December 03, 2007

Keeping the Faith

You can tell I've gotten caught up on my blogging, reporting about my latest (and last) trip of 2007. Even though blogging is a form of writing, it does distract from the work at hand: a much-struggled over novel.

There was nothing for me to do except clear my calendar for the next few weeks, apply a liberal dose of bum glue and stick myself in my writing chair. I knew there was an important reason for telling the story I've been working on but it resisted any of my efforts to get it whipped into shape. Last week, I spent every single day like a modern day Jacob, wrestling with words. And I produced thousands, one or two of which aren't bad.

But I still didn't know exactly where I was headed. I recalled the words that had inspired me so while writing Hattie, words shared by YA author Randy Powell: "You've got to write through the bad stuff." I forced myself to stay in my chair and plunk away, even when I could hear the junk drawer calling me to come reorganize it.

Last night, my sheer stubbornness paid off. Though it kept me awake much of the night, I finally figured out what I couldn't see before. I had the hook, the theme, the raison d'etre of my story. It was the classic example of what Picasso and others have said: "Inspiration only finds you when you're working."

Maybe my epiphany will help you. If you are stuck, dedicate the next few weeks to writing away, no matter what. This sounds trite but keep the faith. There is a reason you've been led to write a particular story. Honor that impulse with the hard work needed to bring the story to life.

Then, you can go clean out the junk drawer.

Posted by kirby at 10:51 AM | Comments (1)

June 10, 2007

"You've Got to Have Friends"

We quibble about exactly when we all met, but we do agree that it was Tricia Gardella who brought us all together. She cobbled together a group of writers who'd taken classes from Jane Yolen at Centrum and invited us all to stay at Ann Paul's house one August, before the annual SCBWI conference in Los Angeles. Seven of us stuck and called ourselves the Write Sisters and for the last nearly 20 years we've gathered at various locations (mostly Ann's!) to eat junk food, read manuscripts and walk.

Just a week or so ago we were together again. Not all of us: sisters Dian Curtis Regan and Vivian Sathre couldn't get away from their schedules. But they were there in spirit, that's for sure. Our den mother, Tricia, tore herself away from her 9000 enterprises, including an ice cream shop in Jamestown, CA and a kitchen store in Sonora.

These busy wonderful women managed to cook up the surprise of a lifetime for me. Through a complicated series of steps, they contacted Jon Barkat to obtain the original image of the cover of Hattie Big Sky and had it framed to present to me. Not only that, they'd circulated a card so that Vivian, Dian and even Jon could participate, even though they couldn't be in L.A.

Of course, there were tears. Mostly mine. My heart was so full, what else could I do? These are women who have been there for me since I read my first wretched manuscript aloud all those years ago. They are women who, no matter what has been going on in their personal or professional lives, have dropped everything to help me get a story just right. Or simply listened when things were tough.

This is the part of writing that is rarely addressed in craft books: the family that is created as we create character, plot and story. It's the part of our writing that never gets blurbed or starred reviews but it's the part we writers couldn't live without.

My tip for today: open your heart to your own writing family.

Perhaps you can make it without one.

But why on earth would you want to?

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May 28, 2007

Hope Wears Feathers

I was in Los Angeles for a week for a (nearly) annual critique session with my beloved Write Sisters -- at least, most of them. As soon as I finish my laundry, I'll post a photo of me with Tricia Gardella, Helen Ketteman, Mary Nethery, Ann Whitford Paul and the wonderful hooray-for-the-Newbery-Honor gift from all my Sisters (Dian Curtis Regan and Vivian Sathre couldn't be with us). How lucky can I be to have such good friends/sisters who are also brilliant writers?

While I was gone, "it" happened. Four perfect little eggs cracked open to reveal four precious chickadee chicks. Neil kept a close eye on them for me while I was away, carefully watering the edges of the fuschia basket to avoid getting the nest damp. Now, four noisy little mouths keep their mama (and daddy?) hopping. We spent the whole evening last night watching the feathery comings and goings. Before we know it, those babies will be ready to fly.

This whole situation is the perfect metaphor for writing. While we are working on one thing, something amazing springs to life somewhere else -- perhaps in a new scene, a new chapter or a new book. I love the way our minds, distracted by the plot problem in chapter seven, suddenly hatch new life for the opening or the ending of our latest book.

Even though I was disappointed not to be here for the unveiling of our newest "renters," the episode was the ultimate reminder of what writing is all about. New stories can't wait for us to be in just the right spot to be hatched. We have to be ready, no matter what, for the words to come. We have to weave those nests, working day in and day out, to be ready for the story to tick-tick-tick through the shell we create.

Even if you have only fifteen minutes, show up at the page. If you don't, those stories will hatch and be gone without your having any opportunity to show them how to fly.

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May 21, 2007

Hot Women in Children's Literature

I got a friendly kick-in-the pants from a writing friend today who pointed out that my blog was blank. Well, my blog may have been blank, but my calendar hasn't been. Spring is prime school visit time and I've been doing my fair share. I'm personally feeling very proud of fearlessly facing 850 junior high kids in a gym last week and all of us having a darned good time.

I'm off again for a Write Sister retreat, during which my dear friends Tricia Gardella, Helen Ketteman, Mary Nethery and Ann Whitford Paul will gently point out to me all the flaws of the first five chapters of my latest novel. Before I fly, I have to announce the newest Hot Woman of Children's Literature, nominated by a former Haystack participant.

The latest Hottie makes magic with illustration, having produced such charmers as Everywhere Babies, Roller Coaster, Santa Claus the Number One Toy Expert and the irresistible Clementine. Marla Frazee is not only a fabulous illustrator, she is a generous teacher and the definitive bon vivant. I saw her transform a dorm room at Reed College into a salon Martha Stewart would envy -- and all with a vintage tablecloth, some colorful necklaces, a bunch of tulips and her warm smile.

So, a tip of the artist's beret to the latest Hot Woman of Children's Literature!

Posted by kirby at 04:56 PM | Comments (0)

May 03, 2007

Slow to Learn

You would think, after nearly breaking my neck reading Penny from Heaven, I would have reformed my ways and desisted from reading on the treadmill. Not me! Tragedy was narrowly avoided last night while I had my nose in Rat Life, by Tedd Arnold. I was at an extremely exciting part and failed to notice that the treadmill had stopped. And I didn't.

After I picked myself up off the floor and did a quick inspection -- severely damaged pride, two bruises but no broken bones -- I leaned against a nearby elliptical trainer and finished the book. Tedd Arnold is much beloved for his raucous, bright and hysterical illustrations for books like Parts and More Parts and, my personal favorite, Green Wilma. And let's not forget the Theodore Geisel Award for Hi! Fly Guy.

For the second time recently (the first was with Peace Like a River by Leif Enger), I could not read like a writer. I had to devour this book because I couldn't stand not knowing what happened next. I look forward to a second read, when I can go back and learn from Tedd's deft hand at weaving in historical and setting details, at creating fully-formed and fascinating characters and making my heart race. And, brilliant guy that he is, he also uses the entire story as a way to teach kids (and 52-year-olds) about writing! What teacher isn't going to love this book?

I had the pleasure of meeting the very tall but very kind and self-effacing Tedd at the Southern Kentucky Book Festival. I also met his wonderful and very tiny wife Carol but it was hard to see her behind that enormous stack of books she was buying!

Even if you have been living in a cave for the past 20 years and don't know Tedd's work as an illustrator, you will still enjoy reading Rat Life.

But, please, read it in the safety of your own home. Not on a treadmill.

Posted by kirby at 08:30 AM | Comments (1)

May 02, 2007

Hot Women in Children's Literature

The great thing about this new award I've started is that it is so easy to come up with Hot Women in Children's Literature! Not only do I have my own list, but I keep getting great suggestions. I'm going to have to keep up this blog until I'm 90 in order to acknowledge all the HWCLs out there.

I'm in a picture book frame of mind, especially after hearing optimistic words about the genre at the recent SCBWI-Washington Spring Conference. So today's nominee is a picture book writer, and someone I consider to be the queen of poetic children's picture books. She's also a gourmet chef who believes dessert is an essential of any good meal (I love her for that alone!). Her cat, Mr. Darcy, thinks he's a dog and comes when this Hot Woman calls.

Today's Hottie is a generous writing teacher; I myself have had her bleed all over my manuscripts. She even tried to teach me how to write haiku. But after my first efforts, she steered me to cinquains, an easier form; these proved to be instrumental in my getting to the emotional heart of Hattie Big Sky.

Ann Whitford Paul, come on down -- you are this week's Hot Woman in Children's Literature.

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Seattle SCBWI Conference

Co-Regional Advisors, Jolie Stekly and Sara Easterly, along with the SCBWI-Western Washington Ad Com posse outdid themselves this past Saturday. Over 400 writers descended upon the Meydenbauer Center in Bellevue to spend a day soaking up rays of writing sunshine.

The day started with a good news panel, featuring newly published writer Shannon Riggs who first attended a conference two years ago. At that time, she was agonizing over the decision of whether to keep writing when she found out she was the winner of the grand prize drawing -- free admission to the conference the following year. She took that as a sign to keep writing and we're glad she did: her first book, Not in Room 204, is just out!

The day overflowed with inspiration, information and honesty. Agent Linda Pratt (Sheldon Fogelman Agency) pointed out that "blogging is not writing." (I hope she's not reading this right now!) Stacy Graham O'Connell, Associate Editor, Walter Lorraine Books, shared the story that in its first year Curious George sold only 4000 copies. She says writing takes imagination. . .and patience.

In an insightful first pages session, editors Deborah Noyes Wayshak (Candlewick) and Abigail Samoun (Tricycle Press) reminded writers to "serve the master of story rather than the master of rhyme."

Paul Zelinsky made me feel guilty for all the refrigerator magnets I've thrown away in my life as he shared how he created the art for The Shivers in the Fridge, by Fran Manushkin.

The good news was that agents and editors alike sounded hopeful about the picture book market. And over and over again, we were challenged to write our own stories, to start our own trends.

The incomparable Bruce Coville gave the closing keynote, which involved demonstrating that a writer can make anything -- even dropping a book in a mud puddle -- full of tension and excitement. While he didn't dance on tabletops, he did climb up on one! His passion and enthusiasm sent us all on our way, awfully glad we were writers and ready to get back to work.

I don't know what's lined up for next year's conference, except that it will be two days, April 26-27. I'd plan to be there, if I were you!

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April 24, 2007

Thank you, Elizabeth George

I had read several Elizabeth George mysteries -- set in jolly old England -- before I ever had a chance to hear her speak. Imagine my confusion when this petite, curly-headed woman stepped up to the podium and began to talk about writing. . .in a good old American accent. Turns out, California native Elizabeth George is such a fan of things British that when she began writing, she decided to ignore that advice to "write what you know" and instead wrote what she was crazy about, namely luxurious English mysteries. What a concept!

At that lecture, I picked up a copy of her Write Away, intending to read it right away (bad pun intended). So much for good intentions. Last week -- several years after that lecture -- I threw George's book in my bag as I left for the Texas Library Association conference and then for the Southern Kentucky Book Festival. Thanks to those long plane rides, I had plenty of time to read Write Away. And I devoured it! Though George says it's geared to new writers, I highlighted so much of the book, I nearly passed out from the fumes. What I especially fell in love with was the concept of THADs: Talking Head Avoidance Devices.

I'd written an article myself on anchoring dialogue to avoid conversations between characters that appear to float around in space (it may even still be posted on the Institute of Children's Literature website) but George takes the concept to the next level. And how elegantly simple her solution: give your characters something to do as they talk.

She thoughtfully provides a list of ideas near the end of the book, but when I gave my Tuesday night class the assignment to come up with THADs for their characters, they came up with some corkers: changing a baby's diaper, arranging a bouquet of flowers, skipping stones at a creek, kicking a soccer ball, playing tennis, and watching a building burn. What they found is that these activities not only grounded their characters in a specific time and place, the ensuing dialogue carried more weight and more meaning.

I pushed my students to think of THADs that were surprising in some way, given their stories. So, for example, in one student's futuristic tale where water is more precious than premium gasoline, arranging a bouquet of flowers in a water-filled vase packs a powerful punch. Two teenage boys talking about whether a certain girl likes one of them has a whole different impact when the conversation takes place while one of the teens is changing his infant son's diaper. And a plump preteen's walk to town in a nice dress and high heels reflects her 1930's walk into adulthood.

Give it a try yourself. Prepare to be amazed! And prepare to have a darned good time, too.

Posted by kirby at 09:41 PM | Comments (0)

March 12, 2007

University of Central Missouri Book Festival

I think Naomi Williamson wears a Superwoman cape under her clothes. She must to be able to manage over 40 authors and 6,000 school children in the space of two days. Though she is much too diplomatic to say so, I would imagine she finds it easier to deal with the thousands of kids than the authors! (Just kidding. But you should have seen her trying to get the 40+ of us organized for a group photo!)

The UCM Book Festival is in its 39th year but this is the first year I've ever participated. Even though my plane was hours and hours late, the volunteer who picked me up was as cheerful at midnight as he was every other time I saw him over the next few days. I have never really thought of Missouri as the South, but they have definitely mastered southern hospitality.

Coincidentally, dear friend and neighbor Janet Carey also attended (and was swarmed with fans; her Wenny Has Wings was a Mark Twain winner in 2005). She was the only other participant I knew before arriving but it didn't take long to make new friends. Since I'd missed the introductory dinner the night before (thank you, United Airlines!), I didn't know any of the folks sitting at the tables around me, enjoying the lovely breakfast at the Comfort Inn. From their conversations, I was pretty sure they were my fellow presenters. As I at my yogurt, I debated: go over and introduce myself or sit here in a shyness stupor. The urge to get acquainted won out. I walked over to the table and said hello. Room was quickly made at the table and I found I was sitting with quite the celebrated crowd: Stephanie Tolan, Joan Carris, Jeanette Ingold and Patricia Hermes. Later, I got to meet Barbara "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever" Robinson -- I tried not to look too starstruck -- who is not only funny and warm, but tied with Pat Hermes for the most stylish footwear of the event. Vivian Vande Velde is not only a terrific writer, she's a terrific photographer and did her best to capture us all with mouths closed (hard to do with all the chatting going on). I am in awe of D. Anne Love who works to make sure she has one new book each year (I felt like such a slacker). Mary Cassanova and I compared notes and discovered our writing journeys held many similar twists and turns.

This entry would be far too long if I tried to list each of the wonderful authors I met -- but the few days with them showed me, once again, that children's book writers and illustrators are about the nicest folks in the whole wide world.

Go check out the entire cast of fine writers who attended this year's festival. Now that I've had a chance to get to know them as people, I can't wait to get to know them better through their writing. I'd encourage you to do the same!

Personal note: you won't hear from me for awhile. But when you do, expect some highlights from a trip to New Zealand, including meeting renowned YA author, Fleur Beale.

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February 26, 2007

Gumbo Lessons

During my week in Louisiana, I learned at least three ways to make gumbo: with and without okra, file on the rice or file in the gumbo, and browning the flour first or browning the onions first. I also learned how to eat it, Cajun-style: spoon rice into a bowl, sprinkle with file (ground dried sassafras leaves), ladle on the gumbo, then make a well in the gumbo-rice mix and plop in a scoop of homemade potato salad (made with red potatoes).

All the different recipes for this bayou staple got me to thinking about writing. We all draw from the same staples: characters, setting, questions. But our individual ways of looking at the world, of making sense of life's ups and downs, even personal preferences (some folks actually prefer to have their potato salad on the side!), influence how we put a story's ingredients together. And just as there is no one way to make gumbo, there is no one way to write a story. In fact, you want to bring as much of yourself to your work -- that's what will insure that it is unique and fresh, not generic and cliche.

I teach a workshop that meets in my home on Tuesday nights. There's an imaginary can on the table and anytime anyone disses their own work -- "My story isn't as good as Sarah's," -- I make them put a "quarter" in the can. While it certainly is important to read others' work and to think about what makes certain stories speak to you, it isn't at all helpful to fall into the trap of thinking, "Well, I didn't do it like that so something must be wrong with my work."

When you start to get sucked into this kind of negative self-talk, just think about making gumbo.

It's tasty, no matter how it's put together.

Now, get back to work.

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February 05, 2007

42

Does anybody else out there remember reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? In one section of this story, the question of life, the universe and everything is fed into a Super-Computer. After eons of computing, finally an answer appears: 42. What the hey? 42? That makes no sense at all. What the scientists realize is that the wrong question had been entered and that's why the answer is bogus.

I've been to many, many writing conferences and always, always the wrong questions are asked. You hear lots of angst about whether or not to get an agent, how many manuscripts to send out at a time, what to do if your manuscript is the subject of a bidding war (in your dreams) and just how many blurbs will rocket a book to the New York Times Bestseller list?

All of these questions (except the last) can be answered in some form or another. 42 is as good an answer as any.

The challenge is that these aren't the questions that should be asked.

Here is what should be asked:

Have I worked my butt off to write the most honest and true story I can?
Will anyone (besides the people who love me) care about my main character?
Have great sacrifices been made for this story? Have I suffered? Has the main character suffered? (if the reader suffers, this is NOT a good thing).
Have I worked away in painful solitude without one thought about what I would wear on Oprah?

I would've been scared spitless by Flannery O'Connor and yet I agree with her on this point (and many others): She was once asked if university programs didn't discourage young writers. Her answer? "They don't discourage enough of them."

If you take up writing for children because you think it's easy, because you have a message to send or because your grandchildren love your stories about Opie Oppossum whose tail doesn't curl, please do the world a favor and go on tour with Madonna instead.

But if you are willing to sit alone for one, two, three or more years and hammer out a story that is honest and gutsy and true, pull up a chair. Sit at the "real" grown-up's table -- the table where people have the integrity to write for children.

And, trust me, with or without an agent, a blurb or a platform, your story will find a home.

And getting your story to readers IS the answer to life, the universe and everything.

Posted by kirby at 08:54 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

December 07, 2006

Knitting Together a Story

I've just taken up knitting again. I'm using "again" loosely -- when I was in high school, I bought several skeins of hot pink and citrusy orange yarn to make a sweater I saw in Seventeen magazine. I started the sweater, that I know. But I also know I never finished it.

Our son lives in New York and has chronic colds. What could show a mother's love better than a handknit muffler? I bought a ball of cream and a ball of rust in the cushiest yarn I could find. I fell for one of the scarves on display at the yarn store. All I had to do was cast on 30 stitches and knit 2, purl 2 and I would be able to give my son the equivalent of a daily dose of chicken soup. The project went with me to New York for Thanksgiving. And I was going to town on it. Until the night I sat alone in the hotel room while my boys engaged in male bonding over hockey at Madison Square Garden.

A couple of rows after I changed colors, I realized I was in big trouble. Now I had 31 stitches and the pattern had melded into something that looked like undercooked oatmeal. Impulsively, I tore out the offending rows. . .and realized I couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Now, I had too much time into this project to let it go the way of the pink and orange sweater. So upon my return home, I got myself to the nearest yarn store where I was taught to "tink."

That's "knit" backwards, in case you were wondering. The patient woman at Village Yarn and Tea showed me how to undo my mess and get back to where I'd made the mistake. (I also learned that my interpretation of knit 2, purl 2 had resulted not in the pattern's called-for ribstitch, but in my own creation, now called the mistake stitch. But I like it anyway).

As I tinked away, I was struck by how this textile lesson could also apply to writing. Sometimes we write ourselves into one heck of a mess. And the easy answer is to pitch the whole ugly thing and start over. Okay, let's be completely honest. I'm not talking in generalities here, but in specifics. I had just written myself into one heck of a mess with the middle grade historical novel and was ready to pitch the whole thing and start afresh.

But then I learned to tink. And I took that lesson from the needles and applied it to the page. I am slowly unknitting the story I created, working back to the time where I was excited about the premise, where it was fresh and new. It's farther back than I had to go with my son's scarf, but unlooping the plot let me see the heart of the story. I'd gotten too caught up in trying out fancy stitches. I needed to get back to what I do best: knitting together a character I care about with a problem he (in this case) needs to solve for himself.

Tinking with this text helped me find the story's pattern again. So maybe it isn't just like the model on display; but it's my creation. It warms me, as my son's muffler will warm him. . .as soon as I get it finished.

Posted by kirby at 05:56 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

November 05, 2006

NaNoWriGo!

Is it something in the water? In the air? In turning 52? I have no idea. But I do know that this year has been jam-packed with forays outside my comfort zone. Last March, I spent a week sleeping on an army cot, while helping with clean-up after Hurricane Katrina. This afraid of heights girl climbed up on roofs with no problem, to help shovel off shingles for salvage. In August, after lots of training, I walked 60 miles in three days in the 3 Day Walk for the Cure. An added stretch there was committing to raise $2200, which I did and then some.

In August, new friend and colleague, Stephanie Bodeen, told me about NaNoWriMo and how she'd ultimately gotten a two-book deal out of her November 05 efforts.

Now, as thrilled as I am to have a new book out and as thrilled as I am about how well HATTIE BIG SKY is doing, I was beginning to feel like a fraud. A writer who doesn't write. I was marketing like crazy, but writing was nearly non-existent.

So I signed on for NaNoWriMo. On October 31, I had no idea what I was going to write about but I had three characters in mind. I woke up at 3:30 am on November 1, ready to write. I did go back to sleep for a couple of hours -- do you know how dark and cold it is at that time of day?! -- but when I did hit the keyboard, I cranked out 2471 words! The next day, I hit 2690. My pace has slowed some (I've been in the 1600-1800 word range) but the words keep coming. And I wake up every single morning, dying to find out what's going to happen next.

Now, I still have my teaching, marketing and other obligations. But do you know what I'm finding out? I can get most everything done and still crank out 1600 words. Every single day.

I suspect we are all capable of writing some set number of words each day. And just think where we'd be if the commitment to that goal was a year round thing, rather than just for one month!

If I can do it, you can do it. Go- WriMo!

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October 31, 2006

Ready, Set, Write!

Tomorrow is the big day: the first day of National Novel Writing Month, or as it's more fondly known, NaNoWriMo. To the outside world, I may appear calm as a cucumber, but inside I'm jelly.

I honestly have no idea what I'm going to write! The thought has left me with a dry mouth and thoughts of begging off completely (I have had a busy fall, I'm going to be gone a lot in November, I need to winterize the garden; the list of valid excuses is quite long). But the thought of publicly having to admit I blew it is much too painful; besides, I can already taste that delicious latte Stephanie Bodeen is going to have to buy me.

So I'm putting on my game face. And stealing some concepts from my yoga teacher, including:
Breathing. Deeply. Often. That should help keep me calm and get that essential oxygen to my feeble brain.
Finding a focal point. It's much easier to do poses, especially those requiring balance, if you find a stable point to focus your gaze on. My new focal point? My iBook G4's screen.
Different bodies, different poses. As our teacher reminds us each class, human bodies are unique. Poses will also be unique. I am going to work to do what this writer can do and not worry (too much) about what other writers are doing.
It's called yoga practice, not yoga perfect. 50,000 words in a month means there will be a lot of words (sentences, paragraphs, pages) that will be far from perfect. This exercise is not about perfection; it's about getting a draft completed.

So, here I sit, getting in touch with my inner writer, ready to breathe and ready to rumble.

Just in case these higher principles don't work, I've got a 2 pound box of Godiva chocolates sitting here on my desk. One per 1600 words.

Namaeste.

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October 19, 2006

The Secret to Writing

I gave a reading on Monday night at the University of Washington Bookstore at Mill Creek (thank you, Jessica Terez, for taking such good care of me!). At the end of the reading, a very earnest woman raised her hand and asked me the key to writing, to making art.

I knew she thought I had THE answer, that I'd found the secret somehow. And I have.

It's called "bum glue." (The phrase is stolen unabashedly from Stephen King). Definition: put your bum in your writing chair and stick.

You have to stick when the weather is warm and there are weeds in the garden calling your name. You have to stick when it's rainy and cold and you want to curl up with hot cocoa and a good book. You have to stick when you're upset because yet another celebrity book has just launched. You have to stick when you don't feel good and really need some cinnamon toast and TLC.

Most of all you have to stick when what you're writing is really bad. Because most of it will be, especially in the first drafts. You grit your teeth, hold your nose, even close your eyes -- you do what ever you need to do to fill the page with words.

Without bum glue, you will be the person who has always wanted to write (or paint or draw or throw pots; you fill in the blank). A liberal dose of bum glue enables you to be the person who completes a rough draft, then another, and another until you have something that has heart and polish and life.

My dentist shows up in his white coat every day. My friendly barristas are there steaming milk. Norma Jean, my postal delivery person, faithfully chugs up the hill to fill our box with mail. I'm sure there are days when it doesn't seem fun to drill or steam or chug. But they do it.

Even if you have another job (which you do if you're a writer. James Michener said, "In America, one can make a fortune writing, but not a living."), you need to treat writing as your second job. One with a mean boss who makes you work even when you don't feel like it.

It's like a trick I learned at Weight Watchers -- wait at least ten minutes before you take seconds and you find you weren't as hungry as you thought. With writing, it's the opposite -- stay glued to that chair just ten minutes more.

And you won't be the person who wishes she'd written. You'll be busy dusting off your shelves making room for your latest book.

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October 13, 2006

Proof, beyond a shadow of a doubt

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October 12, 2006

Suspicious Minds

You wouldn't guess it to look at her, but my colleague, Stephanie Bodeen, is not a very trusting person. She was so suspicious of my claims that I was going to participate in National Novel Writing Month that she had the nerve to issue me a challenge.

I had no idea she'd gotten to know me so well in such a short time.

Well, Stephanie, oh-ye-of-little-faith, I have now officially registered, have created my Magna Carta I and Magna Carta II and I even have a vague idea of what I might write about! (Very, very, very vague. Extremely vague). But as they say in NaNoWriMo land -- "no plot? no problem!"

Now, I have a gauntlet of my own to throw down -- the first one to 50,000 words buys the lattes!

Mine is a tall, nonfat, extra hot. En garde!

Posted by kirby at 02:36 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

October 09, 2006

Putting My Money Where My Mouth Is

The great thing about a new book is that you have a new book! You go to booksignings and book festivals and Inside Story and school visits and let's not forget that big book launch party (if you're in the Seattle area, please come -- it's Sunday, October 29, from 5-7 pm at All for Kids books. RSVP please).

The not-so-great thing about a new book is all of the above. Because it means you really aren't writing. Okay, I did spend the summer working on a nonfiction picture book with my dear Write Sister, Mary Nethery (whose cat, Asta, is an author!). But that was it. Okay and my day poems (my morning discipline). And those two short stories. But that's not much.

I am starting to feel like a bit of a fraud. So, inspired by my colleague from the Whidbey Writers Workshop MFA program, Stephanie Stuve-Bodeen, I am commiting to National Novel Writing Month. Beginning November 1, I will be a writing fiend! I may not crank out the 50,000 words they set as their bar (children's books generally aren't that long) but I will complete a novel. Do I have a plot? Not right now. A character? Only the merest whisper. But hundreds of other NaNoWriMo participants have been unfazed by such things and I, too, am going to embrace the uncertainty.

I will try to keep you posted here on my progress. But if I am too busy writing, I ask your forgiveness in advance.

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October 06, 2006

Sassy is Savvy

Our local SCBWI chapter is phenomenal. Co-regional advisors, Cathy Benson, Sara Easterly, and Jolie Stekly are the Emerils of children's book creators -- they have really kicked things up a notch.

For the opening fall meeting, they invited Patti Lee Gauch, V.P. and Editor-at-Large of Philomel Books (and sassy author in her own right) who spoke on SASSY IS AS SASSY DOES: HOW ATTITUDE AFFECTS VOICE FROM PICTURE BOOKS TO NOVELS. Modeling her own 'tude (about machines -- she hates and mistrusts them and insists she breaks them wherever she goes), she reviewed for us many memorable characters in children's books -- Ramona, Maniac Magee, Gilly Hopkins. While sassiness is a trait not overly admired in real-life kids, it's an essential quality in kid characters.

Not only that, the story should have some sass: "If everything's hunky-dory, there is no story," quipped the inimitable Ms. Gauch. "A story must move a character along a path that tests the character," she stated. And don't create namby-pamby worlds for your character to live in -- "a small world is not an ordinary world," she said.

Here's another shocker -- she encouraged writers and illustrators to be sassy, too. What would my mom say? After all these years of trying to be nice, I have an important and seasoned editor and writer demanding me to let my sassy self out. In Gauch's closing, she beknighted us into the Kingdom of Sass with this proclamation: "The character must stand up because they are standing up for us and for every child reader." Bold characters require bold creators.

I have felt more powerful than Wonder Woman since Wednesday night -- you should see me swagger into my office and toss my hair around as I work.

There is some serious sassy in this house this week. Now, you go get some, too.

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September 23, 2006

Begin the Hours of this Day Slow

Forgive me if this entry is a little soggy. Last Saturday, our darling daughter married her sweet Matt. It was an absolutely perfect day (okay, a few glitches but that's what makes weddings weddings!). All ten attendants, plus the flower girl, arrived at our home at 10 a.m. to dress for the 1 o'clock event. It was crazy and hectic and marvelous. My heart was, and still is, full.

A few months before the wedding, a dear writer friend, Pamela Greenwood presented me with a line from Robert Frost's poem, "October Morning." It reads: "Begin the hours of this day slow." She held onto that line as her own daughter was married several years ago. Thanks to her generosity, that line became my pre-wedding mantra. And that line enabled me to stop and fully enjoy each moment of Quinn and Matt's wedding weekend.

I would love to pass this gift on to you, my dear writing friends. There are so many pressures to produce, to accomplish, to publish. Let me encourage you to begin the hours of your writing day slow. Sit with your characters and your story. Don't push them to do things they weren't created to do. Don't miss those precious moments -- like when my father took my shaking hand as I sat alone in the pew waiting for my husband to join me -- because you are rushing to the next scene or chapter or project. Don't allow the fast pace of our world to pressure you into writing something slick or cliche or trivial. Slow down. Breathe. Take hold of another's hand. Gaze into your character's face and see the joy, the sorrows, the fears, the hopes there. Enjoy each moment of the creation process.

A story, a book, a wedding. "Retard the sun with gentle mist, enchant the land with amethyst. Slow, slow!"

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September 08, 2006

Nice Guys (and Gals) Don't Finish

I love being part of the children's book community. My colleagues are warm, funny and generous folks. And my writing students constantly delight and surprise me. On the whole, children's book creators are plain old nice folks.

Which is a problem. Especially for writers. I was reminded of this recently while critiquing a manuscript. The writer had engaging characters, a fresh voice and an intriguing story premise. All good, right? To a point, yes. But this writer is a long-time elementary teacher with a heart of solid platinum. She adores kids; she wants the best for kids; she's dedicated her life to helping them.

There's the rub. Her concern and dedication are beyond admirable in her life as a teacher. In her life as a writer, they are a millstone around her neck. My tenderhearted student has a hard time -- as do many writers -- letting her characters suffer. Yet suffering, overcoming obstacles, is the stuff of story.

Sometimes, we sabotage our stories by sending in a wise old grandparent or Wise Old Apple Tree or wise old animal to solve everything for the main character -- deus ex machina in a bunny suit, if you will. Sometimes, it's more a matter of backpedaling as fast as we can away from any hint of pain or sacrifice. Sometimes, we cop out on the whole issue of conflict resolution with that phrase that makes editors twitch: "But it was only a dream."

Here is my advice. The minute you plant your derriere in your writing chair, cease to be Miss Nelson. Ingest a healthy dose of Viola Swamp, Aunt Fidget Wonkham-Strong and Cruella deVille and place your trembling fingers on the keyboard. When the smoke clears, pound away. Pile the woes on little Will; tons of trouble for Tami Sue; maximimize the number of obstacles Max and Molly encounter. The moment you step away from the chair, you can resume being the kind of person who helps little old ladies across the street and buys Campfire Mints every February. But while you are writing, be hard-hearted. Because in letting your main character fall to the depths, you give them space to climb. And your reader wants to be right there with them, every single step down and every single step back up again. Don't deprive your character and your reader the inalienable right to face tough times because that's part of what being human is all about.

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August 28, 2006

Around the World in 60 Miles

I have been getting not-too-subtle hints about updating my blog. Sometimes, life is so rich and full, there is no time to write about it!

Since we last chatted, I spent 10 days on scenic Whidbey Island, teaching at the Whidbey Writers Workshop MFA short-term residency program. My colleagues in the Writing for Children and Young Adults arm included Stephanie Stuve-Bodeen, Jane Kurtz, Brent Hartinger and Richard Jesse Watson. I feel so honored to be part of this program, the first MFA in the country sponsored by a community of writers, rather than a university. Stephanie, my other permanent faculty colleague, has inspired me to participate in the National Write A Novel in a Month program in November -- the novel she wrote last November sold in July in a two-book deal! Jane, her usual inspiring and generous self, seems pretty smitten with that new grand-daughter of hers. Richard helped break down walls of resistance to making art and plain old playing when he gave us all the task of storyboarding a picture book and then, the next day, illustrating a two-page spread with a variety of materials including elephant dung paper. Brent challenged us to write true but to stay fresh.

The Whidbey MFA program also allows the student -- and the faculty -- to explore other forms of writing. Bruce Holland Rogers inspired me to write two short stories, something I haven't done in twenty years. Check out his short story subscription site -- for about $10 a year, you can get three orginal short stories delivered to your email box each month. And Bruce writes each and every single one of those stories.

Susan Zwinger, nature writer extraordinaire, inspired me at last summer's residency to write day poems, a discipline I've continued to embrace. David Wagoner's poetry recitation led me to begin memorizing poems I love (starting with Robert Frost's "October"). Lisa Dale Norton pushed me to capture those shimmering moments and poet Carolyn Wright awed me with her knowledge of history and her mastery of language. I came home enriched. . .and exhausted.

But I wasn't allowed to rest for long. Four days after the residency, I packed up two pairs of tennies, my sleeping bag and lots of pink to join 2700 other people for the Seattle 3-Day Walk for the Cure. We walked from Friday morning to Sunday afternoon, uphill and down and uphill and uphill. It was an honor to be walking for this great cause and an honor to be walking with so many amazing folks. I met one young woman who was 18 months out from her last chemo treatment; she couldn't have been more than 30. She was walking even though, since signing up for the walk, she'd learned her husband was shipping out to Iraq today. I sat in the shower line next to a woman from Chicago who is a 6 year cancer survivor. And I walked next to many men wearing their late wives' pictures pinned to their backs. It was a good thing I packed kleenex as well as lots of socks. You may think you couldn't do this walk but if I could, you could. And, if you can't walk (it does take a lot of time to adequately train) donate next year. Or be one of those lovely people who stands on the street, cheering walkers as they pass through your neighborhood. Mist the passing walkers with sprinklers or squirt guns or, better yet, pass out Otter Pops or Popscicles.

If I were to give this last month or so a theme, I would call it "community." I basked in a community of writers on Whidbey Island, helping others to grow as they helped me to grow. I basked in a community of walkers, helping others to give as they helped me to give. Writing and walking: both require stretching, pacing and keeping your eyes open. Both are about being fully open to this crazy, messy, uphill-both-ways human existence.

Posted by kirby at 07:32 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 25, 2006

No Needles in this Haystack

Did you know that there are 28 hours in every day during the Haystack Conference? There have to be -- otherwise conference founder extraordinaire, Linda Zuckerman, would not be able to squeeze everything in.

The conference was held on the idyllic Reed College campus, three hours south of me in Seattle. Road trip! I listened to The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, by Michael Chabon, on tape -- all six tapes! Except for getting so lost in the story that I didn't remember driving about 150 miles of I-5, it was smooth sailing.

I've attended many conferences, both as presenter and attendee, and this ranks up there with one of the most intimate, warm and helpful ever. Everyone eats meals together, so there is plenty of time for casual conversation. And students at Reed have it pretty good -- the food was actually tasty! Though I ate more than my share of cookies, I managed to lose a pound with all the walking we did.

Where to begin with the highlights? First was seeing dear friend and walking partner, Ann Whitford Paul, who kept me from stepping into the middle of the street when I got a phone call with good news from my editor. Ann is the queen of picture books and of poetry. Our sessions were opposite one another so I didn't get to sit in this time, but students were abuzz about the 6 Ws of picture book intros (Who, What, Why, Where, When and Wow!). If you ever have the chance to study with Ann, do so.

Anyone who thinks nonfiction is boring has never met Susan Goldman Rubin. I have a feeling Susan spent more than her share of time in the principal's office as a kid -- her eyes just glitter with mischief. But they also glitter with passion for sharing this fascinating world and the people who live in it with children. Her two newest books, Andy Warhol, Pop Painter and The Cat with the Yellow Star, are stunning. Here's her advice to writers of nonfiction books for young readers: "Think of scenes, like a cinematographer; you're not writing a master's thesis." About her process, she says, "I do all the research that the grown-ups do but I look for the nuggets that will appeal to kids."

As a writer, I so appreciated hearing both Elsa Warnick and Marla Frazee speak. Elsa explained that the "illustrator's primary role is as translator, translating written language to visual language." She walked us through her process as the illustrator for a new book, Hugs on the Wind. Marla showed us how different shapes and patterns contribute to our emotional understanding of an illustration. She also shephered ten or so talented illustrators during the conference. One of the most poignant sessions of the whole week occurred when the illustrators showed the way they "translated" writing prompts provided by participants. Next time, I'll bring Kleenex! Though there were many touching moments, the whole crew roared with laughter at Jaime Temairk's brilliant, fresh and hysterical interpretation of a text about a pirate who wouldn't say "Arrr."

Editor supreme, Steve Geck, of Greenwillow publishing, spoke to what was happening in middle grade fiction. He recently judged a works in progress grant for SCBWI and noticed that about one-fourth of the entries were fantasy, one-fourth contemporary and one-half historical. Only one of the many manuscripts he judged was "humorous or carefree." Though he noted, "Dying is easy; comedy is hard," he would love to see more humorous manuscripts for middle grade and tween readers.

Other highlights included Susan Blackaby's (Rembrandt's Hat) talk on writing for the educational market. If she ever decides she's tired of that, she's got a great future in stand up comedy. Nancy Osa encouraged those present to consider series writing as a way to hone their skills. Linda Zuckerman opened the conference, setting the tone for the week -- warmth, encouragement and honesty were the bywords. She worked her usual first pages magic, reading first pages submitted by participants and responding to them as a harried editor might. Her lovely new picture book, I Will Hold You 'Til You Sleep (ill. by Jon Muth), made its debut at the conference. David Gifaldi closed our full week with an inspirational and honest keynote address. He spoke of "rousing the cockroaches of doubt from the dark corners" of our minds and pointed out that the most common phrase in Lewis and Clark's journals was "We proceeded on." He urged us all to do the same.

It was not only an honor to be on the faculty with such gracious, smart and generous folks, it was an honor to work with the 60 participants. The quality of work was fabulous. I know we will see participants' names in print someday.

I've already blocked off my calendar to attend Haystack next year. I'd encourage you to consider it, too, if you want to follow Emeril's advice and kick it up a notch in your writing.

Posted by kirby at 03:32 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 07, 2006

Anchor Aweigh

Most writers have no problem incorporating great dialogue in their stories because we know how much readers like to “eavesdrop” on our characters. In addition to engaging the reader, dialogue can:
• Advance the plot
• Bring our characters to life as unique individuals.
• Convey emotion

Dialogue is critical to a story’s success so we work hard to make it sound natural, to create distinctive voices and to give it punch. Sometimes we get so focused on getting the characters’ conversations right that we miss something very basic. It’s what I call “anchoring.”

Consider this exchange below:

“Trish, get your stuff off there.”
“Make me, Anne.”
“I’m telling.”
“Oh, I am so scared.”
“You’ll be scared if I do this.”

We do get a sense of these characters –two girls sharing a space, engaged in the eternal “keep your stuff on your side of the room” argument. And it’s not all that difficult to follow who’s saying what. But where are they saying it? Are they talking in a bedroom in Lincoln, Nebraska in 1954? A space ship circling Mars in 2097? A cabin at summer camp on Whidbey Island? Are they sisters? Friends? Complete strangers? While we don’t want to spoon-feed information to our readers, we also don’t want them dog-paddling through too many unknowns. The reader doesn’t know how to navigate this dialogue because it’s adrift in a sea of limitless possibilities.

Thankfully, the fix is easy: we can anchor this exchange with setting details, character stage action and appropriate speech tags. Anchoring creates a backdrop against which a conversation takes place.

• Setting details: Think zoom lens rather than telephoto here. You’ll want to include details that give a sense of the very particular place in which the conversation is taking place. If it’s in the bedroom, mention the bed. If it’s on a space ship, it might be a pod; at summer camp, you’d probably mention a cot or bunk.
• Character stage action: Put on your director’s hat. Here is where you move the characters around in their very particular space. Where are the girls in this space? What behaviors does Anne engage in to emphasize her point? What nonverbal communication does Trish use to convey her lack of concern over Anne’s issues? You’ve got the camera rolling on these two characters in this scene and film’s expensive: make what they do count.
• Speech tags: Even in an emotion-packed scene, rely on those old standards “said” and “asked.” Avoid the temptation to use tags to tell the story. To paraphrase Mark Twain, “If you catch an adverb, kill it.” Resist the temptation to write, “Trish, get your stuff off there,” said Anne angrily; or “Make me,” replied Trish sarcastically. The emotion of the scene, the words the characters use, and the way you anchor the dialogue with details and action will inform the reader about the emotional content of what’s being said.

Not to press this metaphor too far, but anchoring allows the reader to get their sea legs – or story legs – for smooth sailing through your story.

Let’s get back to our girls. Here’s one way to anchor their conversation:

“Trish, get your stuff off there.” Anne pointed at her bed. “Now.”
Trish slowly turned the page in the latest issue of People. “Make me.”
“I’m telling.”
“Oh, I am so scared.” Trish faked an elaborate yawn.
Anne started for the door. Something caught her eye. “You’ll be scared if I do this,” she said, picking up the empty band aid tin where her sister stashed her pot.

The words the girls used in each example are virtually the same. But now we can see them in their world as they have this argument. We’re right there in that bedroom as Trish taunts Anne and pushes her to an act of retaliation. We can see them moving around in their environment, as well as hear them. And it’s clear that Anne is upset and that Trish couldn’t care less.

Take at look at the story you’re working on. Do you have a section of dialogue that is adrift at sea? Anchor it with specific setting details, character stage action and appropriate speech tags and you’ll soon find yourself charting a course toward publication.

Posted by kirby at 03:55 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 03, 2006

Flying Lessons

There are lessons to be learned every day, some right outside our own front doors. I had come to peace with the loss of "my" sweet little eggs awhile back. Yesterday, I was watering the fuschia (which hangs right next to the impatiens) and my chickadee friend flew out. She perched on the climbing rose trellis and read me the riot act. I'd record her comments here but this is a G-rated blog!

Hopeful, but cautious, I brought out the step stool and eased up the two steps so I could peek into the hanging basket. I will never use "bird brain" as an insult again! My power-of-positive thinking feathered friend had made a new nest, one flower pot over from the first. This time four perfect eggs rested inside -- one more than the first clutch.

My step is lighter as I think about that nest and what those four precious eggs represent. It's the new life, certainly, that brings such pleasure. But the inspiration that bird has provided! Her initial efforts were not simply rejected, as mine often are. They were destroyed. No hope of recreating them. And yet, she gathered more twigs and grass and other nest-y bits and built again. And produced four more eggs.

I've been working on a new book and about 30 pages into it, felt my words and my spirit sinking into a quagmire. First drafts are dull, disappointing and dreary. I'd been tempted to give up. But how can I now? This chickadee charmer is my new mentor.

And, don't worry. I've hidden the fertilizer where my husband will never find it.

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June 26, 2006

Typing Uphill Both Ways

Recently, my keyboard went on the fritz. I have no idea why (note to self: no more glasses of water on the desk) but suddenly, I couldn't type certain letters, like "i" or "s" and every other word or so was typed in all caps so it looked like I was screaming. After a morning of this, I was screaming.

The gods of the computers eventually smiled on me because the next day, I was able to type normally. With a lighter heart -- and a lighter touch on the keyboard -- I tackled the work at hand. It struck me, however, what a valuable lesson I'd learned. Besides the H2O thing. Actually, I learned two lessons.

First: Sometimes you need to walk away from a writing problem. When no amount of smacking the backspace or delete key could rid my screen of the garbled mess, I pushed my chair away from my desk and went out for a walk. Not only was this calming, but I began to think about a story I'd been working on in an entirely new way. I realized I could solve a plot problem using all the elements I'd already created, but in a fresher and more believable way.

Second: I was reminded that, even when one's keyboard is not possessed, writing is hard work. We fight against stuck keys, stuck imaginations and even stuck lives. We get rejected, reviewed and remaindered. And, especially when you write for children, sometimes you "don't get no respect." I find in moments like these that a pity party is just the thing, especially when it includes chocolate or lattes. Or both. Pity parties are great -- as long as they're short. You set your own time limits. Mine are about an hour per rejection, though I did take six months off once, when a book contract was cancelled. But I've never done that again.

Writing is a bit like when your dad went to school -- it is a long walk, uphill, both ways. But it's a long walk I hope I'm taking till I'm about 94 and can't manage one more step.

Posted by kirby at 07:31 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 23, 2006

Empty Nests

I couldn't write anything yesterday because of heartbreak. My darling spousal unit was trying to be helpful and spruce up the new plantings around here. In his haste, he forgot that I was harboring a clutch of eggs in the impatiens basket. As (rotten) luck would have it, the handful of fertilizer granules he tossed in landed smack in "my" nest, nearly covering those three precious eggs.

Mama chickadee did not return. I waited one whole day and night. Too long for the eggs to survive, but I couldn't let go of hope. Today, we had a funeral.

Mama chickadee is much more realistic than me -- according to a website about chickadees, if something happens to a clutch, they build another nest and lay more eggs. C'est la vie.

I will admit to having a much too tender heart. But this process is painfully familiar to me. Like Mama Chickadee, I take twigs and bits of stuff and fluff and weave it all together into a nest. My nest holds, not eggs, but ideas, words, images. I want each nestful, each story, to come to fruition, to find wings, to fly. But that isn't always the case. In fact, it is rarely the case. For every nest that bears fruit, there are many, many others that tumble to the ground and rot.

I weep when something bad happens to my nest. Mama black-capped chickadee just picks up and starts over. Maybe there's something to be said for being a bird-brain.

Posted by kirby at 07:45 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 21, 2006

Pirates!

I am holding my breath until the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie comes out. Johnny Depp! Do I need to say more?

But that's not the only reason I'm thinking swashbucklers and bottles of rum. Today, I was part of a focus group for our local SCBWI (Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators -- if you are creating books for kids, you absolutely need to join). The meeting was hosted by co-Regional Advisors extraordinaire, Sara Easterly and Jolie Steckly, at All for Kids Books, independent bookstore extraordinaire. Though Sara and Jolie kept the meeting moving right along, it was held in the event room, one of owner Chauni Haslett's amazing ideas. The walls are white -- boring, you say? But nearly every square inch of those four walls is covered with love notes from all the children's book creators who have appeared at the store (some rabble rousers even sign the ceiling). During a brief lull in the meeting, a skull and crossbones drawing caught my attention; there was someone else in the world with a pirate fetish! I peered closer. The image was signed by that scalliwag, Jack Gantos, with this caveat: "Read or Rot."

These three words are good advice for living a full life in general. But for writers, they are the unbreakable pirates' code. I can't tell you how many people I meet at conferences who want to write for children -- are writing for children -- but haven't read a children's book in umpteen years. If you want to write for children -- not at them -- you must read. Read everything you can get your hands on in the genre in which you want to write. Read even more in every other genre.

Look, would you want a surgeon who thought Incision 101 was beneath her? Would you want a waiter who never read the food handlers guidebook? Would you sign on with a pirate who didn't know the laws of the sea?

Instead of pondering these questions, get thee to a good independent bookstore, buy a few books, and go home and read. Eye patch optional.

Posted by kirby at 09:42 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 20, 2006

Posted by kirby at 09:25 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Birds in the Bush

A cedar basket of ruby-red impatiens hangs under the eave of my front porch. I water it every other day or so. About a week ago, as I watered it, a black-capped chickadee scolded me mercilessly. I smiled at his (or her) charming antics and went about my other chores. Then last night when I watered the basket, that little chickadee flew out from the blooms. Again, being a bear of very little brain, I thought, "oh, how cute."

It took a long walk this morning to clear the cranial clutter enough to do the math. As soon as I got home, I dragged a step-stool over to the basket, climbed up and peeked in. This time mama chickadee flew out, fluttered to the porch and did her best to convince me she was injured and, thus, an easy target.

I turned my eyes from her emoting and peeked in between the red blooms. There sat a heartbreakingly perfect round twig nest. Nestled in the middle were three speckled eggs, each about the size of red globe grape. I lingered a few moments more then backed away so Mama could get back to her babes.

Later, as I made my coffee, I thought how this miraculous moment had a lesson in it for me as a writer. My readers, too, long to find treasures, surprises, among the words blooming on the page. They don't want to find the cliche, the ordinary, the generic, the dull. They turn each page in hopes of finding something that makes their hearts stop the way mine did when I saw those exquisite eggs.

So I'm back at today's work, with an eye for places to plant nests where my readers will stumble upon them in delight.

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June 19, 2006

I Gotta Be Me

I am re-reading Art and Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking, by David Bayles and Ted Orland (Image Continuum Press). What? You do not have this book in your writer's arsenal yet? Make haste to your nearest local, independent bookstore and purchase one posthaste. My copy is to the point where but a few lines per page are not highlighted.

Here is the gem I am turning over in my mind this evening: "In large measure becoming an artist consists of learning to accept yourself, which makes your work personal, and in following your own voice, which makes your work distinctive."

In other words: Kirby, quite whining because you didn't write Because of Winn-Dixie or Belle Prater's Boy or Feed. Get thee to the keyboard and write the story that Kate Di Camillo and Ruth White and M.T. Anderson will wish they could've written. But they can't. Because they're not Kirby Larson, maybe the only girl in history to flunk boys' P.E. in 8th grade.

Here's the deal. No one else can write our stories. And we can't write anyone else's stories. So is there any sense in fussing and moaning over another writer's success? I'll bet you can answer that all for yourself. As my mother would say, "flour'em." Loosely translated, that means: stick your bum in the chair and write the story only you can write. So what if there are a hundred other pioneer stories? No one can write the one you have in mind. Dozens of coming-of-age-girls-who-play-football tales? Maybe yours will be the next Dairy Queen. There are already hundreds of picture books with pig characters? Maybe yours will capture the world the way Olivia has.

So today's tip: glue yourself to your work chair, or face the risk of depriving the world of that brilliant story only you can write.

Posted by kirby at 09:10 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 15, 2006

Let the Old Lady Scream

The one comment I make more than any other on student work is “show, don’t tell.” When a story is told, the reader has no choice about how to feel, how to understand, how to experience the story. In other words, the reader is not involved. He or she is kept at arm’s length. And the reader will no doubt keep such a story at arm’s length -- or farther! – away. When we show a story, we create scenes that draw our readers in so they can experience the story for themselves. This is our goal as writers.
Here are some tips for avoiding the telling trap in your writing:

Write more than one draft. Without exception, first drafts are rife with telling. And that makes sense because the first draft is when you’re telling yourself the story. Once you understand what the story is, then you can go about creating scenes, bringing the story to life. I love the way Anne Lamott describes the revision process in her indispensable book, Bird By Bird. She says the first draft is the “down draft,” where we get the story down. The second (third, fourth and forty-fourth) draft is the “up” draft, where we fix the story up. If you are only doing one or two drafts of your work, you’re not giving yourself a fair chance to fix it up.

Listen to Mark Twain. I keep this Twain quote by my computer: “Don’t say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream.” Memorize those key words: “bring her on.” Twain tells us to make sure the important parts of our story are on scene, played out in front of the reader. It’s as if your words are the screenplay for the movie playing in the reader’s head. How do you know if you have a scene? You’ve got Dialogue, Emotion, Action, and Description on the page. (Notice the acronym: DEAD. That’s what your writing will be if you don’t create scenes.)

Let’s say your main character, Jenny, and her brother, Luke, are trying to get to the barn to escape a bad storm. In your first draft, you might write:

Dark clouds gathered overhead. Jenny and Luke ran as fast as they could toward the safety of the barn.

This tells us about the storm and about the kids’ attempt to escape from it. Watch what happens when I punch this up with dialogue, emotion, action, and description:

The sky overhead churned with oily clouds.
“Come on, Luke,” Jenny tugged on her little brother. “We’ve got to get going.”
“But I didn’t catch a fish!” Luke stomped his foot.
Jenny didn’t want to frighten him. But those clouds signaled trouble. Big trouble. “I forgot the net,” she lied. She picked up the tackle box. “Race you back to the barn to get it.”
“But I didn’t catch a --,” a gust of wind snatched the pole from Luke’s hands. He grabbed for it.
“Let it go.” Jenny had to yell to be heard over the roaring gust. “Run!” She grabbed her brother’s hand and they pounded toward the barn.

You’ll note that it takes more words to create a scene. But the results are well worth it. With the addition of dialogue, emotion, action, and description, we can now see those two kids racing against the storm to reach the barn. Our hearts are racing along with them, because we’ve been shown the story, rather than told.

Weigh what’s important. Sometimes when we try to show a story, we succumb to the temptation to include everything. We would do well to recall Elmore Leonard’s advice: “Leave out the parts people skip.” Yes, we need to add details to bring a story to life, but we need to make sure they are the right details. Let’s say you are writing a story about Carmen. Her problem is that she borrowed her friend’s book and lost it. Now, you may know that Carmen has red hair and that her little brother swallowed his tooth yesterday and that her grandmother makes great cannoli. These are fabulous details! But they have nothing to do with Carmen’s struggle to reconcile with her friend over the lost book. So leave them out. Don’t fret. They are such great details that you’ll be able to work them into another story.

So go ahead:
• Write more than one draft,
• Measure the importance of each detail,
• And let that old lady scream.

Because when you do, you’ll bring your work to life on the page. And when you do that, you’ll soon be screaming, too, with joy because you’ve sold a story.

Posted by kirby at 08:32 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

June 14, 2006

The Teacher Gets Schooled

Next month, I'm presenting a workshop called "Let the Wild Rumpus Start: What Every Beginning Writer Needs to Know" at the 7th Annual Pacific Northwest Children's Book Conference. Called Haystack by most of us (even though it's being held at Reed College), this is a dynamite week.

In preparation for the workshop, I polled some former students: what did they wish they'd known when they started out? Nearly every one of them said, "show, not tell."

That got me thinking. I write the same comments over and over on beginning writers' work. Why not share some of what I've learned here? So, starting tomorrow, I'll have a new writing tip each week. Check in tomorrow for the Kirby Larson sermon, "Let the Old Lady Scream."

As always, however, my students end up teaching me. In response to my query, one student wrote: "Show don't tell means that you never put your ideas about the character on the page; those belong in your notes. You put down the unique and telling details that give your readers the experience, so they come to the idea themselves." If my biceps weren't so wimpy, I'd get that tattooed on my arm!

Posted by kirby at 03:43 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

June 12, 2006

New York Times Nebbish

Like many other women of a certain age, I forget things: words, keys, the fact that I have two children. One of the "cures" for this mind shrinkage is doing crossword puzzles. So, a few months ago, I began doing the puzzles in the Seattle Times. Most days, I could ink in those boxes in no time flat. I felt like the A-Rod of crossword puzzles.

That was until I went to see Word Play at the Seattle Film Festival. Sigh. Now I know I am a nebbish of the nth degree. The people featured in this witty and warm documentary complete the New York Times puzzle in minutes. Literally. And they are, for the most part, ordinary people. Smart, word-obsessed but ordinary. Okay, maybe some aren't so ordinary: Will Shortz (who created his own degree in Enigmatology at Indiana State University -- ya gotta love that ), Mike Mussina, pitcher for the New York Yankees, President Bill Clinton, and the Indigo Girls, both Amy Ray and Emily Saliers.

If anyone had ever told me that a film about crossword puzzles would be fabulous -- I confess to being more moved by it than by Altman's A Prairie Home Companion, which I'd seen the night before -- I would've thought they needed more soy in their diet. Let me assure you -- this is a feel good film every writer should see. Plus, it will inspire you to "increase your word power."

Now, let's see -- what's a 9-letter word for "stop sending us manuscripts"?

Posted by kirby at 09:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

May 30, 2006

Through the Glass Snarkly

In my next life, I get to come back as Myrna Loy in the Thin Man movies -- slinky dresses, martinis and a rapier wit. Until then, I must live the high life vicariously through Miss Snark, the gin-sipping agent.

A New York gal -- or so she says -- Miss Snark is a superhero in T. Rexual heels. She saves us author nitwits from making horrible mistakes. And she provides some much needed laughter in this ofttimes discouraging writing life. Especially delicious is the link to a short video about a rejection letter of a rejection letter. Here's to Bernard Black!

Waiter. a Blue Sapphire martini for the lady at the bar. And a milk bone for her dog, Killer Yap.

Posted by kirby at 09:41 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

May 17, 2006

See-ing the Light about Good Writing Habits

I adore Carolyn See's Making a Literary Life. One of her disciplines is to write 1000 words a day. And she doesn't cheat: if she writes 2000 words one day, it's still 1000 the next. No banking of words! (Notice I am cleverly avoiding commenting on my own daily output.)

The other discipline she follows is writing one charming note a day (phone calls count but emails don't). I've given this a shot myself and, while I don't write one a day, those I have written have led to some lovely exchanges. I've been penpals with Elvira Woodruff, Candace Fleming and Frances O'Roark Dowell among others. I've even sent mash notes to editors, telling them when I love a book of theirs or complimenting them on a well deserved award. When I wrote to Jeannette Larson at Harcourt after How I Became A Pirate won some award or another, I not only received a nice note in return, I scored some pirate tatoos!

Here are my rules, adapted from Carolyn's: charming literary notes must be handwritten on great stationery (I love using Julie Paschkis' "Liberty Notes" or notes purchased from the Kerlan collection; they must be sincere (no brown-nosing allowed) and they must simply share good wishes or compliments. No asking for favors!

Go ahead -- give it a go. And let me know about any delicious correspondences that develop.

Posted by kirby at 02:07 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

April 26, 2006

Character Education

Ann Lamott (Bird by Bird) says plot is character and I agree. The most intricate story machinations don't mean much if the characters are duds. Flat characters are generally the result of lazy writing. Do you know what your character is afraid of? Whether she cheats at board games or collects ceramic hippos? Does he tattle on his big sister or help little old ladies learn to skateboard?

One way I got to know Hattie was to have her write letters to every other character in the book. Through those letters, I learned she was jealous of Mildred Powell, that she knew her teacher didn't think much of her and that what she really wanted more than anything was a place to belong. Very few of these letters actually ended up in the novel, but without having written them, I wouldn't have known where Hattie's story was headed.

You say your character wouldn't write letters? Would she send emails, text messages, keep a ship's log or field journal, compose an opera, create a recipe or a comic strip or a blog? Pick one and go for it! You'll be amazed at what your character reveals to you about himself.

Posted by kirby at 04:13 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack