.”
Yes, this lemming was an odd duck. When his friends huddled together to keep warm, he went sledding.
When they sang in the lemming choir, he banged on a drum set he got from the seals.
When they chewed on tough grass and seeds, he ordered pepperoni pizza with extra anchovies and garlic bread dipped in hot sauce.
“Hey, guys, look! It melts snow!”
[He shows up with psychedelic fur] “What happened to your fur?”
“Lemmings aren’t purple.”
“I am. And pink and yellow….”
“Listen, lemming…”
“Call me Larry.”
THE SPAGHETTISBURG ADDRESS
This is the story, I guess
Of how 87 Meatball Lane
Became the official Spaghettisburg Address.
Four score and seven years ago, when you grandparents’ parents were still very small, the people of Spaghettisburg fought day and night over who made the best spaghetti.
“Spaghetti Shack!”
“Linguine Lounge”
“Spaghetti Shack!”
“Linguine Lounge!”
Everyone except a tall little boy named Abe, as thin as spaghetti with hair like rotini, who didn’t like either. Whenever someone asked him who made the best spaghetti he said, “My mom.”
“Your mom? No! Spaghetti Shack!”
[Stranger butts head in] “Linguine Lounge!”
Now, Abe didn't like to fight, so he stopped answering that question. He stayed home, read books about pasta and ate his mom’s spaghetti.
Of course, that didn't stop the fighting.
