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Have you ever read THE END by David LaRochelle? (illustrated by Richard Egielski)
It’s incredibly clever! Mr. LaRochelle spins a fairytale in reverse. He begins at the end and ends at the beginning. There’s all the fairytale flavor you’d expect—a princess, a knight, a dragon—plus some sweet lemonade as a bonus.
This picture book was in heavy bedtime rotation when my kids were little. And it also inspired me to revise my own work backwards, turning lemons into lemonade.
I often get stuck in my manuscripts at the middle. Maybe you do, too. Sure, it’s where the bulk of the story takes place, but it feels like it can be purposefully pedestrian, walking from point A, to point B, to ho-hum let’s-get-on-with-it C.
Yikes, I don’t want my audience to be lulled to sleep! But as a writer, I have so much more fun writing the opening and the closing. Those scenes can really pack a whack.
So sometimes when I’m stuck in the middle, I decide to work backwards. If I have a genius idea for the conclusion, I’ll write that first. Then I ask myself, how would you logically get here? What happened one step ago?
Then I write that part.
I go from C, to B, and then back farther to A. Somehow the logic of the story falls magically into place that way.
What happened right BEFORE this scene? What makes the most sense to occur PRIOR? These simple questions can really free up your work. It’s one of my revision go-tos, inspired by THE END. (Thanks, David!)
Do you want more revision tips?
I filmed a revision video of my best ideas for Karen Ferreira’s 2025 Children’s Book Mastery Summit. It begins next week, July 28. You can check it out using my link here.
Other writing experts like Charnaie Gordon, John Fox, Brooke Van Sickle, April M. Cox, Cameron Sutter (Plottr), Vicky Weber, Joe Bunting (The Write Practice), and Daniel David Wallace will also share their expertise with you during this event.
Is this the end? Nope. It’s just the beginning (or middle) of your kidlit publication journey. I hope you’ll join me!
You may be wondering…
…where’s Tara?
Or you may not be. Let’s be real, everyone has a lot going on.
But…
Well, as fine as someone with PPMS can be! I’ve had many health challenges lately, including extreme exhaustion, and I’m not looking for sympathy, just letting you know that it’s slow going over here. But I have managed to start the long-overdue daily Storystorm prizes!
Day 1 Winner: MONA PEASE
Day 2 Winners: GREENGIRLBLUEPLANET (MORGAN LAU), LYNN BALDWIN, CAROLYNSCOMBS
Day 3 Winner: JAN MILUSICH
Day 4 Winner: HELEN WATERS
Day 5 Winners: GWENDOLYN HOLBROW, JACQUELINE ADAMS, MARLENE ROHR
CONGRATULATIONS! Everyone will be contacted via email.
More winners to come this week!
Phew! It’s about time!
Today we are celebrating the author/illustrator debut of Erika Lynne Jones, ZARA IN THE MIDDLE, a multi-generational picture book about finding your voice and the strength of family. You may be familiar with her other illustrated works, such as THE LOUD LIBRARIAN or BLACK GIRLS: A Celebration of You! Now she is also be a published author.
Congratulations on your author-illustrator debut, Erika. Tell us about ZARA IN THE MIDDLE.
The story is about Zara who loves living next door to her Grandma Jane and Granny Gladys, but sometimes it’s tough being stuck in the middle of them! Both her grandmas think they know what’s best for her, and Zara is too worried she might upset them if she says what she really wants.
For context I’ll add that the three main characters are planning Zara’s birthday party, which for me adds emotion, tension and fun to the dynamic. I look forward to hearing how others relate to the story and what kinds of memories it invokes.
Is there anything in this story inspired by real life?
Yes, the story incorporates some pretty big aspects of my childhood and adult life. Zara is very much me on the inside growing up and some of those remnants remain today. I would be so concerned about everyone else being happy, and specifically happy with me, that I wouldn’t voice my truth.
While I wrap the story in humor, not feeling free to voice my opinions about things was actually quite heavy. But writing was therapeutic because I got to imagine the good that would have come out of finding my voice earlier in life. And maybe in the process, I got to leave some hints for caretakers about opportunities to stop and check in with less vocal little ones about what’s on their mind and in their hearts.
In my adult life, I’ve been blessed with one of the best moms and one of the best mother-in-laws that a person could have. When we first became a family, I noticed they expressed themselves differently, but at the same time had similar intentions to love and support us. It was fun to exaggerate aspects of their personalities to tell a heartwarming story. So yes, I had lots of real-life inspiration in this story.
Erika’s mother-in-law & mother having holiday fun
What Easter Eggs/personal touches did you add to the illustrations and text?
I had a blast infusing some of the personality traits of my mom and mother-in-law into the grandma characters. My late mother had an affinity for drinking—and recommending—prune juice and wearing pearls like Grandma Jane. Also my mother-in-law LOVES baking and makes a mean poundcake just like Granny Gladys. I thought it would be fun to have her contribute to the book, so I had her hand write one of the recipe cards in one of the spreads for me.
Did you have any “ah-ha” moments when writing?
I did actually… I was preparing for a talk I now do called “Illuminating You in the Picture Books You’re Creating”, where I encourage writers and illustrators to look at their childhood books for clues about what kinds of stories they might want to create.
While preparing for that talk, I realized I was subconsciously influenced quite a bit by books I loved reading when I was a child when creating the storyline and illustrations. For example, I loved reading Big Dog… Little Dog by P.D. Eastman. Something about the way he contrasted the characters’ traits and personalities to create tension with words and simple images enthralled me, and of course, it all worked out. I realized I did the same with Zara’s grandmothers by showing the beauty in their differences, and likewise, it all works out. Also, I found the first short story I wrote when I was five or six, and I mean it was SHORT. I found it in the back of a book called My Book About Me, which was an interactive book by Dr. Suess and Roy McKie. It just so happened to be about me having a birthday party (just like Zara). So I thought, “What synchronicity!”
What’s your favorite spread or moment in the book?
That’s tough, but I do think it’s the messy kitchen scene. I enjoyed incorporating my sense of humor into this climactic, chaotic moment. Zara’s grandmas got so carried away with their own agendas that they literally and figuratively overwhelmed her. I also had fun drawing all the little kitchen things.
One lesson I learned during the revision process was to look out for ways readers might misinterpret a book’s words and art. I tweaked the original sketch of the kitchen scene because my editors and art directors were concerned that it could be perceived that the grannies dumped flour on Zara. That was not my intention! I didn’t want the scene to pull readers from the story or take away from the story’s heart. So I revised the scene to show the family love and support, even though the grannies initially expressed it in an overwhelming way.
You can see the re-draw made for a much better flow in the spread, so ultimately the change was a win-win!
Thank you for all the behind the scenes fun, Erika!
ZARA IN THE MIDDLE releases July 8, 2025 from HarperCollins. The book is available for pre-order everywhere, but if you’d like a signed copy or other FREE Zara goodies, visit Erika’s website to learn more about her pre-order giveaway.
And we also have a giveaway right here! Comment with who you’d like to share this story with and why. A random winner will be selected to receive a signed copy of ZARA IN THE MIDDLE at the end of July!
Good luck!
When I was pregnant with my second child, I read my young daughter many “New Baby and Big Sister” books. Sing-songy books about how being a big sister is the best thing in the world! Factual books about how babies grow and are born. And more than a few books about how being a big sister is a job—complete with the responsibilities of finding Mommy clean diapers and playing quietly when the baby sleeps! (Woohoo!)
While each of these titles proved helpful in their own way, I found myself on a search for a book that emphasized the many facets of siblinghood as a lifelong bond. I wanted to read my daughter a story that recognized the unique experiences siblings share—a book filled with the kinds of moments siblings laugh about together even as adults, from squabbling and mischief-making to teaming together and resolving conflicts.
I knew the Beverly Cleary quote, “If you don’t see the book you want on the shelves, write it.”
Chock-full of hormones and fueled by ample adorable new baby + sibling moments, it was a joy to write BECAUSE OF YOU, I’M A SISTER.
Here’s the amazing cover featuring art by the incredibly talented illustrator, Lisa Chow:
Like me, Lisa is a sister and a mother of two girls. Her style is quirky. Her humor is dry. She gets excited about ideas and runs with them in a flurry of color and swirl. I’d really like to get coffee with her. And I’d also like for you to hear from her in this cover reveal post!
Thanks Jen! I would love a coffee! Anytime!
When this manuscript came across my desk, I knew it was meant to be. As a big sister and now mother of sisters, I could immediately picture all the silly and sweet and downright annoying moments I wanted to capture in this book.
For example, I definitely got my start in art by practicing on my childhood home’s living room walls. And as a big sister to two little brothers, I had to learn how to split desserts into thirds. Thirds! Do you know how hard that is?!
But my most favorite illustration in the book is a four-act story of misunderstanding and betrayal over cupcakes. You’ll have to read the book to find it!
We cannot express how lucky we feel that this story resonated with Frances Gilbert and Elizabeth Tardiff at Doubleday Books for Young Readers. They took the humor and heart in the story and amplified it, literally making dreams come true. They made Because of You, I’m a Sister an ideal gift for baby showers, new big sisters, and even grown-up siblings.
We hope you love the final product as much as we do!
BECAUSE OF YOU, I’M A SISTER is available for pre-order now for a February 10, 2026 release.
Jen Fier Jasinski
is giving away either a 30-minute AMA virtual session or a copy of the book (winner’s choice) to TWO blog readers!
Please leave a comment to enter and two winners will be randomly chosen at the end of July!
Good luck!
We’ve got THREE Grand Prizes this year!
Before I announce who they are, here’s what everyone should do with all their story ideas on a regular basis:
Firstly, please gather your ideas.
Then, sort them.
- Separate pebbles from seeds.
- Sift for diamonds.
- Do your ideas pass the litmus tests?
- You may have to draw a diagram first.
Once you have ideas that you like, start fleshing them out. If you’re a Grand Prize winner, you’ll have the opportunity to share your BEST FIVE IDEAS with a kidlit agent (or Tara). They’ll respond with feedback recommending which ideas may be best to pursue as manuscripts. (Saves time writing stories that won’t be marketable!) To present your ideas in the best light, I recommend writing them out like jacket flap…you know, that marketing copy on the inside cover of a picture book. Here’s jacket flap for my June 2025 release, FLAT CAT, THE CLASS PET:
Flat Cat was born flat. He wasn’t squashed under the lunch lady’s rolling pin. He wasn’t smushed by an avalanche of library books. He was just flat. And most of the time, Flat Cat liked it just like that.
Until one day, when Flat Cat, in the mood for a change of scenery, slips into his friend Willow’s backpack and accompanies her to school, where he gets folded into a paper airplane, passed as a secret note, and used as a bathroom pass. Will Flat Cat be able to escape the chaos? Or will he realize he is keen to be loved and adored?
Go to your local library (which may be in your own house) and read as many jacket flaps as you can to get a feel for them. You can also read jacket flap marketing text online at book retailers.
Then start writing your own for your upcoming masterpieces! If you’re a GRAND PRIZE winner, five of these pitches are what you’ll present to receive feedback.
Without further ado, here are the three winners!
Melissa Morgenlander (paired with Liza Royce Agency)
Shuba Mohan (paired with Stephen Fraser)
ET Charles [bethsbiblio] (paired with Tara Lazar)
I will be emailing you this week to arrange your prizes. Then I will be announcing the daily prizes.
I’ve been dealing with various health issues this year, so I appreciate your patience!
Can you believe I’m still fighting off infections? Yeah, and I also had my latest immune-suppressant infusion. So it’s beat it back, let it in, beat it back, let it in again over here.
Whilst you still await Storystorm prize distribution, here’s another Flash Fiction piece that my mentee and soon-to-be-debut-author Arlene Shenker requested. Remember, this is for adults, not children. Please enjoy!
The Puppet
©2020-2025 by Tara Lazar
Rory and Jane met on the set of a cough syrup commercial, performing as cold germ puppets. Ironically, Jane got sick immediately after the wrap. Rory brought her homemade chicken and dumplings, his grandma’s recipe. Of course, Jane couldn’t let a man who could cook and skillfully wield a rhinovirus marionette slip past.
Their common circle of friends, a small, insular puppetry group, marveled at how they had somehow missed meeting for years. Rory exited an off-Broadway production right before Jane landed the lead role. Jane apprenticed in Los Angeles at the same time Rory worked in Studio City. When Jane zigged, Rory had zagged. Finally, they smacked into each other and stuck like Velcro.
After moving into their new apartment, though, Rory panicked.
“Have you seen Mr. Fuhgeddaboudit?” he asked, rummaging through boxes and bubble wrap.
Rory loved that puppet and performed with it at every opportunity. He brought it to Jane’s nephew’s birthday party. He wrote an autobiographical one-man show featuring Mr. Fuhgeddaboudit. Rory even proposed to Jane with the help of his signature character.
“He wasn’t with the others?” Jane pointed to the collective of puppets sitting upon the couch.
“No, I kept him separate! His own box. And I marked it up like crazy!” Rory had moved past upset to frantic, his voice rising an octave.
“Okay, Honey, calm down. I’m sure he’s here.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! He’s the first puppet I ever made. I was nine!”
“I know, I know. We’ll find him.”
“He’s the entire reason I became a puppeteer. He’s the entire reason we met!”
Jane had never seen this side of Rory, manic and unhinged. Normally he acted as a steady presence in stressful situations, defusing irate directors. He could reassure a cast before opening curtain, calming stage fright. Demanding producers took a step back to reevaluate after hearing Rory’s logical solutions.
But now he was tearing the apartment apart, slamming cupboards, ripping boxes open in eruptions of packing peanuts. Every soothing word Jane offered was met with contempt and rage.
“Why aren’t you looking?” Rory yelled. “Don’t sit there! Look! Help me look!”
“Honey, there’s only two rooms. We’ve gone through it all.”
Suddenly Rory stopped and turned to her in slow motion, red-faced.
“I knew it!” he said, pointing at Jane.
“You knew what?”
“It was you!”
“Me? What are you talking about?”
“You never liked Mr. Fuhgeddaboudit!” Rory exclaimed. “So you took him. You stole him from me. Where did you put him? Where, Jane? Tell me where!”
Jane stood up, ramrod straight, blindsided by Rory’s accusation.
“Honey!” she said. “You’re upset. You’re not thinking straight.”
“Or you sold him! Oh my God, you sold him to that hack Jimmy MacEnery!”
“Jimmy who?”
“Or a pawn shop! That seedy little performer’s pawnshop off The Strip.”
“Las Vegas?”
“Do you know another ‘Strip’?”
“No, but Honey, I haven’t been to Vegas in years.”
“Aha!” Rory yelled. “So you know the pawnshop I’m talking about!”
Jane sunk to the floor. This is why people live together before getting married. This sh*t, right here. Except it hadn’t even been 24 hours.
Rory marched to the contingent on the couch, lifted each puppet, looked underneath, peered inside, then tossed them into a pile. But these weren’t a toddler’s playthings, these were custom, professional puppets, worth thousands of dollars each.
“Honey, don’t be so flip with the puppets!” Jane gathered each one and propped them back into sitting position. They stared at her with wide eyes, as if they, too, couldn’t believe the unraveling of Rory.
He grabbed his coat and shoved his arms in.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to get out of here!”
“I’ll come with you,” Jane said.
Rory pulled on a wool beanie, thrust his hands into his jeans, closed his eyes and sighed. His rough face softened ever so slightly, enough for Jane to feel assured pulling on her jacket and following him out.
By the time they reached the street, down five flights of stairs, Rory had cooled and Jane was able to slip her arm around his waist. They turned west and walked in silence for several blocks, matching each other’s rhythm.
“I don’t know what happened up there,” Rory confessed. It was true. He felt driven by some imaginary force, a sudden and gripping fear that robbed him of all control.
“It’s okay, Honey.” Jane looked at him but Rory stared straight ahead. “I know how much that puppet means to you.”
“I know you do,” he said. “But you mean more.”
That was all they said. Rory and Jane maintained a companionable silence back to their new building. Although the apartment was a fifth-floor walkup, it was halfway between the theatre district and the television studios where they did the bulk of their work. They loved the large windows, the recently remodeled stainless steel and concrete kitchen, and Jane was in awe of the garbage chute and incinerator. First thing that morning she had shoved Mr. Fuhgeddaboudit down, relieved she’d never have to see that stupid f***ing puppet ever again.
by Jen Fier Jasinski
After only three months and six drafts writing SIDEWALK CHALK, I received a critique from a big-name agent that said: “I’m sorry to say that I am drawing a complete blank on how this might be improved.”
I gasped.
I danced.
I queried that sucker.
I got rejected for another three years and fifteen revisions. Ah, publishing.
SIDEWALK CHALK breaks some rules. The most notable being that the manuscript is mostly illustration notes. That early “unimprovable” draft had only thirty-three words of text… and 691 words of art notes! I am an author-only and have taken many writing courses that (rightfully) advise writers to keep art notes spare, only include those that move the plot forward, and always leave room for the illustrator to add to the story.
So, yeah, 691 words of art notes felt like a risk.
But I didn’t cut them. Actually, I ended up adding more. Why? Because so much of my story idea hung in the art. The characters’ actions, not dialogue, tell this story. The setting foreground and background are integral to the plotline. The weather and chalk pile are near-characters that hold the story’s stakes and tension. In short, those heavy art notes served the story. (Importantly, I became assured of this through additional agent critiques, personalized rejections, and Revise & Resubmit (R&R) requests.)
My story was hitting. My text was not.
SIDEWALK CHALK’s premise has a classic, atmospheric tone. I ultimately realized the text needed to match it. R&Rs made this clear as they encouraged me to build the musicality of the text through more onomatopoeia, then later through internal assonance and alliteration.
Eventually, it worked:
After a box of chalk is plunked on the sidewalk, a shy child watches as neighborhood children come together to—Scribble! Scratch! and Scrawl! – transforming the plain path into a vibrant storyscape. Just as the child finds the courage to join them—Plip! Plop! Splat!—a storm sends them running, threatening their new friendship and their creation.
SIDEWALK CHALK celebrates creativity, collaboration and community.
I am thrilled SIDEWALK CHALK landed in capable, caring hands at Gnome Road Publishing! Illustrator Lea Marie Ravotti has created a precious neighborhood of kids and even though I had heavy notes, I am so impressed with how she added her own spin and sweet style to the story! I am extremely pleased with the ultimate result (60 words of text and 743 words of art notes for those curious,) and I hope readers will be, too.
SIDEWALK CHALK is now available for preorder where most books are sold, for a September 23, 2025 release.
Jen is giving away either a 30-minute AMA virtual session or a copy of the book (winner’s choice) to TWO blog readers! Please leave a comment to enter and two winners will be randomly chosen at the end of the month! Good luck!
Jen Fier Jasinski spent much of her childhood reading books and imagining new worlds. Unwilling to let go of Story Time, she grew up to become a teacher, mother, and author. Now Jen writes stories with elements of humor, heart, and above all, play. She is the author of My Piano (2023), Sidewalk Chalk (2025), My Violin (2026) and Because of You, I’m a Sister (2026). My Piano earned a starred review from School Library Journal.
When she’s not writing, Jen can be found on the sidewalks of Burke, Virginia running or playing with her kids.
So as typically happens this time of year, I’ve been sick. So I’m just going to chalk February up to a loss and get to your Storystorm prizes in March. I am still recruiting agents for your Storystorm Grand Prizes, where you’ll receive feedback on your 5 best story ideas, to help you determine which to pursue as manuscripts and submissions.
Speaking of submissions, I am sharing a Flash Fiction story I wrote during the pandemic that I cannot seem to place anywhere, so I am publishing it here instead. This is an original story and I hope you enjoy! (Be forewarned, it’s for adults, not kiddos.)
The Neighbors
©2020-2025 by Tara Lazar
We were forced to write the neighbors about the beast.
Louise and I had promised it refuge in our basement in exchange for sparing our family. It assured us that if we kept supplying it with deer and possum, it would remain sated. There would be no need to torment the town. However, it has spent the last week digging passageways to the other homes.
Our son warned us that a beast cannot be believed, and we should have listened. But you don’t heed the kid with straight-Ds who wears t-shirts emblazoned with “Whoof Arted”. Meanwhile, our daughter, the good child, was devoured a month ago. Once again, our fault for the misplaced trust.
“What shall the letter say?” my wife asked.
“How about this,” I replied, pen in hand. “Dear neighbors, it has come to our attention that—”
“No, no, you can’t begin that way. They’ll think we’re telling them to power wash their vinyl siding again. They won’t read past the first line.”
“Then it’s really their fault if they can’t read a simple letter,” I said.
“Use powerful language, Chester. Write it like your clean-up-after-your-pet notice.”
“I won’t swear again, Louise.”
“Of course not, dear. Just be direct. Like your lawn-mowing letter.”
“I’ve got it,” I said, clearing my throat. “Dear neighbors, a beast has infiltrated our neighborhood.”
“Oh, excellent, darling. But shouldn’t you make it clear that you don’t mean Mrs. Stubbs?”
“Good point. Dear neighbors, an inhuman beast has infiltrated our neighborhood.”
“Wonderful! That’s a fine start,” Louise said. “Shall I make us some tea?”
“Spot on. Writing makes me thirsty.”
We composed a letter both urgent and actionable, without being too alarming. We agreed that Mr. Rasmussen, our eldest neighbor, was too fragile to read such a missive, given that his wife had recently passed, so we invited him to dinner instead. We could deliver the news with hearty helpings of Louise’s pot roast and Dutch apple pie, softening the blow.
*****
“We’ve been meaning to have you over for a while,” Louise said, leading Mr. Rasmussen to the dining room. “We were sorry to hear about Mrs. Rasmussen. What a special soul, volunteering at the hospital all those years.”
“Much obliged, Mr. and Mrs. Smythe. Awful kind of you.”
“Please, call us Chester and Louise. And you remember our son, Devin.”
“Goodness gracious. He’s sure grown! Bigger than his father now.”
An intense growl emerged from deep beneath the house, rumbling through the floor in magnificent waves. We held our collective breath, waiting for Mr. Rasmussen’s reaction. He just blinked and asked to use the restroom.
“Do you think he’s going deaf?” Louise asked. “Does he have nerve damage in his feet?”
“I don’t think he’s diabetic,” I replied.
“Well, if he heard or felt that, he didn’t flinch!”
“Good. Maybe this won’t be so difficult after all.”
We worked through the meal with light conversation and waited until we were warm and satisfied to broach the subject. Some things are better discussed on a full stomach.
*****
“I don’t believe you,” Mr. Rasmussen replied.
“I know this is a shock, but it’s living in our basement and it has carved underground routes to every house on King Drive,” I said. “It will pluck you one-by-one from your beds and devour you complete.”
Mr. Rasmussen crossed his arms. “How come you haven’t been devoured?”
“It got to Penelope, the poor dear.” Louise dabbed a napkin under her eye.
“I see,” said Mr. Rasmussen, leaning back. “I still don’t believe you.”
“My God, man! This is no time to be a contrarian!”
“Chester,” Louise said, placing a hand upon my forearm, “we said we were going to be calm and gentle with our guest.”
“Right. My apologies,” I said in a soft tone. “Please understand. This beast is a serious threat.”
“Let’s go see it, then,” said Mr. Rasmussen.
“Pardon me?”
“You’ve got a beast in your basement. Let’s take a look.” He pushed his chair back and stood up.
“I don’t think you comprehend the gravity of this. Going down there is dangerous. I wouldn’t advise it.”
“Hell, I’ve got a lawyer. He advises me, not you.” Mr. Rasmussen started toward the cellar door. “Let me see this thing. I’ll decide for myself if we should run for the hills.”
I blocked his path. “Mr. Rasmussen, I strongly urge you not to open that door.”
He reached for the doorknob and I reacted on a primal level, pushing both hands against his chest, sending him flying backward.
“Chester!” Louise screamed.
Mr. Rasmussen landed with a thwack, slamming his head against the tile floor.
The clamor of the disturbed beast rattled beneath us and the floor seemed to breathe.
The beast galloped up the stairs, thrashing against the walls, snarling and spitting, emitting a brutal heat. Twisting and heaving, it screeched with a sickening sharp note that sounded as if all eternity’s nightmares had joined forces. Then in a flash it dissolved into a tar-like puddle of infinite depth. The liquid bubbled and boiled and from within its abyss emerged a plump, grandmotherly figure with yellow-white hair.
“Mrs. Rasmussen?!”
“You remember my wife, Gertie,” Mr. Rasmussen said, rising, his bashed-in head dripping blood. “Surprising, given you never had us over for supper.”
“Oh, Gerald,” Mrs. Rasmussen slapped at her husband playfully. “Be nice. The Smythes were kind enough to let me stay in their roomy basement.”
“I hope they kept you comfortable, sweetheart.”
“Yes, quite! But I must apologize for the teenage girl. I’m afraid I got carried away that day.”
Mr. Rasmussen proffered his arm and the elderly couple strolled across the living room to the front door, trailing tar and blood.
“Now then,” he said, turning to us, “maybe next time you’ll think twice before sending us another rude letter. We’ll power wash when we damn want to power wash and not a moment sooner.”
The End
©2020-2025 by Tara Lazar
by Heidi EY Stemple
My new book begins, The night before play rehearsals began, Janie couldn’t sleep.
It is now just days before my new book comes out, and like Janie, I can’t sleep. Not because I am nervous. Like Janie before the play, I can’t sleep because I am excited! I know. I know. I am not supposed to pick a favorite book. This one is, in fact, my 42nd published book. But, the subject of this book does mean it is just a little more special than the others. But, don’t tell them. I don’t want their feelings hurt! Little Janie grew up to be Jane Yolen—my mom, author of close to 450 books, mostly for children, including the Caldecott winning OWL MOON and the NYT best-selling HOW DO DINOSAURS series. It’s her origin story. It’s about her first big success as a writer. And it’s as true as anyone could write a story about someone who tells stories for a living. So, while I filled in some fuzzy details to make a book, it all hangs on the armature of the stories she has been telling me for years.
While it is clear now that my mom was always going to become a writer, there are many things that happened in her past that helped make that eventuality a reality. Firstly, her parents allowed her free access to all the books in the house. She read widely, even stuff she was too young to understand. She always credits this literary freedom as the beginning of her love of stories—especially fairy tales, adventure stories, anything Arthurian, and Alice In Wonderland. This free access to books also, she says, broadened her vocabulary and made her reach for new and interesting words and language at a very young age.
Another aspect of her early childhood as a writer that was important to add into the story was her teacher, Mrs. Jiler. “She was one of the very best teachers I ever had. She was wonderful. I don’t even think she knew how wonderful she was.” When I asked what made her the best, my mom didn’t hesitate. “She listened to the children. She encouraged us to be smarter and better. I think that how I teach writing now has a lot to do with how Mrs. Jiler ran her classroom. Everyone had a chance to do their very best—to do something great.”
And, wow, did she do something great.
What’s it feel like, trying to honor the woman who is considered America’s Hans Christian Andersen (“Hans Jewish Andersen,” she corrects) with a picture book about her? Daunting. But, it helps that she likes it. In fact, I first read the manuscript to her when she was recovering from surgery. I hadn’t told her I was working on it, so it was a complete surprise. After a page or two, she smiled and said “I’m little Janie!” When I finished, we talked about the details that I had fleshed out from pure imagination. She told me about Mrs. Jiler and more about her neighborhood. She confirmed things and recited all the names of her classmates, some of whom made it into the book. I removed the stuff I made up and added in real facts.
I presented the manuscript to editor Yolanda Scott at Charlesbridge. She seemed to like the idea when I handed it to her (yes—a physical manuscript!) but, recently I asked her what she really thought. I’m not sure I was prepared for her answer! “I thought—oh no—a family anecdote. What are the chances it’s a picture book?” Thankfully, Yo didn’t stop there. “My second thought once I read it: Wow—a family anecdote that makes for a great picture book story about becoming a writer! Written by one accomplished writer in tribute of her accomplished writer-mom! The marketing campaign wrote itself for this one.” This is exactly why I chose Yo as my one and only submission.
On to the revision… The hardest part of writing this book was the revision. My mom has been making me revise my work since I was in elementary school. I am, to be sure, an experienced revisor (revisionist?). I consider it my superpower and lecture on the process. But, in this book, I got stuck. I tried. I worked with Yolanda’s astute notes. I struggled. I made changes. I kicked the wall. I cried. I talked to my friends and critique partners. Then, I did the smart thing—I talked to my mom. I said, “I can’t do it. I don’t think Yo likes the book. I think she is sorry she bought it. She wants an entirely different book.” And my mom said—wise woman that she is—“talk to Yo.”
I emailed Yo and said “I don’t think you like this book. I think you wish you didn’t buy this book.” She called me within 10 minutes. Yo is wise, too. She said to me, “Heidi, this is revision. It’s supposed to be hard. But, this is a book about someone you love, so it’s even harder. I love this book and readers will love this book. You’ll get it.” I love surrounding myself with smart women. After that, I did get it.
When Madelyn Goodnight agreed to illustrate the book, I sent her pictures of my mom and of New York City in the 1940s. I even found a picture of the building my mom lived in. We counted the windows. Yo said of choosing Madelyn as the artist, “Maddie’s art is stunning and we loved her work in Traci Sorell’s Powwow Day. She’s lovely to work with, and I had a feeling she’d bring the historical backdrop of Manhattan in the 1940s to life in way that would engage today’s readers. Maddie is a member of the Chickasaw Nation, and as a publisher I’m committed to bringing Native voices to market, not only for books with Native content. I’m so pleased with the visual look of the book and can’t imagine another art style doing it justice.” See—smart women.
And now it’s a book!
Did I mention I’m excited?
How does my mom feel about this book? It comes out on her birthday, February 11, and we are celebrating with two birthday party book launches—first on pub day at The Silver Unicorn Bookstore (Acton, MA) and then at High Five Books (Florence, MA). I hope she feels honored.
My favorite “Jane-ism” (which is what her students call nuggets of wisdom she spits out without even thinking) is this:
“The storyteller in me asks: what if? And when I try to answer that, a story begins.”
So, what if I wrote a book about my mom as a child…
It’s where her story began and the book begins.
Love you JY!!
~xoxoHeidi
Heidi EY Stemple is giving away a 30-minute AMA session. Leave one comment below to enter!
Good luck!
Heidi didn’t want to be a writer when she grew up. In fact, after she graduated from college, she became a probation officer in Florida. It wasn’t until she was 28 years old that she gave in and joined the family business, publishing her first short story in a book called Famous Writers and Their Kids Write Spooky Stories. The famous writer was her mom, author Jane Yolen. Since then, she has published more than thirty-five books and numerous short stories and poems, mostly for children.
Heidi lives and writes on a big old farm in Massachusetts that she shares with a dozen deer, a family of bears, three coyotes, two bobcats, a gray fox, a red fox, tons of birds, and some very fat groundhogs. Once a year she calls and counts owls for the Audubon Christmas Bird Count. Find her online at HeidiEYStemple.com and on Instagram @heidieys.
by Jena Benton
Now that you’re done with Storystorm and have fistfuls of ideas, I bet you’re wondering what to do with all of them. I like to sift through those jewels once a month until something sparkles at me. That is usually the story that becomes my rough first draft of the month (I try to write at least one new picture book manuscript every month). But let me caution you on one thing (which might seem obvious): don’t let your ideas become set in stone. They don’t need to be perfect little baubles you never adjust. Let me explain.
It was through a Storystorm idea and my writing process that I actually stumbled into my very first published picture book. And when I say stumbled, I do mean it was definitely NOT a straight line to success.
I have been faithfully participating in StoryStorm annually for so many years now that I’ve lost count. Let’s just say it was back in the “good old days” when it had a much different name and happened in November. In January of 2019, there was a brilliant graphic reshared from 2013. (See it here (it’s huge)!
One of the idea prompts (i.e., #4) was to think of your most embarrassing moment. This was the first idea gem of my book. I instantly remembered when I was in Elementary school, and I performed on stage (possibly for the school’s talent show—details are fuzzy). My dad had helped me to memorize a poem by my favorite poet for this event and I was excited to share it. I think I may have even started to recite the poem on stage, BUT when I saw all those faces staring back at me, I froze in sheer terror. I never finished the poem and I’m pretty sure someone had to come and get me off the stage too. Thinking back on that event, I wrote a draft about a Talent Show contest, but … today there are no prizes for school talent show contestants. And when everyone wins there isn’t any conflict.
Was the idea broken? It had certainly lost its luster. How in the world did I fix that? Then I examined the idea in a new light and it sparkled once more. I wondered if I could change the setting. What animal character would need to be “on stage” to perform in front of others? The answer hit me as clear as a ray of sunshine: a rooster crowing! They perform daily! But what if it was a young rooster trying to crow like his dad. And what if he also suffered from stage fright the first time he had to perform in front of all the farm yard animals?
I wrote another draft of this very concept, full of chicken-y facts I had researched. I revised it a few times until it flowed smoothly, then showed it to an illustrator friend of mine. She read it and was brave enough to tell me it would never sell. There were too many barn yard stories already out there with a similar plot. My idea once again lost its shine as if I had dropped it in the mud. I realized she was right. Maybe that idea was a dud. But I stubbornly didn’t want to give up on my little rooster.
So once again, I picked up my idea, dusted it off, and really examined it under a microscope. This time I asked myself why? Why did I write a story about chickens in the first place? I don’t own any chickens. I never grew up on a farm. I wasn’t a huge collector of chicken paraphernalia. Why had I researched and written a story about them? Then I remembered two things at the same time.
First, I remembered the amazing number of roosters and chickens I had seen on my honeymoon in Hawaii on the island of Kauai. There, more than on any other Hawaiian island, were SO many wild chickens they were called “jungle fowl.” While visiting there, my husband and I had stopped at an overlook to get out and admire the ocean view. We were astonished to see our car immediately surrounded by so many hens with their chicks in tow that we weren’t sure we could leave (they were even under the car!). When I thought about that event and how all those chickens had come running, I realized it was because a rooster had crowed.
The sparkle was now a stunning blaze of light! Then I thought about what else I needed: to raise my stakes. What if my rooster wasn’t on a farm, but was living free in the wild? What if instead of being called to feed when the farmer came, a wild flock was being called by the rooster when a car stopped just in case there was food? Bingo! Now the gleam was practically a spot light.
Second, I remembered this excellent Storyatorm post on marketability from 2018 by Tara Luebbe.
One of the things Tara Luebbe asked in her post was “are there any [specialty stores] you can envision your book fitting into?” Thanks to many previous trips to Hawaii where I had collected picture books published by a small local press, I knew that there was. Now the idea was sparkling so brightly it was practically a light house beam!
I revised my story from a barnyard to the outdoors in Hawaii, changed my rooster’s name to Kauai (my inspiration), raised the stakes, and voila! I had the perfect story for a small publisher in Hawaii, Island Heritage Press. My book KAUAI’S CALL was published May 2024.
What did I learn?
- Don’t be afraid to do a massive revision by asking yourself what could change. Examine those ideas in a new light.
- Keep going with your idea generation; sometimes ideas need to change to shine better.
If you take one of your sparkly ideas and write it, but your story doesn’t quite work, ask yourself what can I change? If I try it with a different character, does it work better? If I try it with a different setting, does it finally click? Etcetera.
I’ve written quite a few crazy ideas in my StoryStorm notebook that have been like the magical gemstone Alexandrite. By day they can look a beautiful green, and if I only looked for that surface level story, I might miss its other beauty. Because at night, it might shine a purplish red if I looked at it in another light. Don’t be afraid of letting your ideas change. Sometimes that’s where their real beauty can hide.
Jena Benton is a writer and illustration, plus she’s the SCBWI Illustrator Coordinator for the region of Alaska. She lives in Anchorage, Alaska now with her husband and two kitties. Visit her at JenaBenton.com.
Jena Benton is giving away a picture book critique to celebrate her Storystorm success! Just comment once below to enter. Good luck!
Writing for Kids (While Raising Them) 