I love a story that really makes you think about things in an unexpected way. That is certainly the case with today’s picture book.

TIM WYNNE-JONES is the author of more than 35 books and is a two-time winner of the Governor General’s Award, as well as a two-time winner of the Boston Globe–Horn Book Award and of the Arthur Ellis Award. His recent books include War at the Snow White Motel and The Starlight Claim. Tim is the recipient of the Edgar Award, the Vicky Metcalf Award for a Body of Work and is an Officer to the Order of Canada. He lives in Perth, Ontario. You can learn more about him at his website or follow him on Twitter or Facebook.

KING OF THE DUMP is the story of young Teddy who goes with his father to the local recycling center. He is excited to help sort and to watch the big machines and trucks that work there. He also meets all sorts of helpers along the way, but perhaps hardest of all is the problem he faces of letting go of a favorite toy that he has outgrown. This approach is so clever! It engages even the youngest of readers with evergreen topics like big trucks (forklifts and bulldozers) and recycling. Yet it also pulls at the heart strings and empathy with the possessiveness of a young child’s “mine” mentality. It manages to teach about releasing old attachments without being didactic in any way. What an accomplishment!

Welcome Tim!

Me: Can you tell us a little bit about your writing journey? When did you start writing picture books? How has that brought you to writing this picture book?

Tim: I wrote my first picture book, Zoom at Sea, about a million years ago (or sometime in the early eighties). It spawned two sequels: Zoom Away and Zoom Upstream. Along with many novels and short story collections, I’ve written 18 picture books over the years. As my own children grew up, I drifted away from picture books, but with five grandchildren that whole wonderful world has come back into focus.

Me: I love this story of a young boy learning about recycling. What gave you the idea? 

Tim: I took one of my grandchildren, Felix — a city boy — to our local rural recycling center and he loved it. Ta da!

Me: Ha! That’s great. Your text is so spare and succinct. It also manages to capture young Teddy’s emotional struggle of letting go of a favorite toy so well. Was this always an element of your story from the first draft? Or did that come about through multiple revisions?

Tim: The emotional struggle, which is the real story here, was in the text from the beginning. While I’m big on recycling and caring for the environment, the story is always the key issue in a book and without the struggle, the book would only be “a visit to the dump.” I firmly believe that children come to understand the world through narrative. They are story-centric. The other part of your question — the sparseness of the prose — comes from my belief that children “read” the images, probably better than adults do, because for us, the words are what we most readily grasp. So I want a child to collect the essence of the story through their own reading of the imagery, letting the words take a secondary role. That said, I do try to use the best words possible, thinking about cadence and weight and the delight of new words for young eyes. It’s sort of like poetry.

Me: I love that. Cadence, weight, and delight. Speaking of delight, the illustrations by Scot Ritchie are wonderfully detailed! I wish our local recycling center looked like this. Were there any illustration surprises for you? Any favorites?

Tim: Scot is a wonderful illustrator, who happens to live in Vancouver, whereas I live in eastern Ontario. We are geographically separated by 4475 kilometers (2780 miles). So the recycling center was his invention, based, clearly on a lot of research. But, he did a grand job. Our local dump is modest in size but all the right ingredients are there and, more importantly, the feeling of the place. Our dump is a happy place to visit. I keep saying they should put a coffee shop there!

Me: Speaking of your spare writing and the amazing illustrations, the emotional crux of the story has very little text. Did you have art notes about what was happening? Or did Scot develop that pivotal interaction at the end (no spoilers given) on his own?

Tim: Before I was a writer, I was a graphic artist and book designer, whose job was marrying the right writer with the right illustrator. And I use the word marriage, here, meaningfully. In a good marriage, it seems to me, you don’t want either partner doing too much directing! I kind of think my job as a picture book writer is to send a love letter to an as yet unknown illustrator, hinting rather than telling, inviting them to finish my thoughts, and only using art notes where the content might be confusing. I don’t think I used any art notes for the pivotal interaction at the end: I really hoped the intimation would be enough. And Scot nailed it!

Me: That’s incredible! I love how it turned out too. What is one thing that surprised you in writing this story?

Tim: It all came together very quickly and organically and just seemed right from the get go. That is such a gift. If there was any surprise it was how beautifully Scot’s sense of the story aligned with my own and brought it so delightfully to life.

Me: You are an award-winning writer, an editor, and a musician. That’s a lot of hats to wear! Any advice for new picture book writers or creatives?

Tim: When you set out on a new story, make sure you’re wearing the right hat! A picture book is a collaboration and the more room each creator has to do their work the better. Try never to explain. I know that might seem an odd thing to say about a book for very young children, but I try always to fight off the didactic urge. Let the child discover their own story.

That is great advice. Thank you for stopping by my blog today to talk about your book.

Dear readers, this book was published just this week. If you haven’t had a chance yet to read it, I highly recommend tracking it down. It’s a combination of words and imagery about recycling that really nails an unexpected emotional punch. Trust me when I say you won’t want to miss it!