Eve Bunting, 2017. Santa Cruz, CA
More than forty years ago I was invited to a party to celebrate the publication of Eve Bunting’s 100th book. I was in awe. How could anyone write, much less publish, one hundred books! Eve kept writing, surpassing 250 books and winning countless awards. Last week, at age 94, Eve passed away. Her first book, published in 1971, was The Two Giants, an Irish tale. She is a giant among today’s children book writers and will be sorely missed.
I first met Eve Bunting in 1977 when I heard her speak at the summer conference of the Society of Children’s Book Writers—SCBW—at the Miramar Hotel in Santa Monica. (The “I” for illustrators was added some years later.) Eve was already a prolific author and as she spoke in her lilting Irish accent, I said to myself, if she ever teaches a class in the Writer’s Program at UCLA Extension, I will take it. The following spring, her class in writing middle grade fiction was offered, and I signed up, along with twenty other fledgling writers. Week after week we each brought chapters of our novels to class. Eve read them aloud and we learned about voice, point of view, setting, character and all the elements necessary to write a compelling story. But probably the most important advice she passed along was the role of a writing group. She often mentioned her own writing group, Lunch Bunch, which had grown out of the writing class she took as a beginning writer. So, like Eve and her classmates had done, at the end of our ten-week class, we formed our own group. We met once a month thereafter, critiquing one another’s writing, sharing news, and soon celebrating our own publishing successes.
It was in Eve’s class that I met Herma Silverstein. (Herma and I subsequently collaborated on two books and she also published a number of her own.) For many years, Herma, Eve and I celebrated our birthdays together, exchanging small gifts, eating lunch at a nice restaurant and then going shopping. I don’t remember how this tradition started, but Eve always liked to go out to eat and loved to shop, especially if we could find bargains! Eve’s birthday is December 19th, and I have many fond memories of arriving at her house in Pasadena all decorated for Christmas, before we went out for our birthday lunch. Eve’s husband Ed, after he retired, was always there with a smiling face to greet us at the door. At our lunches Eve would always share her newest books and publishing news and be eager to hear ours. After Herma moved to Palm Desert, we met less often, but Eve and I did go on an expedition together to see her new house and go out to lunch there. (Herma passed away several years ago.)
The last time I saw Eve in person was in 2017 after she moved to Santa Cruz to be closer to her daughter. It was on a day trip to Santa Cruz from Oakland with my friend and fellow writer Joanne Rocklin. (Joanne had also been a student in one of Eve’s UCLA classes.) Not surprisingly, Eve had some new books to show us. Again, we went out to lunch, but instead of going shopping afterward, we took a walk along the ocean cliffs on the path that began just outside the door of Eve’s house.
During the Pandemic it was not possible to visit in person, but Eve and I kept in touch by email. In my last email from her, when she was 93, and recently moved to a retirement community, she wrote:
I am well. I enjoy where I am and know how lucky I am to find such a place. I’m not writing. ... My last little PB has done well. “Hello, Baby, I’m your Mom.” So who knows…maybe I’ll do another!
Love, Eve
I don’t believe that Eve wrote another picture book since that email. But I wouldn’t be surprised to hear she that she is coming up with new story ideas up in Heaven!
Eve was my friend, my hero, my role model. I will miss her.
Caroline, Herma, Eve, 1995.
