Beverly Cleary

Hello, my name is Beverly Cleary, and I have a secret to share. When I was a little girl, I didn't enjoy reading at all. I was born on April 12th, 1916, in McMinnville, Oregon. My first home was on a farm in a very small town called Yamhill. Life changed when my family moved to the much larger city of Portland. I started first grade there, but the books we were given in class felt dull and disconnected from my life. They were full of characters and situations that felt nothing like my own world. It was right then, as a young student, that I made a promise to myself. I decided that one day, I would be the one to write the books I wished I had—stories that were funny, realistic, and featured kids who were just like me and the friends I played with every day.

My feelings about reading didn't last forever. In third grade, everything changed when I finally discovered books that sparked my imagination. A wonderful and encouraging school librarian noticed my new interest and helped guide my passion for stories. That love of books ended up shaping the course of my entire life. I pursued this interest in college, studying English at the University of California, Berkeley, and I graduated in 1938. My path became even clearer when I decided to become a librarian myself. I earned a degree in library science from the University of Washington in 1939. During my college years, I also met my husband, Clarence Cleary, and we were married in 1940. My very first job was as a children's librarian in Yakima, Washington, and it was there that I would learn a lesson that set my writing career in motion.

In my role as a librarian, I met so many children who felt the exact same way I had as a first-grader. They were frustrated by the lack of books that reflected their own lives and experiences. I will never forget the day a young boy walked up to my desk, looked at me earnestly, and asked a simple but powerful question: 'Where are the books about kids like us?'. His words stayed with me, echoing the thoughts I had so many years before. That moment was the final push I needed to fulfill the promise I had made to myself in elementary school. I sat down at my desk and began to write about a boy named Henry, his scruffy dog Ribsy, and their many adventures on Klickitat Street, a real street from my own childhood neighborhood in Portland. In 1950, my very first book, Henry Huggins, was published.

Within the world of Henry Huggins, there was another character who quickly captured readers' attention: a funny, energetic, and often pesky little girl named Ramona Quimby. She was the younger sister of Henry's friend, Beezus. Ramona wasn't originally intended to be a major character, but she was so full of life and mischief that she seemed to jump right off the page. Readers wrote to me asking for more of her, and I realized that Ramona had her own stories that needed to be told. I went on to write an entire series of books dedicated to Ramona and the Quimby family, exploring all the funny, frustrating, and wonderful moments of growing up. My work on her stories was recognized with Newbery Honors for two books: Ramona and Her Father in 1978 and Ramona Quimby, Age 8 in 1982.

I continued writing for many decades, always with the goal of creating characters and worlds that felt authentic and relatable to young readers. One of my proudest moments came in 1984, when my book Dear Mr. Henshaw won the prestigious Newbery Medal. That story is told through the letters of a young boy named Leigh Botts to his favorite author, allowing him to work through his feelings. Throughout my career, I was fortunate to receive many wonderful forms of recognition. In 1975, I was awarded the Laura Ingalls Wilder Medal for my lasting contributions to children's literature. Later, in the year 2000, the Library of Congress honored me by naming me a 'Living Legend.' But for me, the greatest honor of all was always hearing from children who told me they saw themselves, their families, and their feelings in my stories.

I lived a very long and happy life, all the way to be 104 years old. My greatest wish was always to give children the kinds of books I had desperately wanted to read when I was young. I wanted to show that the lives of ordinary kids—with their everyday worries, funny mistakes, and big feelings—were important enough to be the focus of a book. My hope is that my characters, from the earnest Henry Huggins to the spirited Ramona Quimby, continue to feel like friends who truly understand what it's like to be a kid.