James Rumford on creating Silent Music: A Story of Bagdad
Acceptance speech for Jane Addams award.
I am sorry I cannot be here today, but I want to thank you for honoring my book about peace, here in this place next to the United Nations.
In 2003, amidst all the talk of war, I wanted to write about Iraq. I wanted to talk about something positive about its culture. Gradually, an idea began to take shape: I would write about Yaqut Musta'simi, a famous calligrapher who lived in Baghdad and who survived the devastating Mongol invasion of 1258. I did some research and took notes, but no story came. I watched the nightly news with its angry images and clips from Al-Jazira filled with the dots and sweeping hooks of Arabic writing. Still no story.
Shortly after the first bombs fell on Baghdad, I went to hear Caldecott winner Allen Say talk about his work. He spoke about his books dealing with the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II and how it took sixty years before the public was willing to read about such a controversial subject.
Allen Say's words greatly affected me. That night, as I got ready for bed, a story came into my head not about Yaqut but about an Iraqi boy living in present-day Baghdad.
"I don't want that story," I said to myself. "It will never get published—or, if it does, it will take sixty years before anyone is ready to read it."
The next morning, the story was still there. Unable to resist the words any longer, I wrote them down. Later that morning, I made a dummy. Then I waited.
When the time was right, I told myself, the book would be published—and it was. My thanks to you all and to Neal Porter for accepting this award on my behalf, and for believing in a book about peace.