When I was 7, I wrote and illustrated a book. A short book, mind you. Crude illustrations. But I had a story to tell and a vision in my head and I felt the need to get it out. My family and I can still conjure hearty laughs at the subject: a character with a bright red beard named Fire Yogurt—I told many a story involving him.
A few years ago I found the book. Reading it was hilarious and heartwarming. I finally discovered how my little brain came up with his name: turns out his wife’s name was Frozen Yogurt. I must have thought “Fire” was a fitting opposite/companion.
His adventures are a roadmap of my 7 year old life: Fire Yogurt meets up with Injun Joe (my parents were reading me Tom Sawyer), Fire Yogurt moves to Puerto Rico (my dad is Puerto Rican and we had just visited there as a family for the first time), Fire Yogurt celebrates his 40th birthday (we had just celebrated my grandparents' 40th anniversary). I thought I was being unique in my storytelling, but it turns out I was just telling the story of my own life with some creative flair and colorful characters added in. And that's what I intend to do here.
I think my 7-year-old self was onto something: chronicling life, expressing it colorfully, creating something concrete as a memory. And so I think it's time to write the sequel to Fire Yogurt. I'll take the grammar and the illustrations up a notch, but I hope my childhood spirit will still reign supreme...
Puerto Rico. Illus. in Fire Yogurt (New Jersey, 1989), p. 8
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