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This year, my 40th as a published author, I am indulging in a series of reminiscences. Consider it a one-man celebration. Imagine a grown man, alone in a room, with one of those rollout party favors and a few deflated balloons, guzzling a gallon of root beer. It’s a party! These are the halcyon memories of a working writer, trying to pay the bills, seeking to survive and, hopefully, one day, thrive.
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I was working in my 2nd floor office at 193 Hamilton Street in Albany, NY, when the phone rang. It was Jean Feiwel, editor-in-chief at Scholastic. I’d known Jean since 1985, but this was a rare thing: a phone call from on high.
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A word about Jean Feiwel, who joined Scholastic in July of 1983, two years before I got there. Jean was, and remains, a formidable woman. She had a big job at Scholastic, and today she is justly credited for being one of the handful of prime movers — along with Barbara Marcus, Dick Krinsley, and Ed Monagle, in my estimation — who helped turn Scholastic into the publishing powerhouse it has become.
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The early 80s were transitional years for the company. Mistakes were made. It invested heavily in “family computing” and neglected its core business. Scholastic had no hardcover publishing program when Jean first arrived on the scene. The trade presence was non-existent. As a matter of fact, I was tasked with writing that first hardcover catalog under Jean, a little pamphlet that described four new books. Not 100% positive of this, but those first authors were Julian Thompson (A Band of Angels), Harry Mazer (When the Phone Rang), Norma Fox Mazer (Three Sisters), and Oralee Wachter (Close to Home). Things would quickly get better.
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Jean did not suffer fools lightly. It was understandable. Jean had a ton of pressure and responsibility. Things to do. There would be no dilly-dallying during meetings, no socializing around the coffee machine. So when I entered her office, usually to get her to sign off on some promotional materials, I took care to not waste Jean’s time. We’d chat briefly and amiably and then Jean would get that look. Maybe pick up some papers on her desk, or glance at the phone, or nod at the anxious assistant hovering somewhere behind my left shoulder. Some subtle signal. I knew when to leave the room.
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That day on the phone, Jean said, “I’ve been talking with the agent of Shaquille O’Neil. We’re going to do a book together.”–
At this time, Mr. O’Neal was playing basketball for the Los Angeles Lakers. Likewise, I was busy, too, writing the Jigsaw Jones series, which was just getting off the ground.
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Jean continued, “We have a title, Shaq and the Beanstalk and Other Very Tall Tales.”
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“Nice,” I said.
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“It’s actually going to be a series of fractured folktales, featuring Shaq. And we’re going to publish it in an extra-tall format.”
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“Cool,” I said. “I didn’t realize Shaq had time to write a children’s book.”
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“Well, he doesn’t,” Jean replied. “I was hoping you’d want to write it.”
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I wondered how much I’d get paid to do that.
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She gave me a number.
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I said I’d do it anyway.
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Still, this was kind of exciting. I didn’t normally hob knob with NBA superstars. “So will I get to meet Shaq?”
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“No, he’s very busy right now.”
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“What about a phone call? I’d love to get this thoughts, hear his vocal rhythms . . .”
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“No, Shaq won’t be available for any of that,” Jean confessed.
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And so that became my job. Having zero contact with Shaq, I was to write a series of fractured fairy tales in his voice. Not that weird. I’d already written a book in the voice of Bugs Bunny, so I’d dealt with legends before. Mr. O’Neal had agreed, I was told, to spend a total of two hours in the photography studio.
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So that’s how the world works, I may have thought to myself.
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I accepted the terms of the deal. Glad to get the work, grateful to get paid. Did this make me a hack writer? Um, hmmm, I guess so? But inside that world, I don’t think we, collectively, ever saw it that way. I was a carpenter tasked with building a set of bookshelves.
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The book came out in 1999, illustrated by the very talented Shane Evans. In addition to “Shaq and the Beanstalk,” the stories included “Little Red Riding Shaq,” “Shaq’s New Clothes,” “Shaq and the Three Bears,” and “Shaq and the Three Billy Goats Gruff.” I’m sure you get the idea.
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The book turned out okay, I think. Shane’s work was terrific and the project was published with skill and care. I’ve seen it in libraries during school visits, and I’ll sometimes surprise folks with the comment, “You know, don’t tell anybody, but I wrote that book.”
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My work, of course, went uncredited. The text copyright went to Shaquille O’Neal. A lot of time has passed, so I figure it’s okay to confess this tale.
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Right, Shaq?
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You and me, we’re cool, right, big guy?
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I don’t want any trouble.
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And though I’ve said it here before, and elsewhere, thank you again, Jean Feiwel, for everything.
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Just for fun, Audrey Vernick and I started writing together about 10 years ago — we bonded over our love of James Marshall’s “George and Martha” books. We worked on and off and, though we finished more than a dozen stories, never succeeded in getting anything published. Sometimes we took breaks; sometimes we got newly energized, moving in unexpected directions. We laughed and learned as we went. About our craft and about each other. And after a long while, it became clear we’d probably never get anything published together. Just wasn’t in the cards. And it truly didn’t matter. Because in the process, we became really good friends. I’m crazy about Audrey & grateful she puts up with me.
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