Talk and Tales from Coco, Optimist in Charge at The Shiny Butter Blog
Hey, hey, Reader,
The year was 1969, I was six-years-old, and there sat my first-grade classmates and I, circled up in our little bitty chairs having a very serious discussion.
Our teacher had been reading a picture book to us but stepped away, so we, at the risk of ruining the story for ourselves, grabbed the book and started looking ahead.
What we found shocked us to our core! We were concerned and confused! We tried to decide what it meant!
Here's what we saw—get this: a two-page spread with no pictures.
Shocking, right?!?
We passed the book back and forth, and we all agreed that something was wrong with the book. Finally, before "Miss Haywood" came back, we came to a conclusion.
And I want you to know it was a unanimous decision—we all concluded that this was the end of the book.
It had to be, right?
We put the book back on Miss Haywood's chair before she came back. We didn't tell her what we'd done nor what we'd discovered.
Later in the school year when we found out that picture books sometimes have pages with no pictures, the classroom was heavy with disappointment.
I'm not going to lie and tell you I'm not still disappointed over this.
It wasn't right then, and it still isn't.
Goodnight moon, hello Edward the Emu
I was in the post office yesterday picking up my mail and also buying a book of dahlia stamps (beautiful!) and a couple of sheets of "Goodnight Moon" stamps, which are every bit as perfect as they sound, get you some.
The postmaster and I made some post-office small talk—you know; stamp prices, the lack of exciting holiday stamps last year, what a pain package slips are, the new Barbara Bush stamps (what??), that sort of thing.
Then we got to talking about how the postmaster's 9-year-old has outgrown "Goodnight Moon," so I recommended a book for kids a little older, one that my now-grown daughter (and I) loved.
Listen, we all know that kids' books can be like broccoli—
good for you but they need cheese, yawn. Books that make you want to pull your hair out if you have to read them one. more. time.
But this book is far more than a well-illustrated moral lesson, or worse, some gratuitous kid-marketed thing that makes romance novels look deep.
Edward the Emu is one of those kids' books that cuts through all the blabbedy-blab-in-200-pages of adult books—the kind with zero pictures, I might add—and makes a meaningful point without the pain.
Plus, this one kind of hits you in the gut.
It feels real. And since I'm on a be-real kick here lately, I wanted to let you and not just the postmaster know about Edward the Emu.
It's a book that gave both me and my daughter assurance and confidence to keep on being real and being ourself.
And I swear to you on top of my weird book list, no judgment if $5 is what works for you.
Click the picture to purchase:
click the picture ↑
Please, please take advantage of these sales.
This isn't just for people in a terrible pinch. We're all feeling tension and concern these days.
This is for absolutely anyone, even someone you share this email with.
So:
Get the book for some quiet, meaningful, fun (if I do say so myself) DIY inner work.
Get on my schedule for face-to-face time to talk privately—imagine a full hour to be listened to and understood.
The important thing is: trend toward taking care of your tender heart.
Thanks for being on the other side of the screen today
Shine on, my friend,
Coco
p.s. Like all good picture books, thank you Edward the Emu, my next email will have loads of pictures... photos I've taken recently. I'm hoping they'll to stir up a knot in your throat like they do mine. Stay tuned and stay shiny.
*This is my Amazon affiliate link for Edward the Emu, meaning I'm compensated if you buy from my link—and judging by my oddball book list, I think you can tell I only recommend things I like.
note about ai
I write these emails without any input or help from AI.
My aim in all my writing is to be as real, human, and fully alive as possible—and to share my very real, human, fully alive experience with my readers.
[Also, as of 5/6/25 all photos are my own (not stock) unless otherwise stated.]
