Jennie Liu: Hello. This is Jennie Liu, author of Enly and the Buskin' Blues. I came up with the idea for this story when my son came home from school and told me his Spanish teacher had played her accordion for the class.

My son decided he wanted to use his savings to buy an accordion so he could start busking himself. I suggested he asked his piano teacher where he could purchase a used one, and that's when we learned about the Melodica, a somewhat obscure instrument that's sort of a cross between a harmonica and a piano.

The premise of the story is that Enly really, really wants to go to a music camp with his friend Pinky, but it costs way too much for his mom so he plans on earning the money himself by busking.

Because the idea for Enly and the Buskin' Blues started right from home. I decided to infuse the story with elements that are close to my son and me. I added things we worry about like saving for college, bullies, people getting a little selfish, but also added fun stuff such as music, lottery tickets, the enormous pig in our neighborhood and just a whole lot of hustle to get what you want.

The part of the story that I'm going to read is just when Enly meets another busker named Saxophone Joe, who gives him some advice.

"Listen here," Saxophone Joe said. "It ain't the right time of day now to be making any busking money. Kid like you, I'd say come back in the middle, late afternoon. Find yourself a piece of shade so you don't melt in the sun, sweating and swiping at your forehead looking like you've just run away from home. Literally just run."

As soon as he said that I couldn't help but swipe my face. "And you get yourself a proper box to put out for tips instead of using that flabby cloth case that looks like you left your dirty clothes out on the sidewalk."

He patted his close cropped wooly gray hair and straightened the collar of his polo shirt. "You've seen how I do. I don't go out presenting like a slob. Dress up a little."

I looked down at my saggy nylon shorts and T-shirt. They were kind of grubby. "Might as well take advantage of your kiddy cuteness," Saxophone Joe said.

Kiddy cuteness. My face scrunched up. He looked me up and down. "You are kind of big, but you still got that look more kid, kid-like, than not."

I didn't appreciate that, but then I remembered all that beautiful money in a shoebox and I supposed he knew what he was talking about.