“The rain is different in Tennessee,” said my friend. She and her husband, both Texans, lived in Nashville during his residency. “It just rains — it doesn’t storm. No thunder, no lightning,” she said.
I was shocked. How could there be rain without thunder and lightning? I live in a state where thunderstorms are more common than plain rain. When a storm’s a’comin’, we go outside to watch it. Sometimes we video it. Then we discuss it in detail.
So The Buffalo Storm was an interesting read for me because our hero, Hallie, is “not afraid of anything, except storms.” As she and her family travel the Oregon Trail, she encounters two kinds of storms — one she expects and one she doesn’t.
I listened to the book online before I read it. It took three weeks for it to travel seventy-five miles through Interlibrary Loan, much like the slow pace of an actual wagon train. I had questions as I listened, and those questions grew larger when I had the actual book in my hands.
The author, Katherine Applegate, is known for the Animorphs series, which she wrote with her husband, and she won a Newbery for The One and Only Ivan, about a gorilla. She has a new middle-grade novel releasing in September called Wishtree, from the point of view of an oak tree. This is her first and, so far, only picture book, published in 2007. She has a poet’s talent for using only a few words to convey a lot of meaning.
Which way is home? I asked.
She pointed to my heart. There inside, she said,
there is home.
But I knew inside was just a hard place hurting.
For those of you who are new to children’s books, especially picture books, think of a poem, a handful of words on a page. Each word is necessary, and each word is in the exact right place. Now, imagine that poem spread across a standard 32-page picture book, with illustrations supplementing the words. The pictures should not only be pretty or catchy but should illuminate the text, giving us information the words don’t.
Artist Jan Ormerod’s watercolors and pastels are muted. There’s a sense of isolation, as if we are cut off from seeing the characters and the landscape clearly. In some pictures it almost looks like Ormerod painted over a sepia photograph.
The faces of Hallie’s parents are never in focus. Her dad’s face is usually covered by a hat. Her mother’s face is most visible once they reach Oregon, but even then, her eyes are closed. Hallie seems somehow cut off from them, even as they make this journey together.
The character most fully conveyed is the grandmother, whose face draws us in. Her relationship with Hallie seems to be more significant than Hallie’s relationship with her parents. But Grandmother isn’t making the cross-country trip.
I am old and this is home,
But I’ll be with you just the same.
Grandmother gives Hallie paper, envelopes, a pen, and a jar of ink so she can write about the wonders of the West — prairie dogs, coyotes, and buffalo.
What a gift to hear the earth rumble as they run!
The family’s journey isn’t sugarcoated, making me wonder if this book is a good choice for the age range specified, four- to seven-year-olds. If kids are familiar with the perils of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House on the Prairie books, maybe. In this book, Hallie falls out of the wagon into an icy creek, the oxen’s hooves bleed, and the men on the wagon train are anxious to kill buffalo “just to watch their great bodies fall.”
But these trials are not the story’s focus; the real issue is thunderstorms. Hallie and her grandmother both fear them, but at home, they are afraid together. When the wagon train encounters a storm with hail in Nebraska, Hallie has her grandmother’s quilt to comfort her, although it’s not the same as her grandmother’s arms.
Back home she’d sing while the thunder rolled,
but now her voice was lost to me
Then we get to the crux of the book — Hallie’s encounter with the buffalo — which takes up ten pages. Hallie gets lost while searching for buffalo chips and then spots a trapped buffalo calf. She rescues it, something she feels she can do because of work she’s done with Grandmother back home.
She’d be no more trouble than a wide-eyed colt,
the one I’d tamed with my grandmother’s help.
Suddenly, there is a new storm, a buffalo storm, meaning, a herd of buffalo running. As they make a sound “like boulders breaking,” Hallie remembers her grandmother’s words, “What a gift to hear the earth rumble as they run!”
But I have to ask, Why are they running? Buffalo don’t run unless there is danger or at least perceived danger. Is Hallie in danger?
She doesn’t think so. This girl who has always been afraid of thunderstorms is not afraid in this moment.
Fine storm! I shouted,
and laughed just the way I knew
my grandmother would have laughed.
what a gift, I thought,
feeling my grandmother there,
there with me at last.
From an artistic standpoint, the next two pages, 28-29, are my favorites: a spread of prairie, storm clouds, a slight clearing in the sky, and down at the bottom of the page, the wagon train, small and distant. The text says Hallie “kept walking,” and she must have had to walk a long way because the text says, “At last, the wagons came into view.” But even though she’s walking while it thunders, this time she’s unafraid. After the buffalo storm, nothing is scary.
When she finally reaches the wagon train, just as the rain starts, her parents respond …
No idea. Not one word, not one picture.
Did they notice she was gone? How long was she gone anyway? How long does it take to rescue a calf and watch a stampede? Hours? Did her parents notice she wasn’t hiding under her grandmother’s quilt when the thunder started? Did Hallie tell them about her newfound sense of empowerment gained through being alone with a herd of wild animals?
My questions have no answers. On the next two pages, 30-31, the family is happy and huggy at their new home in Oregon.
The story ends as Hallie writes her grandmother and tells her about her new baby sister, Olympia. (It was Hallie’s idea to name the baby after Grandmother.) She even echoes her grandmother’s parting words to her before the family left for Oregon: “I promise I’ll be with you, just the same.”
The Buffalo Storm does a lot of things good picture books do, like the repetition of those words between Grandmother and Hallie at the beginning and end of the book. Many things happen in threes (“hay and horse and pine,” and “pushed and yanked and grunted,” and “huge and surly and crazed with life”). The text is full of wonderful similes (“like a bread loaf ready for the oven,” and “like beads slowly stringing,” and “like a black ocean surging”). Our hero grows in this story — in independence, in love, and in bravery.
But I would have liked a little more exposition between pages 29 and 30.
Your turn!
What did you like? What perplexed you? What did you notice? How about that chicken on the penultimate page?
_______________
Our next Children’s Book Club will meet Friday, September 15. We will be reading One Grain Of Rice: A Mathematical Folktale by Demi.
Photo by greg westfall, Creative Commons, via Flickr. Post by Megan Willome, author of The Joy of Poetry.
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“Megan Willome has captured the essence of crow in this delightful children’s collection. Not only do the poems introduce the reader to the unusual habits and nature of this bird, but also different forms of poetry as well.”
—Michelle Ortega, poet and children’s speech pathologist
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Sandra Heska King says
I never used to spend much time with the illustrations in picture books. I mean, I appreciated them, and the kids and I would look for the mouse and the ant and some of those critters that would show up on different pages in different books. But I never pondered them deep. I tended more to the words. You’re teaching me to appreciate both on a deeper level. Still, the word pictures and poetry drew me in the most.
My first emotion was a deep ache for the grandmother for not going along and for being left and for her courage at letting the family (i.e., granddaughter) go. I wondered if she cried–sobbed–after they disappeared. I would have. And I felt a deep sadness as they “put the barn to bed one last time.” I loved that the grandmother gave Hallie the tools and encouragement to write what she heard tell of–like “coyotes making crazy music.” And the gift of a hearing the earth rumble–as opposed to the sky rumbling. I wonder if the grandmother wanted to go but didn’t want to hold the family back. Was she more frail than she let on? Was she the mother’s or the father’s mother? Was the family leaving her to fend for herself? Was there other family nearby? Who would care for her if she got sick or fell in the barn?
These words got me on page 11:
“Too much is coming.
Too much, I thought, is getting left behind.”
Too much for this grandmother who left her own …
Oh… and the wagon’s “oiled canvas top gleaming
like a bread loaf ready for the oven.”
“I am old and this is home,
but I’ll be with you just the same.” (I thought of E.T. “I’ll be right here.”)
“We joined other wagon,
like beads slowly stringing.”
“Which way is home? I asked.
She pointed to my heart. There inside, she said,
there is home.
But I knew inside was just a hard place hurting.
I put the pen away.”
That made my own heart hurt. (P.S. I like that the author didn’t use quotation marks.)
I didn’t much like the idea of shooting buffalo just to see their great bodies fall.
When she fell into the creek “swollen with rain and looking for trouble,” and “the current tried to swallow me whole” and “Papa hauled me in like a fish,” was Hallie afraid? Mama was, I think.
“Weeks wove together and faded in the sun.” Seriously, the word picture.
I’m wondering who sends their child out alone in a strange place to hunt for buffalo chips? And why did Mama Buffalo let Hallie near her baby with the “eyes like wet marbles”?
Where was the wagon train when the buffalo stormed “like a black ocean surging”? How far “lost” was she? And weren’t her parents freaking out?
I guess it all goes back to the real issue–storms. And that “hope grows big here.”
I love seeing Hallie cuddle her sister in the same quilt she huddled under with her grandmother. And I’m wondering what the grandmother is doing…
That’s my short take. I couldn’t find the book in our local library and don’t know how interlibrary loans work. So I bought it. And I’m glad. And now I have a new book to read to the grands when they visit.
Sandra Heska King says
And P.S. — love how you slipped Molly and Joe in there. 🙂
Megan Willome says
Sandy, these are such great thoughts. I love how you delved into the grandmother in a way that I didn’t. I think that even if she wasn’t frail, that would have been a tough trip for her. You also brought up the quilt–yes!
And you noticed some lines that I didn’t. Thank you!
Good point on the Mama Buffalo. I saw some mama cows and babies this morning on my bike ride, and I stayed way out of their way. Don’t mess with Mama.
Yes, I couldn’t resist on Molly and Joe. Beware: It may happen again.
Sharon A Gibbs says
Sandy, yes, a deep ache for Grandma. 🙁 I had never considered it this way before.
I am glad you came along for the read. Children’s picture books contain such depth and meaning. Taking the time to understand the story helps us carry out rich conversations with the littles we read to.
Bethany R. says
I was teary when I finished the last page of this book, and it did strike me as a poem.
The illustration on the dedication page is beautiful—the little girl and her grandma wrapped up in the same quilt together, with lightning in the distance. Grandma looking down at her little frightened granddaughter and smiling warmly, knowing it will be okay.
Megan Willome says
So glad you brought out that page and illustration, Bethany!
Sharon A Gibbs says
Bethany, isn’t it cool that even picture books can evoke strong emotion in us?
Sharon A Gibbs says
Megan,
Thank you for such detailed observations of the illustrations. I never noticed how the parents’ faces are not in focus. A sense of isolation certainly colors the illustrations—and story. Also, I see lots of brown, which reminds me of dust and dirt, and cattle and prairie.
The illustrated bookends were lovely. On the dedication page, Grandma cuddles with Hallie in the quilt. Hallie cuddles her baby sister in the same quilt on the last page.
We learn a lot about Grandma, “who could bake a cake or birth a calf or build a barn.” (So few words say so much!) I like how Grandma admits she is afraid of storms and they can be afraid, together. Hallie believes Grandma needs her “to pick the best berries and name the new kittens and help make a wish on the first firefly of the summer.” Hallie wants to be just like Grandma. It was sad to see them part.
I loved the poetry-prose style of writing and metaphors. Some of my favorites lines include:
“Too much is coming. Too much, I thought, is getting left behind.”
“We joined other wagons, like beads slowly stringing.”
“the wagon waited, oiled canvas top gleaming like a bread loaf ready for the oven.”
“tail twirling like a lariat.”
(the thunder) “It seemed as harmless as a puppy’s growl.”
“The air tasted of autumn, but the soil was deep and rich and waiting.”
There’s lots of tension in the middle. Among them is when Hallie is pitched in the icy water and the current tries to swallow her whole. Through my research of the Oregon Trail, I learned this was a common way for children to die.
I also had concerns about Hallie’s parents. They seem to give little support to Hallie. Why wouldn’t they be looking for her during the buffalo storm? These stampedes could last from many minutes to a few days. How long was she lost? So many questions, as you and Sandy point out. I would have liked to have seen mention of concern for their daughter, or words about a reuniting after the storm.
The parents weren’t mentioned much, considering the length of their journey. I collected their “appearances” here:
Papa said We’re going west to Oregon.
Papa fussed…
Mama handed me the pen.
She pointed to my heart
Papa hauled me in.
Mama held me.
We’re all of us afraid of something, she said.
Hope grows big here, Papa said, big like the trees.
A palace, Mama said.
I am returning my copy to the library today, but will remember Hallie’s strength and courage through the trials. In the end, she turned out strong and loving, just like her Grandma.
Megan Willome says
Sharon, such a good idea to count and note the specific places where Hallie’s parents are mentioned. On the subject of bookends, it’s almost like the grandmother herself bookends Hallie’s story, with Hallie stepping into her strong and loving shoes. It is interesting to me that the significant changes that occur in Hallie during the buffalo encounters happen when she is alone.
Sharon A Gibbs says
Megan,
“…it’s almost like the grandmother herself bookends Hallie’s story, with Hallie stepping into her strong and loving shoes.” How well said (and poetic)!
Maybe the quilt is a metphor for her grandmother.
You raise another great thought in your observation of Hallie’s significant growth happening when she’ s alone. I have my own theory on this. Does anyone want to venture more into that thought?
Megan Willome says
Do tell!
Sharon A Gibbs says
I believe Hallie found her strength from her grandmother’s example. What a testament of Hallie’s love for her grandmother.
As I ponder over this a bit more, I think about how children look at adults for their example. Children see so much more than we realize. There is a message for adults in this story, too.
Sandra Heska King says
“Through my research of the Oregon Trail, I learned this was a common way for children to die.” 🙁
I noticed the bookends, too. And I’m glad you mentioned some metaphors I missed.
Sharon A Gibbs says
Sandy,
Upon my first read, I thought some of this book’s details were far-fetched—until I explored more about the Oregon Trail. Sure, I learned about pioneers when I was a young girl in school, but maybe the teachers sifted out some of the more graphic parts.
This story (and many other children’s books) opened the door to my curiosity. “The Buffalo Storm” helped me to understand that these were common hardships for those brave pioneers.
Donna Falcone says
This is fascinating.
I thought for sure I’d seen this at my library, but it’s not there and never has been. 🙁
Neither is One Grain of Rice. I wonder if mine will take as long to arrive as yours, Megan? 🙂
Megan Willome says
I just had to order “One Grain of Rice” too. Perhaps the only thing I miss about living in a bigger city is easy access to a bigger library.
Donna Falcone says
Megan, it’s as if you watched me shaking my fists at the sky and muttering small town library frustration under my breath. LOL! 😀
Sharon A Gibbs says
I am so surprised (and pleased) with my local library. I ordered “One Grain of Rice” on Saturday and will pick it up this afternoon. Who would have thought such timeliness here in Maine? Megan and Donna, I hope yours arrive soon!
Sandra Heska King says
In a pinch, here’s an option:
Megan Willome says
Thanks, Sandy! I did something similar while waiting for my copy of “The Buffalo Storm,” although the video did not include the illustrations.
Donna Falcone says
Thanks!
Donna Falcone says
I haven’t read it yet, but am looking forward to it. It will be interesting to approach the book having read all of the comments ahead of time. I’m wondering if there is no mention of parental concern with the intent of making the heroine more heroic? Maybe they were peeking around boulders off the page where no one could see… just to make sure Hallie was okay. Or, maybe this was circa 1965 when, as long as you were home before dark, parents were much less likely to worry and wonder where you were. 😉 I’m really looking forward to reading it!
Megan Willome says
Could be, Donna. It’s a question I’d love to ask the author.
And you mean *1865*, right? I mean, I know things were more lax in the 1960s, but … 🙂
Donna Falcone says
LOL. Nope. I do not. Back in the day, as they say, in small town Spencerport NY and even much bigger Yonkers New York, as my husband tells it, kids went OUT to play. Just out. We might at first go to a friends, but then after that who knows? It worked, as long as we were home at the appointed time or sun/streetlight clues…. Parents didn’t love less, or care less… they just weren’t as scared as most parents today.
Megan Willome says
Ah. Thank you, Donna.
Lane says
Reflections on The Buffalo Storm
Lane Arnold
For Hallie, the storm brought on by the impending trip via the Oregon Trail was many-layered, though, to echo her words, she couldn’t say the truth of it. The interplay of grandmother and granddaughter and the simply lovely images evoking deep emotions created both a reach back in time and a reach right into a nearby moment that most every child and adult has surely felt.
How do you live the tension of old and new, excitement and fear, of goodbyes and hellos?
Who hasn’t felt the tug of heart when leaving a beloved relative? For Hallie, the moment came when she had to leave behind her grandmother who has steadied her in the physicality of weather’s upheaval.
With such tender wisdom, that same grandmother steadied her in the emotionality of life’s upheaval. Words on paper and words well-chosen were gifts for the journey forward while still allowing Hallie to connect with who was being left behind. As well, the careful stitches of her grandmother’s quilt reminded the young girl of how storms were handled in the past.
“I couldn’t say the truth of it” is a refrain that Hallie uses, even telling it to the skittering lizard, as squirmy as her thoughts when she finds herself lost among low clouds.
Yet that could have shaken her to the core as she trembled, the buffalo storm, became a way of being transformed to wonder.
With the words of her grandmother echoing in her ears, “What a gift to hear the earth rumble as they run!” the gift of a grandmother’s wisdom turned potential worry into ponderous wonder. Hallie stood, stared, yelped with joy, and laughed. Then, on the last page, the quilt that once held her, becomes the holding place for her new baby sister, in a sense continuing the connection within the family line.
There’s so much to savor in this book. I started to return it to the library several times, but, like my children once begged when a favorite story was discovered, now echoed by my grandchildren, I’d murmur,“One more time. One more reading, please.” I lingered long in this story full of the art of remembering while learning the art of letting go, unearthing the path that happens in the tension of the unknown.
Eventually, I’ll add this to my own library and to that of my grandchildren as well for it exemplifies what C. S. Lewis once said, “A children’s story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children’s story in the slightest.”
Patricia Polacco’s Thunder Cakes is another picture book with a similar theme: how to deal with the fear a thunderstorm can bring and what a wise grandmother invents as a way forward. I won’t spoil it for you…I imagine your local library can find a copy for you to enjoy.
Thanks for sharing this book with us, Megan.
As a writer, currently working on a novel for adults while also taking some courses writing picture books for children, I’m so glad to watch how words invited me in with such subtle precision. Katherine Applegate is a master storyteller and writer. I sure delighted in her book The One and Only Ivan. It’s also one of those I read and read and read again and again and again.
Megan Willome says
Lane, thanks for pointing out the interplay of the words on paper and the “well-chosen words.” Also that refrain, which I’d missed.
I’m so happy that you loved this book and that it’s one you want to keep. Glad to talk to someone who has read “The One and Only Ivan” — it’s on my list now.
And I’d love to hear more about the courses you’re taking about writing picture books–what fun!
Megan Willome says
Lane, just read “The One and Only Ivan” in one sitting yesterday while I was on a plane. Wowie wow wow! Can’t wait to discuss it with my children’s book buddy. More about that soon–stay tuned!)
Sharon A Gibbs says
Lane,
Thank you for recommending “The One and Only Ivan.” Definitely a favorite.
Megan, ready whenever you are!
Sharon A Gibbs says
Lane, I ADORE your reflections. So many lovely and insightful observations!
Thank you for sharing C.S. Lewis’ quote, “A children’s story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children’s story in the slightest.” This spring I rediscovered children’s books and all they have to offer children, and adults alike. (I also enjoy writing children’s stories.) To my delight, I see adults create interactive observations and learn from one another. Each person’s contribution shines a different light. ☺
You shed a new awareness when you wrote of the refrain Hallie uses “even telling it to the skittering lizard, as squirmy as her thoughts when she finds herself lost among low clouds.” I hadn’t connected the skittering lizard to her uneasiness. And “the gift of a grandmother’s wisdom turned potential worry into ponderous wonder” is another nugget to take away.
And one more bonus? The sharing of other titles. “The One and Only Ivan” sounds wonderful.
C.S. Lewis had it right.
Sharon A Gibbs says
Lane, I am also curious about your children’s picture book writing course.
Lane Arnold says
I’m currently in Grandparent Land for a few glorious days so this response will be brief…I’ll circle back to more interaction when we return home. In the meantime, I’m immersed in laughter, constant motion, and tons of children’s literature with my little grands. With the two oldest grands, ages 6 & 4, we are writing a children’s story. Such a hoot! When we arrived the first night here, I brought along a typed up and printed copy of our rough draft so far. Oh what delight to see the joy in their big eyes at the gift of their words being handed back to them. Hoping to get some time to add to our draft during this brief mini-reunion of all my children/their spouses/and 5 grandchildren. It’s a bit of chaotic wildness and glory right now in the midst of it!
http://www.reneelatulippe.com/writing-courses/ Is the writing course I took earlier this year. I learned of it via 12 x 12 which is a group I belong to where we are challenged to write a picture book draft each month of the year!
I’m a retired early childhood teacher, worked in a children’s bookstore at one point where I made absolutely no money whatsoever as I spent all my earnings on stocking the shelves of my then-young children. At one point, I was engaged in a doctoral program on emergent reading and writing, focused on children’s literature.
The One and Only Ivan is a must read, in my opinion. An offshoot of that book is a picture book on the same theme, both based on a true story.
More later…it’s back to Grandparent Land for now.
Lane says
Forgot to add the link for 2 picture book courses on my wishlist for the future:
http://www.thewritingbarn.com/class/perfecting-picture-book-online-bethany-hegedus/
https://susannahill.com/for-writers/making-picture-book-magic/
Megan Willome says
Lane, this is great information–thanks for sharing your expertise.
But even better, I love what you are doing with your grandchildren: “Oh what delight to see the joy in their big eyes at the gift of their words being handed back to them.”
Sharon A Gibbs says
Sounds like a magical Grandparent Land!
Thanks for the links. They look fun.