An
interview with James Howe
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I don't believe I was born
to write. In fact, if you'd asked me when I was seven or
eight, I would have probably said I was born to ride. Back
then, you see, I wanted to be a jockey. But that dream was
put out to pasture when my mother told me she had calculated
that my adult height would be 6'4". (Actually, she was off
by two inches. I'm only 6'2". But then, how many of us are
as tall in our own eyes as we our in hers?) She suggested to
me, then or sometime later, that I consider becoming a
writer.
No, I thought, writing was
not something to do for a living. Writing is something to do
for fun. For years I wrote for fun. When I was nine or ten,
I wrote a play, based on the "Blondie" comic strip, entitled
Dagwood's Awful Day. I also directed it, sold lemonade
during the intermission, and played the title role. I wrote
short stories and published newspapers, my favorite being a
newsletter for a club I founded when I was eleven: The
Vampire Legion. I called the newsletter the Gory Gazette. I
wrote a humor column for my high school paper. And in
college (Boston University, where I majored in theater) I
wrote more plays. I then had fun writing critical papers for
my English and dramatic literature courses.
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After graduating from college I
moved to New York City, where I pursued a career as an actor,
modeled, appeared in some commercials, directed a few plays, and, for
quite a number of years, worked as a literary agent for playwrights
and other writers.
All the while I continued to write
for fun. And not once did I think that that was what I should be
doing for a living. After all, Writing was pleasure! Work was work!
And never the twain shall meet, even if your name is Samuel Clemens.
.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 
Then one day in the mid-70s I
dreamed up the character of a vampire rabbit named Bunnicula. I'm
asked all the time where he came from. The truth is: I don't know! At
the time, there were many movie versions of Dracula being shown on
television, usually late at night. Most of them were as funny as they
were scary. It might have been this late-night viewing that inspired
Bunnicula, but as I don't remember the moment he popped (or should I
say hopped?) into my mind, I can't be sure.
It was my late wife, Deborah, who
suggested we write a children's book about him. Sounds like fun, I
thought, and so we began, never imagining we'd be creating characters
who would one day become favorites of young readers. We weren't even
thinking about getting the book published then. We were just having a
good time, writing the kind of story we would enjoy reading
ourselves. We had such a good time, we went on to write a second
story, Teddy Bear's Scrapbook.
While we were writing these two
books we learned that Debbie had cancer. She died in 1973, a short
time after the books were completed. Based on my experiences and
observations during Debbie's illness, I went on to write The
Hospital Book, a serious book, but one I enjoyed writing
nonetheless. Then I remembered how much fun I had with the characters
in Bunnicula and decided to write a second book about them,
one I eventually called Howliday Inn. Since then I have
written more books about Harold, Chester, Bunnicula,
Howie, and the Monroes, including The Celery
Stalks at Midnight, Nighty-Nightmare and Return
to Howliday Inn.
. . . .. .
,,................. .. .
A lot has happened since I started
writing books for fun. In 1981, I left my job as a literary agent and
began writing full-time. Besides the further adventures of Harold and
Chester, I've written a series of mysteries featuring a
thirteen-year-old sleuth named Sebastian Barth. I've also created a
series of short chapter books, loosely based on my own childhood,
about two best friends named Pinky and Rex. And I've written picture
books, novels, nonfiction, adaptations of classic stories, and
screenplays for movies and television. Recently, I began writing for
older readers as well. My first young adult novel is called The
Watcher.
Over the years I've learned that
there's more to being a children's author than writing books. There's
the thrill of seeing each idea develop from a lightbulb going on over
your head to a book you can hold in your hand ("Imagine," you think,
"this exists because I made it exist!"); the satisfaction of
receiving letters from readers and learning what it is they like (and
maybe don't like) about your books; and the pleasure of meeting
readers face-to-face, talking with them, and getting to know who they
are and what they're thinking. I've come to realize that there's more
to writing than my own amusement. There's the reward of fun that's
shared.
And you can make a living at it!
There's a moral to this story:
Except when she's telling you to eat mushrooms, listen to your
mother!
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