Writers, be your book’s biggest fan

Posted on June 20, 2026 by Julie Stroebel Barichello
Black and white illustration of a crowd of cheering fans

I didn’t win the 2026 Newbery Medal.

That isn’t a shock — it was, in fact, 99.99% expected, with a 0.01% margin left over for hope. What might be a shock is that I submitted The Mountain of Dempsey Molehill for Newbery consideration in the first place.

The American Library Association’s Youth Media Awards are some of the highest honors in children’s literature. Each year, the ALA bestows nationally recognizable awards like the Caldecott Medal, the Coretta Scott King Award, the Printz Award, and the coveted Newbery Medal. The program remains dominated by major publishing houses and is difficult for indie authors to break through.

For the 2026 awards, children’s books published in 2025 were eligible for consideration. The Mountain of Dempsey Molehill was released Nov. 4, 2025, leaving me with about a month to decide if I should send it to the Newbery committee for review. A November publishing date meant I already missed two rounds of Newbery committee members nominating their favorite titles, and the chances of securing a committee nomination in the final December round was slim.

But, as youth basketball coaches love to say, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

So I took the shot.

Choosing to Believe

I gave up setting New Year’s resolutions years ago, because I never managed to stick to them. That puts me among 92% of Americans, according to an October 2023 poll by Forbes Health/One Poll, which found that the average resolution lasts 3.74 months before fizzling out.

However, I was intrigued by the rising trend of New Year’s “theme words,” which individuals use a compass to guide their growth and intentions for the coming year. As 2025 came to a close, I pondered what theme I would want for 2026. Unfortunately, Dec. 31 came and went, and I couldn’t find the right word.

On Jan. 2, I was texting with a friend about The Mountain of Dempsey Molehill being featured in an upcoming episode of a local radio book club. As I recounted my plans and hopes for the book, he replied with one word:

Believe.

And there it was. My theme word for 2026.

As a writer, it’s not unusual to make the vast swing between thinking my book is brilliant and thinking it’s the worst novel to hit the market. There are days I need to take a deep breath, step back, and ask myself: If I were a reader, would I be entertained by this story? Would I walk away saying, “I enjoyed that”?

The answer is yes. So I held to that belief, and I took a leap of faith by submitting it to a handful of industry awards. Because if I enjoy and value my story, there’s a chance others will, too. Maybe even the people on the award committees.

Writers, don’t let the odds get you down

It’s tempting to pin a book’s merit on external validation — awards, reviews, sales, etc. While it’s true those elements are used to calculate success, the formula is trickier than those items alone.

Plenty of worthy books struggle to reach the hands of readers. The median American reads two books per year, according to a 2025 YouGov survey, while the country’s average is eight books per person. With the average person picking up only eight books per year, it’s challenging to make your book one of those eight. Especially when Bowker reports more than 2.5 million titles (traditionally and independently published) flooding the market each year.

As an indie author, my book’s success relies heavily on my marketing efforts and finding ways to put it in front of people. After all, they can’t read it or buy it if they never find it. But I’m competing with more than 130 million books in the world (including new titles and backlists), according to an attempted estimate by Google. It’s easy — and sometimes tempting — to shrug in the face of those odds and say, “Oh well, I can’t compete with that.”

That’s where it matters to believe in my book.

When I read novel I love — such as Patrick Ness’s A Monster Calls — I want to tell everyone about it. I look for the fellow readers in my life whom I think would enjoy it, and I enthuse about it. Often, that enthusiasm is contagious.

I should carry and share a similar enthusiasm about my own books. However, there’s a natural fear of rejection or judgment when it’s my book; those nerves are absent when it’s another writer’s book. But it’s worth pitching my book repeatedly, even if I don’t land that particular sale or win a specific award. The more people I connect with, the better chances I’ll eventually find the right reader or opportunity. For every person who declines to buy a copy of my book, there’s a chance they’ll tell someone else, “You might like this book I saw…”

Fear of rejection has a way of convincing us to stop taking chances. After my friend advised me to have faith in my book, I worried less about odds and likelihoods. Instead, I started focusing on opportunities. I filled out award applications and mailed out copies of The Mountain of Dempsey Molehill. I contacted libraries and classrooms to ask if they’d be interested in presentations about writing for youths or the big impact of small-town politics.

The effort won’t always result in a win. Sometimes authors face multiple losses in a row. We might not land the sale or win the Newbery. But take the chance. Dream big anyway. Don’t let the opportunity pass, even if it’s only 0.01% chance of success.

Believe.

Posted in children's literature, Writing | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

8 memorable cats in children’s literature

Posted on January 19, 2026 by Julie Stroebel Barichello

Cats make great book characters. They have a reputation for being mysterious, aloof, cunning, mischievous, and occasionally irritating. All of those traits lend themselves to compelling, memorable personalities.

Here are eight cats from children’s literature that stand out in my reading and writing history.

Gareth. High on my list of all-time favorite books is Lloyd Alexander’s Time Cat. Gareth has the ability to live nine lives across space and time, and he takes his boy Jason along for the adventure after Jason gets sent to his room. They explore history in Egypt, Rome, Ireland, Japan, and more.

Cheshire Cat. This one is a glaringly obvious choice. What list of fictional cats would be complete without literature’s most vexing grinning feline?

Picky-Picky and Socks. One of my go-to authors as a kid—and still an author I advocate today—is Beverly Cleary. Picky-Picky is the grumpy cat who lives with the Quimby family in the Ramona books. I have a soft spot for cranky cats, and who could forget Picky-Picky with his unusual name? The other famous cat from Cleary’s books is the title character in Socks. The book, told from Socks’ point of view, follows the changes in his home and family dynamics (and his jealousy and desire for attention) when a baby enters their lives.

Pete the Cat. My nieces were toddlers when James Dean’s and Eric Litwin’s Pete the Cat books first hit bookshelves. That’s how my parents’ lovable but annoying barn cat earned the name of Pete. Since Pete the Cat: I Love My White Shoes was released in 2008, dozens of picture books, story books, and I Can Read books have featured the optimistic and cheerful bluish-black cat.

Pete the Barncat. The original cat named Pete from my childhood was Pete the Barncat from John R. Erickson’s Hank the Cowdog series. Pete lives on the same ranch as main character Hank, a cowdog who is the self-appointed “Head of Ranch Security” and thinks his IQ is quite a bit higher than it actually is. Pete and Hank fit the cats vs. dogs trope—Pete can be a petty trickster, and Hank can be a humorous combination of arrogant and dense.

Bad Kitty. Mischief and shenanigans happen everywhere Kitty goes in Nick Bruel’s Bad Kitty books. This humorous series including a mix of picture books and chapter books is fun for kids and entertaining for adults who read aloud to children (or just read it for themselves).

Scrap. Not many readers have met Scrap yet, but he’s a memorable character among my circle of family and friends. Scrap is the angry, half-feral, one-eared cat in The Mountain of Dempsey Molehill. He despises most humans but tolerates the affection of Bandi, the youngest Molehill sibling who has a feral streak of her own. He plays a significant role in two chapters—his mischief is especially prominent in Chapter 9: Scrap Versus the Young Homesteaders Club:

One moment the crowd was peering into the box. The next moment, a hissing, spitting, fur-covered, one-eared cannon ball erupted out of the cardboard, right into Hannah’s lap. […] Flashes of fur and claws barreled between everyone’s legs. The crowd broke, stampeding toward the furniture pushed against the walls. YH members climbed onto the couch and piano and armchairs as if playing The Floor is Lava. Screams filled the living room. Somewhere near the circle of folding chairs I heard Anthony yell, “There’s no way that thing’s a cat! It’s a Tasmanian devil!”

Who are your favorite literary cats? Drop them in the comments below!

Posted in children's literature, Reading | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

6 middle grade books to kick off 2026

Posted on January 3, 2026 by Julie Stroebel Barichello

Happy 2026!

With the start of a new year, people turn their focus to resolutions, self-improvement, and positive change in the world around them. Those concepts aren’t exclusive to adults, and they also aren’t exclusive to January. Here are six books for middle schoolers’ 2026 reading list that highlight youths and families striving to change their selves and/or communities for the better.

Hoot by Carl Hiaasen: This 2003 Newbery Honor book follows main character Roy as he adapts to living in a new state and attending a new school in Florida. He befriends a rebellious young vandal who is trying to stop a restaurant chain from building a new location at a site where endangered owls have their nest. Roy and his fellow seventh-graders join the crusade to save the owls.

A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Park: A young Sudanese boy named Salva is displaced during a civil war and flees with a group of other people seeking refuge. He leads the group on their journey across Sudan, Ethiopia, Kenya, and deserts, until he is eventually is brought to the United States as a refugee. Meanwhile, a young Sudanese girl named Nya has to walk miles each day to collect water for her community and carry the water home. After years of performing the difficult task, she learns that a well is being dug in her town that will offer fresh, clean water close to home, and a school is being built. It turns out Salva returned to his home country to help build infrastructure and facilities to improve their lives.

Front Desk by Kelly Yang: Mia Tang and her family are Chinese immigrants who begin a new life in California. They live and work at the Calivista Motel, where they secretly allow other immigrant families to stay for free. When Mr. Yao, the owner of the Calivista, decides to sell it, Mia’s family and friends work toward buying the motel so they can preserve the home and community they’ve built together. In addition to themes of building a stronger and supportive community, this book tackles larger social themes of immigration, poverty, and racism.

The Mountain of Dempsey Molehill by Julie Stroebel Barichello: Twelve-year-old Dempsey Molehill lives in Pickettstown, Illinois, where a member of the Picketts family has always served as mayor. When Mayor Jim Picketts tries to enact an overbearing “property uniformity” law to stop a man from painting his house green, Dempey’s dad decides to run for mayor in an effort to unseat Mayor Jim and allow the residents of Pickettstown to express themselves freely. What follows is a year of divisive small-town politics casting a spotlight on Dempsey and his four siblings, who have an unfortunate tendency to cause mischief despite their best intentions. But even the most chaotic of circumstances can lead to positive change.

The Umbrella House by Colleen Nelson: Roxy Markowski plans to be a journalist someday, and she’s already training herself by making YouTube videos documenting life in East Village of New York City. The life she knows in East Village is under threat when a real estate mogul plans to buy Umbrella House, the apartment building where she lives. When a media outlet hosts a Young Voices video competition, Roxy puts her video experience and journalism aspirations to work by creating an immersive entry about the people, community, and history of Umbrella House.

The First Rule of Punk by Celia C. Pérez: When Malú enrolls in a new school in Chicago, it’s a rocky start that puts her in opposition of the most popular girl and the school principal. Her punk rock style and attitude make her a misfit, but instead of shrinking herself to conform, she collects a band of fellow misfits to create an actual band. Together with her newfound kindred spirits, she stands up to the school administration to express—and be—herself. Because that’s the first rule of punk: Be yourself.

Posted in Reading | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Three years after Hocus Pocus 2 was released, I’m ready to talk about it

Posted on October 23, 2025 by Julie Stroebel Barichello

I was a Halloween kid.

I grew up in the ’90s and early 2000s. As soon as the calendar turned to August, I switched into Halloween mode. I coveted JC Penney’s seasonal catalog that included a section of costumes. Each year, I would flip through the pages and debate what I wanted to be. Inevitably, I picked the same costume I already had in the closet: a witch.

I recycled that costume multiple years in a row. It was a tattered purple, orange, and black dress with a pointy black hat. It was a generic witch outfit off a rack at Walmart or Kmart, but I imagined myself as Sarah from Hocus Pocus, luring unsuspecting masses with an enchanted song.

Back then, I thought my obsession with Hocus Pocus was a singular, exclusive anomaly. I watched it repeatedly for a quarter of the year—from August 1 through October 31, I would retrieve it from our towering shelf of VHS cassettes and slide it reverently into the VCR. No one seemed to love it as much as I did.

That changed about fifteen years ago. Nostalgia is a powerful force, and suddenly the 1993 movie about the wacky Sanderson sisters terrorizing kids and teens achieved cult classic status. Every millennial and a healthy dose of Gen Xers seemed to love the movie as much I did. Sales of the DVD increased. Its streaming numbers climbed. Merchandise exploded in the stores—T-shirts, mugs, stickers, magnets, plushies, knick knacks. It became a staple of Halloween outings for all ages; a few years ago, Ottawa, Illinois, closed a block of Jackson Street and set up an outdoor screen for people to watch for free. My sister and I were there in our lawn chairs.

For years, rumors circulated of a Hocus Pocus sequel. My initial hopes were dashed when it turned out to be a hoax—a fan created a movie poster and it rippled out across social media. The rumor resurfaced every couple of years until I got suspicious at every whisper of a sequel.

When Disney officially announced Hocus Pocus 2, my skepticism turned to elation.

The new movie hit Disney+ on September 30, 2022. In honor of the premiere, I scheduled the afternoon off work, bought myself a theater-sized box of candy, and settled in to watch it. In the opening minutes, I loved it. For starters, there was the structural parallel to the 1993 version by opening in 1600s Salem, during the Sanderson sisters’ original lifetime. And I liked the new modern trio of Becca, Izzy, and Cassie. I also liked their subplot—in the 1993 version, Max had to navigate being the new kid and a big brother; in this 2022 version, Becca is navigating the changing dynamics of her friend group as they get older.

But then, it started to fall flat. Specifically with the scene when the Sanderson sisters return to the 21st century. The movie became too self-aware when the sisters immediately launched into a song and dance routine, like they did during the iconic “I Put a Spell on You” scene. Izzy asked, “Who are they performing for?” and then got startled when one of the sisters appeared shouting, “You!” (the way you’d expect a ghost to pop out and shout “Boo!”). That their performance was acknowledged as weird even within the movie’s universe made it harder for me to appreciate the gag. I worried the entire film was going to rely on references to the original.

After the credits started rolling, I turned it off, and that was that. I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t love it the way I had hoped. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure I liked it. I just felt a vague disappointment.

To be fair, there were forces at work that would be challenging for a filmmaker to overcome. The first being nostalgia—it’s hard to compete with a long-rooted, beloved piece of media from childhood. A film written in the 2020s isn’t going to be the same as its predecessor written in the 1990s, no matter how much it tries to honor its source material. It’s going to resonate on a different frequency. As it should—it’s a family movie geared heavily toward kids today. It needs to be relatable to them, and current youths are going to relate differently to media than my peers when we were their age. Moreover, as an adult, it’s hard to fall in love with a children’s movie with the same devotion I had in childhood. I’m viewing the story through a different lens now. I’m not internalizing it and imagining myself as part of it like I did back then.

But lately I started to ask myself: Was Hocus Pocus 2 really as disappointing as I remembered it? I never rewatched it after that first screening. So three years later, I decided to give it another try—and I discovered my initial reaction might have been too hasty. It’s still no match for the original, but I found a pretty even list of good and bad in the new version.

What didn’t work for me [SPOILERS AHEAD]:

  • The Sanderson sisters breaking out in song with “The Witches Are Back” when they return to Salem. (They perform the song in the credits, too—this was the better fit for it.)
  • The conclusion: The first time I saw it, I didn’t like Winifred’s vulnerability, sudden praises for her sisters, and begging for help from Becca, because all of that seemed out of character for her. Upon rewatching, I do think it’s in character for her to praise her sisters as long as they aren’t around to hear it, but I still don’t like that she lost all of her bite in the end. I would’ve rather had her DEMAND that Becca help her.
  • Winifred’s saccharine goodbye to Becca, Izzy, and Cassie when she said, “Thank thee, and how lucky art thou to have each other.” Can’t our wicked witches remain wicked?
  • The background of every scene in the forbidden woods. What was with the ridiculously huge moon in the background that never moved, no matter how many hours had passed? That’s the only setting in the film that felt low-budget and unfinished, hovering in an odd limbo between what we’d see in a stage play and a network TV episode.

What worked for me:

  • The entire opening scene of teenage Sanderson sisters in 1600s Salem
  • Some of the references and themes from the 1993 movie: I’m a big fan of the “17th century women encounter the 21st century” gags, like using automatic doors at Walgreens. And I laughed at their updated modes of transportation—Winifred had a broom in both movies, but Sarah upgraded from mop to Swiffer Wet Jet, and Mary upgraded from a vacuum cleaner to Roombas. Then there was the small bit where they get freaked out by an Alexa.
  • I love Book, and I especially love that Book has more character and personality
  • The Sanderson sisters costume contest scene: This is the perfect nod to the “I Put a Spell On You” scene in the 1993 version. It’s a fun routine and fits better into the narrative of the story. I think “The Witches Are Back” at the beginning of the movie stole a little of this scene’s thunder, but it’s still fun, and I enjoyed the choreographed horde of enchanted people marching to find the mayor.
  • The theme of sisterhood among friends and about finding power in each other.
  • BONUS: The moment when Gilbert is talking about a virgin lighting the Black Flame Candle and a little kid in the crowd asks, “What’s a virgin?” made me laugh. I have to believe Disney inserted that because so many little kids probably asked the same question of their parents after the first Hocus Pocus. (Watching it with my older sisters at seven years old, I asked them the same question, and they said, “Go ask mom.”)

All in all, I enjoyed it on the second viewing. And I’ll probably watch it again someday.

(Just not as much as I watched Hocus Pocus as a kid.)

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Book Giveaway! Request an ARC of The Mountain of Dempsey Molehill

Posted on July 27, 2025 by Julie Stroebel Barichello

We’re a little over three months away from the release of The Mountain of Dempsey Molehill. That means it’s time to give away advanced reader copies!

I’m distributing free digital ARCs (available in epub or PDF) in exchange for honest reviews before the book’s Tuesday, Nov. 4, release. To request a copy, fill out the form linked here.

Molehill starts with M. Mischief starts with Molehills.
Dempsey Molehill and his siblings—practically-a-grownup Brom, responsible Tilly, pesky little brother Penn, and wild child Bandi—don’t mean to cause mischief. But somehow, they always find themselves smack dab in the middle of it. When Dempsey’s dad decides to run for mayor of Pickettstown, the five Molehill kids try to be on their best behavior. Unfortunately for Dempsey and his siblings, their “best behavior” includes luring bullies in muddy mayhem, casting Halloween curses, exploding appliances, and terrorizing classmates with Scrap the one-eared cat. Will their antics cost their dad the election? Or can the family band together to put the best Molehill foot forward? The Mountain of Dempsey Molehill is a humorous middle grade novel about life in rural Illinois, small-town politics, and growing up in a big, rowdy family.

Posted in children's literature | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment