As I’ve been doing recently—and in keeping with the theme of my new picture book, We Match!—I’m setting out again this month to see how quickly a chat with another author of books for young readers can turn up three things that we have in common.

And once again, I’m having those conversations with two authors: Victor Piñeiro (see my separate post) and Deborah Heiligman.

Like before, I’m pairing this round of How Do WE Match? with a book giveaway to subscribers to my monthly Bartography Express newsletter (folks can sign up here).

For my October 2025 drawing, I’m giving away four copies of both Deborah’s new YA nonfiction book, Loudmouth: Emma Goldman vs. America (A Love Story) (Farrar, Straus and Giroux Books for Young Readers), and Victor’s newest middle grade novel.

If you’d like to be one of the winners, by the end of this month either say so in the comments below or contact me directly, and you’ll be in the running. (Subscribers with U.S. mailing addresses only.)

Deborah Heiligman’s books for young adult readers include Vincent and Theo: The Van Gogh Brothers and Charles and Emma: The Darwins’ Leap of Faith. She has also written middle grade books such as Torpedoed: The True Story of the World War II Sinking of “The Children’s Ship” and picture books including The Boy Who Loved Math: The Improbable Life of Paul Erdos, illustrated by LeUyen Pham.

Deborah and I aren’t strangers. I’ve even been to her home, during my 2019 research trip to New York City for Glitter Everywhere! (I found no glitter at Deborah’s place—only great company.) But no matter how well you know someone, you can still learn a lot about them by simply having a conversation and asking questions.

For this conversation, Deborah and I chatted via text message, and I’ve edited our exchanges a bit for readability for those of you wanting to find out… How Do WE Match?

Chris Barton: Deborah, I’m so glad that you and I are playing How Do WE Match?—and looking beyond the things we already know we have in common.

I’ll start with a question that goes way back: What was the first book you remember loving as a kid, and what can you tell me about it?

Deborah Heiligman: Well, Chris, your first question is a hard one for me only because I can’t narrow it down to one. So here, quickly are the three “firsts”:

Debbie and Her Nap, by a “Miss Frances” who had a TV show that I didn’t watch, called The Ding Dong School. Debbie and Her Nap, from what I can tell, was a total propaganda buy on my mother’s part, as it’s about a perfect little girl, who does everything just right, including taking a nap. I was not that little girl. I did love that book, though, and aspired to be perfect, wherein lie all of my problems, clearly.

The second was The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton because—why? I don’t know, but I loved the story of that mighty house who survived all the encroachment, and triumphed.

And the third was a book called The Twins, about Beth and Sue who didn’t want to be mistaken for each other, so got different haircuts. I was growing up as an only child (my siblings were from a first marriage and much older) and I desperately wanted to be a twin.

Chris: If I didn’t know about The Little House, they would take away my Children’s Author license, but I have to say, I’m not familiar with The Twins or Debbie and Her Nap.

The first book I remember loving was definitely not the same sort of how-to-behave propaganda as Miss Frances’ book. It was called A Pickle for a Nickel, and it was about a boy named William who taught the heretofore quiet parrot of his silence-loving neighbor, Mr. Bumble, to loudly repeat the title phrase. At the end, Mr. Bumble gives the parrot to William. What behavior does THAT teach?

Anyway, have you ever heard of that one?

Deborah: I have not heard of that book, but it does sound like a certain kind of book that came around—let’s reward bratty behavior! Or am I getting it wrong? I kind of think my sons would have loved that book!

I can take a better picture of Debbie and Her Nap, but this one is a bit of time capsule. It’s still up on that shelf, next to one of my earliest computers, and my father’s doctor’s bag. But the shelf below it is filled with Vincent Van Gogh books now, and darn it, I gave away all of my Spanish books and of course now I’m trying to learn it again. How can a person ever get rid of a book, I ask you, and yet I must because I need room on my shelves.

Chris: Wait—you’re relearning Spanish? I’m relearning Spanish.

Deborah: A match!

Chris: How did you forget yours in the first place, and how are you going about getting it back?

Deborah: I took Spanish from fourth grade through twelfth grade. My high school teacher, Dr. Diaz, I still think of very fondly, and I so wish I had taken it in college. So if you don’t use it, you lose it, right? I spoke it some when we traveled to Spanish speaking countries, but I’ve really lost most of it.

I live in a neighborhood in New York City in which a lot of people speak Spanish and some of them only Spanish, so I’ve been wanting to re-learn it for a long time. (We have lived here 20 years!) I’ve been using Duolingo but I think I might have to take some classes—or, what I really want to do is barter with someone who needs help with English or writing or something.

I have a little extra incentive because we are going to a wedding in Mexico in April. Our close friends are from there, and their daughter is getting married there, and I would love to be able to speak it better than when we were there six years ago.

What about you? How are you learning it?

Chris: I took just two years of Spanish in high school and then foolishly spent decades forgetting it. And that’s even with me living in Texas, where speaking it is so useful.

I used Duolingo for years but recently walked away from a long streak after the company’s CEO approvingly said on a podcast, in a discussion about AI pushing teachers out of their jobs, “I also don’t think schools are going to go away because you still need childcare.” That just rubbed me the wrong way, but maybe I was also looking for a way out of my Duolingo addiction!

Over the years, I’ve supplemented that with an audio program called Pimsleur and an app called News in Slow Spanish. But now I’m practicing and expanding my Spanish exclusively via an app called Mango that I get the premium version of via my public library.

Like you, though, I crave some in-person learning of Spanish. My original hope for the summer of 2020 was to get into an immersion program, but the pandemic threw that plan off and the timing has never seemed right since then.

And back to your father’s doctor bag… My dad was also a doctor—an optometrist—and I also have something of his on the shelf above where I’m sitting at this moment: a wool hat, which I will model for you now.

Deborah: Wait. So your father was a doctor, too! That’s a pretty good match, yes?

Chris: And I believe our doctor-dads make FOUR ways we match, Deborah. We both have something of our father’s on a shelf nearby, we’re both relearning Spanish, and we each have a favorite book from childhood that the other is unfamiliar with. Four matches instead of three—maybe we’re both overachievers, which would make FIVE!

Deborah: Well of course we are! I love the hat by the way

Chris: Thanks!

***

Remember, those of you with U.S. mailing addresses: If you’d like to win a copy of Deborah’s new YA nonfiction title, Loudmouth: Emma Goldman vs. America (A Love Story), just say so before November 1, 2025, in the comments below or by contacting me directly, and you’ll be a contender. And if you’re not yet a Bartography Express subscriber, I’ll add you to my mailing list so that you’ll be eligible to win!