Monday, April 19, 2021

When Inspiration hits--Buckle up!

 I was asked where I get my story ideas. That's just the thing, you never know. But when that inspiration hits, you just have to buckle up, hold on tight and follow wherever it takes you.


My first book about Earth Day took a while. It was inspired by a letter to me (in 1971) from Earth Day's founder, Senator Gaylord Nelson, a man behind the Clean Air and Water Acts, a man who helped save the eagles from extinction. My story (which includes a talking eagle, btw) didn't arrive until 50 years later.

Inspiration for my Bluebell Saves the Day series (about a sweet-but-mischievous cat) came suddenly when a sweet-but-mischievous cat I know sneaked out an opening in our screened-in back porch--and I hoped, instead of her doing mischievous things while escaped, maybe she was out in the world doing good works. 
The direction of my upcoming book (Sophia Wanders the Wilderness: A Story of John Muir, Father of the National Parks) was inspired with a Sierra Club acknowledgement that its founder John Muir had used racist words and that Native populations had been decimated to pave the way for the National Parks. Instead of my book being an unabashed celebration of Muir's conservationist efforts, it now acts as a beginning for serious discussions about how we treat our fellow man.

The next inspiration hasn't really hit me yet. However, it may be coming. I'm working with my 88-year-old mom. She wants to catalogue her experiences about growing up in post-depression, rural Wisconsin.

I'm getting the buckle ready, just in case.

 

Saturday, April 3, 2021

My Goodreads Blog Post about Racism and Writing a Children's Book

 A few days back I posted this on Goodreads. It deals with the challenges in introducing racism and genocide of indigenous peoples in California to kids who are seven and eight years old: 

Curt Casetta's Blog: What Could Curt be Thinking?!! - Racism and Writing a Children's Book - March 21, 2021 07:11 | Goodreads


Thursday, April 1, 2021

Ah, Baseball (And I STILL Love it)

With the arrival of yet another baseball season, here's a blog post I wrote 10 years ago:

Ah, Baseball


I love baseball. It means summer, green grass, having a beverage out in the sun. And the make-up of the game is perfect for warm, lazy summer evenings--you can tune in for an inning, come back later, and probably not have missed a thing. And even if you did, every inning, every pitch, really, is classic drama: pitcher vs. batter, batter vs. fielder, fielder vs. runner. Any pitch could be the one that turns the game. And any player could be that day's hero, no matter how bad they are.

But the best thing about baseball is that you can be down to your last out and still come back to win the game. I told my second graders that before the Brewers' opener--just like life, you can be way down, and still come back. It was actually (I thought) a pretty powerful and positive message.

And it proved true. With two outs in the bottom of the ninth, Cincinnati hit a three run homer to win it.

Right message.

Wrong team.

Go, Brewers.


2021 UPDATE: Since I posted this, the Brewers, down to their last out in the ninth inning today, came back to tie the game. They won it in the 10th. See? It really IS a good lesson to learn...

Friday, December 11, 2020

Why am I writing about my cat, Bluebell?

 As some of you already know, the muse for my latest children's books is my sometimes-mischievous cat, Bluebell.  I suppose like all pet owners, I'm convinced she really is a good girl--even though when we're not looking she might do things such as jump on the counter and eat from the butter dish, or jump on the table to steal some cheese. And when I found out she discovered an opening in our back porch screen and sneaked out, I hoped she was out doing wonderful things, not naughty ones. So I thought some books would be fun.

Bluebell from a few years ago when
we were reupholstering some chairs

I learned to self-publish so I could get books out during the pandemic quarantine, and maybe give some people something else to read (and give me something to focus on). And, I was right, it has been fun. Following my most recent Bluebell book (Bluebell's Perfect Christmas), I've decided to work on another Sophia book, one in which she discovers the father of the national parks, one-time Wisconsinite, John Muir. I'm hoping to show his life, warts and all. It should be an exciting and interesting challenge. Then, I'll probably dabble in some younger reader chapter books, or, um, maybe not. We'll see where this goes.

Thanks for checking in here, and, remember, CasettaKids.com has all the info on my latest books (available on Amazon) and adventures (spoiler alert: they aren't nearly as exciting as Bluebell's...)




Sunday, March 1, 2020

Why I wrote a book about Gaylord Nelson

I always had appreciation for Gaylord Nelson, a US Senator from Wisconsin, and a tireless crusader to make the world a better place, including being the founder of Earth Day.

As a boy, Gaylord listened to an inspiring senator named Bob Lafollette and decided that, one day, he would also work to help others through public service.

And Gaylord did so in spades. He wrote or promoted legislation behind the Clean Air and Water Acts, the Wilderness Act (to save natural places), creation/continuation of national trails (including the Appalachian Trail and one in my backyard, the Ice Age Trail), forming the Environmental Protection Agency, and the banning of the chemical DDT (which was essentially driving eagles to extinction). He was a crusader, too, for landmark legislation supporting important non-environmental issues such as Civil Rights.

And he became a hero to me. I still have a letter he wrote to me following the first Earth Day, when I asked him for his bio to help me with a fifth grade report for which I had selected him as my "Great American" (the entire letter is reproduced in my upcoming book, Sophia Saves the Earth: a Story of Gaylord Nelson, Founder of Earth Day).

The book I wrote, although highlighting some of his vital environmental accomplishments, doesn't begin to cover the scope of this man's incredible legacy.  But it's a start.

And the world's an infinitely better place for it.


Wednesday, October 3, 2018

How do you choose just one?

My wonderful wife and I celebrated 20 years of marriage today.
That wedding day, in a cozy, stone church near our home in Milwaukee, was a beautiful day, a wonderful moment.
But was it the best day of my life?
How do you choose?
Was it that day? Or the day we explored a rain forest quite by accident? Or was it celebrating the 50th anniversary of her parents? Or the 80th birthday of my dad?
Maybe it was the spaghetti and meatballs she made me on Christmas Eve.
Or the too-numerous-to-count mornings we shared coffee overlooking the lake, or reading the newspaper, or just talking to one another.
It's pretty sappy, I know, but I've been blessed with moment after wonderful moment for 20 years.
And, if I don't drive her nuts, I'm certain it will be at least 20 more.

Monday, August 6, 2018

Happy, Hopped-up Hummingbirds


Hummingbirds are amazing. I love how they hover, zoom, come close enough to let me see them at feeders.

Imagine my joy, then, when our hummingbird feeder, here in the heart of the Wisconsin Northwoods, was virtually overflowing with hummingbirds.
Our hummingbirds hum much
 faster than most...

I couldn’t put my finger on why our nectar feeder was so popular—maybe there’s a lack of flowers here, I reasoned—but it’s been great.

When it came time to refill it, however, I got a clue.

My wife retrieved the refill bottle and read the label. “Oh, so you just add three parts water for every one part nectar.”

“Right…what?”

“Three parts water for every one part nectar.”

She saw my blank stare.

“You know it’s a concentrate, right?”

So that’s it. I hadn’t diluted the nectar at all—I poured it right into the feeder. And now my hummingbirds were getting all the sugar they could handle. And loving it.

It’s a straight, pure sugar buzz, or as the hummingbirds on the street call it, “the good stuff, man.”

I can just picture hummingbirds telling their little friends (perhaps a bit frenzied), “You gotta try this feeder. You just gotta try it. It’s a great feeder. You should try it. It’s great. It’s really great!” and then they zoom off to apply their sugar rush to whatever it is hummingbirds actually do.

No wonder we have hummingbirds lined up waiting clear back to Minnesota.

Alas, I’ll start diluting it, for I’m guessing it’s better for the hummingbirds that way.

I probably will do it gradually—one part water, then two, and, finally, three—so the birds don’t go into nectar withdrawal or anything.

And, eventually, like a restaurant’s clientele that dwindles when the food’s quality declines, our hummingbird feeder will no doubt be relegated to just the handful of regulars and those who come to reminisce about the glory days of the feeder.

I’ll be one of them.