newbery honor author 

new york times bestseller

Gennifer Choldenko
Gennifer Choldenko
Al Capone Does My Shirts
More about Gennifer

Interview

Al Capone Does My Shirts was the most chal­leng­ing book I’ve yet to write. While I was work­ing on the book, I stood on my tip­py toes stretch­ing to do more than I was quite able. I’ve nev­er worked so hard on any­thing, not ever. But I’ve also nev­er felt so proud of any­thing I’ve done before.

Q: Where do you write?

I write in a tiny shoe box sized room in my home. The best thing about my writ­ing space is my chair. I’m like the three lit­tle bears about my chair. It is nei­ther too big or too small, too soft or too hard. It is my chair and it fits me just so. The sec­ond best thing about my writ­ing space is my door. I keep it closed so my char­ac­ters will stay inside with me and not wan­der all around the house.

Q: How do you develop a voice for your characters? Do you, or do they come to you full-blown?

The voice for Al Capone Does My Shirts did not come eas­i­ly. The ear­ly drafts of the man­u­script sound­ed like every 1930’s book, radio pro­gram or movie I’d ever heard all rolled into one. Then one day I real­ized there were mil­lions and mil­lions of peo­ple alive in 1935 — each with his or her own voice. That was a break­through. Moose’s voice came soon after that.

Q: Who is your favorite character in this book?

I love all the char­ac­ters in Al Capone Does My Shirts, but I guess if you’re forc­ing me to pick, I’ll go with There­sa, Piper and of course Moose. I love There­sa because she reminds me of me when I was sev­en. I was quirky and pesty and I had to be includ­ed in absolute­ly everything.

I like Moose because he has a fun­ny way of see­ing the world. He’s kind and intel­li­gent and he tries so hard to do the right thing. And I like Piper because she’s nev­er apolo­getic. She’s clever, cal­lous and cun­ning, not to men­tion supreme­ly self-cen­tered. But she’s also con­fi­dent, extreme­ly bright and full of great ideas. What I like best about Piper is how much she loves Moose. Some­thing about the rela­tion­ship between Moose and Piper fas­ci­nates me. There’s a mag­net­ic attrac­tion which brings both their per­son­al­i­ties into bal­ance somehow.

Q: What was the most challenging thing about writing this book?

Writ­ing Al Capone Does My Shirts seemed like try­ing to get 300 dogs to howl all at the same time. For a long time it felt like I was writ­ing two dif­fer­ent books. Book one was about Moose’s exte­ri­or life, the life on the island and book two was about Moose’s inte­ri­or life, his life with his fam­i­ly. It was very chal­leng­ing to weave both those books togeth­er and yet it seemed so impor­tant because, like all of us, Moose behaves dif­fer­ent­ly among his friends than he does at home. It didn’t seem pos­si­ble to real­ly see who he was unless we expe­ri­enced both parts.

I have, quite hon­est­ly, nev­er worked on any one project as hard as I worked on Al Capone Does My Shirts. Luck­i­ly for me I have a world class edi­tor in Kathy Daw­son who real­ly “got” the book. And she kept nip­ping at my heels until I wrote the book we knew Al Capone Does My Shirts could be.

Q: Where did you get the idea for Al Capone Does My Shirts? And what kind of research did you have to do for this book, if any?

I got the idea for Al Capone Does My Shirts when I read an arti­cle in the news­pa­per about kids who grew up on Alca­traz. These chil­dren were the sons and daugh­ters of the guards who worked in the cell house that housed some of America’s most noto­ri­ous crim­i­nals. With­in a week of read­ing the arti­cle, I signed up to work as a docent on Alcatraz.

I spent a year as a docent. I inter­viewed peo­ple who grew up on the island, read hand­writ­ten records of inmates, guards and kids who lived on the island. I went to an Alca­traz Island “Alum­ni Day” where I heard dozens of old Alca­traz res­i­dents (from both sides of the bars) speak. I hob­nobbed with sev­er­al of the many Alca­traz heads, who know every arcane fact about the place. I read dozens and dozens of books and spent count­less hours roam­ing the island imag­in­ing how it would feel to be Moose.

I researched before I start­ed writ­ing, while I was writ­ing, and while I was revis­ing. I even had to look up a few things dur­ing the copy edit­ing stage.

Q: Did anything unusual happen while you were working on the book?

Right from the begin­ning of the research, bizarre lit­tle coin­ci­dences began to occur. One day I’d come up with an incred­i­bly wacky idea and a few days lat­er I’d dis­cov­er some­thing remark­ably sim­i­lar actu­al­ly hap­pened in real life. Even the title has his­toric resonance.

Al Capone’s first job on Alca­traz was work­ing the man­gle in the laun­dry facil­i­ty that ser­viced all of the peo­ple who lived on Alca­traz, includ­ing the guards, their wives and chil­dren. And so I fig­ured if I were a kid liv­ing on Alca­traz I’d tell my friends “Al Capone does my shirts.” When the man­u­script was fin­ished one of the his­to­ri­ans we used to vet Al Capone Does My Shirts asked me why I didn’t use the real quote. “What real quote?” I asked. “Al Capone does my shorts,” he said. Appar­ent­ly WWII GIs some­times used the phrase: Al Capone does my shorts” to indi­cate they were sta­tioned in San Francisco.

Q: Did Al Capone Does My Shirts change very much from first draft to last? How?

When I speak on writ­ing I talk about how impor­tant it is to con­sid­er the chem­istry between the char­ac­ters in your book. The exam­ple I use describes one of the sig­nif­i­cant changes I made in the manuscript.

“Ever have a par­ty with peo­ple from dif­fer­ent parts of your life, who don’t know each oth­er and they all get togeth­er and WOW there’s this snap crack­le pop thing hap­pen­ing. Peo­ple are spark­ing. Your yoga teacher hits it off with your uncle the sharp shoot­er. Even the pets are get­ting along. The same thing can hap­pen or fail to hap­pen in your nov­el. I don’t know about you, but I’ve thrown dud par­ties too. Every per­son looks at his or her watch and has some­place else they have to be. I had a very pol­ished draft of Al Capone Does My Shirts fin­ished when I real­ized that my group of sec­ondary char­ac­ters — the kids on the island — didn’t have enough chem­istry. It’s not that they were bad char­ac­ters. They were fun­ny. They were orig­i­nal. I liked them. But they didn’t gel with each oth­er. So I kicked them out of the book. It was a huge amount of work. It just about killed me. But out of that came the fun­ni­est char­ac­ter in the whole nov­el, There­sa Mat­ta­man. I didn’t plan her either. She just showed up one day.”

Q: What kind of challenges, if any, did you come across while writing this book?

The main rea­son Al Capone Does My Shirts means so much to me is because of the rela­tion­ships in the book. Like the main char­ac­ter Moose, I grew up with a sib­ling who had autism. And though I am not Moose and my sis­ter is not Natal­ie there’s no doubt that this expe­ri­ence fueled the book.

But the fact that this book is “close to home” gave it some addi­tion­al bag­gage as well. It was extreme­ly con­fus­ing and ter­ri­bly frus­trat­ing to grow up with a sib­ling who had autism. I real­ly want­ed to reach out to oth­er chil­dren who are the sib­lings of chil­dren with prob­lems. It was very impor­tant to me that the book ring true to those kids.

On the oth­er hand, I felt like I’d be doing the sub­ject a great dis­ser­vice if I wrote a drea­ry-down­er-deal­ing-with-dis­ease kind of book. I thought I’d do the top­ic greater jus­tice if I wrote a more uni­ver­sal book — a fun book full of unex­pect­ed plot twists — a book every­one would want to read.

Q: Who influenced you to become a writer?

My strongest influ­ence to become a writer and my strongest influ­ence not to become a writer were the same per­son. My dad. Writ­ing was my father’s pas­sion. He wrote every day of his life. But, his reg­u­lar 9–5 job was as a busi­ness exec­u­tive and he was nev­er able to get his work pub­lished, no mat­ter how hard he tried. And he tried very hard.

And so I learned two things from him. One was that writ­ing was a blast and two was it would break your heart. It took me a long time to come to terms with this for myself and to be will­ing to take the risks nec­es­sary to pur­sue a career as a writer. Unfor­tu­nate­ly, my father died when I was a teenag­er, so he nev­er lived to see me pub­lish any­thing. But he was one of the most gen­er­ous peo­ple I have ever known. I know he would have been very proud of me.

Q: What was your first job as a teen?

I braid­ed manes and tails for horse shows. I was nev­er as good as Lynn Moscrop or Lisa Polaire though, so they made a lot more mon­ey than I did. I soon moved on to my sec­ond job which was horse back rid­ing instruc­tor for blind and deaf children.

Q: If you could have any superpower, what would it be and what would you do with it?

I know I should say I’d like the pow­er to cre­ate world peace, but the truth is what I’d real­ly like is to be a fly on the wall … only I hate flies. So how about if I could bor­row Har­ry Potter’s invis­i­bil­i­ty cloak? I am incred­i­bly, amaz­ing­ly, astound­ing­ly nosy. I love to lis­ten in on con­ver­sa­tions I’m not sup­posed to hear. I love to know people’s secrets and to see how peo­ple act when they don’t think they’re being observed.

And I like to know all of this when I first meet a per­son. If I had my way I’d dis­pense with all small talk and go right for the heart of things. Hello-my-name-is-Gennifer-what-is-the-most-embarrassing-experience-of-your-entire-life?”

Q: What do you like on your pizza?

Black olives and red onions.