For those of you who celebrate it, I hope you had a lovely Thanksgiving.
I was very busy finishing off my submission for the 2015 Tomie dePaola Award, which I will post tomorrow after the deadline has past.
Also, today is the last day of my traditional November Editing Special! To find out more or request a quote, please contact me.
As I do each year to celebrate NaNoWriMo and PiBoIdMo, I am offering 15% off editing services contracted by November 30th, 2015.
Includes:
To request a quote, please contact me.
If you’ve written or are writing a picture book, you’re probably quite excited about the final product, about holding that published book in your hands. You’re probably already thinking about the other main component of the book—the illustrations. I have aimed here to include the least you need to know when working with an illustrator and navigating the pre-publishing process.
Perhaps you’ve already envisioned what your final product will look like and you know the kind of illustrations you’re looking for. Or perhaps you’re feeling anxious as you approach this stage and really have no idea what kind of illustrations you’d like.
Firstly, if you are intending to submit your text to a traditional publisher or literary agent (as opposed to publishing the book yourself), you do not need to have your text illustrated first. If your manuscript is acquired by a traditional publisher, they will choose the illustrator and liaise with her/him. Publishers tend to pair first-time authors with well-established illustrators because name-recognition, among other factors, is more likely to result in higher sales. (The same is true for you new illustrators—your first job in traditional publishing is likely to be illustrating the work of an established author.)
Remember, first and foremost, publishing is a business, and a publisher’s goal is to sell as many copies of a book as possible (and if you’re self-publishing, that’s likely your goal, too). A traditional publisher will choose an illustrator whose work and style best complement your text. As the writer, you generally have no power over this decision or what goes in the illustrations, nor will you have contact with the illustrator during the process. Just trust and hang on. Most authors are thrilled with the final product.
Art notes:
When submitting to a traditional publisher, the most you can do to communicate about the art is write a few art notes on your manuscript. If seeking traditional publication, only use art notes when they are absolutely vital for the editor, art director, illustrator, etc. to understand what’s happening in the text. Do not include matters of style, superfluous information, or state what is obvious. For example:
Wrong/no art note needed:
Sally was skipping along the path when she lost her balloon. “Oooops!” she said.
[Art note: Illustration should be in watercolor, and Sally is short with blonde hair and she is skipping along a woodland path, holding a red balloon, but the string slips through her fingers and the balloon floats away.]
Correct/art note probably needed:
Sally skipped happily along the path. “Oooops!” she said.
[Art note: Sally loses her balloon.]
When writing art notes, less is always more.
Engaging an illustrator:
If you are self-publishing, however, you will need to find an illustrator and very likely a book designer, too. I am not going to delve into the potential quagmire that is the world of self-publishing in this post, nor will I be exploring the possible deficits or benefits of taking that path.
I would encourage you to shop around for an actual professional children’s book illustrator, however, rather than choosing a publishing service that offers generic digital illustrations. Please note, many excellent professional children’s book illustrators use digital media, as do I, but the key word here is “generic”—those that are obviously digital with gaudy colors, bold lines of equal thickness throughout, and identical goofy smiles on every face.
Professional children’s book illustrators put many hours of work into creating even the simplest looking of illustrations. A drawing may look easy and fast because it seems to be just a few simple lines and color, but I can pretty much guarantee that the illustrator who created that very simple-looking drawing spent many hours:
A good illustrator doesn’t just lay down a few lines and add some color to create an exuberant puppy or a sad elephant or a believable child character, they breathe life and emotion into them through many attempts.
Also, consider this: before illustrating your book, most illustrators have spent much time and money and effort, blood, sweat, tears, and years to become professionals, just like any other professional. So we come to:
Thing # 1: Never ask an illustrator to work “on spec.” If you are shopping around, for example, and would like a few illustrators to sketch out characters to see whom would be best for your project, expect to compensate them for their time. (Some illustration students and illustrators in the early stages of establishing a portfolio and career may be willing to provide early sketches for free or low-cost in exchange for the experience and the portfolio pieces or to compete, but by no means should you expect to not compensate them for their time at all.)
The same goes for the entire project. You wouldn’t ask your hairdresser to give you a haircut on spec and then only pay if you like it the style. Never offer to have an illustrator illustrate your book because “It’ll be great exposure for you and your work” or for the promise of royalties when the book is published. We’re working on your project for many, many hours right now, and we have bills to pay, too.
Thing #2: Expect to pay a deposit and progress payments. I will discuss the stages of illustration below, and many illustrators like to be paid:
Thing #3: Choose an illustrator who offers you a contract with deadlines both for payment and deliverables. Illustrators, do not work with a client without a contract. This just protects you both.
Thing #4: There shouldn’t be a need to bargain on price. Go into the process with a reasonable understanding of how much it is likely to cost and an appropriate budget. The Graphic Artists Guild Handbook: Pricing and Ethical Guidelines provides the current industry rates for cover and interior book illustration and is used by the majority of illustrators to price their work.
Thing #5: While you are paying the illustrator for the artwork, don’t assume you’ll own the rights to it at the end. While some illustrators will negotiate on this point, in most cases the artist will retain the right to use their artwork in their own portfolios, self-promotion such as print and website, and more. Make sure both parties have a clear understanding of the boundaries and make sure they are written into the contract.
How does the illustration process work?
I’m sure the vast majority of illustrators will agree that we prefer to be presented with a full final text prior to starting the illustration process. That’s how we get a proper sense of the story and its characters.
I once worked with an art director who was confined to giving me a list of bullet points about each scene, instead of giving me the applicable text (let alone the full manuscript) to read. When I insisted on having the text, they gave me the actual scenes I’d be illustrating only, and I didn’t know if had missed depictions of character and setting earlier in the story that I needed to make my images true to the text. (Readers do note those discrepancies and are annoyed by them.) Indeed, I discovered that the “men fighting in hand-to-hand combat” was actually a boy with a knife who’s startled by an old friend and then greets him happily. Since I’d already spent many hours doing research into wrestling poses and drawing two boys engaged in combat, I had to scrap hours of work—on my dime. Frustrating to say the least and totally avoidable.
Thing #6: Give the illustrator access to the final text. Should go without saying, right? (The one caveat at to this is that character design can often begin before the text is finalized.)
You may find you need to revise your text when you work with an illustrator. An experienced illustrator may point out places your text is too long, descriptions that can be cut because the illustrations will do the work, or deeper problems such as a flaw in the narrative arc, or something else.
Thing #7: It’s never too late to work with a professional children’s book editor to help develop your text to the stage where it’s ready to be illustrated—but it’s even better to go through that process before you engage an illustrator. It helps prevent surprises and late changes that cost us time and you money.
Thing #8: Provided it’s respectfully and constructively given, listen to the illustrator’s feedback regarding both the words and your ideas for the illustrations. Don’t think of the illustrator as an employee hired to do your bidding but a professional collaborator with expertise in the field of creating illustrations that pair with other people’s words in a form that is appealing to kids and viable for the industry. On the other hand, you don’t need to work with any arrogant jerks, either, so make sure you’re working with an illustrator with whom you’re able to have a positive working relationship before either of you signs the contract.
The Illustration Process:
Stages of the illustration process are usually:
As you can see, there are multiple stages at which the author can give feedback or request changes. Too many illustrators tell stories of being asked to change artwork or incorporate new ideas once the final artwork is already underway. (It’s like having your hairdresser give you a bright red pixie cut and then deciding you want it styled long, blonde, and flowing: it costs everyone time, money, and stress.)
Thing #9: Take advantage of opportunities to give feedback and request changes, but if you request late changes, be prepared to pay extra. (Illustrators, make sure you have a clause in your contract that covers this contingency.)
A good illustrator will take into account text placement and the overall design of each spread. Most modern picture books have creative text placement, often placing text over parts of the illustration.
As you’re writing and revising your text, try paginating your text along the way, thinking of suspenseful places for page turns. Try to think of each double-page spread as one unit, rather than thinking left page then right page, because kids visually experience a double-page spread as one unit as they’re read to. It’s very rare in modern picture books not to have a mix of both single page illustrations, full double-page illustrations, vignettes, and other variations. Think outside the rigid and boring.
There’s a lot more to successfully illustrating a kids’ book than just being able to draw. An illustrator has to: understand page design, overall book design, and narrative arc; consider Point of View, text placement, and pacing; and a lot more besides. They have to bring a story and its characters to life. Weak illustrations can ruin an otherwise terrific project—I’ve seen it happen over and over. And in such a competitive industry, filled with high-quality traditionally published books and a growing number of self-publishing authors, it’s only good sense to strive for superlative work all round. Give your project the best chances in a very competitive marketplace.
Thing #10: You tend to get what you pay for. Be aware of the standard industry rates going into it and, as my mother has always said, “Don’t spoil the ship for a halfpenny’s worth of tar.” Good illustrations will cost a number of halfpennies, but if something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well, and a professional will provide expertise that may save you time and money in the long run.
Thing #11 (Bonus!): Writing and revising a children’s book, collaborating with an illustrator, and the publishing process itself have their ups and downs, their moments of triumph and their frustrations. But it’s a very wonderful experience. We illustrators love what we do, and we want you to come out of the process with an incredible book. So relax, be inspired, and enjoy the journey!
When people find out I work from home and I'm my own boss, their almost invariable reaction is: “I’d never get anything done.”
My response is: “Sure you would—if you wanted to pay your bills.”
The questioner smiles and nods but then says something along the lines of: “But I’m not that disciplined. I’d sleep in then sit around in pajamas watching TV all day.”
Other questions include: “How do manage your time? How do you stay focused? What does a typical day look like for you? How do you stay sane?” And most popular of all: “As a wife and mother, writer/illustrator/editor, how on earth do you get it all done?” I’m amazed at just how often I receive these questions and with how much longing they’re asked. Many people dream of working from home, or of being a full-time writer, but just have no idea how to make it work for them time, discipline, and sanity-wise.
Whether you’re a freelancer with your own business, a full-time writer or illustrator, or a creative person trying to get your project completed beyond the 9 to 5, staying in focus, on target, and in balance can be very tough, especially when the demands of home life including family, chores, and various distractions are all so close at hand.
So, I’m going to answer these questions and provide some tools in the hope that showing what works for me will help you develop systems, balance, and success in your freelance or creative life. (While these tools work for the freelancer, many also translate well to the writer or illustrator trying to make progress with limited time—I know all too well what that’s like.)
Starting your workday right—setting yourself up for success: First of all, I strongly recommend that you do NOT sleep in or sit around in pajamas all day. Treat your freelance or work-from-home job like any other and rise and prepare in time to get to work on time. (What that time is for you you’ll need to work out based on your natural rhythms and what else goes on in your day. I will talk about that in a moment.)
While I don’t go to work in heels and a pencil skirt, I do walk the dog, bathe, dress, groom, eat a healthy breakfast, and arrive at my desk by 7:30 each day. This routine and attention to self-care and healthy living just set up the right mental attitude, and you’ll feel better about yourself as the day progresses, I guarantee.
Systems: One of the great things about working freelance is the freedom and malleability of one’s day (though many freelancers I know work even longer hours than those who “go” to work). But just as systems are important to a multi-person business or corporation, they are equally important to the freelancer who wants to get anything done and grow a successful business—or get that novel written. I truly believe that for the freelancer, systems are the key to living a productive, healthy, balanced, and successful freelance life.
So where do you even start? I’d begin by mapping a typical day.
Your day, like mine, can probably be divided into distinct sections. Here’s how I divide mine based on when I rise, family needs, other stuff I need to get done, etc. in order to work out my optimum periods for working. (I define “free time” in this case as any time that isn’t taken by the needs of others.)
As you see, I have four distinct periods of “free time,” and Prime Time—my optimum, distraction-free work period—is between 7:30 and 1:30 because I’m an early to bed, early to rise sort of person. Therefore, I schedule all matters that require a “distraction-free” environment within those hours. During Prime Time, my phone is off, I use social media blockers (see below), and I accomplish the bulk of my work.
Take this opportunity to map out the distinct sections of your day and define your Prime Time(s). Try to make sure you have a 7 to 8 hour period (or two blocks half that length), no matter what time of day in which they fall. (Are you an owl, rather than a chicken? I have some freelancer friends who start late and work until 1 or 2 AM, and you may find that is perfect for you, too.)
Mapping your day into distinct time periods for specific purposes will help you stay in balance. It sounds simple, doesn’t it? But when you work from home, your environment is never truly distraction-free. There is always something to be done: chores, errands, phone calls, and so many other distractions (such as family and social media) and all with no boss watching over you, cracking the whip.
So now we know when we can work, how do we stay both on target and in focus?
The List: The first task on my agenda each morning (and the last before I finish for the day) is making The List. Everything I need to achieve that day goes on The List. EVERYTHING (except things I obviously do each day such as bathing and cooking dinner). A typical day's list might include:
Etc.
Once I have a clear idea of what I need to achieve today, I can prioritize and start to chip away at it. The List, as well as providing a clear outline, helps provide accountability—it’s much harder to “forget” or ignore something that’s written on a to-do list in your clear line of sight.
The other benefits of using a list:
A record of what you did on a certain day, which can be helpful to refer to later
I start my list the night before, and I write it in a lined journal (one journal lasts the whole year), but explore what method works for you. The moment I realize I cannot complete a task today, I begin my list for tomorrow.
The list also gives me a feeling of freedom. I know what I have to get done, but no one tells me what order to do it in. It almost becomes like a puzzle, a game of logic and skill I play with myself—how to fit it all in.
Email: It is my policy to answer email rapidly. Partly, that’s the nature of my competitive job—you snooze, you lose that potential client—but it carries through to all other emails as well. First thing each day, I check my inbox, delete what I can, file to specific folders anything I need to keep, and add those that need to be answered to my daily list. Then I answer as many of those emails as I can. An empty inbox is a happy inbox.
Sure, all of this sounds completely obvious, but how many people do you know who aren’t stressed out by an overflowing inbox? It’s simple in practice—if you practice it.
Keeping up with the clerical work: I don’t have a secretary or an accounts department. The moment I receive payment from a client, no matter what I'm doing, I confirm receipt with the client, update my income sheets, and direct the money to where it needs to go (commissions, savings, working account). Don’t wait until tomorrow. Do it now. It’s too easy for such things to snowball otherwise.
Phone calls: If I have phone calls with clients, I schedule them within a two hour period in the morning or after Prime Time. Otherwise, I don’t answer my phone, which the nature of my business allows. The goal is to maximize uninterrupted, low-distraction time.
Staying focused during Prime Time: I use a Pomodoro style timer on my Internet browser called Strict Workflow, though a simple Internet search will provide many other free plugins for your browser. The Pomodoro method dictates 25 minutes of work followed by a 5 minute break.
It’s important to get up and move around during that 5 minutes to give both body and mind a break. Use this time for boiling the kettle, transferring the washing to the dryer, unpacking the dishwasher, talking to your pet, jumping jacks etc.—anything that moves your body and frees your mind a little. You'll be amazed by how many pesky chores you can knock off your list in this time.
Social media: In my industry, social media is very important for network building and info-sharing. It’s also great for eliminating the isolation that can come from working alone. I have a large number of friends in the publishing industry who also work from home, and we enjoy our visits to the “virtual water cooler” throughout the day. But social media can quickly become a terrible time-suck. There are plug-ins like I just mentioned that block the social media and other websites for the amount of time you specify—which is marvelous.
Deadlines: Nothing much to say here except, “Make them and keep them.” Your clients or your creative project will thank you, and you’ll be much happier, too.
Distraction Time: Since my child is home by 2 PM, the energy changes in the afternoon, so I segue to activities I can tackle successfully in short bursts, those that don’t suffer from interruptions. I get a lot of the household chores done during this time, phone calls, more emails, and I also use this time to think about the projects I’m working on—I often have bursts of inspiration about how to solve peoples' narrative issues at this time, for example, so I am frequently back at my desk during this afternoon period, feverishly jotting down notes on how John Doe's narrative arc could be strengthened by this or that or editing ever more pages. I also work on my own creative projects then. It is a much less structured part of my day, but equally productive. What activities can you schedule for your own Distraction Time in order to feel productive and successful? Dividing your workday into Prime Time and Distraction Time will create a much less stressful workday.
Staying motivated: It’s not always easy to stay motivated in any job, but here’s my trick for staying fresh: I like to have several projects underway at any given time. This allows me to segue to something else before I get stale and keeps the deadlines turning over on time without real stress. It also allows my subconscious to solve some of the issues in other projects, without having to force it. Oh, and walking the dog—there’s nothing like a burst of fresh air and a tail wagging in front of you to keep you fresh and happy.
Staying Healthy: Health professionals recommend that we each take 10,000 steps a day in order to stay healthy. For anyone with a sedentary job, this can be quite challenging to achieve, but for the freelancer it is totally doable if you plan accordingly and then take action. There are many pedometer apps to choose from that will keep track of your steps.
If the weather isn’t cooperating and you’re really pressed for time, your Pomodoro timer is your friend. In your 5 minute break, you can add 1000, 2000, or even more steps by walking around the house, walking up and down the steps, running in place, etc. If you’re into using time as effectively as possible in order to maximize your creative downtime, why not use this 5 minute break to do some dishes, put on another load of washing, move your body, and give your mind a break? You’ll be amazed by how many steps you add to your daily regimen and how much you get done. And if you’ve already whittled down the number of chores by the time you get to the end of Prime Time, you’ll find you have more time for your own creative pursuits—or for getting some “real” exercise such as going for a brisk walk or to the gym, etc.
Also, while I’m on the subject of staying healthy as a freelancer, I recommend making ahead a pot of healthy, protein-packed soup or casserole that you only need to heat and eat, and do eat at whatever you specify as lunchtime and snack time each day. It will help you avoid the urge to snack on less healthy items—but it’s even better if you just don’t keep those in your “office.”
Downtime: And in the evening? Any freelancer who wants to be successful has to be flexible enough to answer the occasional evening email; however, family time and downtime are vital. What I do do is start The List for the next day, but otherwise I try to avoid the office.
But for many of us who are trying to get a book written, our “downtime” may be the only time we have to write or to make progress on that project close to our heart.
Use little bits of downtime wisely. As you do the chores, keep a notebook or memo recorder at hand; inspiration often strikes at such times. If it’s takeaway night, offer to go get it and use the wait time to jot down ideas or sketch out new illustrations. And if downtime is the only time you have to work on your creative projects, learn to set boundaries. It’s Ok for you to occasionally request some time to work and shut everyone out.
Balance: My systems will not work for everyone and, clearly, your schedule will differ from mine, but day mapping, a list, and tools such as productivity timers/social media blockers will increase your output, just as remembering to move, eating healthily, and staying connected with friends and family will keep you mentally and physically healthy and far less stressed.
It’s all about balance. Good luck!
Post updated on 11.16.15
This is a new portfolio piece I've just finished. I used this month's SVS 3rd Thursday Critiques prompt:
"As Charly walked deeper into the forest, he heard singing and dancing. He peeked out from behind a huge tree and saw..."
I began with a detailed under-drawing:
And then I colored the piece digitally. I first tried out this (unfinished) daylight scene before switching gears and settling on the night scene:
Which direction do you prefer?
Update: Turns out I won the challenge by SVS and so I was thrilled to receive an online critique of the piece, which can be viewed here, along with critiques of the two other winners' pieces:
I then tweaked my piece, and here is the result. I'm much happier with it now!
After years of editing, teaching writing, working with writers, and learning about the industry as a writer/illustrator, I have a created a list of things I believe new children’s book writers need to know. I also asked some published author and illustrator friends to tell me what they wish they’d known when they began. Following is a compilation of the very least you need to know when you’re starting out. It is by no means an exhaustive list, but it will give you a solid foundation as you begin your journey toward publication.
Be prepared
Always carry a notebook or another way to record your ideas. Always. That incredible idea you have at 3 am that you’re certain you’ll remember in the morning? You won’t. Great ideas and inspiration can strike at any time: in the car, in line at the supermarket, while cleaning your bathroom. Be prepared.
Know your audience—know the genre
The genre “children’s books” is divided into the following basic sub-categories based on the age range of the readership:
If you write a 3000-word picture book or a 120,000-word middle grade novel, expect it to be rejected. Your picture book should be under 1000 words when you submit it; in fact, the industry is tending toward books about half that length or less, currently. A middle grade novel over 60,000 words (75,000 words for fantasy) is going to be treated with serious caution. These word counts aren’t arbitrary, but have been defined by what sells and what works for young readers based on their age, comprehension skills, interests, and attention span. If you’ve written something 3000 words long, consider it may not be a picture book but perhaps a chapter book for slightly older readers—or it may just need editing, development, and revision. Agent Jennifer Laughran has an excellent post about word counts.
Time spent in libraries and bookstores educating yourself about the different sub-genres of children’s books and reading both classic and recently published children’s books is not time wasted. Also, the industry has changed since you were a kid, so don’t rely on the stories you loved as a child for role models. Look at what is being published now.
Think story, not message
Remember when you were a kid and you got a lecture from your parents or a teacher? How did it make you feel? Did it feel great and make you beg for more? Or did you just wish you could get it over with? Compare how you felt when watching your favorite movie or reading your favorite book. Were you immersed and entertained and a little sorry when it was over? That is your job as the writer: to draw the reader in and immerse them in the narrative, not to deliver a lecture. The story should come first, and any message you are trying to convey or teach is best subtly delivered through the narrative, not by heavy-handed didactic lessons, which give a publisher or agent an easy reason to reject your manuscript. Kids should absorb any message or lesson by default, not because they’re having it flapped in their face.
And while I’m on the subject of narrative, a weak narrative arc is one of the biggest reasons manuscripts get rejected. See my blog post on narrative issues.
Learn
One of the things that always surprises me is that newer writers think they should automatically know how to write a publishable story. You wouldn’t expect to win a tennis match the first time you played or give a great haircut or perform brain surgery without acquiring the necessary skills. So why do so many newer writers assume they should already know how to write for kids and feel terrible about negative feedback? We ALL have to travel the learning curve. If we don’t, forget getting (traditionally) published.
Take a course, read books about writing, read blogs about writing, join SCBWI, work with an editor or writing mentor, and above all, read, read, read.
Illustrations
Unless you are an illustrator and hope to have your own illustrations published with your story, you do not need to (and should not) have your manuscript illustrated before you submit it to traditional publishers or literary agents. If your story is acquired by a publisher, the publisher will choose an illustrator whose work complements your own. You have, in the vast majority of cases, no power over this decision, but keep in mind that publishers are very good at knowing what you intend, as well as seeing possibilities for your work that you might not have considered. Publishers tend to pair new writers with established illustrators so books can be marketed on the established party’s previous success in creating books that sell. Publishing is, after all, a business.
Also, you do not need to make suggestions for what should be in the illustrations or about any matters of style, layout, typography, etc.
Of course, if you self-publish, you are in charge of it all. Keep in mind that illustrators will not work only for the promise of royalties somewhere down the track. Most will require a deposit and progress payments along the way. Illustration is a skilled and time-consuming process, and you wouldn’t expect your hairdresser or brain surgeon to provide services for free. Also, there is a difference between a graphic artist and a children’s book illustrator, and children’s book illustration has particular requirements that are best understood by someone who has studied children’s book illustration and knows how picture books work.
See my blog post about working with an illustrator.
Revise
No work by any writer comes out perfect or publishable the first time. A lack of adequate revision is one of the biggest mistakes aspiring authors make, in my opinion. Revise, revise, revise. And then, revise some more.
Join or start a critique group
You need multiple sets of eyes on your work as you develop your work, revise, and then prepare for submission. Family and friends can be a great source of support, but they’re less likely to give accurate, impartial, or even knowledgeable critical feedback. A good critique group is also a source of support and friendships on the up-and-down journey to publication. SCBWI (see next point) can advise you about critique groups in your area.
Become a SCBWI member
TheSociety of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators is an invaluable resource for writers and illustrators alike (whether you seek traditional publication or plan to self-publish). You do not need to be published to join. It’s also a warm, friendly, generous, international community of like-minded people. It’s your tribe.
SCBWI conferences and events are a great source of information, inspiration, industry contacts, invitations to submit manuscripts, and enduring friendships. You can also sign up to have your manuscript or portfolio critiqued by an editor or agent.
Get to know people
“I wish I’d known that sometimes it isn’t enough to be a great writer,” one author friend told me. Imagine the following scenario: there are two equally excellent, highly marketable manuscripts, and an editor is forced to choose between them. Writer A is a complete unknown. The editor has not heard of him, and he has no social media presence. Writer B has become well-known by kid-lit industry folks over the years for her personable, easy-to-get-along with manner, and the editor has had very pleasant interactions with her several times at conferences and kid-lit events. When she critiqued Writer B’s work at a recent conference, Writer B was open to suggestion, easy to work with, and very appreciative of her advice. Turns out they’re even friends on Facebook and from time to time, the editor has chuckled at Writer B’s upbeat, amusing, positive, supportive (of fellow kid-lit folk), book-and-creativity related posts on social media, which bodes well for how she will interact with the buying public and how she will work to market her books. Which writer do you think is more likely to get the deal?
Contests and Awards
One illustrator friend said she wished she’d known about writer and illustrator contests and awards before she’d progressed too far to enter them. SCBWI and its regional chapters offer various contests, awards, and scholarships, and there are other similar opportunities out there for writers. Just make sure that you do a thorough online search for any negative info about scam contests designed only to separate unwary, hopeful writers from their money.
Submissions
This a topic for a blog post of its own, but some basics:
Time
If you’re aiming for traditional publication, be aware that it will take time. Don’t expect that your first manuscript will be on the bookstore shelves in time for Christmas. It just doesn’t work that way. You first have to learn to write for kids—think of it as doing your apprenticeship. Learning takes time. Revising takes time. The submissions process takes time. (I don’t know anyone who’s achieved traditional publication in less than five years, and I know many who have taken longer.) And even if your book is acquired by a publisher, expect two years to pass before you hold your published book in your hands.
Money
Don’t be quick to quit your day job, and don’t expect to make buckets of money when you are finally published. Kid-lit authors almost always supplement their book income by doing school visits, speaking engagements, teaching writing, and editing/mentoring.
The best reason to write for kids and create books is because you love writing for kids and creating books. This path is definitely a journey, not a destination—and a most wonderful journey it is. Remember the 3 P’s: passion, patience, and perseverance. Good luck!
Originally posted on cleverbirdy.blogspot.com on 5.14.15
Copyright © Marlo Garnsworthy
You just can’t quite put your finger on it.
You’ve written and rewritten and revised and tweaked and proofed. You’ve fabulous, well-rounded characters, the language sings, and the hilarious gags only underline the importance and depth of your theme. You had some POV issues, but you’ve fixed those now. It might be something about the pacing, but the story seems to move along all right. It must be something about the beginning… or perhaps it's about the end…
This is common in the picture book manuscripts of less experienced writers, but I’ve seen it many times in unpublished manuscripts by published authors, too: a fundamental weakness in narrative and character arc, an essential flaw of logic that affects pacing and much else. (And you can apply this to stories for older readers, too.)
If you can't put your finger on what’s wrong, it’s quite likely you simply have a problem with your skeleton. The basic narrative/character arc is your story’s skeleton. It is the structure upon which all else sits.
Let’s stretch this analogy to its limit: characters are vital organs, their details and the setting are muscles, and the events within the story are like the tendons to push and pull them. The language and style are the skin, dialogue like clothing. Correct grammar and spelling are like fine jewelry. (Proper formatting is a waft of intoxicating perfume. If it stinks, an editor/agent will want to get away. If it’s pleasing, we may want to get closer.)
But it doesn't matter how fancy the clothes, or how exquisite the jewelry—if the skeleton isn’t strong and symmetrical, the story won’t stand up straight.
Start by asking yourself the following questions:
Strong story skeletons have symmetry. The beginning and end are in balance, the bookends to the middle. One asks a question, and the other answers that question honestly. Other things may well come to light in the quest for the answer, but the beginning tells us what must be answered. The end must comply. But the middle is far from symmetrical; it is a steadily steepening slope toward the climax.
The most common narrative mistakes I see include:
Your story’s beginning should convey who your protagonist is, their desire, and why they want it. If the problem isn’t introduced by about two thirds of the way—or less—down the first page of your properly formatted manuscript, it’s probably running late.
Once you know how your story begins, you’ll have cues to how the story must end. The protagonist must—through their own action—either achieve their desire or have grown beyond it. How that achievement and growth comes about is all the rest of your story—the middle, ever escalating toward the inevitable climax.
And be thoughtful when defining your protagonist's real desire. The protagonist's true desire is usually not something material or concrete, though it may manifest itself that way. The protagonist’s desire for the material is a projection of a much deeper desire or emotional need. The emotional need is the “why” of the desire—why the protagonist really wants whatever they want. It’s the emotional need that must be satisfied in the end, whether or not the material desire is acquired. This is where character growth truly lies. And a strong, symmetrical story skeleton requires growth and change.
If you'd like to read more, please see my 22-page primer on Narrative Structure.
Originally posted on cleverbirdy.blogspot.com on 12.19.13
Years of editing have taught me a great deal about writing, and I’m very grateful for it. But an editor’s path can be a tricky one when it comes to writing her own book. As so many of you who are inclined toward self-editing will know, it’s so easy to get mired in the morass of perfecting each paragraph in chapters one to three, when you really know you should be leaping with abandon though the narrative.
Anne Lamott, in Bird By Bird, Some Instructions on Writing and Life (what’s not to love with a title like that?), speaks of the importance of allowing yourself to write “shitty first drafts”:
Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a shitty first draft. I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won't have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren't even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they're doing it.
Possibly you, like me, have more than one manuscript that has been well and truly stymied before the halfway mark by agonizing over individual scenes (or, more often, sentences) before you have the basic plot down. If one is lucky enough to feel the rush of love that comes with a new project, one should keep going and not fuss it to death a few steps in. There will be time enough for revision and the subtleties of each phrase later on. Plenty of time to fill in the richer details. Loads of time, in fact, as revision should be at least nine tenths of writing a book. (If you love revision and editing, as I do, that’s great news. But if you’re past the honeymoon phase with your project, or if you never really fell in love in the first place, you’d still be well advised to forge ahead and not edit. You’re already on the edge of a soul-sucking quagmire.)
I'm finding it's very freeing to allow yourself to write stuff that sounds awful (rather like this sentence). I’m taking my own advice on this project I started a few weeks ago, and I’m writing mad wonderful garbage. At least, if I were to read it as an editor, I’d think, “Oh dear, we do have quite a bit of work to do here, possibly starting with the basics of sentence construction, but there’s something special about the story.” But I’m not editing; I’m just getting scraps of scenes down. I’m letting characters say what they want to say even if it’s repetitive or nonsensical right now. I’m catching incomplete impressions, jotting unfinished and ridiculous sentences, and I’m ignoring my spellchecker until the end of each writing session. I’m letting the story reveal itself as I forge about it without stopping—and lo and behold, it is.
The only time I’m returning to a paragraph is when something additional or better occurs to me in a flash of inspiration as I pass by it. I must admit there have been a few sentences that I have tweaked, but only—and this is the kicker—ONLY when a better way to say something comes to me as part of this naturally energized process, that is, only within the pure flow of inspiration. If I catch myself starting to fuss, I stop and move away from the paragraph or scene. Among other strategies and even more strategies I’ve discussed before, try simply scrolling through the manuscript or through your notes until something else catches your attention. Turn your focus to another scene altogether, whichever tugs you hardest, and then start writing forward afresh.
Your draft might sound like muck, but you’ll be finding your way across the narrative terrain, though possibly chaotically. Sure, you might arrive muddy, disheveled, feathers askew, but you’ll be creating a map, almost by default, which you can later refine and revise. You’ll know the basic way, relatively quickly, and with MUCH more FUN. It doesn't mean you won’t write some dead-ends on your map along the way, because there will be some, of course.
Move on through that mucky, messy, probably non-linear first draft, before the energy and the will to make the journey flee. Before you lose sight of what you really wanted to write about. Before the maps for possible plot-lines are so thick around you, you cannot see your way past them. Before you're afraid to even try. Don’t get bogged down planning the trip and what you might need along the way, or whether you even know where your story is going. Start somewhere (wherever you are is just fine), and just get on your way. Because it’s extraordinary how you tend to get where you want to go, if you keep your gaze fixed on the horizon, stare less at the stuff by the wayside... and just start writing.
Originally posted on cleverbirdy.blogspot.com on 10.29.13
Copyright © Marlo Garnsworthy
Beginning another new project has been the very last thing on my to-do list. But phrases have been whispering in my mind, repeating and growing in number, as I go about doing other things. While I scramble some eggs or dump out the compost, phrases have been turning into sentences and racing by me, soon sucking along in their wake characters and flashes of scenes. I’ve found myself clutching my notebook at all times (especially between 1 and 4 AM), pencil to page in sudden, unstoppable bursts in order to capture them before they slip away.
This story is the type that comes out all at once, all scattered little pieces blowing about, beginning, middle, and end all right there just waiting to be caught and shuffled into place. It’s a powerful feeling, when a story comes at you in an unbidden whoosh like this. It makes me chuckle out loud as I write, even though it often comes when I’ve been thinking about things that are hard. When I’m in it, I wish writing were always like that; probably, it would be exhausting if it went on too long.
But it is magical, rare, and powerful, and feels somewhat like falling in love. But as in any passionate relationship, one comes to the end of that first rush; the flashes of pure inspiration are starting to hint that they might be slowing just a little. I haven’t hit the wall yet, but experience tells me it’s coming. What seemed pure and beautiful has some warts, and sometimes it’s grumpy or uncooperative in the morning. My mother talks about the “13-Week Rule” in relationships—the thirteenth week being make or break time. I’m closer to thirteen days into this story, and I’m pondering: How do we know whether to commit to further exploring and developing a manuscript? How do we know when to let go?
Sometimes you have to break up with a project, I’m convinced. Over time, some projects become, like some relationships, pedestrian, uninspiring, unsurprising, detrimental to your psyche, and ultimately unworthy of continuing. And sometimes you just grow out of them. I’m sure most of us have a few manuscripts like that in the drawer. But sometimes you’re so connected to a project that your belief in its worth doesn’t alter much over time, even though the project itself may have its ups and downs, even though you must step away from it now and then to get some breathing space.
Have you ever broken up with a project? Did you say goodbye amicably, simply lose interest, or was it a tumultuous separation that left you weeping and gasping? Did you dive straight into another to replace it? Have you gotten back together with a project you thought you’d left behind? Do you juggle several at once? Have you plodded through a literary relationship you dreaded was going nowhere but had invested too much in to drop? Would you rather take the safe route and stick with a project you’re sure to handle easily, or would you dare go out on a limb for the challenge that truly inspires you?
It can be all too easy to retreat when you find yourself in the weeds. Because if you don’t really love the project deeply in some way, you’re making an enormous and somewhat dubious commitment if you decide to marry it despite your ambivalence. So doesn’t making the decision to fully commit to a project come down to how it makes you feel deep down?
I think creating a truly strong manuscript worthy of submission is like having a deep, true love: worth sticking with when things go from pure inspiration to tangled complexity; something you can’t seem to let go of no matter how much easier it would be to do something less challenging; always worth exploring just a little bit longer. And it’s something that won’t let you go in return.
So if you’re brave, you commit to it (as I’ve decided to commit to this story), even though you know it will be pure hard work at times, even when you might not have expected to be writing it, even when you’re not sure how it ends, or even quite what it is. Because, like falling in love, who knows? How often do you experience something mind-blowing? And isn’t that why we’re really doing this?
Recently, a writer asked me to be honest about whether he should continue to pursue writing or not. It’s not the first time I’ve been asked that question. It always catches me very off-guard, but it does make me want to say what follows:
I’m really not the one you should be asking.
It would be the height of arrogance and stupidity for me—or anyone else—to suggest someone not pursue writing. We all start somewhere, and we all have quite a learning curve. Everybody. If we write, it’s because we are writers. And so we must write (or paint or sculpt or garden or whatever) or shrivel up and die a bitter, strangled creative/spiritual death.
But should we ‘pursue’ it…which I assume really means ‘pursue publication’?
When I was a younger, less experienced editor (and probably thought I knew more than I did, as is natural), I worked with a gentleman who was determined to be an author. He was incredibly eager, earnest, and gung-ho, but he just seemed to be starting in a difficult place. His work seemed a bit… well, unpublishable. But he just wanted to keep trying, no matter what the critique.
And so he did.
We kept working together, multiple drafts of first one book and then another, both of us learning much along the way. Beneath the unpublishable veneer of what he was doing, there was something wonderful and inspired and rich in what he thought and felt and cared about. But it was just all coming out in ways that were not working at all. In truth, I didn’t think his chances of ever getting published were very good. I was almost certain he wouldn’t, in fact, even though I wanted it for him. But he loved it and wanted it for himself, and that’s all he saw in front of him (or so it seemed to me). So no matter what, he just kept on.
I don’t know what ups and downs he went through on his private journey as a writer, but I guess they’re the ups and downs we all go through. The self-doubt and the frustration, the elation and late nights. All I saw was his consistent drive, the revising, the eagerness, the upbeat attitude, the desire, the focus, and the pleasant, grateful willingness to listen intently, to learn every single thing he could. When he was ready he let go of ideas he’d tried and which he now understood weren't working. He tried new things that incorporated new knowledge. He was willing and ego-free and hardworking.
And he quickly proved me wrong. He grew. His work became good, then really good (in my humble opinion). It was amazing and wonderful to watch. He soon did what I had not managed to do at that point: he found a publisher who wanted his book, signed the contract, and produced a very saleable story with a lovely heart and appealing vehicle. I’ve never seen a writer with such a short journey to (traditional) publication. (Sure, it took years, but not even close to double digits like most of us.)
He might well have wondered if he’d ever be a published writer. He never discussed that with me. Yet he knew he would, no matter how long or how hard the journey. He was the only one he needed to ask.
Do you use Word’s ‘embedded comments’ feature? It’s a tool I use every day when I am editing, but I also find it extremely handy when I am writing.
I often want to leave a note to myself about a character or a plot idea or some back-story, but not stop to find the place where it fits or break the flow of the section I’m writing. Sometimes it’s a possible rewording I might like for the sentence I’m working on, or just some added info about the scene that I haven’t yet found the right spot for. So being able to quickly throw in an embedded comment with that extra information is a very nifty thing.
Don’t know how to use them? It’s easy:
In Word 2007, select review from the tool bar:
Select the text or place where you’d like to put the embedded comment:
And then select ‘New Comment’ from the toolbar:
And the comment will be inserted on your text, as well as the comment box opening up to the left (or below if you have your options set up that way). Then just type your comment in:
Comments can easily be removed by selecting ‘delete’:
Even if you don’t have this version of Word, the process is pretty much identical once you have located the editing/review functions on your tool bar.
It makes my writing life so much easier, and I hope you will find it helpful, too!
Well, I’m doing it. I’m throwing my two cents worth into the ring labeled “POV.” It’s something I’ve considered blogging about for a long time, as it’s one of the biggest, gangliest, toothiest, hairiest, wartiest, most frequent, and most significant technical issues I come across when I am editing and teaching. Some of what I am going to say is absolutely personal opinion, but it’s a studied personal opinion, developed over years of being a kid and a reader, a lifetime of reading kids’ books, and many years of editing and teaching.
Ok. So. I rarely feel that an omniscient POV works in books for kids. I am personally not a fan of omniscient POV’s in books for kids. (Note that: books for kids. Bold. Italics. Underline. Fiction for adults is another matter entirely.) BUT, there are notable exceptions.
Reading as the kid I used to be (which is partially how I approach all kidlit) and reading as an avid adult reader of kidlit (as I am now), plus reading as an editor (which I get paid to do), I almost invariably feel a greater connection with the protagonist of a story when scenes in which he/she is present are written in either first person or limited third person. I think I’m far from alone in this, and I’m certain this is why you really don’t see omniscient POV’s all that often in kidlit today, even in fantasy.
POV? Huh? Limited whatsit? Ok, let’s back up a bit.
Point of View, POV for short and when scribbled in the margins of manuscripts, is the technical term for describing who is telling the story and what their relation to the story is. This person, if a character in the story, is called the viewpoint character. The only other person it can be is the author. ~ Ursula K. Le Guin, Steering the Craft
First Person: “I” is the viewpoint character. All information comes through “I”’s perspective. We can only know what "I" thinks, feels, sees, hears, etc. We infer what other characters think through what they say, how they behave, and through what “I” thinks about them.
Limited Third Person: “he” or “she” is the view point character and tells the story. Only what they think, feel, perceive etc. is told. We infer what other characters think through what they say, how they behave, and through what “he” or “she” thinks/observes about them.
Tactically, limited third is identical to first person. It has exactly the same essential limitation: that nothing can be seen, known, or told except what the narrator sees, knows, and tells. That limitation concentrates the voice and gives apparent authenticity. ~ Ursula K. Le Guin, Steering the Craft
Omniscient: Numerous viewpoint characters. Writer can tell us what anyone is thinking/feeling and interpret that behavior. Sometimes narrator has a strong voice.
Sometimes the omniscient narrator has a strong voice… in fact, unless the narrator has a strong voice, I really don’t feel an omniscient POV works. Yes, that’s my opinion.
In fact, I think POV shifts are fraught with danger and must be done with skill and complete awareness—if at all.
It’s also very easy to slip outside the viewpoint character’s POV without realizing or to hover half-in and half-out—to not be deep enough inside that POV. ALL INFORMATION (unless using omniscient) must come through the viewpoint character’s emotional, physical, cultural, psychological etc. filters. Yep, in my opinion.
I feel that:
When your main character is present, everything should be seen through his or her or its limited third person POV. Or first person, of course. Other POVs are acceptable in scenes when your protagonist is not present, but there should be far less of them.
Why?
To go from protagonist’s POV to those of secondary characters is actually “head-hopping."
We may never manage to fully and completely connect with your protagonist. You may relegate your protagonist (whom the reader expects to know inside and out) to a minor character at times.
POV changes and many characters’ POVs may make an your story unnecessarily frantic or confusing at times. Your young reader may have trouble keeping track.
When you step outside your character and refer to them as the girl for example, that also has the effect of taking us even further outside her POV, away from her experience, as she doesn’t think of herself as “the girl.” She would think of herself (in third person) as “she” or by her name.
As a (young) reader, I don’t want to go right into an antagonists’ POV. I don’t want or need to go into minor character’s POVs, and if I do, I may be confused about their importance to the story.
I want to stay in the head of the protagonist (when he/she’s in the scene), and that’s where my greatest empathy wants to lie. I want that chance to feel empathy for the protagonist, but it takes contact and consistency of POV (when he/she is in the scene) for me to care about him/her. I want to experience the story through the hero, so I can be the hero for a little while.
If you go into the mind of another character when your protagonist is in the scene, you distance me from your protagonist. You don’t give me a chance to see the world, other characters, and the action through your protagonist’s eyes, so I lose that connection with him/her. Just as he/she has to do, I want to be able and should be able to infer what other characters are thinking and feeling by the way they act. If their feelings and thoughts are ambiguous, that forces an even greater empathy with your protagonist, as we are fully immersed in his/her experience—even if his/her experience is one of confusion or lack of full knowledge. We get the chance to be a confused, troubled young person/animal-person/alien creature/etc. under great duress.
By extension, I would rather view an antagonist from an external view and make up my own mind about what he/she is thinking and feeling by the way he/she behaves, just as the hero has to do.
As a (young) reader I don’t care what most adults think and I don’t want to be inside their boring grown-up heads. I am interested in the concerns of kids my own age. I don’t care very much about politics or grown-up relationship stuff like that unless it’s all part of an exciting plot, which is presented very clearly to me in a way I can conceptualize through my young perspective, without too much boring background or stuff about the weird, boring stuff adults do, talk, and think about. Again, that means don’t let me inside adult heads. I care more about what kids (especially the protagonist) are thinking and feeling.
In my opinion, this is one of the things that makes Harry Potter so incredibly successful. Rowling (after some interesting POV stuff as she establishes character and voice in the first book) is a master of POV. And she does extraordinary amounts by staying exclusively in Harry’s limited third person POV (except when he is not present in a scene…and that’s quite rare, but she handles the POV change in a separate chapter). We never go into Hermione’s head or Ron’s, but we know what they’re thinking and feeling through Harry’s experience of them. And we especially don’t go into Snape’s or Voldemort’s heads…but that does not limit our understanding or experience of them in any way. It does, in fact, enhance it while keeping the tension between protagonist and antagonist high.
For a very successful example of limited third person with two protagonists, take a look at the first in The 39 Clues series, The Maze of Bones by Rick Riordan. The two characters are a brother and sister and their two POV’s are handled in separate alternating chapters.
If you stay in your protagonist’s POV when he is present in a scene, that means we cannot know what your other characters are thinking or feeling unless they show us by what they say in dialogue, or by what they do physically: facial expressions, movements, reactions etc.
In scenes in which your protagonist is not present, then you might take a more third person omniscient approach, but really I’d aim to avoid what’s called ‘head-hopping,’ even in those scenes, and mainly just show (yes, show, not tell) us how the characters are feeling or what they are thinking by what they say in dialogue and how they act.
Omniscient POVs are VERY tricky to do well, and they’re something you don’t see that often, really. There are some books with omniscient narrators on the market and Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events is a fairly well known example, and then there’s Kate DiCamillo’s brilliant The Tale of Despereaux—at least those are the two which spring readily to my mind. One thing you’ll notice about those books is that the narrator has a very strong and distinctive voice.
If a writer wants to develop an omniscient POV, then they would be (again, in my opinion) advised to develop a stronger narrator’s/storyteller’s voice, but they should be be wary.
Will an added voice detract from the story and style? Is it something that the story doesn’t actually need? Is there already quite enough going on (including a lot of characters and subplot points to keep track of), without needing an additional speaker’s voice into the mix?
I recently posted on my Facebook page an article about head-hopping (http://www.floggingthequill.com/flogging_the_quill/2004/12/an_executive_ed.html) and I expressed my feelings about successful omniscient in children’s fiction, which some very well-known editors and agents immediately went on to share on their pages, agreeing heartily that head-hoping has no place in kidlit. So, as you see, it’s widely felt.
Here are some links about POV in general:
http://blog.nathanbransford.com/2007/07/first-person-or-third-person.html
http://blog.nathanbransford.com/2010/11/five-writing-tips-from-reading-jk.html
Now, I expect a bit of spirited debate about this. What do you think?
This is my cello. See how he sits there against my studio wall, surrounded by More Important Things? Watch how he admonishes me silently from his stand. Look closely, maybe you can see the dust there on his shoulders, the reproach in that lovely costume eye-patch he’s sporting. Yet each time I pass him or glance his way, a small feisty part of me is quite convinced that if I picked him up and played him, something exquisite would pour through me along the bow, into the strings and body, and spill forth singing and sonorous, resonant and ethereal. It will just spring from us almost unbidden, effortlessly, with great passion. The experience will feel transcendent.
But it’s a complex act, playing a cello, and my playing, when I got round to it today, did not sound good.
There are many technical complexities in cello playing, and that’s before you even think about the artistry or the soul of the piece of music. I do know just how tight my bow should be, and I can tune my instrument perfectly. I can pick out an interesting melody and sometimes even hit the right note. I sound almost terrific when I am wearing big headphones and playing along to some *loud* cello music. But my small knowledge is far from enough.
Playing the cello is something I’d really like to do well, but it’s not on my urgent list. I do feel more strongly about it than learning to blow glass or use a pottery wheel or surf and other things I’d quite like to do but could never hope to teach myself. I probably should take some cello lessons and practice every day, and I will when I have the time, money, and desire.
In the meantime playing the cello is really hard and not always fun, in fact. Actually, it’s a lot like writing (c’mon, you knew where I was going with this). However, I can readily laugh off how bad I sound as I drag bow across strings and still happily fantasize about one day being listenable. I know I’m not my screechy cello playing, anymore than I am my excellent scone baking skills or my tragic inability to sew. But that’s hard to do with your writing, isn’t it? If our writing isn’t good, we feel it in our core as some terrible damning exposition of what’s deepest and most wonderful (or wrong) within us. Indeed,if I aspired to be the next Yo Yo Ma, I imagine the way I play the cello would be upsetting.
The thing is, we all understand it takes many lessons, a full understanding of tools, and many years of dedicated daily practice and fine tuning of artistry to become a concert musician—and yet we think we should be accomplished writers the moment we sit down to write, and then again each time we write. And when we fear that’s not happening, we quake at the thought of critiques. We shiver at the thought of sharing, of exposing our work and ourselves. We get really bloody frustrated. We let our writing and passion catch dust.
Does that make any sense at all?
All published writers have a long learning curve before they actually "make it." Everyone’s first attempts and early drafts sound like caterwauling cellos. So practice and play, be happy you’re on your way. One day, you will be a maestro.
The curse will give you ugly spots,
The curse will give you twitches,
The curse will make you quite confused
And give you heaving glitches.
Your words will come out backwards
And you’ll maybe lose the plot.
By then of course it’s much too late,
Diagnosis: Published? Not!
Symptom #1: Ugly spots. Imperfect rhymes are a pox on a rhyming text.
A good rhyming dictionary will help you find the best, most meaningful rhyme, and here’s an excellent online resource. There may be no rhyme for what you want to say, so try saying it differently. Or say something different.
Symptom #2: Twitches: irregular and jerky meter makes one dizzy.
There is perhaps no clearer evidence to an editor that you have the Curse than an irregular, changing and awkward meter. Try reading your text aloud into a recording device. Have someone else read it to you. This will help you define where the problems lie.
Symptom #3: Confusion: Um, are you talking to me?
Many authors who write verse find they have an issue with changing POV (Point of View), feeling compelled to suddenly and inexplicably address the audience directly or change narrators in order to make their lines rhyme. Just as quickly the urge retreats and the author returns to the initial POV, but by then the damage has been done.
Symptom #4: Heaving Glitches: You won’t know whether you’re coming or going.
Structural changes are an enormous problem for the rhymers: for example, changing from rhyming every second line to rhyming every line. Or every third line. And often within the same stanza. Structural changes should be carried out with intent. They should be repeated. They should say something about the narrative, pace, or emotional changes occurring within the story. More on rhyme schemes here.
Symptom #5: Speaking backward: Sayeth to me, what art thou trying to?
Rhymers also must be wary of using words and phrases with either inappropriate or obscure meanings… or back-to-front phrasing… or archaic speech patterns… simply because they rhyme.
Symptom #6: Completely losing the plot: What were you trying to say again? At this point you know that the curse is in an advanced and possibly incurable state.
Diagnosis: Spurned, returned and possibly burned.
But look at it like this. Editors are people, too. They receive many texts. Many of them are in poorly-written verse. They are familiar with the Curse of Verse, well-‘versed’ in its symptoms. And they do not have the time, money, or inclination to affect a cure. And even if yours is good, the editor may simply have had too much exposure to the bug. They may have become immune to anything that even resembles Rhyming Verse.
Prevention and Cure: First, take a deep breath. Don’t be dismayed. You’re not alone. The curse is prevalent and catching, but it is absolutely curable.
You do have something worthwhile to say. You know that a story needs a beginning, middle and end. It is really difficult to write rhyming texts that are consistent in meter, rhyme, style, and that still portray what the writer wants them to portray.
And maybe there’s no reason to write your text in verse. Rhyme lends itself to texts that are humorous or light-hearted in nature or that are designed primarily to entertain. Prose might suit your story better. You may consider re-writing your text in a combination of prose and verse with a rhyming ‘refrain/chorus’ repeated with minor variations. This may free your writing style, allow you to avoid all the other symptoms and retain your character and narrative development.
The best picture books work like a poem (whether they rhyme or not).Owl Moon by Jane Yolen is a great example. Martin Waddle’s Little Bear books show a different, equally successful approach for a younger audience. These each have a certain metre, cadence and lyrical quality and even some rhyming elements through the text. Bursts of rhyme can be used with intent, as does Maurice Sendak inWhere the Wild things Are.
Pick up your pen and just begin again. Just start writing in prose, and don’t stop, you’ll be free.
Recovery: is usually speedy. You’ll feel better. And so will your audience.
As an often-blocked writer and writing teacher, I think a great deal about process and the conditions required for us to write, keep writing, and write well. So much of writing (or perhaps any creative endeavor) is about ignoring, overcoming, or otherwise harnessing one’s basic personality flaws and/or neuroses.
For me, like many writers, it’s a fear of my stuff never being as good as I want it to be that sometimes stops me not long after I’ve begun. But as the inimitable Katherine Paterson said in her keynote address at the SCBWI winter conference a few years ago:
"I knew that if I didn't dare failure, or worse, mediocrity, I would never be a writer at all."
These words will stay with me always. But becoming a writer is not just about daring mediocrity. And it’s not just about hard work.
What it might really all boil down to is permission, the permission we give ourselves to:
At some point in a writing career, the permission of others (agents, publishers, buying audience, etc.) becomes important too, but well before that it’s our own permission that matters. When you’re a person with a career and family responsibilities and all the things a modern person has to deal with, giving oneself permission can be extremely difficult. But really, aren’t we the only ones accountable to ourselves for the choices we make?
So if we don’t give ourselves full permission to be happy, successful writers and to undertake all that journey entails, it’s unlikely we’ll ever get anywhere.
How do you give yourself permission to write/create? How do you deny yourself permission?
Tonight is my last class for this semester's Writing for Children's Books at RISD, and it’s rejection night. That’s right: this is the evening that I bring in my teetering pile of rejection letters and my students look aghast for a little while. A depressing way to end? I don’t think so at all.
They’re going to get rejection letters. Everyone does. The more rejection letters they get, the closer they’ll be to an acceptance. Each one is a necessary step. Each a rite of passage. Each an opportunity to revise and try again. And rejection letters do tend, after a while, to evolve, as I explain in class.
There’s always a student who says, “You actually keep them?!”
Of course I do. I was sifting through the pile this morning and found six “positive” rejections for a picture book I’d shelved some time ago. Now I’m thinking it might be time to get that text out and revise it, take a good hard look after letting it ferment and see what I can do to make it viable. Apparently, there’s something there to work with, which I wouldn’t have considered without the letters.
As I was researching author rejection statistics, I also came across this great little interview with the wonderful Kate diCamillo who apparently was rejected 397 times (sources vary on the number, and I saw as many as 500 times) before she found a home for the 2001 Newbery Honor book Because of Winn Dixie.
So, today I thought I’d share my thoughts on rejection.
Rejection is What You Make It
My first form rejection made me cry. I think. I really don’t remember it that well, though at the time I probably felt I'd never forget the sting. In the seventeen years since then, I’ve had many rejections. Somewhere along the way, "positive rejections" began to outnumber form rejections, and after a time I gathered a few non-rejections—um, I mean "acceptances." Form letter-induced tears have given way to forced laughter, then grim-but-determined smiles, wry sighs, and now more or less indifferent shrugs.
This is par for the course. And it’s a challenging course. It’s not for the faint of heart. It will:
Achieving publication requires:
Glorious and bountiful form rejections:
* Originally posted on cleverbirdy.blogspot.com on 2.25.11
Most writers are quite clear about how to use apostrophes with possessives:
Singular nouns— for most nouns, the possessive is simply made by adding an apostrophe followed by an s:
The mustachioed man’s chickens have laid their eggs.
Plural nouns — except for a few irregular plurals* that don’t end in s, the possessive is made by adding an apostrophe after the s:
Many of his chickens’ eggs are ready to hatch.
* For example: Many mustachioed men’s favorite egg-dish is the humble omelet.
But in my experience, there is a great deal of confusion when it comes to proper nouns, particularly names ending with s, and since many writers—particular those who write fantasy!—tend to choose names that end in s, x, or z, this issue arises frequently when I am editing.
The general rule** is that for (most) proper nouns, and this includes nouns that end in s, z, and x, the possessive still takes an apostrophe followed by an s.
Singular:
Thomas’s toenails
Cortez’s gold fillings
Jimi Hendrix’s hairy knuckles
Karl Marx’s moustache
Robbie Burns’s sideburns
Plural:
The Williamses’ washboard abs (Everyone in that family is an exercise nut!)
The Higganbothams’ horrible halitosis (Mr and Mrs Higganbotham are, sadly, both sufferers. Probably just as well).
Of course with every rule in the English language, there are exceptions happy to confound the unsure. The Chicago Manual of Style (7.18 – 7.22 15th Edition) gives lots of lovely examples including:
For Jesus’ sake but Jesus’s contemporaries
Also: Euripides’ tragedies (“a name of two or more syllables that ends in the eez sound”)
Decartes’ three dreams (“singular words and names ending in an unpronounced s”)
Confused? I suggest you follow the general rule… or you could just use of, such as the dandruff of Dickens and the sneezes of Strauss.
** According The Chicago Manual of Style, the fiction editing standard.
During my run this evening, listening to the rhythm of my sneakers pounding the pavement, and passing a pair of swans sitting still on a perfectly still lake surrounded by autumn foliage, I started to think about rhythm in writing.
Years of editing and writing and reading picture books have instilled in me a keen sensitivity to the rhythm and cadence in the language I read, write, and edit. I think rhythm is important not only in texts for the very young, but in any matter which uses the written word to convey ideas, thoughts, feelings, tone, drama etc. The rhythms and cadence of individual words, phrases, sentences, and paragraphs can have a profound psychological effect on the reader—and yet they do it almost by stealth, with subtlety.
I frequently relate to my writing students the story of a client I once worked with. She had written a picture book text about the plight of an endangered species of eagle. Her language style of choice was (as happens so often in first drafts of picture books from new writers) rhyming verse with a jaunty and galloping meter. This stylistic choice had, as you can probably imagine, the unfortunate effect of taking what was a serious and soulful subject and making it almost comical—which was absolutely opposite to the writer’s intention. And as so often seems to happen when rhyming verse gets out of hand, the narrative went completely off-track…the story quickly became something that didn’t work at all or even quite make sense.
When I pointed out to her that perhaps a galloping meter did not fit the flapping of eagles’ wings, the swooping and soaring, or the serious tone of the subject matter, she rewrote the text in a more lyrical prose style. It was quite extraordinary: it was as if she had been set free and so, too, the eagles in her story. She quickly came back to me with a piece that exactly evoked the soaring of eagles, their swooping, the beat of their wings and so forth in its rhythm and cadence. The entire tone of the piece had changed—and it not only worked now, but had become something of incredible beauty that absolutely achieved what it set out to do. Through attention to rhythm, it had acquired the soul it was seeking.
This is a fairly overt example of the effects of rhythm. Those who study picture books and spend any significant time trying to write one will soon understand the importance of rhythm, become hyper aware of it, start to intuitively incorporate it, play with it, and use it to great effect. Rhythm and cadence are so important in texts for the very young, which are primarily designed to be read aloud.
But, more subtle are the effects of rhythm and cadence in the written word for older readers (including adults). It’s easy to get caught up in plot, character development, and narrative arc in longer works—and these are, of course, essential. But I encourage the writers with whom I work to really think about the sound of language in each sentence they write, and it’s something I pay great attention to in my own work. Each sentence, I believe, should have an appropriate rhythm and a cadence and tone that suit the context and soul of what is being conveyed.
Short, sharp sentences, for example, tend to increase tension, speed up the pace, and add drama. In many cases longer, more fluid sentences, create a calmer and more reflective tone. Of course, there are exceptions to these examples (just as there are almost unlimited ways to use rhythm and cadence). But my point is that rhythm and cadence can have very powerful effects, and writers would do well to pay more attention to them and then milk them for all they’re worth.
The key? Read your work aloud. Your manuscript may not be designed to be read that way, but try it anyway. Listen to how the language sounds. Tweak it until the rhythm and cadence complement and complete what you’re trying to convey. Then have someone read it back to you.
One day, when you’re doing your first live reading of your newly published book, you’ll thank me.
Once, I was involved in an interesting discussion on our regional SCBWI listserv. One member asked a whether a character’s thoughts should be denoted by quotation marks, no quotation marks, or italics.
This is a commonly asked question, and this was part of my short answer:
When I edit, I let the context and target audience dictate quotation marks or no quotation marks. If it's a dialogue heavy text, I use no quotation marks for thoughts. If it's a work for younger kids, then I suggest quotation marks for thoughts. If it's MG or YA, I'd generally go with no quote marks.
The Chicago Manual of Style*, the industry standard for fiction editing, states:
Thought, imagined dialogue, and other interior discourse may be enclosed in quotation marks or not, according to the context or the writer’s preference.
For example:
“My dear friend must fly south for winter,” thought Wordy Bird, “or else he will surely die.”
Or,
We must say goodbye, thought Wordy Bird, but perhaps we will meet again.
Both usages are clear and easily comprehended, are they not?
You’ll note that the Chicago Manual of Style is silent on the use of italics to denote thoughts. But, many people do use italics when they are writing to denote thoughts, and I’m sure we all know published books in which italics are used in this manner.
From Michael Sussman’s fabulous picture book Otto Grows Down (Illus. Scott Magoon, Sterling 2009):
I love this rattle, Otto thought. Why does Anna get to have it?
But then in this book, as in so many picture books, typography is used in exciting ways throughout (which my daughter loves as she gets to read the ‘big words’).
But—and this is the main reason for this post—I think there’s really more to discuss here.
Often, there may be a more seamless way to convey what a character is thinking, without resorting to what may at times be a rather clunky use of internal dialogue and dialogue tags which may tend to toward verbosity such as pondered, considered, speculated, conjectured, and so forth. (Dialogue tags are, of course, a subject for another blog post!)
Let's look at some randomly chosen examples from my bookshelf. From Judy Moody #1 by Megan McDonald, Candlewick Press 2000:
“ROAR!” said Judy. She would have to get used to a new desk and a new classroom. Her new desk would not have an armadillo sticker with her name on it, like her old one last year. Her new classroom would not have a porcupine named Roger.
From Running Out of Time by Margaret Peterson Haddix, Simon & Schuster 1999:
Jessie didn’t think it was fair that she still had to wear Hannah’s old clothes. Jesse was an inch taller. It wasn’t her fault Hannah was fatter. But people in Clifton didn’t care about a girl’s ankle showing a little. She’d heard Ma and the other women say it was a scandalous thing back east, but on the frontier people had other things to worry about.
In each of these examples, it is clear these are the protagonist’s thoughts. When writing in first person and limited third person there’s really no necessity to present thoughts as dialogue.
But, there are times that using unspoken discourse will certainly add weight to the thought and to the moment. Here’s an (italicized!) example from The Maze Runner by James Dashner (Delacorte Press, 2009) which comes at a pivotal moment.
Thomas looked back at his captors, feeling awkward but desperate to ask questions. Captors, he thought. Then, Why did that word pop into my head?
When conveying a character’s thoughts, do consider saving actual interior discourse for those pivotal moments. And whatever you choose—quotation marks, no quotation marks, italics—be consistent throughout the text. If your manuscript is acquired, the publisher will adjust according to what best suits the book and their house style.
* Chicago Manual of Style, 16th Edition, Point 13.41, The University of Chicago Press 2010
Consider the following:
It was dawn. Wordy-Bird began to fly to the window. She looked out at the rising sun and started to sing.
At first glance, it doesn’t really seem like anything is wrong, right? But there is an issue here, which I see in just about every manuscript I edit and sometimes in published books. It’s an issue of clunky writing, which can also become a big deal in manuscripts with blown-out word counts.
The offending phrase? Began to fly. Or its variations: began flying, started flying, started to fly.
Wordy Bird doesn’t just begin to fly to the window, she continues and finishes flying to the window, too, because in the next sentence she is there, looking out at the rising sun. So began to fly is not only unnecessarily wordy and unwieldy, it’s also lacks complete logic. Why not just write:
Wordy-Bird flew to the window.
Not only does that strengthen the sentence and complete the logic, but right there you’ve cut 28% of the words in that sentence. If this is a phrase that's consistently used in a manuscript—and when writers use began to (verb) it’s often very liberally—that can add up to a surprising number of excess and clunky words.
But consider the second sentence:
She looked out at the rising sun and started to sing.
In this context, started to sing works well. We don’t know what happens after she begins to sing, so it is suitable and actually adds weight to her act of singing to greet the dawn.
As you become more aware of it, you’ll find that begin to (verb) and its variations rarely add more than excess words and an undesirable smattering of clunk.