…actually has some pretty good general tips as well.
(and a good book on the craft of writing)
Category: BOOKS!
Faking It
Ahh Johnny, If Only It Were So Easy
Today’s YES! Quote is for all the folks out there staring at a blank white page….
#amwriting
It’s almost time!
Half time, that is. Hmm, that doesn’t sound quite right.
Let’s start again. It’s almost here…the moment so many of you have been waiting for. And by “so many” I mean my Mom.
Hi Mom!
What I mean to say is…my next book is almost on the shelves. YIPPPEEEE!
Please welcome Half A Giraffe? to my lineup of picture books. Coming to all good booksellers in the grand ol’ United States (and probably to an online retailer that is named after a really long River [not the Nile] or perhaps a tribe of kick-butt women. You know what I’m saying’…) in September 2018!
Here’s a lovely picture of 1/2 giraffes drawn by some lovely children from a lovely book fair I went to in Maine.
The *real* Gisele was drawn by Richard Smythe, an artist/illustrator here in England. Many kudos to him for such a sweet portrayal of a little giraffe who longs to be just half a head taller.
If you’ve ever wished to be a teensy bit stronger or a wee bit faster or a smidge different from who you are, this book’s for you.
Enjoy it folks!
(Except you guys in England. for some reason it’s not on sale there yet. But nevermind!)
xx
Guess who’s in the window?
Look what my dad found in the window of the lovely Owl and Turtle Bookshop in Camden, Maine.
Can’t wait to be there this summer to visit in person 🙂
@owlandturtle
Mona Lisa’s Forehead
Let’s imagine there’s a power cut at the Louvre.
You’re wandering the majestic halls for the first time and you’re hoping to see the Mona Lisa. You’ve heard all about this great painting and you are excited to finally see a masterpiece.
You somehow arrive at the Renaissance section (this Louvre place is huge), and there she is… at the other end of the gallery. This is it, your moment.
You advance.
Then the lights go out.
Da Vinci’s beautiful lady is somewhere in front of you but you can’t see a darn thing.
Of course you brought your keychain flashlight (motto: always prepared), which you power up and shine ahead of you.
And what you see is a forehead. An amazing forehead, mind you. An unparalleled hairline if you do say so yourself, but that’s it. The moment you’ve been waiting for and all you can see is the tippy top of Mona Lisa’s head.
Where’s the enigmatic smile? Where’s the impenetrable stare that follows you as you cross the room?
HOW DO YOU SEE THE BIG PICTURE?
Here’s where critique groups come in. (You knew I had to get to my point some day, right?)
For writers, critique groups are like an extra set of flashlights (okay, ‘torches’ for you Brits).
You may think your story is spot on brill (“A-OK” for you Americans) but maybe you’re just looking at a forehead. What if there’s so much more of the masterpiece to be discovered?
I know it’s scary to have your work read by others (What if they hate it? What it they’re mean to me? What if it actually stinks and they’re just being polite? Self-doubt much anyone?) But critiques can bring so much more to the table than what you originally wrote. Some of it might be as useless as Madame Lisa’s elbow but some might shine a light on that little part of the upper lip that curves delicately into a cheeky smirk. And KAPOW! You have a better book.
Dare I say….masterpiece?
So get out there and show your work to people. Heck, the postman probably has an opinion, right? You never know who might help you turn your spotty forehead into a Renaissance triumph.
(Too much? yeah, well, I’m just going to roll with it.)
xJ
Wishing You and Yours…
… a festive yet relaxing, entertaining yet snuggly, rip-roaring yet storm-free, exotic yet homey, and most of all joyous and positive holiday.
Read lots of books, drink copious amounts of tea, raise whirlwinds and enjoy life.
Making Your Story “Less Lame”
George Saunders wrote the following paragraphs in the Guardian and I’m posting it here to remind us all how writing is all about re-writing. And how important it is to edit your own work rather than just assuming that the first draft is the final draft just because it’s written down. And how to add specific details to really delve into the minds of the characters.
(It’s not kid lit related, but relevant nonetheless.)
… “When I write, “Bob was an a**hole,” and then, feeling this perhaps somewhat lacking in specificity, revise it to read, “Bob snapped impatiently at the barista,” then ask myself, seeking yet more specificity, why Bob might have done that, and revise to, “Bob snapped impatiently at the young barista, who reminded him of his dead wife,” and then pause and add, “who he missed so much, especially now, at Christmas,” – I didn’t make that series of changes because I wanted the story to be more compassionate. I did it because I wanted it to be less lame.
But it is more compassionate. Bob has gone from “pure a**hole” to “grieving widower, so overcome with grief that he has behaved ungraciously to a young person, to whom, normally, he would have been nice”. Bob has changed. He started out a cartoon, on which we could heap scorn, but now he is closer to “me, on a different day”.
How was this done? Via pursuit of specificity. I turned my attention to Bob and, under the pressure of trying not to suck, my prose moved in the direction of specificity, and in the process my gaze became more loving toward him (ie, more gentle, nuanced, complex), and you, dear reader, witnessing my gaze become more loving, might have found your own gaze becoming slightly more loving, and together (the two of us, assisted by that imaginary grouch) reminded ourselves that it is possible for one’s gaze to become more loving.” …
To read the full article, go HERE .
Wannabes
There are a lot of wannabes out there.
And Maybe if I had the time…
And Someday I’ll…
I’ve talked to quite a few people lately who say that they’ve always wanted to write a children’s book. That they have a story inside them. But that’s where it ends. They talk about it, think about it, complain about it, dream about it — but don’t DO it.
Why not?
Fear about not being good enough? Fear that they don’t know how? Fear of feeling silly or stupid or dumb?
There is really only one way to get over all of those anxieties.
Use the immortal words of Nike. Put the fears to rest. Just do it.
And yes, you might feel stupid, and yes you might think your story is dumb. But nobody starts out perfect. And to be honest, nobody ends up perfect either. I have nearly fifty children’s book manuscripts that I’ve started — thinking they were amazing ideas — and then realised that some plot detail didn’t work, or the story had been written before and wasn’t unique, or I just fell out of love with the idea.
These are not failures. I might return to some of those manuscripts in the future, or use bits of them in other stories. But if I hadn’t written them down I would have nothing.
Don’t have nothing.
Get those stories down on paper. Out of your head. Crap or not.
(The mantra above my desk is a not-so-child-friendly Anne Lamott quote: “Sh*tty first drafts.”)
Stop being a wannabe and start being a writer. And maybe nothing will happen with those stories –you’ll put them in your desk where they’ll languish for years. Or maybe something wonderful will happen, and you’ll be reading your books to your grandkids someday. But you’ll never know unless you get out that pencil or quill or keyboard and write it down.
Just do it.
