Category Archives: Reading, Writing, & Reviewing

My One Thing

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Author Sarah Stewart recommends that writers for children cling to one thing from our own childhood for inspiration.  (See her one thing.) In my search for my one thing I finally uncovered a treasure — this tattered, torn, and taped Fun at the Beach book by Gloria Trachtenberg; illustrated by Dagmar Wilson.

MY one thing.

As you can see, it’s old and outdated.  But, that’s okay.  I’m old and outdated.

The Tiny Tales book, copywritten in 1960, made me relieved that books — and their owners — don’t have expiration dates.  And, it made me happy, because I had my one thing from my childhood.  The feel of the little book’s soft pages and even its smell brought me back in time to my mother’s cozy lap, fire crackling in the fireplace, and Pa playing the fiddle.  Oh, wait, my dad didn’t play the fiddle. Okay, the harmonica.  Oh, wait, my dad didn’t play the harmonica. Nevertheless, the book made me happy…

FunattheBeachBanner

We were rebels. Notice: no seat belts or car seats.

…at least until I photographed the book for this blog post.

This book belongs to…BOBBY? I wonder if he wants it back?

I’ll have to contact Ms. Stewart.  Can a book, borrowed from my cousin half a decade ago, count as my one thing?

2012 Iowa SCBWI Conference-Heather Alexander

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In my awkward unpublished stage, still unsure of my children’s book-writing ability, insecurity causes me to contrive misconceptions about agents, editors, publishers — all who seemingly hold my future in the palm of their hands —

  • that they will be stuffy.
  • that they own hard, plastic rulers to whap stupid writer’s knuckles.
  • that they have a secret society where they laugh together about writing endeavors that are off the mark.
  • that they are too busy to care.

Heather Alexander is as nice as she looks.

Heather Alexander, editor of Dial Books for Young Readers, a division of Penguin, dispelled my assumptions with a welcoming smile.  The thorough nature of my manuscript review indicated that she had not only read my manuscript, but she’d devoted plenty of thought and consideration into improving it.

She didn’t know it, but she verified everything  Linda Pratt (also not stuffy, ruler-bearing, etc.) had said the week before — even though they reviewed different manuscripts.  How could I not feel honored?  Two pros cared enough to honestly and constructively help me in my craft. Heather provided  confirmation that I had work to do — and she gave me additional tools to make my work work.

Ms. Alexander further dispelled the “too busy to care” misconception in the next day’s open mic sessions.  If you’ve never participated in one, a writer reads his/her manuscript for a set time.  During the reading the audience jots down comments and critiques.  When others read, I barely find the time to say, “Good job!”, “Loved that squirrel!” or  “You’d be good at voice-overs, too.”

But, among my critiques came a five-line note, signed by Heather, referring back to our review and reinforcing her advice.  She remembered.  That meant a lot to me.

Putting the ball in my court dispelled another misconception — that agents, editors, and publishers hold our future in the palms of their hands.

We hold our future.  They just help us carry it.

Thanks, Heather for the “hut, hut, hike.” It’s up to me to see how far I can run with the ball.

2012 Iowa SCBWI Conference

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Four of us converged in Brooklyn Park, MN, to carpool to Des Moines for the three-day 2012 Iowa Society for Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators (SCBWI) Conference.  On the way home, all four agreed that the eight-hour round trip was worth every mile.

Minnesota party crashers: Randy Holland, me, Cynthia Weishapple, Elise Hylden.

The journey started one year ago when my new writing partner, Cynthia Weishapple, (the stranger who sat by me at the 2011 MN SCBWI Conference), happened upon the web site of Jan Blazanin.

We followed the cyber trail to Jan’s Magical Writing Group friends (Eileen Boggess, Sharelle Byars Moranville, and Rebecca Janni) and vowed we, too, would one day attribute our success to our writers group sisterhood.  Our vision paid off in the spring when Elise Hylden and Kristi Herro joined us. (See My Writing Friendspage.) With four invested in each other’s success, the group is magical, as promised. Like Jan’s group, we hope to inspire other writers, who will inspire other writers…

Iowa inspiration. Magical Writers Group: Jan Blazanin, Eileen Boggess, Rebecca Janni. Not pictured: Sharelle Byars Moranville.

Creatures of the Night.

Yes. We Midwesterners know how to party.

Conference organizers gave us three opportunities to share our work: a Friday night peer review workshop, a Saturday manuscript review, and a Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning open mic session.  They also orchestrated table assignment mixers and a Creatures of the Night Tour of downtown Des Moines.  All could come away with new insights and new friends. No one would come away a stranger.

It seemed fitting that writers conference attendees would gather in Des Moines’ Pappajohn Sculpture Park’s Nomade.  Jaume Plensa, Nomade’s creator, imagined the letters as building blocks for words and ideas, like human cells for the body.

 

 

 

 

Thanks to the Magical Writing Group and 2012 IA SCBWI conference committee members: Connie Heckert, Lisa Morlock, and all conference volunteers.  You shouldn’t have been so nice, because we’ll probably be back again next year.

2012 MN SCBWI Conference-Linda Pratt

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Linda Pratt of Wernick & Pratt Agency

I hugged the computer when I received the official email message that Linda Pratt, agent of Wernick & Pratt Agency, would review my children’s book manuscript at the 2012 MN SCBWI Conference.   Her name had risen to the top of my Agents-I-Think-I-Could-Clique-With List even before she made the list of conference speakers.  Lists like mine should probably give agents the willies.  We unpublished writers keep files on agents — everything we can find on-line and in publications.  Who do they represent?  What books do they like?  What movies?  What do they find funny/inspiring/annoying? TP over or under — soft or strong? (Just in case they come to our house to sign the contract.)

Lo and behold, I found the most comprehensive information about Linda on their Wernick & Pratt Agency Q & A with Linda Pratt web page. Linda’s a woman of my own heart.  She loves LUCY, CHOCOLAT, and Anne Lamott’s  BIRD BY BIRD. She represents fabulous illustrators and authors, like Denise Brunkus and Augusta Scattergood. And, Linda, too, thinks Mr. Darcy of PRIDE & PREJUDICE is — um — not bad.

When we met for the critique, the petite powerhouse impressed me with her warmth.  She inquired about a memoir project I’d mentioned during David Small‘s Q & A session and commiserated about my family’s trials.  Seems Linda and I had some family skeletons in common. Then, when she advised how to develop readers’ empathy, I thought “Linda Pratt knows about empathy.”

During an effective critique, the writer is told what he/she should hear, not necessarily what he/she wants to hear.  Linda gave me an effective critique.  She said, “When I first began reading, I initially thought it was a young chapter book before I noticed the genre designation…”  [This observation would be confirmed by Penguin/Dial Books editor, Heather Alexander, a week later at the Iowa SCBWI Conference (upcoming blog entry).]

The manuscript I’d submitted for review had too many characters, lots of dialog, and even a subplot.  Not a picture book, as I’d designated. Linda corrected me with encouragement.  I’d read about writers who didn’t thoroughly understand children’s book genres on Linda’s Q & A page, but I didn’t recognize myself.  She states clearly: “…if it’s a novel for all ages, or it could be a middle grade or YA, or it’s a picture book for 5-8 year olds, these are signals that you’re not clear on the market for your book, and the work itself is likely ambiguous, as well.…”

Sure, I was disappointed at first that she didn’t jump up and down, gushing,  “This is the best picture book since Where the Wild Things Are.” And, I did have that bad dream about another writer stealing my main character and my thunder while I revised.

The good news?  During her conference presentation, Linda assured us fledgling writers not to give up.  But, revise, revise, revise, before we submit, submit, submit.  Linda initially rejected Augusta Scattergood’s Glory Be.  Augusta revised it, an editor revised it again, and –badda bing, badda boom!

My manuscript review experience? Humbling?

Yes.

Humiliating?

No.

I’d jumped off the diving board prematurely, but without direction I could still be flailing in the wrong end of the pool.

Thanks, Linda!  You’ll be hearing from me again — but not until I revise, revise, and revise.  Then, when I think it’s perfect, I’ll revise some more.

2012 SCBWI-MN Conference-David Small & Sarah Stewart

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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 Freeburg, Alicia Schwab, Celia Waldock, Catherine 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.

Perfectionism-Friend or Foe?

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Ten years ago, a young friend gave me this comic strip from our Sunday newspaper:

Snoopy: “Here’s the world famous writer starting work on his new novel…”
Snoopy types “The”.
Linus: “I don’t know…”
Snoopy types “It”.
Yes, I like this beginning better.

Charles Schulz astutely captured the human/beagle condition of perfectionism.  My friend gave me the comic strip as a form of intervention for my perfectionism disorder.  I only recognized her motives the other night when I heard my husband arrive home from work.  I quickly changed my computer screen, so he wouldn’t see that I editing the same 20-word page I was revising when he left that morning. My reflexes weren’t quite fast enough and I couldn’t make a poker face to save my soul, so I’m sure he caught me.  It didn’t help that my eyebrows hung over my head and “busted” flashed in neon on my forehead as he kissed it.  Now, he probably thinks I have a different computer-related disorder. 

For writers, perfectionism will be the death of our work.  Certainly, we should strive for quality, but the fear of making a mistake can lead to paralysis — or success at completing absolutely nothing. Here are my signs.

  1. I’ve dreamt about writing books all of my life.
  2. I’ve thought about writing books all of my life.
  3. I’ve talked about writing books all of my life.
  4. I started writing a book at age 25.
  5. I stopped writing a book at age 25.
  6. I started writing a book at age 30.
  7. I stopped writing a book at age 30.
  8. I started writing a book at age 35.
  9. I stopped writing a book at age 35.
  10. I started writing a book at age…well, you can see a trend here…

Living with a perfectionist is probably even harder than being one.  My family has heard me talking about my dream for too long.  Now they just sigh, “that’s nice” with that glazed look, like I get when Bertha, the nursing home resident, tells me about her hemorrhoid problems for the 2,749th time.

If you recognize any of these signs in yourself, save this cartoon as a background image on your computer.  The first step to recovery: make a decision, for goodness sake!

So what’ll it be?  “The” or “It”?

A Picture Book Without Pictures

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A picture book without pictures is like the Pips without Gladys Knight:

Click the image to see the YouTube video

For the life of me, I can’t remember whose writer/illustrator blog featured this clever insight — but I concur.  I’m so thankful to have Elise Hylden, writer and illustrator, in our writers’ group.  She continually challenges me to say more with less.  At the 2011 MN SCBWI Conference, Illustrator Dan Santat noted the brilliance of children’s book author, Mac Barnett.

During a break, to uncover the secret of brilliant writing, I purchased Barnett and Santat’s collaboration, Oh No!  Was I surprised to find that the number of words in
Oh No! equals the number of times I use the bathroom in a day.  Yet the book was, as Santat promised, brilliant.

The illustrations that poured out of Barnett’s initial idea make the book.  Obviously, Dan Santat is one of the most brilliant illustrators Mac Barnett has ever met. The book is what it is because Barnett trusted.  He had faith in his illustrator to transform his thoughts into an out-of-this-world adventure.

I don’t have his trust — yet.  Sometimes I leave words, intending that they can be cut later, clutching to them as if to a life vest that holds my vision.  Barnett is more secure.

Barnett doesn’t need a critique group, but I wonder how Oh No! would fare under the scrutiny of the status quo.  I can see the margin scribbles on his manuscript:

       This makes absolutely no sense.

       You might need to explain this for blind kids.

       A giant frog seems a highly illogical choice to solve your protagonist’s dilemma.

       You don’t even tell your protagonist’s name for — wait!  You don’t ever tell your
protagonist’s name! Where is your character development?  Will she capture an audience if we don’t even know her name?

(My daydream has more words than the book.)

Just when I’m wrapping my head around Oh No!, Brian Snelznick comes out with
The Invention of Hugo Cabrat and Wonderstruck — thick, honkin’ books of silence.

Interestingly, these books that speak softly and carry big sticks are by men. My husband would be thrilled by this audibly “quiet”, visually “loud” trend — if he knew about it. Are these works possible for us word-abundant females?

Maybe I need more silence to see and hear clearly.

2012 MN SCBWI Annual Conference

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Compliments of Quinette Cook, Regional Advisor, MN SCBWI:

CRAFTING YOUR MAGIC
2012 MN SCBWI Annual Conference

Saturday, October 13, 2012, 9 a.m. – 5 p.m.
U of M Continuing Education and Conference Center, St. Paul

Early Registration (Postmarked by September 28): $125 member, $150 non-member
Registration After September 28: $150 member, $175 non-member
Portfolio and manuscript reviews will be available again.

Download a registration form.

Click for more information.

Does your writing need a little magic? Does your artwork want for a few
new tricks?

Do you lack focus and wish for a little more hocus-pocus to make your work
come alive?

Then join us for an amazing day that will awe and inspire. You may not be
able to pull rabbits from a hat, but you just might come away with a few
fun ideas, some great information and new friends.

Speaker include (subject to change):
David Small, Illustrator (Stitches, The Gardner, The Quiet Place)
Sarah Stewart, Author (The Gardner, The Quiet Place)
Stephen Shaskan, Author/Illustrator (A Dog Is A Dog)
Linda Pratt (Wernick & Pratt Agency)
Minju Chang (Book Stop Literary Agency
Sara Sargent (HarperCollins)

Room For More

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I love having children in our home. Our children and grandchildren bless us abundantly, but there will always be room in my heart for more.  Therein lies my motivation to author picture books. I can write more children into the world and introduce them to our grandchildren.  I can name, incorporate family traits and idiosyncrasies, and hit the backspace when they get too sassy or unmanageable.

The other morning I awoke to a dream that my husband and I had adopted a little boy.  Before I was coherent I murmured to my husband, who was in the bathroom, out of earshot, “Thank you so much.  I LOVE him.”

Now I realize the boy I’d “adopted” is the protagonist in my latest picture book manuscript.  Like my own kids — the more I nurture him, the more I know and love him.

To add flesh to my picture book characters and story, I’ve made a dummy for each manuscript.  (A dummy is a 32-page mock book to assist in structuring a story.) Since I’m artistically-challenged, I use Microsoft Publisher to incorporate clipart.  This serves me well to create reader-friendly  stories for “test drives” with my grandchildren and others.

Unfortunately, (or fortunately — depending upon the day), there’s no clipart that truly depicts my family – even those adopted in my dreams.  Ironically, the clipart protagonist I chose (from iclipart.com) has red hair.  No one in our immediate family has red hair. Perhaps I chose a red-head because I didn’t want anyone to recognize who he might be in real life.  Or, maybe I’m subconsiously fashioning him after a young Napolean Dynamite NapoleonDynamiteor my red-headed cousin that I haven’t seen since childhood: Bobby Bill.  Hmmm…come to think of it…

Just yesterday I tried changing the color of my protagonist’s skin and hair because I thought potential agents might be looking for a more exotic approach.  Then I realized how silly that was.  When the “real” illustrator gets ahold of my stories, the characters will look exactly as they are meant to look.  It’s like giving birth.  Initially, I won’t know who’ll come out, but I’ll trust the one/One fashioning them for life in the world.  After all, I already love my “children” before I behold their faces, because I’ve already held them in my heart.

Sometimes a character is really mini me (an older, female Napoleon Dynamite). One manuscript is about terminal tardiness.  The story line came to me after pulling on two locked doors minutes after closing time.  First, I stood at the post office door with a time-sensitive document, then at the optical office across town with old, worn contacts in my eyes.  All of the fruitless running made me late for a dinner date with my husband. I hated the feeling of disappointing him with my carelessness.

Interestingly, our daughter thinks the story’s about her brother, our oldest son.  (Sorry son – it’s in the genes.)

Our granddaughters point at the characters in a story and argue, “I’m her.”

“No, I’m her!”

“NO, I’M HER!

“How ‘bout all of us be her?”

It’s fun to see the character(s) they most identify with – and to learn why. (Usually it’s whoever’s wearing pink.)

I’m excited by the opportunity to create new possibilities, relive lessons learned, investigate ones not learned, and ensure happy endings where they’re missing.  The best thing about writing children’s books?  The children we create can stay children forever.  And, they can live on — long after we’re gone — so our children’s children can enjoy them, too.

Put a fork in it

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“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.