Muncha! Muncha! Muncha!
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Tippy, tippy, tippy, Pat! That's the sound three hungry bunnies make when the sun goes down and the moon comes up and Mr. McGreely's garden smells yum, yum, yummy. While he's dreaming of his mouth-watering carrots, the bunnies are diving over fences and swimming trenches to get the veggies first!
Tippy, tippy, tippy, Pat!
That’s the sound three hungry bunnies make when the sun goes down and the moon comes up and Mr. McGreely’s garden smells yum, yum, yummy. While he’s dreaming of his mouth-watering carrots, the bunnies are diving over fences and swimming trenches to get the veggies first!
Hammer, hammer, hammer, Saw!
That’s the sound Mr. McGreely makes when the sun comes up and the moon goes down and he sees what those twitch-whiskers have done….Nibbled leaves! Empty stalks! Mr. McGreely will build something bigger and better, sure to keep even pesky puff-tails away.
Children will cheer for the bunnies — or for Mr. McGreely — as they delight in Candace Fleming’s clever sound effects and G. Brian Karas’s vibrant, funny illustrations.
About the Author
I have always been a storyteller. Even before I could write my name, I could tell a good tale. And I told them all the time. As a preschooler, I told my neighbors all about my three-legged cat named Spot. In kindergarten, I told my classmates about the ghost that lived in my attic. And in first grade I told my teacher, Miss Harbart, all about my family’s trip to Paris, France.
I told such a good story that people always thought I was telling the truth. But I wasn’t. I didn’t have a three-legged cat or a ghost in my attic, and I’d certainly never been to Paris, France. I simply enjoyed telling a good story… and seeing my listener’s reaction.
Sure, some people might have said I was a seven-year old fibber. But not my parents. Instead of calling my stories “fibs” they called them “imaginative.” They encouraged me to put my stories down on paper. I did. And amazingly, once I began writing, I couldn’t stop. I filled notebook after notebook with stories, poems, plays. I still have many of those notebooks. They’re precious to me because they are a record of my writing life from elementary school on.
In second grade, I discovered a passion for language. I can still remember the day my teacher, Miss Johnson, held up a horn-shaped basket filled with papier-mache pumpkins and asked the class to repeat the word “cornucopia.” I said it again and again, tasted the word on my lips. I tested it on my ears. That afternoon, I skipped all the way home from school chanting, “Cornucopia! Cornucopia!” From then on, I really began listening to words–to the sounds they made, and the way they were used, and how they made me feel. I longed to put them together in ways that were beautiful, and yet told a story.
As I grew, I continued to write stories. But I never really thought of becoming an author. Instead, I went to college where I discovered yet another passion–history. I didn’t realize it then, but studying history is really just an extension of my love of stories. After all, some of the best stories are true ones — tales of heroism and villainy made more incredible by the fact they really happened.
After graduation, I got married and had children. I read to them a lot, and that’s when I discovered the joy and music of children’s books. I simply couldn’t get enough of them. With my two sons in tow, I made endless trips to the library. I read stacks of books. I found myself begging, “Just one more, pleeeeease!” while my boys begged for lights-out and sleep. Then it struck me. Why not write children’s books? It seemed the perfect way to combine all the things I loved: stories, musical language, history, and reading. I couldn’t wait to get started.
But writing children’s books is harder than it looks. For three years I wrote story after story. I sent them to publisher after publisher. And I received rejection letter after rejection letter. Still, I didn’t give up. I kept trying until finally one of my stories was pulled from the slush pile and turned into a book. My career as a children’s author had begun.
For more information visit my website: www.candacefleming.com.
A Few Reviews:
This onomatopoeic romp opens calmly, with a hopeful gardener planting a vegetable patch behind his brownstone house. Bright green leaves sprout from the rich soil. ” `Yum! Yum! Yummy!’ said Mr. McGreeley. `I’ll soon fill my tummy with crisp, fresh veggies.’ ” He doesn’t notice a cottontail trio watching expectantly from the garden wall. “And the sun went down. And the moon came up. And / Tippy-tippy-tippy, Pat!/ Spring-hurdle,/ Dash! Dash! Dash!/ Muncha! Muncha! Muncha!” The brazen “twitch-whiskers” hop and dig their way to a fresh-picked salad, and Mr. McGreeley awakens to a row of gnawed stems. Karas (Saving Sweetness), who works in chalky gray pencil with brick-red, kale-green and creamy-yellow gouache, pictures the bunnies waiting patiently as the incensed Mr. McGreeley builds a wire fence, a moat and an enormous cinderblock tower with searchlights. Fleming (Gabriella’s Song) demonstrates an ear for language as the suburban farmer battles his furry foes, night after night. The ritual culminates in the “gotcha” finale, in which the rabbits seem defeated, only to burst into view with a vigorous repeat of the title. Fleming and Karas demonstrate great comic timing in this high-spirited tale of one-upmanship. – Publisher’s Weekly
“After years of dreaming of planting a garden, Mr. McGreely finally takes hoe and watering can in hand and makes his dream come true. Unfortunately for him (but luckily for readers), this is not the happily-ever-after part of the story. Late one night, three hungry bunnies appear: “Tippy-tippy-tippy, Pat! Muncha! Muncha! Muncha!” The next morning finds our farmer gnashing his teeth over the gnawed sprouts. So he builds a small wire fence. That night… “Muncha! Muncha! Muncha!” So Mr. McGreely builds a tall wooden wall. You get the idea. Young readers will hang on every word until they find out, once and for all, who will win the battle of the broccoli. Packed with repetitive and onomatopoeic phrases, Candace Fleming’s tale of man against nature will keep kids giggling–it may even inspire them to chomp on a few carrots themselves! G. Brian Karas’s lively illustrations in gouache and pencil are full of visual wit, as the audacious “twitch-whiskers” patiently watch Mr. McGreely at his seemingly futile endeavors.” –Emilie Coulter
“I bought this book to read with a little neighbor girl who was having trouble learning to read, and who liked to come visit me. Although I had a good selection of books to read with her, she chose this one over and over again. The story held her interest, with enough complexity to entertain, without being overwhelming for her as a struggling reader. And she loved the way I said “Muncha! Muncha! Muncha!” because of course I hammed that up to keep her amused. 🙂 I was so proud of her the day she finally became comfortable enough with the text that she started reading it to me, rather than having me read it to her. She’s since moved away, but I will always feel all happy when I think of this book helping a little child who was struggling to gain some more confidence in herself as a reader.”