Thoughts & News

Finding Wild, now popular with adorable hedgehogs

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photo credit: @ernest_hedgingway

I’ve always wanted a pet hedgehog. When I was younger, my dad wasn’t on board–he said we might as well just get a cactus (obviously not quite understanding my hedgehog obsession…) And then we moved to a state where they aren’t allowed. And as an adult, the time has never been quite right. (But I’m still hoping to get one someday!) So you can imagine how I felt when I saw this photo on Instagram of this adorable hedgehog, Ernest Hedgingway, enjoying FINDING WILD! Totally made my day!!! Thank you @ernest_hedgingway!

A New Picture Book!!!

I’ve been traveling, so I’m late posting this, but I just had to share the good news here in case anyone didn’t hear me shouting from the rooftops. I’ve got a new picture book in the works! HOORAY! I’m so excited about this one: THE ABCS OF CATCHING ZZZS. You know those little ZZZs above sleeping people in illustrations? Well…how are you supposed to go to sleep when your ZZZs go missing?

I’m so happy that this manuscript is going to become a book, so thankful to my agent Ammi-Joan Paquette for sticking by it, and so grateful to Victoria Rock at Chronicle for taking a chance on it!

See the full announcement from my agency’s website below:

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share your pictures with @findingwild

@findingwild

(I’m cross-posting this from @meganwagnerlloyd:)

Hey amazing readers, teachers, librarians, parents, and caregivers! Please tag your outdoorsy, wild-finding photos @findingwild and I’ll repost them to the new FINDING WILD account! I’m so excited to see how you and the kids in your lives connect to the book and get outside and explore! Follow along @findingwild

Can’t wait to see your pictures! I hope you all are having a marvelous summer.

Megan

P.S. I have two storytime-and-signing events coming up soon in Salt Lake City, Utah and Brewster, Massachusetts (and btw I nominate Massachusetts for having the best spelling of any state). Hope to see you there!

Happy Summer!

Happy Summer, everybody!

To try to start the season off right, I went for a walk on the first day of summer, looking for some wild.

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Trees, people. I love them.

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There’s a frog hidden in there…

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This turtle was bigger than it looks–its shell was about the size of a steering wheel, though more of an oval.

I don’t know how much website updating I’ll be able to do for the next couple of months, but I’ll still be around on Instagram (@meganwagnerlloyd).

My summer goals: write, read, spend time with the people I love, and get outside.

Happy Book Birthday to Finding Wild! (And a Goodreads Giveaway!)

Finding Wild jpeg

Finding Wild is out today!

HOORAY!!!!!

In 2003, I wrote my first picture book manuscript. And today–thirteen years of ideas and drafts and revisions later–my first published picture book is ready to be shared with kids everywhere!

Endless thanks to my awesome agent Ammi-Joan Paquette, my editor extraordinaire Julia Maguire, my incredible illustrator Abigail Halpin, and my fabulous publisher Knopf/Random House for helping make my dream a reality!

It makes me so incredibly happy to think of kids and their families and caregivers enjoying FINDING WILD together. I hope they love it. I hope it inspires them to go outside!

To celebrate FINDING WILD’s release, I’m giving away a free copy (signed by yours truly) on Goodreads. If you’re on Goodreads, enter for a chance to win!

 

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Finding Wild by Megan Wagner Lloyd

Finding Wild

by Megan Wagner Lloyd

Giveaway ends May 16, 2016.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/widget/185618

On Moving and Memories

I’ve just moved, again.

This move wasn’t very difficult, as far as moves go. And it’s definitely a change for the better. A change I am grateful for.

But still—a change.

The strangest part of moving for me: each time I move I feel like I’m leaving my memories behind, caught in their old places like butterflies pinned behind glass. And I worry that I won’t be able to access them as easily, that without those specific stairs to walk down, I won’t be able to remember the baby who flung out her arms with each step, afraid of falling, so that I had to learn to hold her tighter, that without the rectangle of dirt next to the patio fence, I won’t be able to recall the traps that were built there, peanut butter spread on cardboard, small faces peeking out the window, in hopes of catching Big Foot, that without the same sliding closet drawer I won’t be able to hold onto the image of the toddler who always yanked it open and threw out socks with all her might.

And going further back, to my childhood homes: I can never return to the patch of fuzzy carpet where the sun fell just-so, right by the bookcase, so that I could pull out a book and lie in the sunshine and read; or to the view from my bedroom window, with the field and the black walnut tree and the creek where a blue heron would come, always poised, always elegant; or to the underside of the row of redwoods in another backyard, where baby bunnies were born, all eyes-closed and pink-nosed and tiny.

To me, memories like these feel tied to their houses, their apartment, their yards, like fish bound to the sea. Yes, I can always throw a fishing line into my memory, tug around see what I can find…

But it’s never quite the same.

I know that our new home will soon become just that: home. That we’ll play games and scrub floors and make waffles and, soon, I won’t have to fumble, searching for the light switch in each room. I’ll know if the oven runs a little too hot or a little too cold, and we’ll quickly figure out which is the warmest room of the house in winter. And I’m grateful for that. I am. I’m deeply thankful for the happy moments, for having a warm and safe home in the first place.

But even as I’m grateful for the new, a small part of me always misses the old.

That’s why I don’t like driving by my past homes. Because I can’t help but hope that if I stop my car, if I get out, everything will be the same, that I’ll go inside and the right baby will be waking up from her nap, cheeks soft and rosy from sleep, and the right smell will be in the kitchen (chocolate chip cookies, of course), and that, somehow, while I’ve been away, everything will have stayed the same, so that I’ll be able to go back into the past as easily as walking through a door.