In partnership with the UNH library.

This is the New Hampshire Authors series from the Dimond Library at the University of New Hampshire.

Eric Pinder likes to hike and bike and teach and write.

He teaches writing at the New Hampshire Institute of Art.

He worked for the Appalachian Mountain Club and the Mount Washington Observatory.

Yes, he has survived seven years on top of Mount Washington, home to the world's worst weather.

He's also climbed that mountain 48 times.

Did you realize there's a road?

[Laughter] I've enjoyed the road.

And a train.

going the other way down.

When I had a day off, I would sometimes sled down that road.

Oh my gosh.

So he knows the White Mountains of New Hampshire.

His immersion in nature and taste for adventure infuse his writing, books like Life at the Top, which is about Mount Washington, Tying Down the Wind, and North to Katahdin, in which he walks in Thoreau's footsteps.

Lately, he's transformed into a children's book author.

His first children's book was Cat in the Clouds, and it tells the true story of Nin, a kitty who lived on Mount Washington.

He's also written a not true but very fun book called If All the Animals Came Inside, which is nominated for a Ladybug award, and the spirited, I'd Rather Be Riding My Bike.

He's not riding his bike today, and I'm glad, because there's not one thing I'd rather be doing right now than talking with our guest, Eric Pinder.

[Applause] Welcome Eric.

Thank you for inviting me.

[Applause] Would you rather be riding your bike?

I think that title in my head all the time.

All day, every day.

Most days, stuck in traffic.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Well, I've known Eric casually for a few years, but it wasn't until I began reading your books that I realized what a true adventurer you are.

And so I thought we might start by letting other people know what an adventurer you are, with a little reading from Life at the Top.

We picked this out in advance.

People often ask me, what's the scariest thing that happened to you on the summit?

And they're expecting something in the winter with blizzards and wind.

But for me, it happened in the summer.

We have an instrument called the three cup anemometer.

It spins around, and in strong winds.

We have to go up and take it down.

And this is what happened one day when I went up to take it down, as the wind was increasing.

When I pushed open the door at the top of the tower, a spittle of rain struck my face.

My flashlight cut a long yellow beam in the fog.

I wielded it like a sword, dissecting the night.

My foot splashed in a puddle on the parapet.

Off to one side an unexpected light blinked once and was gone.

But when I turned to look, the sky was black and empty.

Was it lightning, I wondered?

No storm was expected that night.

And I heard no distant thunder just the roar of the wind.

Surely it was just a stray reflection; the glow of my flashlight on the watery walls.

Up top, the three cup spun in a frenzy too fast to see.

It hummed like an angry bee and barely registered as a blur in my flashlight beam.

I reached up to pull it down.

The sky exploded, just inches over my head the sky burst into flame, or so it seemed.

Ribbons of electricity sizzled along the eastern sky line, igniting the Maine border for 100 miles.

That got my heart pounding.

I was on the highest point in New England, in a metal ring, clutching a metal instrument, and I couldn't quite unscrew the nut that was holding it in, my hand kept slipping because of all the moisture.

And then, of course, the sky explodes with lightning.

And I managed to get it off and run back inside and I think my heart pounded for another half hour or so.

So quite, quite an experience.

Those seven years on the mountain.

It was a job like no other.

Well, we'll talk more about, your nonfiction books later, but, you it's sort of in, not mid-career, but you were into your writing career quite a ways when you decided, I'm going to write for children.

And how did that come about?

Because that's a big change.

It's one is a change I've made myself as well.

So I'm interested in talking with you about it.

But how did that come about?

In college, I never would have guessed I'd be writing books for children.

I wanted to be the next Tolkien I wanted to write the next Hobbit.

And then I got sidetracked into writing about mountains.

I guess I discovered my love of nature appeared in my writing, in the books about mountains.

And then a strange thing happened.

Everyone in my circle of friends started having kids, so suddenly their houses were full of books by Seuss and Prelutsky and I picked them up and read some old favorites and some newer ones and thought, these are really good, and I wanted to try my hand at it.

And your first one was about Nin.

Yes.

Nin the Mount Washington cat.

We've always had a cat on the crew on the summit since the 1930s.

And it just seemed like the perfect topic for a children's book to show what goes on on top of the mountain from the perspective of a cat.

Yep.

And Nin was the cat who was there with you.

Yes.

Nin was the cat I knew best.

Most spoiled cat in New England.

[Laughter] It's a beautiful book and it's a great introduction to to the top of Mount Washing- to Mount Washington.

And because Nin is just a wonderful soul, a wonderful soul, Nin like to sit by the windows and watch the ravens soar.

Would you read a little bit from Nin?

We hadn't talked about that, but- Sure, do you have a particular page?

I read this page right here?

No, any page, just to get a sense of the prose, because it really is lovely.

Nin like to sit by the windows and watch the Ravens soar, he watched a red fox trot across the snow.

Once he even saw a bear.

On calm days, he patted outside, but he didn't go far.

The cold ice hurt his paws.

Spring followed winter.

The fog cleared.

The snow melted, except for a few patches gleaming in the sun.

And Nin saw other mountains far down the trail.

Two of the crew, Matt and Jake, hiked down to Mount Clay.

Nin followed them.

Meow, meow.

Wait for me!

It surprises hikers sometimes when they get up above treeline and suddenly there's a housecat on the trail.

We like to refer to the summit cats as the rare and endangered mountain house cat.

[Laughter] Now, I know you went to Vermont College of Fine Arts to study writing for children after you were an established writer for adults.

What, what drew you to that community?

Because you knew how to write?

You knew how- Well, you never finish learning how to write.

No, you never finish, learning how to write.

It's, it's always a work in progress.

We can always get better sometimes, I think this is true whether someone is right out of high school or they've been writing for 60 years, they'll look back at something they wrote five years ago and think, what was I thinking?

What made me think that was any good?

So we always get better.

I went to Vermont College of Fine Arts after visiting the campus and falling in love with it.

The program just seemed a perfect, a perfect fit.

It's a community, isn't it?

It is.

All these writing programs, you form a community with other writers and network with other writers, which becomes very important throughout your career, I think.

Yeah.

Your, your second book for children.

If all the Animals Came Inside, was illustrated by Marc Brown, and Marc Brown.

Marc Brown, [Laughter] is a very famous illustrator.

He did all the Arthur books, so he's very well known, a very established illustrator.

You must have been jumping for joy when you heard that Marc was going to illustrate your book.

How did that come about?

My editor sent me a note during the contract process.

They had contracted the book, but an illustrator hadn't been chosen yet, and she sent me a note saying, we have an illustrator in mind and it looks like it's going to happen.

We can't tell you who it is yet until all the all the contracts are signed.

But she said, you're going to be excited.

And then with that cryptic message, I had to wait for three more months.

And then I finally found out.

And yes, I was excited.

Yeah, did- now, I know many times the author and the illustrator don't meet.

They don't exchange ideas.

Was that true in your case with Marc?

We never met.

We had one email exchange over one page.

That's typical.

Usually there is the editor and the art director, our go betweens.

And once you finish publishing the manuscript, it's out of your hands.

And in the illustrators hands.

We had one email exchange about one page where I was asked to, I was asked to add a couple lines to accommodate what he had in mind for the picture on that page, And then it appeared?

and then it appeared.

And were you pleased?

I was, I was in love with it.

It's- Did Marc do I was very happy with the illustrations.

a good job?

They're beautiful.

They're beautiful.

One thing I didn't know he was going to do was hide Arthur in the background on one page.

That, that was a nice touch.

I was looking through the proofs and thought, oh, there's Arthur in the background.

I thought that was nice.

Where is he?

Some people have said it's- Show us.

Some people think of the Where's Waldo books.

You can treat this one as a Where's Arthur book.

Where's Arthur?

When the rhinos are watching TV If you look in the background, he is watching.

He's on the TV in the background.

That's great.

Would you read a little bit from that?

The style of this is completely different from Cat in the clouds.

And what I know about you is that you are a great punster and which some people are annoying when they are punsters.

I don't know you well enough to know if you're annoying, but- and you love wordplay.

And is that what led you to the rhyming books?

How did that- that's a completely different style.

I think picture books, whether they rhyme or not, are a lot like poetry in the sense that every word, every syllable has to count, has to be there for a reason so, even if it doesn't rhyme, there has to be a music to the words and I like to think of poetry as using words as a musical instrument, and you can have a lot of fun with that, especially with rhyme.

So that's what I tried to do with this book.

Why don't I just read a little bit of this?

A little bit?

If all the animals came inside, my brother would cry, my sister would hide, the doggy would bark, the kitten would hiss, my parents would make funny faces like this.

[Laughter] But I wouldn't look for a place to hide, I'd climb aboard for an elephant ride.

Thump rump bang bump, the walls would tremble, the windows would shake, Oh, what a terrible mess we would make.

The idea behind the book is that it's a lot of fun at first to have all the animals come inside, but then it becomes too much of a good thing.

Yeah, in theory.

I'll just read one more page after, after it becomes a little too much.

The bats would be dealing my cards on the ceiling, the squirrels would be squealing, the paint would be peeling.

The rhinos downstairs would be watching TV, they'd stand in the way and leave no room for me.

Spilling the popcorn and causing a riot.

Whooping and snorting, They'd never be quiet.

This was actually the page we interacted about, the rhinos with the popcorn.

A little more action.

He wanted a little more action.

Yeah.

Now, I know that you speak to many groups about, you know, Life at the Top and about Mount Washington.

And now you must be speaking to children as well?

has that happened for you?

I do visit elementary schools fairly often, and it's fun to read that book to take their questions.

The other day I read that book, and as soon as I got to that page, they were going, oh, there's Arthur!

So they, they spotted him.

They spotted him right away?

Yes.

They read the pictures.

That's what I've noticed as the kids really read those pictures, yeah.

When there's a refrain in a picture book, sort of like the refrain in a song like, oh, what a terrible mess we'll make.

They'll start to repeat it.

And when you have 100 kindergartners in an auditorium in front of you, starting to echo that line, it's it's quite, It's exciting.

It's pretty great, isn't it?

It's pretty great.

Yeah.

Eric and I have been emailing back and forth about what we might want to talk about, and one of the things that you mentioned was, like, we can talk about we can talk about rejection.

And my motto has always been, I live in the land of rejection.

And I think most writers, most artists live in the land of rejection.

You have to have a thick skin.

Would you talk a little bit about that?

Because it's not an easy course.

I would change that from most to all.

Yes, all.

I've yet to find an exception.

Every, every writer, every artist gets rejection.

I have a folder that I bring into some of my writing classes.

It's about this thick and I drop it on the desk with a thud.

And I tell them that folder is full of rejection slips from publishers.

And then their faces drop and I tell them I have four more of those that are just as thick, and their faces drop some more.

So you do need a thick skin.

It's a matter of persistence.

Keep keep perfecting your craft and keep persisting.

And eventually persistence pays off.

My advice to writers is don't hurry and don't give up.

That's great advice.

Don't hurry and don't give up.

Don't hurry because the piece you wrote last week is going to be better when you revise it six months from now.

You don't want to send it out right away because you're excited about it and have all the places you'd like to see it in print, rejected.

So don't hurry.

Give it time to stew.

Give it time to be polished and perfected.

But don't give up when those rejections come in.

Because, because they will.

I'm not sure if I made up this number or if I read it somewhere, but I tell my classes that the average writer will receive 200 rejections before their first acceptance.

So I tell them- I think that's low.

[Laughter] It may be, well, I tell them, when your first rejection comes in, don't feel down.

Don't feel like, oh, this is a sad day.

Instead, think of it as yes, only 199 more to go.

And all writers, all artists need to get to have time to write.

But they also have to, you know, have an income.

And how have you balanced that?

I know you teach?

Teaching, especially teaching writing does use the same part of your brain as writing creatively.

So often, often I find I get most of my own writing done in the summer over summer vacation, or on the weekend.

The business side of writing takes just as much time, if not more, as the creative side.

So things like updating your author website, answering email from readers, promoting yourself, doing programs like this, visiting schools and libraries.

All of that is part of the job of of being a writer.

Yeah, you cobble it together, you figure it out.

And I think writing different kinds of books, does help because it sort of broadens your audience and broadens your appeal.

Well, one of your students mentioned Thoreau.

It's almost as bad as Thoreau.

And I know that.

I know that you have read a lot of Thoreau, and you've thought a lot about his work.

You know, the original nature writer.

And in fact, this book, the Katahdin book, North to Katahdin, you kind of walk in Thoreau's footsteps, except Eric gets a lot farther up the mountain than Thoreau ever did.

Would you talk a little bit about this book and how you weave the work of Thoreau into it, or Thoreau into it?

The thorough job you do?

Oh, I just made a pun!

Puns are good.

Or play on words.

See how he perks right up?

Puns are dangerous.

I probably shouldn't get started on puns.

Oh, you could get- One of my favorite Thoreau related puns, though is one day, they had to close off the pond from tourists, so it became a walled-in pond.

[Laughter] I'm very interested always in the structure of books, because for me, that's one of the biggest challenges, is how do we put this all together?

You know what comes first, second and third, but also what can we expect at certain points?

You know, what's the rhythm of the book?

What's the pattern?

Would you talk a little bit about how this all unfolds in North to Katahdin?

I think all good stories are about change, and looking at how the experience of hiking a mountain has changed from the 1800s to today seemed like a good structure for a book.

So I sort of followed in Thoreau’s footsteps.

So back and forth between then and now, then and now.

You have a beautiful passage in that book which compares writing to mountain climbing.

And since that's sort of been our topic, you know, just those it's interesting to me that the mountain climbing piece is so solitary, I think, and the writing piece is so solitary, it seems all one with you somehow.

Are you very solitary person?

I suppose to write you have to be solitary.

And when you're actually doing the writing, it's hard to write surrounded by noise.

So in a way, hiking, hiking up a mountain on your own is a lot like writing.

It's where you can clear your thoughts and find the thoughts that have been bubbling under the surface of your, of your consciousness.

I get all my best ideas when I'm walking with the dogs, but we hardly ever go uphill.

I don't really see the point of that.

I think the muses are very cruel and mischievous.

Yeah?

Because I also get my best ideas if I am hiking or maybe on my bike in the middle of nowhere, 15 miles from home with nothing to write on.

That is when the perfect sentence will appear in my head, and I will be saying it in my head, over and over as I race home to try to get something to write on before I forget it.

What have we learned from this?

I should always bring a pen and paper [Laughter] I should.

What- would you read a little bit, or just maybe talk us through and read a little bit from that comparison of writing to climbing?

I find it really profound.

The hardest part of mountain climbing is writing it all down.

By comparison, it's easy to straddle boulders in a place well known or trace a route heavily marked with foot, with the footprints of those who have gone before.

Wooden signs beg people to stick to the trails, partly to protect fragile plant growth, but also to spare the rangers the chore, the chore of searching for stragglers at night.

You're not allowed to lose yourself to step on new ground.

Please keep out.

Please keep off the alpine grass as a sign that juts from the mist of the table lands on Katahdin, where one person goes, the rest will follow.

But the writer has no easy trail, no fixed direction, no footprints to follow.

Writing is an exercise in bushwhacking.

You carry a pen instead of a machete and cut a single narrow trail through a forest of possibilities.

The location of the trailhead comes as a surprise.

You start with only a vague expectation of where you want to go.

A trace someplace high where the wind is cold and the view endless, but no clue about how to get there.

Trees get in the way.

Thousands upon thousands of trees, shrubs, mosses and ferns.

It's impossible to describe them all.

You must pick and choose.

Unless you are very lucky.

You'll get lost.

Describe the wrong things.

Discover the bottom of the valley instead of the crest of the hill.

Then you must decide.

Do you want to write about valleys or mountains?

If the answer is still mountains, you retrace your footsteps, erase the digression, and begin again.

No signs are posted to say this is the right way.

No guidebooks describe convenient shortcuts.

Not a single tree is dabbed with blue paint.

You must find the trail yourself.

I love that image of you, go back to the beginning, you you recur.

You go back to the beginning, and you try it again, and you try it again, and so many misdirections.

So many misdirections.

I've forgotten who said this, some famous writer said this about the revision process.

He or she said you're not done revising until you have to delete your favorite part.

And that's painful sometimes, but I found it's true.

A lot of revision is backtracking, is deleting is starting over.

Where's the joy in writing for you?

There is no joy in writing.

[Laughter] Are you serious?

For me, there's no joy in starting.

The blank page when I'm starting, that is agony.

It's when I finally get momentum.

I finally get on a roll.

I finally see where I'm going.

That's when the joy comes in.

When I feel like, yes, this is going somewhere.

Yes, I'm creating something worthwhile, but starting something new, that is always agony for me.

Do you have a circle of, writing friends who help you with that?

Do you send stuff out to people?

Do you have a group?

I do, and I think that's what school writing communities are for.

That's where you establish your network of writing friends, people who can read your rough drafts and tell you you need to delete this whole page, sorry or reassure you.

Yes, this actually is good.

Well, Eric and I were talking before we started and I said if there was time at the very end, what I'd like to do with this, with, with children's book authors, especially picture book authors is have them read a book to us so we can be five years old again.

So, Eric, shortest book.

[Laughter] Which is called I'd Rather be Riding My Bike.

So would you all like to hear it?

We would.

Thank you, Eric, and don't forget to show the pictures.

I know you're a professional.

I, I think I wrote this for me because I think this title in my head all the time.

It's a book about patience.

The bus is late.

I have to wait?

I'd rather be riding my bike.

[Page turning] The school day is long.

I know what's wrong.

I want to go riding my bike.

At recess, we go out to play.

We play the same game every day.

My friends think kickball is A-okay, but I'd rather be riding my bike.

You read the next page for me.

[Laughter] My teacher paints and wears a smock while I keep looking at the clock.

I know this may come as a shock.

I'd rather be riding my bike.

At 2 o’clock, the school day's done.

Don't miss the bus home.

Hurry!

Run!

You'll never guess how I have fun.

I like to go riding my bike.

I just can't wait.

The bus is slow.

I tell the driver.

Go go go.

In case you really want to know, I need to go riding my bike.

[Chuckling] My parents give me chores to do.

I'll do the things they want me to.

But here's a secret.

Just for you.

[Whispering] I'd rather be riding my bike.

My family wants to sit and talk.

My baby sister starts to squawk.

The doggy whimpers for a walk.

I'd rather be riding my bike.

[Laughter] Really, really, really, really, rather be riding my bike.

The sun is still out.

I'm stuck here inside.

When will I ever get outside to ride?

Not till I get all these shoelaces tied.

I want to go riding my bike.

My homework is done.

There's no more to do.

I'm ready for fun now.

How about you?

Bedtime is not for an hour or two.

So let's go riding our bikes.

My helmet is on.

I'm spinning my feet, pedaling fast as I can up the street.

Bet you can't catch me.

But if you can.

Neat!

Hooray!

We're riding our bikes!

Hurray!

The road is a blur.

There's wind in my hair.

I'm flying, flying as fast as I dare.

Bedtime is coming.

But now I don't care.

I'm finally riding my bike.

Awe.

Thank you.

[Applause] Well, we've talked about a lot of things today.

Thank you Eric.

It's a it's a beautiful day.

I think he's had that thought a couple of times.

[Laughter] Thank you very much.

Well done.

Well done.

[Applause] ♪♪