You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Creative Writing’ category.
How do you know when your manuscript is ready for submission? For some, it’s a gut feeling. But just how do you learn to trust your writer’s intuition?
The support and encouragement of my writing group has helped. I run a picture book manuscript by them three or four times until there’s not much more to be gussied up. And then I tuck that story in my back pocket and wait, creating distance. Weeks later, I iron out the creases.
Months pass. I flip sentences around. And then I flip over in bed all night, over-analyzing the story. I consult the thesaurus and exhaust the synonyms. I belt out the story in my best character voice and listen to how it flows (and someone please tell me why I always slip into a southern accent?). I love reading aloud. That’s the best way for me to check the authenticity of the kid voice, y’all (there I go again). And then, when all that’s left to edit is interrobangs, just when I think I can play endlessly with it for lack of anything better to do, I think it’s time to let it fly.
Or is it?
I understand when experienced authors suggest new writers to take an apprenticeship of two years. Writing improves with practice, and the children’s market has its own set of rules. Moreover, it’s an extremely competitive field with many successful, established authors. To break in these days, not only does your writing have to be crisp, the idea has to be unique. So much has already been done—and done well.
Now, you may believe you have extraordinary talent (don’t we all), but don’t skimp on those two years. Immerse yourself in writing. Read books on the craft, attend conferences, join a critique group, take classes, read best-sellers in your genre. That will always be time well spent, creating a solid foundation from which to launch a career. Think of it as a sling shot: the further you pull yourself into the craft, the further you’ll fling yourself forward.
I subbed four manuscripts out this summer and the rejections are trickling in. Did I submit too early? I admit, I didn’t complete the full two-year apprenticeship before letting go of my stories. Thankfully, I didn’t submit far and wee (little nod to e.e. cummings since it’s so puddle-wonderful outside). I kept the list very small so I could gauge response. And the response tells me I have to improve my gut.
I’m working on it.
I’ve already revised two PBs with a new critique partner, one who really pushes me. I believe in her talent, and she believes in mine. Maybe two guts are better than one.
Before you toss that rejection letter into the fire, consider recycling it. But don’t bundle it with the newspaper and set it on the curb.
Lemons beget lemonade. Paper begets paper beads.
They say the more rejections you accumulate, the closer you are to becoming published. So show off all those “not right for our imprint” letters! Cut them up and roll them into jewelry. This tutorial from Paper University will show you how.
Paper Bead Necklace by radrb8vicki
Who knew rejection could be so beautiful?
[UPDATE 12/10/2012: Also see How to Become a Children’s Book Author and New to Children’s Writing? A To-Do List. ]
A few weeks ago, I blogged about common mistakes new children’s writers make.
What makes me so knowledgeable? Not decades of experience, I admit. I’m new to the market myself (or I was in 2008 when I first wrote this), but I have spent this year immersed in the industry—reading books, attending conferences, participating in a critique group, and writing daily.
Yeah, I remember what it’s like to be brand-spanking new and more bubbly than a Kindergarten teacher on the first day of school. It wasn’t that long ago. I know you’re anxious to get published. I am, too. So let’s get started…
- You’ve got a great idea for a picture book.
Terrific! Congratulations! Take some time to develop that idea. What makes it unique and appealing to children?
- You sit down and write it out.
You are on your way! Keep writing. Like any discipline, you get better with regular practice.
- You give it to your children to read. They love it.
You mean you haven’t edited it yet? Put the story aside and give it some time. You’ll probably think of new ideas and different, clever ways to express your story. And honestly, your children are going to love everything you create. Well, except that experimental limburger and asparagus casserole.
- You give it to your mother. She corrects a grammar mistake but otherwise dubs it “perfect.”
Aww, you gotta love mothers. Unconditional love ’tis a beautiful thing.
- You give it to your neighbor. She thinks it’s wonderful and offers to illustrate it for you.
Unless she’s a professional illustrator, tell her thank you, but a publisher will match your manuscript with an illustrator. Finding an illustrator for your book is your editor’s responsibility, not yours. Your words should sell the story, and it’s possible that any illustrations you send could make a bad impression.
However, if either you or your friend have a professional art background, you should read up on how to submit a picture book dummy.
- You buy a copy of The Children’s Writer’s and Illustrator’s Market.
It’s true that CWIM is an amazing resource, but trust me, you’re not ready for it quite yet. And keep in mind that many smaller publishers, some of the most approachable markets for new writers, are not even listed in CWIM. (They may get overwhelmed by the volume of submissions a listing in CWIM creates.)
- You print out a copy of your story, attach your neighbor’s illustrations to each page and mail it out to every publisher in CWIM.
Every publisher? Phew, that’s a lot. They each have their niche. Are you sure that your manuscript fits with their current list of titles? And have you reviewed each publisher’s submission guidelines? Some have very specific procedures. Don’t get rejected for not following directions.
Successful authors not only write well, they match their manuscript with the right publisher. It’s a little like finding your soulmate—you have to click on a variety of different levels. Some publishers like rhyming stories, some do not. Some enjoy quirky tales, others will cringe at a farting character. Do your research first.
Want to learn more about writing for children? I can’t cover it all here. I’m just one woman. With a husband and two kids who want me to fix lunch. So I’ll just turn you onto these great resources and wish you all the best!
If you were told a piece of express mail was just dumped on your doorstep, sent from the “Bound Company,” what would you think?
Bound Company? As in…bound books? As in…publishing? As in…someone is offering me a contract for one of my picture books?! I didn’t submit anything to Bound, but maybe it’s a subsidiary of a publisher I had contacted.
My husband plucked the bright yellow DHL envelope off our porch and asked me if I was expecting something.
“Who’s it addressed to?”
“It just says Lazar.”
My heart did little flips. I always imagined I’d get a phone call offering me a book deal, but an express letter will do just fine, thankyouverymuch.
I ripped it open without even looking at the address label.
“It’s a bunch of checks, and they’re not for us,” I told my husband, confused.
Turns out, he was saying “Bowne Company,” not Bound. And the checks are for his employees.
Move along now. Nothing to see here.
Have you checked out the amazing, writerly jewelry on Etsy lately? If you want to tell the world that you love writing (beyond the blogosphere), then get one of these conversation starters!
As an aspiring author and mother of two young children, the time spent pursuing my career comes mostly at night, when the kids are asleep. I don’t have a lot of time, so I need to prioritize. Should I revise tonight? Or read? Blog? Research? Submit? I have to decide quickly; I only have thirty-three minutes until midnight. That’s when the baby wakes up. She loves ushering the new day in with a solid wail.
I suppose my choice tonight is to blog. I won’t have time for anything else.
I wonder if blogging is doing me any good. The majority of hits on my blog derive from “tattoo” searches, so who really reads this thing? (Which reminds me to tell you: if you want to pump up your site statistics, definitely slip in a word or two about body ink. Personally, I’ve got an inexplicable thing for Ami James, but I digress.)
Then I tell myself, it doesn’t matter if anyone reads this blog. It’s good writing practice. Even if the writing stinks (and it usually does), at least I’m meeting my daily word count quota.
But for the next few weeks, I’ll have my writing time spoken for. I’ll be busy preparing for the Rutgers University Council on Children’s Literature One-on-One Mentoring Conference (phew, that’s a mouthful, huh?). I have writing samples to polish and questions to prepare for my mentor, whomever that may be. I have my eye on a particular editor, but I doubt I’ll be lucky enough to get paired with that person.
And I feel panic bubbling up inside of me. I don’t know enough about the authors working in my genre, I don’t know enough about the mentors, I don’t know enough about the marketplace. I don’t know enough about comma splices. I need to know more so I can mix and mingle without sounding like a total noob.
But hey–maybe I should mingle with you.
Are you going to the RUCCL One-on-One Mentoring event in October? If so, drop me a note and let’s chat. I’ve got exactly twelve minutes left before the baby alarm goes off.
I bumped into an on-again, off-again writer friend today, which was a surprise, since she seemed to be hovering somewhere above the clouds.
“My novel is going really well,” she said. “I’m going to finish it up soon and send it out!”
Yes, she was planning to submit her first draft.
First, I applauded her enthusiasm. “That’s great!” Then I cautioned her. “But you should really have it critiqued first.”
“No, do you really think so? I don’t think it needs it.”
I explained that most writers don’t have enough distance from their work to see problems in their own manuscripts. The fabulous ideas in our heads are not always executed clearly on paper. Because the story is unclouded in our minds, we don’t realize when the paper takes giant leaps (or even small side-steps), losing the reader.
She belonged to my critique organization but quit last year due to her off-again writing status. I encouraged her to return if she was serious about this novel.
“Maybe I’ll just pay someone to critique it.”
A professional critique can indeed be helpful, but a good one can be pricey, so your manuscript should be in a near-submission-ready state. Because you don’t want to have to pay for two (or more) expensive reviews.
“The thing is, I don’t want a lot of people to read it. It’s very personal.”
“But you want to have it published?” I joked and she offered a pseudonym.
“Well, it’s a really great story,” she said. “I’m certain it will get published.”
“I’m sure it is. Everyone thinks their own work is wonderful. Or else we wouldn’t be writing.”
When I suggested some writing books I thought might be helpful, she asked me what a few of the terms meant. That’s when her feet returned to solid ground.
I had to explain that I didn’t want to squash her excitement, I just wanted to prevent her hopes from being squashed. If she sends out a manuscript too soon, before it’s truly ready, she’ll use up her chances with publishers and agents. If they reject something once, they are not going to want to see it again (unless a revision is expressly requested).
It’s terrific to be enthusiastic about your work. Love creating. Love writing. But be realistic, too. The clouds are a fine place hang out once you’ve signed that publishing contract. But keep your feet on the ground until then, pen to paper, writing and revising. And revising some more.
When a character stops talking to me, I have no choice but to ask another to come forward. Like a radio station that goes static across state lines, I must dial the tuner until I find another song worth listening to. And it’s gotta be catchy.
I could force myself to work on a project I’m not feeling, or jump on the current groove. I choose to go where inspiration takes me.
I understand that successful, published authors must learn to multitask. There may be times in the future when several projects will be coming to deadline and I’ll have to channel a myriad of characters. However, being still unpublished, I can follow my fickle desires.
So one middle grade novel that received interest from professionals gets shelved…and a new one begins.
In the meantime, my picture books have been submitted. All three are out looking for homes. Write home soon, won’t you, boys?
For my submissions, I researched publishers to target those with books similar to mine (but not in direct competition) already on their list. Amazon’s “advanced search” function is helpful here, enabling you to search by publisher and age range. If you find a book similar to yours, you may be able to read it on Lookybook immediately instead of running to the library.
If I haven’t blogged recently, you can’t blame a girl who has been writing and submitting her work. Now I must dive into research mode for my current middle grade novel, which includes historic elements that I last studied in grammar school. I need to start getting smarter than a 5th grader!
I have recently learned ’tis a wonderful thing to have an agent request your manuscript, yet the moment becomes bittersweet when you don’t have a completed work to send.
I know a very important rule for writers: don’t attend a pitch session if your manuscript isn’t finished. It’s a waste of time for editors and agents who are attending to find and sign new talent. And it’s just as moot a move for you. No one will take a chance on an unproven fiction writer, no matter how compelling your first page, first chapter or first half of the book is.
The good news is that I did not attend a pitch session. I attended a critique fully expecting to be critiqued. What I got were the words every writer dreams of: “You have to send me your manuscript.” Alas, I cannot send an incomplete work. It’s excellent incentive to keep moving forward with my novel, but disheartening to know that I have every opportunity to louse up a perfectly good half-finished story.
Writing for Kids (While Raising Them) 