Distance

Sometimes we can see more clearly from a distance.

When my daughter was in her early twenties, she handed me a photo of twelve dashing young men. She contemplated dating one of them and asked me to pick “the one”.

“Him?” I pointed.

“No.”

“Him?”

“No.”

“Him?”

“Sigh. No.”

Finally there was only one guy left.

“Never mind.” She snatched the photo and marched to her room.

In hindsight, the young man she picked turned out to be a great catch, but not for my daughter. They just weren’t right for each other. Even in a photograph, my mother’s intuition told me he wasn’t “the one”. Luckily, they never dated. And she found her true love.

This is how it is with my writers’ groups. I can become enamored with weak characters, silly gags, lame story lines, and superfluous sentences, but my writing friends aren’t so blinded by infatuation. From a distance, they can see what’s not right for me and my story.

I wouldn’t trade my critique partners for anything. They will save me from settling for the wrong manuscript.

Now if they could just help me choose broccoli over chocolate.

2013 IA SCBWI Conference-Part II

Louise650

First Pages practice
On the pitcher’s mound: Louise Aamodt

If you’re a children’s book writer, one of the best ways to hone your craft is to attend your regional Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators (SCBWI) conferences. For instance: the 2013 Iowa SCBWI Conference offered a variety of hands-on manuscript development opportunities:

  • Roundtable Peer Critiques
  • First Page Readings
  • Manuscript Reviews

Roundtable Peer Critiques

Conference peer reviews provide fresh, unbiased feedback for our work-in-progress. Also, they widen our circle of writing friends, broaden our view of the world, and challenge us to write at a higher level.

For the peer critiques Iowa SCBWI Assistant Regional Advisor Lisa Morlock divided the manuscripts by genre, then she organized us into groups of four or five. Lisa emailed the manuscripts to each pertaining group member so we could review and print critiques (or bring them in e-form) before the conference.

Accomplished author Sharelle Byars Moranville facilitated my group, which consisted of three other chapter book and middle grade novelists. To top off the great advice we received from one another, she suggested we give all characters a crucible moment;  deliver the empathy-building essence of our protagonists; and strategically plan for pivotal stepping moments at the quarter point, the mid point, and the three-quarter point of our manuscripts before tying it up with that satisfying ending.

Elevator pitch practice Up to bat: Alicia Schwab

Elevator pitch practice
Up to bat: Alicia Schwab

First Page Readings

Michelle Poploff, Vice President and Executive Director of Delacorte Press Books for Young Readers, led “Finding Your Voice”, a session where First Page participants received a wealth of feedback in minutes. Participant names were randomly drawn. They read the first 500 words of their manuscripts. After each reading, attendees in the audience provided anonymous  comments on notecards.

In our motel room the night before, my roommates and I took turns rehearsing and creating one-line elevator pitch synopses.  Not only did the pitch-writing exercise equip all four of us to create more impactful queries; but the extra preparation paid off in the performances. When my roommates names were drawn, they delivered self-assured readings preceded by convincing pitches.

Elise Hylden Up to bat

Elise Parsley up to bat, critiquing the pitch

Manuscript Critiques

Face-to-face manuscript critiques provided the best opportunity to have our most polished, unpublished manuscript critiqued by an editor, agent, or published author. We submitted our manuscripts three to four weeks prior to the conference to allow ample time for our advisor to review and write comments; then we received a ten-minute appointment for them to tell us what worked, what didn’t, and how to improve our work.

Thanks to Joanna Cardenas, Assistant Editor for Viking Children’s Books, for reviewing my manuscript. She devoted an impressive amount of thoughtful consideration, offering suggestions on character development, plot and structure, language and diction, voice, and marketability. Her advice differed substantially from input I had received from Barry Goldblatt, founder of BG Literary, at the 2013 Minnesota Conference. However, their foundational goals remained the same: to increase my protagonist’s likeability, which would increase the appeal of my manuscript, which would increase its chances of being published. I’m grateful to them both.

Next week I’ll share more 2013 IA Conference wisdom from Michelle Poploff; Allison Remcheck, Assistant Literary Agent of Rosemary Stimola Literary Studio; Joanna Cardenas; and Jennifer Black Reinhardt. See you then!

2013 Iowa SCBWI Conference Photos

My Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Siri helpIn the immortal words of Judith Viorst’s Alexander, I had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

While traveling on the busy freeway I asked Siri for directions.  She said, “I do not know ‘get that little cat’.”

When I tried and tried again she consistently answered,  “You’re welcome.”

Determined to be more helpful than Sassy Siri, I vowed to bring cheer to two depressed acquaintances.  So, I mailed them rough  dummies of my  children’s picture book manuscripts, because my depressed, young protagonist makes me laugh.

When I called to see if they got my dummies, one said, “What do you want me to do with these?”

Seeking a more positive review, I called the other. She said, “You should meet my neighbor–she’s a good writer.” Then for the next agonizing hour and a half she recited every one of her neighbor’s poems. By then, I was depressed.

To cheer myself up, I visited my grandkids. One pointed to the back of my knee, “What awe those bwoo wines on you-a wegs, Gwamma?” (Translation: “What are those blue lines on your legs, Gramma?”)

My husband teased, “Connected, they’d make a tattooed map of Argentina.”

Later that evening, I had the auspicious opportunity of having my chapter book manuscript critiqued by a real live published writer. I beamed as I handed her draft #658. Until her face contorted. I checked the table for the sour lemon. Seems she’s averse to first person present tense. She left the table abruptly. I think to go vomit.

On the drive home, I was tempted to pout. But then Charlie Brown, Rodney Dangerfield, and  Alexander from Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day sat on my shoulders and made fun of me. (I must have been delirious. Instead of angels and devils, I got round-headed whiners. ) 

Charles Schulz’s Charlie Brown said he wouldn’t have gotten a cartoon column if Lucy let him kick the ball.

Rodney Dangerfield said he wouldn’t have had a schtick if he had gotten any respect.

And Judith Viorst’s Alexander said his story wouldn’t have been as funny if his teacher loved his invisible castle.

They all told me to embrace awkward and to look for the funny in tattooed maps of Argentina. Then they asked me what I learned from my terrible horrible no good very bad day. I had to pray the Litany of Humility Prayer to see.

#1: Like Charlie Brown, I’ll keep trying–even when success seems improbable. But, where Siri’s concerned, I now bring a hard-copy map in case she takes me to that little cat. And I’m learning to enunciate my words.

#2: I don’t send depressed people my writing. It’d be embarrassing if my manuscript was left on a ledge after a jump. But, I do listen and learn. Like Rodney Dangerfield, I’m ready for the hecklers. In fact, I savor hecklers, because frustration generates the funniest writing material.

#3: I now wear pants (mostly). The South American Department of Tourism is disappointed, but they’ll get over it.

#4: I edited my invisible castle/manuscript rather than succumb to an overwhelming desire to move to Australia (an Alexander reference). I did some research and learned that no one is passionate one way or the other about past tense. But many people have visceral, negative emotions about first person present tense. So, I revised my chapter book manuscript to incorporate the less risky formula. (Because I’m a coward.)

My writers’ group thanked me for this. (Except for one comrade who came back from the Illinois conference declaring that present tense is all the rage. That was after I’d changed my entire 8,341 word manuscript to past tense. He coerced me off the ledge by conceding that I could wait to be adventurous–for when I don’t need critique advice–which will be–um–never.)

#5: Imperfect, insecure protagonists are funnier. My characters are more interesting because of my daily frustrations.

If you got stuck on this blog because Siri won’t give you directions or because you Googled giant Argentina tattoo, you might be having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Celebrate! Then write about it. That’s how Charlie, Rodney, and Alexander got their start.

Blind Date Jitters

Dear AgentI feel like I just mailed a love note. And now I want to crawl into the post office box to get it back.

It’s that time of year again, the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators (SCBWI) conference season in the Midwest. Many of us children’s book writers and illustrators are frantically polishing treasured stories for a manuscript review. In return, we’ll receive feedback to improve our work.

Critique reviews also provide a prime networking opportunity. We try to bring our best to the table in an attempt to knock agents and editors–or experienced critiquers who know agents and editors–off of their feet. Usually, we’ve never met our manuscript reviewer before. We just know he/she hangs out on a pedestal.

The submission process feels awkward, like sending a love letter to a blind date in hopes of compatibility. It’s extremely humbling, yet stocked with hopeful anticipation and romantic notions of finding the one who will find extraordinary worth in us and our work.

Though some writers and illustrators may not admit it, our secret hope is that the agent or editor will say, “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all of my life. Will be my client? I must represent you and only you. Is this seven figure contract enough to seal our bond?”

Luckily I specialize in fiction.

I probably should look into fantasy.

Anyway, for all of you SCBWI Conference-wooers: Don’t lose your nerve! Step away from the post office box. You’re not a delusional stalker–really. (Okay, well some of us are.)

Incidentally, the Minnesota SCBWI Conference will be held October 12-13, followed by the Iowa SCBWI Conference, October 18-20. I’m cheering for some lucky agent/editor to find the one in you.

Cutting Words

Editing is an excruciating process, especially when it involves the extraction of beloved words. For writers, words are our progeny. It’s painful to part with them. Yet, we remove favored words all of the time, as an act of sacrificial love for our manuscripts and mercy for readers everywhere.

Fortunately, I just thought of a way to save my words AND make incomplete manuscripts happy. I opened a home for orphaned words, lines, and scenes today. I’m making excess words available for adoption!

This is my first foundling, cut from my children’s chapter book manuscript:

While Gramma helped Papa catch the tumbling toys, I chased a crazy ping pong ball–ping, ping, ping–until it plopped into the kitty litter–plip. I decided to leave it. Maybe Papa and Gramma would think the cat laid an egg.

Disclaimer: I didn’t say all word orphans were appealing. But I’m holding onto the hope that there’s a manuscript out there that’ll think this is the cutest word baby ever.

Hare Raising Inspiration

Do you suffer from manuscript-aging-angst or this-work-is-too-silly-anxiety?  In 1893, a young woman corresponded with the son of her governess, a boy named Noel.  When she ran out of things to say, she made up a silly story with silly pictures of silly rabbits .  Eight years later (one hundred and eleven years ago), her whimsical  imaginings were published to become one of the most beloved picture books of all time.  This success motivated her to write and illustrate at least 23 other animal tales and 10 more books.  The letter-writer is Beatrix Potter.  Her silly rabbits are Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Peter Rabbit.

It all started with a silly letter with silly pictures about silly rabbits.

Currently, two million Beatrix Potter books are sold every year worldwide.  That’s four books every minute.  People hunger for silly — and no manuscript is too old.  Click the image above. Peter Rabbit fans, writers, and illustrators of all ages will enjoy this charming tribute to Beatrix Potter from CBS Sunday Morning.

Critique session attitude

Sometimes when I have a new manuscript critiqued, I envision myself pushing a boulder up a hill. Making headway depends upon my attitude more than what others say.

If I don’t bring humility, open to revision suggestions, defensiveness can make me let go of the boulder.  It squashes me like Wile E. Coyote and I lift my head only to watch my boulder roll back down the hill.  Smoke trails out my ears as I stomp down to push again — by myself.  Sometimes I even curse the boulder and threaten to leave it — which is a good idea when my attitude is bad.

If I go to a critique session ready to accept the gifts of advice and encouragement, other hands help me push.  It becomes a community project.  Humility begets progress — sometimes inches — sometimes miles — but the boulder keeps moving upward.  The journey grows sweeter and the view looks better when shared with friends.

Whatever boulder you’re pushing — don’t try going it alone.  It’s lonely in the valley — not to mention, exhausting.

Self-pity is the response of pride to suffering. ~ John Piper

2012 SCBWI-MN Conference-David Small & Sarah Stewart

Could there be a cuter couple?

The 2012 Minnesota Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) Conference proved to be an ah-ha event.  The high”lights”, endearing keynote speakers, David Small and Sarah Stewart,  captivated us with their devotion to one another and their genuine interest in the dreams of novices, like me, who looked to them for encouragement.

To launch the conference David bared his soul with a gut-wrenching presentation about his graphic novel,  National Book Award finalist, Stitches. The  bestselling memoir confronts his nightmarish childhood under the care of unstable caretakers unwilling — or perhaps unequipped — to express parental love for him, his brother, or each other. Small called his family a “long conga line of generational dysfunction.”

Why publish such a disturbing piece after a lifetime of success writing and illustrating conventional, light-hearted children’s books?  David’s answer: For his own well-being.  As a middle aged adult he still suffered.  The reoccurring by-product of his youth: Post-traumatic stress disorder and cancer of the thyroid.  To cope, he reflected on his past as his own psychoanalyst and used his art to fill the gaping  hole of neglect in his heart.  He called this process “narrative” or “cartoon medicine”.

See and read Small’s jarring, line-drawn account in his NEW YORK TIMES bestselling novel, STITCHES.

 

 

Favorite David Small 2012 MN SCBWI conference quotes:

  • “Drawing, for me, is like breathing.”
  • “It seemed right, since my life was wordless to make my book as wordless as possible.”
  • “My trash can is a good friend.”
  • “Having a contract is like having a flamethrower on your butt.”
  • “Keep the author and artist as far apart as possible.”
  • “A good book calls up good pictures in everybody’s mind.”

Sarah Stewart wrapped up the eventful day describing the co-creation of The Quiet Place — Sarah, as author, and David, illustrator.  Sarah confessed that she writes to save her life as she knows it — and to keep the demons away.  She recommended that we unplug ourselves and go to that slow, quiet place to meet ourselves.

  • “The writing is a muscle and you have to keep it taut and firm.  Get it very tight — every word a world.”
  • “You know we can change the world one reader — one word at a time.”
  • “I hope you have a partner or a friend who doesn’t think you’re crazy.”
  • “Good criticism is what you already told yourself, but you thought you were going to get away with.”

    Sarah’s beloved Richard Bear

  • “Do you still have something from your childhood? It’s important for you to have something from your youth.”

As a gift to Sarah, David incorporated her beloved childhood companion, Richard Bear, throughout her children’s books.

Hidden in The Quiet Place, you’ll find another loving bonus from David to Sarah: an exquisite fold-out  illustration — an elaborate quiet place for Sarah’s protagonist Isabella —  a colorful contrast from the black and white drawings depicting the starkness of David’s youth.

Can you find Richard Bear?
Sarah Stewart beamed as David opened her book THE QUIET PLACE to reveal his elaborate love note. “David Small gave me a gift of a gatefold,” she said. “Gives me goosebumps, Darling.”

More than one audience member wiped away tears as Sarah expressed her heartfelt thankfulness for having David Small for a spouse.  “I’m still in awe,” Sarah said. “It’s like making magic explode.”

The blessings go both ways.  Sarah seems a seven/seventy-fold gift to David as well — a warm, loving, and sweet recompense for the cold, loveless, bitter life he once lived.

Thanks, David and Sarah, for your candid mentorship and kindness. And, thanks to the MNSCBWI Conference organizers: Quinette Cook, Jessica FreeburgAlicia Schwab, Celia WaldockCatherine Glancy, Kristi Herro and all volunteers for once again producing a positive, memorable  event!

My next post: Wisdom from conference speaker, Agent Linda Pratt of Wernick & Pratt Agency.

Put a fork in it

“Put a fork in it.”  That’s what my well-meaning husband says about my latest manuscript.  I feel like the tortoise in a race — stuck on a treadmill, while he runs laps around me.  Writing well is not for the impatient or faint of heart.  The more I write and revise, the more I thank God for every day I’ve waited to submit my words, every rejection I’ve received, or every one yet to come.  If publication is a last ditch effort toward immortality, it is sheer mercy that some writing will not outlive us.