August 11th, 2009 by Karen
Holy moly, Batman! I just heard today that Jon Scieszka, M.T. Anderson, Natalie Babbitt, Kate Di Camillo, Daniel Handler (aka Lemony Snicket), Megan McDonald, Katherine Paterson, and a whole bunch of other crazy-awesome children’s book authors are teaming up to write a serial adventure story together! And guess what it’s called! Okay, I’m too impatient to wait for you to guess, I’m just going to tell you: it’s called The Exquisite Corpse Adventure. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
The story will be posted in chunks over the course of a year on the Library of Congress’ website (http://www.read.gov). The first installment will launch at the Library of Congress’ National Book Festival, on Saturday, September 26. I, for one, cannot wait. I already put it on my calendar. Seriously.
In addition to driving me batty with anticipation, this project also got me thinking about who else I’d love to see writing about exquisite corpses and their adventures. Like I said, this is an amazing group of authors that the Library of Congress got together. But when it comes to the undead, there are a few more names I would want to add to the list — my personal (undead) author all-star team, if you will:
- Neil Gaiman (author of Coraline and The Graveyard Book, which won the latest Newbery Medal)
- R.L. Stine (author of Goosebumps)
- Rick Riordan (author of Percy Jackson and the Olympians)
- Jim Benton (author of Dear Dumb Diary — for some reason, I just think he would be HILARIOUS at corpses)
- Roald Dahl (hey, if this story is about corpses, then I’m allowed to resurrect a deceased author, right?)
So, what do you think of my picks? Anyone else you would add? Or any that you disagree with (like that’s even possible)? Tell me in the comments!
And if you’re like me and just can’t wait until September 26th to begin your exquisite corpse adventure, here’s a sneak peek at how it starts (which I got from Publisher’s Weekly):
This story starts with a train rushing through the night. The full moon lights the silver rails winding around dark mountains, through deep woods, and over steep gorges of jagged rock and one freezing cold rushing black mountain river. I wish there was enough time to describe all of the funny (and touching) twists and turns — especially the Elephant Clown Party — that led up to now. But there isn’t. Enough time. Because there is a ticking clock. And the two passengers we care most about don’t know anything about it.