Now what?

Aruthur Rackham's illustration from GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS from the Project Gutenberg archives.

Aruthur Rackham’s illustration from GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS from the Project Gutenberg archives.

So, you’ve subjected your manuscript to writers’ conference reviews.

  • Papa Editor says your manuscript is too soft/lame/dull.
  • Mama Agent says it is too hard/scary/implausible.
  • And your Baby Peer Group says it is just right, except for a few hundred nagging flaws.

Now what?

  • Sleep until noon.
  • Eat bon-bons.
  • Complain on Facebook that editors, agents, and other writers don’t know their succotash from Shinola.

Just kidding!

Post manuscript review steps

1. Detach

  • Know that your reason for living is not dependent on those 600/9000/48,000 words.
  • To avoid burn out and increase objectivity, let the project rest in a drawer for two weeks or more.
  • Start another project. Many successful authors juggle several manuscripts at once. Epiphanies often occur while focusing on something else.

2. Look for middle ground

Note opposing revision suggestions. You can’t incorporate both, so see if the middle ground makes sense.

For instance, one manuscript reviewer advised that I intensify a storm scene to make it scarier. The next suggested that volatile weather may be too scary for children.

Because of favorable input received earlier from a test group, I plan to meet in the middle and leave the storm as is. If I didn’t feel confident and couldn’t decide which advice was best, I would save my original manuscript, rename and rewrite it  the two suggested ways, and select the best.

Writing exercises are never wasted.

3. Note common threads

Listen and check your notes for common threads of advice. This indicates a weak point. A common thread regarding my aforementioned manuscript is a preference for a supporting character over the protagonist.

To improve the manuscript according to this feedback, I can:

  • change my protagonist to make him/her stand out.
  • advance the supporting character to the rank of protagonist, knowing this may change the genre, theme, and story.
  • create an entirely new protagonist.

What critique advice have you heard more than once?

4. Note common sense

An editor noticed a scene where I had gotten sidetracked. I tend to be a bit attention deficit. SQUIRREL! To compensate for the shortcomings in my personality, I plan to change my writing process. It’s dangerous for someone like me to just write and hope it takes me to a logical place. ICE CREAM! I will need an outline to keep me on track. Common sense will save me from ending up in an entirely different story and writing ten times more material than I need.

What common sense advice speaks to you?

5. Incorporate the best advice

Save your manuscript under a new name and incorporate the common thread and common sense advice. If others, especially the professionals, agree that chapters, phrases, and words do not carry your story forward cut or change them.

You can go back to the original if you don’t like what you get. But I’m guessing you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

6. Test your manuscript

Revise, then test your manuscript with readers of the age group you are targeting. In extreme critique instances, ask your test group to select between the two different revisions and the original. If the pieces are too long, offer three different synopses for comparison.

My manuscript was originally written without a storm. The youngest member of my test group suggested one. Post-revision, the test group says the story is way cooler with a storm and it’s just the right amount of scary.

Trust your target audience. They’re the best indicator of the marketability of your story.

7. Start again (Back to Baby Peer Group, Mama Agent, and Papa Editor)

At the October 2013 Iowa SCBWI conference, a participant received a submission request from a major publishing house director. This friend started her manuscript over a decade ago.

“She’s arrived!” you say?

Not yet. She’ll follow the post-manuscript-review steps, then she’ll submit her manuscript.

I can’t wait to tell you how the story ends.

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.

Candid Critiquers

Today as I prepare for another day of revising and editing, I’m filled with gratitude for my critique groups. They continually save the day by noticing foibles in my work.  At our metro-wide MN Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators meet-up on Tuesday night, one member noticed that I said something nice about an angle worm.

“I hate to be so picky, but earthworms are an invasive species taking over our entire ecosystem.  I’d definitely cut these two sentences that say they are good for the environment.” (I’m paraphrasing.  He expressed more passion and eloquence.)

Who knew?  My dad always told me angle worms were the gardener’s friend, because they aerated the soil.  Thanks to my eco-minded friend — POOF — no earthworm protestors will picket my future book signings. (This is an extremely hopeful post.)

Another writer friend observed that my main character lacked empathy concerning  another character’s speech impediment.  She surmised that her son, who struggles with his speech, would find this offensive.  I envisioned big tears splatting on my book pages from sad children with deflating self-esteems. Thanks to my compassionate, motherly friend — POOF — no tears or hurt feelings. (I hope.)

Another friend suggested that some of the fruits and vegetables harvested in my garden scenes might not be in season at the same time and another advised that the process of deadheading is more for petunias than cucumbers.  POOF — no angry or annoyed gardeners…

These writers’ recommendations lead me to make small changes that make a world of difference. Because of them, my words won’t cause unsuspecting children to cause a catastrophic earthworm invasion — or to languish at gardening or confidence. Considering the awesome responsibility of writing for children, there’s nothing more valuable than candid critique friends — especially when they’re smart.

This meet-up photo from August 2012 shows how our group looks before we break into smaller working groups -- only participation is increasing and we are taking over the Barnes and Noble coffee shop in Edina. Click here for more information: MN SCBWI meet up. We welcome all SCBWI members!

This meet-up photo from August 2012 shows how our group looks before we break into smaller working groups.  Participation has increased.  Soon we’ll outgrow the Barnes and Noble coffee shop in Edina. Click here for more information: MN SCBWI meet-up.  Nonmembers are welcome to come once to discern whether to join SCBWI.

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 Iowa SCBWI Conference-Heather Alexander

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 MN SCBWI Conference-Linda Pratt

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 BIRDShe 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.