Meeting Ana Aranda, illustrator of "The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra"...six years after the book was published

Today, at a Day of the Dead event at the Mexican Cultural Institute in Washington DC, I met Mexican-born illustrator Ana Aranda for the first time.

She exhibited/sold original art from her book Our Day of the Dead Celebration and held court with a steady stream of fans of all ages.

Of note: Ana and I made a book together...six years ago.

Meeting in person was such a long overdue pleasure!

"The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra" StoryWalk in Florida

In 2021, I was tickled to discover that a Michigan library had chosen The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra for their StoryWalk. 

At the same time I was tickled to discover the StoryWalk concept itself—an installation in which a picture book is presented page by page in a series of displays along an outdoor path so visitors can read as they walk. 

Thanks to Instagram, I've now learned that my little chupacabra is featured in another library StoryWalk, this one in Tampa Bay. Incidentally, Florida is closer than Michigan to the cryptid's natural habitat.

Photos courtesy of the library's Instagram.

Thank you, Safety Harbor Public Library, for sharing the adventure of goats Jayna, Pep, and Bumsie with your community! I recommend that those who take the stroll regularly check behind them...who knows if a chupacabra StoryWalk will attract the real deal?

“The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra” StoryWalk in Michigan

It’s such a treat when an initiative I think is excellent collides with a book I happened to write. 

The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra is currently featured on a StoryWalk that the Caro Area District Library in Caro, MI installed in a nearby park. 

Another StoryWalk is on library grounds.

The library put up both StoryWalks as part of their summer reading program in 2020, when the building was closed due to the pandemic. About once a month, the staff rotates the books.

Thank you, Caro Library. Honored! 

Combining reading and nature is win-win.

Photos courtesy of the library’s Instagram account and the library directly. 

“The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra” eating activity for toddlers

On Instagram, a book-loving mom and dad posted a clever activity they created for their toddler based on The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra. 

It’s so cute, I want to eat it up. Thank you, craffiti_cookbook!

Tropes in "The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra"

At one point or another, most writers researching, exploring the possibilities of their craft, or simply procrastinating end up on a site about narrative tropes, such as TV Tropes.

I take it as a badge of honor that The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra now has an entry. (My bar for badges of honor is not necessarily rigorous.)

There are so many tropes in storytelling and I didn't consciously employ any of the ones named at that link—doubtful I could have even named any of the ones at that link—except for "Shout-Out." I love "Balloon Belly" and "Big Shadow, Little Creature."

I find it curious that "Dedication" is classified here as a trope. Does this site also consider other standard elements of books (table of contents, index, flap copy) tropes?

Texas Library Association Conference 2019

From 4/15-18/19, I was an honored guest and Featured Speaker at the legendary Texas Library Association Conference, this year held in Austin.

I was invited by the conference itself and not sent by one of my publishers, which means I was scheduled to speak but not scheduled to sign—and I didn’t realize this till a day after I got there. Therefore, it was too late to slot me in to sign books, which disappointed a number of attendees (not to mention myself). No matter—they can still get the books!

The night before the festivities began, I explored the neighborhood around my hotel, where I found three things that made me feel at home: a bar named for the chupacabra (a southern U.S./Central America thing), a bar named for bats (an Austin thing), and a donut shop—in particular, a grape-flavored donut. You rarely see grape desserts and never have I ever seen a grape donut.

Special points for naming the donut after a semi-forgotten Hanna-Barbera character.

On 4/15, strong winds stranded a number of guests in their respective airports/hometowns, one of whom was my pal Tom Angleberger. At 8:45 pm, I was recruited to pinch hit for Tom in an author vs. author game show starting at 9 p.m. hosted by a puppet. (You read that right. Again, this conference is legendary.) 

My team consisted of Chris Barton, Jo Whittemore, Andrew Smith, Stacy McAnulty, and myself. We competed against Jennifer Ziegler, Lesa Cline-Ransome, Carmen Oliver, Shelley Johannes, and Jeff Anderson. 

The three-part challenge started with Pictionary, for which I had to draw as many idioms as my team could guess in two minutes, followed by story-in-round, concluding with (hard!) literary trivia. Trivia is usually one of my things but almost all of these questions stumped me. (Who knew Neil Gaiman’s first book was about Duran Duran? Well, someone on the other team…)

We did win, but it was so close.

On 4/17 at 8:30 am (which seemed early to me but doesn’t faze librarians), I gave the first of my two featured talks, this one on Bill Finger. My second was scheduled for the next day, at 10:30 am, which was close to the end of the conference (and after the exhibit hall would be closed), so I feared few would show up. However, I had at least double the audience for a talk on Thirty Minutes Over Oregon; my angle to discuss the book was empathy, and that also described the crowd. They were very kind to me and my story.

At that talk, a woman who had attended my talk the day before gifted me a bat-themed thank you for an enjoyable presentation.

One night, with Tom Angleberger (who was able to fly in earlier that day), I visited one of the city’s bridges from which thousands of bats famously emerge nightly to the thrill of hundreds of onlookers.

Except that night, they didn’t. (Well, four did.)

I was under the impression that this happened without fail soon after sunset every evening, and the large crowd gathered there gave me no reason to think otherwise. 

Alas, now I have to try again, and I don’t know when I will be back. 

The other disappointment of TLA also had to do with something that flies. As I’ve been doing since Nerd Camp last summer, I hid several fairies on site. (Rather they hid themselves.) Whoever found one and tweeted me a photo of it would win a copy of Fairy Spell. 

But no one did.

I may be disappointed but I am not surprised. 

Fairies are notoriously hide to find. And as Frances says in the book (i.e. in life), maybe it's too hot for them here...

“The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra”: The Play

In October 2018, the Kershaw County Library in Camden, SC put on a play based on The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra. 

The characters were portrayed by puppets, but I learned of this too late to request photos—the kids took the puppets home!

"The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra" in Spanish

The chupacabra originated in Latino and Hispanic culture; the first chupacabra sighting reported was in Puerto Rico in 1996. So it feels appropriate that The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra (illustrated by Mexican-born Ana Aranda) is now available (via Scholastic) in Spanish. 

As you see, the title has changed in the translation (The Macabre Dinner of Chupacabra). I don't know why. I know they have candelabras in Spanish-language cultures.

The original dedication to my son calls him my "favorite funny little fuzzball." In Spanish, he's referred to simply as my "plush."

Role reversal: goats eating the chupacabra

In my post earlier today, I confessed that I had signed a copy of The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra to two goats. (In the book, three goats drive the action.)

I asked Ali Schilpp, the Maryland librarian who shepherds these goats, if she would send me a photo of the book with the goats, and she went above and beyond:

In the book, as in many of the real-life reports, chucacabras kill goats and drink their blood. In this case, it may be a goat who ends a chupacabra...

Picture books taking flight

By chance, all five of my picture books to date feature a central figure who flies:

• Boys of Steel: The Creators of Superman—Superman (duh)
• Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman—Batman (not self-sustained; via Batplane, Batcopter, Batwing, being ejected out of a giant toaster, etc.)
• Fairy Spell: How Two Girls Convinced the World That Fairies Are Real—fairies (duh)
• Thirty Minutes Over Oregon: A Japanese Pilot's World War II Story—Nobuo Fujita, the pilot of the subtitle
• The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra—the chupacabra (not traditionally described as being winged but our cute little version is)

Superman by Ross MacDonald

Batman by Ty Templeton

fairy photographed by Elsie Wright

Nobuo Fujita by Melissa Iwai

chupacabra by Ana Aranda

Related, I went skydiving in 1996:

"The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra" in Guatemala

On 2/10/18, I flew to Guatemala, which didn't take as long as I was expecting. (Probably because I was comparing it to my last international work flight, to Vietnam.) This was only my second trip to Central America, first time being Costa Rica in 2013 (for a vacation, not to work). 

My book The Chupacabra Ate the Candelabra got to Guatemala before me. I went to spend a week speaking to all ages at the American School of Guatemala in Guatemala City, courtesy of the supremely nice librarian Brandon O'Neill, who had several of my books.

Let's zoom in on that partially obscured sign between us.

Before exiting the Guatemala City airport, everyone has to push a button on a small console that looks like a prop from a Cold War doomsday movie. It's attached to a stoplight without the yellow. If the green lights up, you proceed out. If red, you've been arbitrarily selected for inspection. I got green. This guy didn't. 

According to the guide/archeologist professor (no, not Indiana Jones) who took me around the cobblestoned city of Antigua for a few hours, Guatemala is the wealthiest country in Central America. According to strangers on the internet, it's not. No matter—both Antigua and Guatemala City (where I was based) felt clean and safe. However, feels can be deceiving, at least if you're to believe the pickled Texan in my hotel elevator who told me "Don't go out after midnight. Someone will shove a gun in your face and rob you."

Needless to say, I did not go out after midnight. Also because my daily school pickups were between 6:40 and 7 am.

My first talk each day started between 7:45 and 8 am. The school was only 15 minutes by car from my hotel (Biltmore) in the more well-off Zone 10, but because roads are typically one- or two-lane there, one accident can back up hundreds, so the school wanted to get me on the early side. (In the end, none of my five morning commutes took more than 20 minutes.)

The school, as with so many I've had the privilege to visit around the world, was picturesque and meticulously maintained. The jungle gym looked like a beehive.

The school teaches half the day in Spanish, half in English—but I couldn't adhere to that split. I started my talk with "buenos dias," followed by "That's all of my Spanish." The kids laughed, in both languages.

Day 1, presentation 1 was to an auditorium full of preschoolers, kindergartners, and first graders. Five minutes in, the room went dark—but it wasn't a full outage. Weirdly, the microphone still worked… The kids managed to not riot and power was restored within a few minutes.

Because my books skew older, at any given school visit, I typically see preschool only once (if I see them at all) and for no more than 20 minutes. But here, in a first, I spent most of the first two days almost exclusively with that age range. Monday in particular required additional stamina—one 30-minute assembly, one hourlong professional development workshop, and in between, nine classes of chicos! 

The city is in the shadow of three volcanoes, one of which is active. I woke up every day to a hotel room view of one.

But the more frequent danger here is earthquakes. The last big one was in 1976 and killed 23,000. In 1773, the country suffered a catastrophic earthquake and several aftershocks whose effects can still be seen today at the Santiago Cathedral in Antigua.

Other views of the grounds:

These kids were happily exploring. 

I assume their parents were nearby.

Two preschool teachers asked me if I know comic book writer Tom King. I said not personally but he's one of the current A-listers, so I know his work. Turns out they are both cousins of his wife! I was less stunned to meet people in Guatemala who are connected to Tom King as I was to meet two American cousins who work at the same school in Guatemala.

More sights around Guatemala City

A statue/art installation that reminded me of "The Awakening" sculpture at the National Harbor in DC:

Another dramatically posed statue:

How the check came at one restaurant:

More sights around Antigua

Hill of the Cross (with volcano in the background):

Le Merced church:

Saint Catalina Arch:

A market (with Hill of the Cross in the distant background):

A side street:

Adios and gracias. (Okay, so "buenos dias" wasn't really all of my Spanish…)