Category Archives: Uncategorized

The Craft of Writing

A quote to inspire this week of revisions:

“Craft enables art.

There’s luck in art. There’s the gift. You can’t earn that. You can’t deserve it. But you can learn skill, you can earn it. You can learn to deserve your gift….

To make something well is to give yourself to it, to seek wholeness, to follow spirit. To learn to make something well can take your whole life. It’s worth it.”

– Ursula K. Le Guin, in “Steering the Craft”

This week, when I’m doing so much practicing of my craft, when I’m sitting down to look at the bones of my manuscript and how to make it as fully-formed as possible, I will remember that every writer must hone her skill. Every word I’ve ever written helps me as I face this revision. Doing right by this story means making it – and me – whole. 

I’ll let you know how it goes.


Mr. Tiger Goes Wild – Mock Caldecott Pick #2

A Jaunty Chapeau to a Hawaiian Shirt – Peter Brown’s Mr. Tiger Goes Wild

(The second in my mock Caldecott Award series)

The 2014 Caldecott Award would be best represented by Mr. Tiger Goes Wild by Peter Brown, a story about an anthropomorphized animal who resists his place in civilization.

One outstanding aspect to this book is Brown’s graphic style. The use of limited color palette, swaths of white space, and simple shapes effectively evokes the emotional arc of the protagonist.

Image

The three opening double-spreads are dominated by monochromatic gray-brown illustrations, signaling discontent. Mr. Tiger’s orange fur, pink nose, and bright speech bubbles are the focal point. Brown’s choice to avoid realism in favor of animals made from simple shapes evokes Ed Emberley’s drawing tutorial books. Simple lines on the animal’s faces indicate displeasure or happiness, and the rigidity of the rectangular bodies is a visual reminder of their inflexibility. The use of color to contrast Mr. Tiger and society is most dramatic when his friends banish him to the wilderness (21-22); the exclusive colors are gray for the verso, orange for the recto. In the pages following, the browns of the city are left behind for the greens and blues of the forest, indicating a change in emotion. Indeed, the Tiger initially seems happy to be in the forest, frolicking in the same ways he did when he first began to embrace his wild nature. However, even the forest becomes monotonous, and the green repeated shapes and his reduced size articulates his loneliness. When the rain begins, the forest becomes more tinged with gray, and the linear, vertical shape of the trees echoes the rectangular houses in the city. At the end of the book, when Mr. Tiger has chosen to return to the city, illustrations are more balanced in their use of color and horizontal shapes to show the citizens have achieved more balance in their lives. Ultimately, Mr. Tiger’s desire to subvert the rules of society change his community. Mr. Tiger foregoes the suit and instead wears a floral shirt, the short sleeves showing his stripes. His animal friends occasionally walk on four feet. By the end, other animals join him in the forest, all wearing hats but no clothes, while he wears neither. The shifting color palette and simple shapes then reinforces the deeper message of the book: that the place we live is not so important as expressing one’s true nature.

Mr. Tiger Goes Wild is also an exceptional picture book for its use of humor through illustration. The depiction of proper animals allows readers to see those characters as a proxy for adult humans. The refined nature of those animals is laughable, particularly when the horse says, “Now children, please do not act like wild animals” (4) or when the well-dressed animals shout their surprise out of the windows as Mr. Tiger races across the rooftops (15-16). The tiger himself is a source of humor, from his tongue-in-cheek greeting “Good day, Mr. Deer” (4), to the way he slips off of the page (7-8), to his first moment as a smiling, suit-wearing tiger on all four legs. His humor is highlighted when he embraces his wild side, chasing smaller, top-hat-wearing animals, climbing up a vertical building, sitting on a park bench, the hat finally off, with orange word bubble yelling ROAR! This roar becomes even more amplified when he is in the forest and it is so loud the word extends beyond the speech bubble. The pages most likely to gain a chuckle are those where Mr. Tiger breaks social conventions and goes swimming in a fountain. The humor is amplified with the page turn – he is naked!

Finally, the overall design of the book is outstanding in its commitment to the exploration between civilization and the wild. The end papers reinforce the differences visually: the front papers are grey brick while the back papers are repeating botanical shapes on a muted green background. The cover includes an image of the tiger wearing a top hat, the ultimate high-society chapeau. The back flap of the jacket also delicately underscores the story, a graphic self-portrait of the dapper author stating, “Hello. I am Peter Brown, and it is my professional opinion that everyone should find time to go a little wild.” Finally, the book itself becomes a tiger because if you remove the jacket, the boards are the tiger stripes, oriented as they would be if a tiger were walking in the wild. Mr. Tiger Goes Wild is a remarkable jaunt into the wilderness and back again.

Brown, Peter. Mr. Tiger Goes Wild. New York, NY: Little Brown &, 2013. Print.


Nelson Mandela by Kadir Nelson – A (Mock) Caldecott Pick

One of our tasks in my graduate class is to write arguments for which books should receive the Caldecott medal. Here’s paper 1 of 3. Stay tuned for my next picks!

Painting a Legacy: Kadir Nelson’s Nelson Mandela

The bold portrait on the cover of Kadir Nelson’s book Nelson Mandela is a promise that the paintings inside will be skillfully rendered, and the images within do not disappoint. Nelson Mandela is an outstanding interpretation of one man’s life and its impact on the world, and Kadir Nelson’s ambitions oil paintings are deserving of the highest award for illustration.

Kadir Nelson's Mandela

Kadir Nelson’s Mandela

Kadir Nelson achieves an outstanding level of realism in his paintings. The large portraits of the individuals within elevate the individuals to a place of deep reverence and an attention to a realistic image shows great skill. The dedication of time required of the medium indicates the importance of the subject, but the choice of point of view is equally important. The cover, in which Nelson Mandela is looking directly at the observer is a powerful example. The low angle of the men at council is another careful moment when point of view is used to elevate an informal moment to artistic beauty. The profile portrait of young Mandela and his mother is a beautiful, somber interaction. The composition in which the eyes are gazing at each other and and her remarkably realistic hands are cradling Nelson’s head is exquisitely tender. Kadir Nelson demonstrates a willingness to take on different angles for an effective emotional composition.

Much of Kadir Nelson’s skill in realistic painting lies in his ability to recreate the interplay of light with the real world. In other words, highlights on skin and in clothing are placed so carefully to mimic photographic effects, as if we are seeing the people with our own eyes. However, Nelson’s ability to use the opacity of oil painting is perhaps most powerful in the opening image (1-2). While some might see this only as a metaphor for a sunrise, it is also important to note that an image containing a lens flare is a modern type of composition. Since a lens flare is not something a human eye would naturally pause upon, the silhouette of Rohilhlahla backlit is a view that occurs only through photography or film; a moment captured when the light enters a lens a certain way. Not only does this give the painting a modern and active feel, but it is a subtle reminder that this biography is the vision of a man through one author/illustrator’s lens, bound by time and cultural perspective. This convention is a brave and powerful one to have used for a first image in this biography.

Kadir Nelson’s ambitious collection of more than a dozen portraits is admirable, but it is his careful use of the picture book format that makes this the premier work of the year. While each oil painting stands on its own as a work of art, it is clear that each of these was meant for the sequential, guttered form that is a picture book. The images are powerful while remaining age-appropriate in their depictions of violence and incarceration. No page is marred by a significant loss of material in the center gutter. Kadir Nelson should also be commended for his subtle use of symbolism in these impressive compositions. For instance, when Mandela is studying at a table (7-8), the area set off for text includes the lines of the window, a visual hint at the jail window that will be part of his incarceration. The gray bars appear again in the close-up of Mandela in jail (21-22) and off in the distance in the field work scene (23).

This book is a true gem in the picture book world, and it is a great tribute to an icon whom we are just beginning to grieve. The images will serve as a tool for children to learn about a world leader, not in the traditional sense of an information-laden biography, but from the perspective of a man’s mythical journey into the cave and back out again with his boon, his elixir of life to share with his community. Nelson Mandela’s life story is one of great hope in the face of many challenges, and that is the narrative shared by Kadir Nelson through this book. Only thirty years ago, this man was being unfairly jailed in a prison in South Africa; now he is being immortalized in oil paintings in this outstanding picture book. May Kadir Nelson be rewarded for so beautifully capturing Mandela’s life in a book that children of all ages will find inspiring.

Nelson, Kadir. Nelson Mandela. New York: Katherine Tegen, 2013. Print.


Brilliant! John Green Quote Chart

Wordless Wednesday: John Green Quote Chart.

via Wordless Wednesday: John Green Quote Chart.


Picture Book – Artists and Authors Tour

Two weeks ago, I turned forty.

Since I have dedicated this year to my children’s book writing, it seemed only fitting that I spent the day on a tour of the studios of local children’s book authors and illustrators. Granted, it was a requirement of a graduate course, but it certainly was the easiest assignment I’ve ever completed! Hear directly from six children’s book writers and illustrators? Happy birthday to me!

I’ve been deeply involved with the young adult book world since I began teaching in 2002, and at first only as a consumer: I was reading and suggesting young adult books to my teen students. Then I had children (five of them) and started hanging out in the picture book room at the library. When I started writing books for teens, it was really just as a creative outlet. When I finally committed to the Simmons College graduate program in Writing for Children, I began to get serious about my own writing for children, and I came to know people who were authors and illustrators. Hearing about their process and vision for their work will always be exciting, but in the three years since I have started, I have shed much of the “fangirl” feelings and have come to see these people as fellow writers who happen to have been recognized by their work through (mostly traditional routes to) publishing. However, the excitement of an autograph hasn’t worn off for my son, a nine year old whose artistic talents and love of words have already made him an author of several (self-published!) picture books and comics. So, I took his sketch book along with me and the artists were kind enough to write him words of encouragement within.

Our first stop of the morning was Jane Dyer’s home and studio. She invited us to begin our tour with a look around her living room — where her own watercolors share the walls with other great artists who happen to illustrate picture books. We then climbed the stairs to her third floor studio for a peek into her reference library and creative process. She showed us dummies of her work in progress, pulled out the antique books that have been her inspiration, and turned on her light table to demonstrate how she transfers her sketches onto watercolor paper.

Then we went across the road and up a winding staircase into Kathryn Brown’s studio. One wall was lined with full-size sketches of her work in progress. It was a treat to see the scrapbook she made documenting her work on one of my favorite picture books, Mem Fox’s Tough Boris. I really appreciated hearing about how she developed the violin subplot, and how the illustrator’s market has changed with all the emerging technology of the past two decades.

We were lucky to have lunch (and decadent dessert!) with Jeanne Birdsall, National Book Award winner for The Penderwicks. I had seen her give a lecture this summer at the Simmons Summer Institute, but sitting in her darling cottage talking about the state of children’s literature was so much more inspiring. It was practical as well — she gave me some book recommendations for my nine year old son!

After chocolate torte, we had to dash off for David Wiesner’s lecture over at the nearby Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art. I’ve always been a fan of his wordless picture books, but I was delighted to hear the stories behind the creation of his newest book. He started out by saying, “No one is more surprised than I was when I wrote a book called Mr. Wuffles!” While a cute cat might seem a strange topic for the three-time Caldecott winner, the book itself is absolute Wiesner. Brilliant, funny, quirky, and delightful!

Our next stop was with the prolific Diane DeGroat. Her studio is a bit different than the others for two reasons: it’s full of taxidermy (mostly small mammals) and she has given up pencils and a light table for a high-tech computer sketch pad. Seeing what she can do with the computer and how she uses it as the base for her paintings was fascinating!

At our last stop of the evening we all crowded into a tiny room David Hyde Costello calls his studio. We sipped mugs of hot mulled cider and looked at the dummies and some of the final art for the new picture book he is illustrating  (A Crow of his Own) for author Megan Lambert, who just so happens to be my instructor and the person responsible for the outstanding day. He was engaging, funny, and interactive – he showed us a video (that you can see here) and together we played the scribble game. When he signed my son’s sketch book, he drew a knight running in fear – and left plenty of room for my son to draw whatever it was that was chasing him!

To sum it up? Best fortieth birthday. Ever.


Reading Advice for Writers

Today I “took a break from working on my manuscript” to check my email. It linked me to a writing advice article by Paul Harding. Good stuff. This is what rang most true to me:

“It is true even though everyone says it is that you need to read and read a lot and read the best books. Not only do you need to read the best books, you need to read them well…. Aspire to be a world class reader.” Read the rest of the article here.

Being able to read something critically and with deep attention to craft is one of the best ways to become a better writer. That is one of the things that is so wonderful about being involved in an MFA program – it forces the academic-style critical analysis that can transform an average reader into a reader for whom every text is a lesson. Therefore, I see ever book I read well as another step toward becoming a better writer.

I know that not everyone agrees, and here’s the rub: Won’t that take all the fun out of reading? I don’t think so. Jane Doonan wrote “Finding the source of the experience does not diminish it in any way.” She was writing about picture books, but I am sure she means to refer to all kinds of literature. Figuring out what works (and what doesn’t) is the surest way to make good choices in your own manuscripts. I mean, if you wanted to become a great magician, you would learn how to perform the illusions, right?

Okay, now back to my own revisions…


Work

Work

My favorite stone in the Highlights Foundation poetry garden.


How I got the idea for my book… the Mill River Disaster

How did I come to write this book, Fly to the Hills?

About four years ago, I participated in a Teaching American History program that encouraged interdisciplinary projects. One of the speakers was woman named Betty Sharpe, and she was scheduled to discuss her book In the Shadow of the Dam. In fact, the entire day would be devoted to discussing water power and its history, particularly in the northeast. We were given an excerpt of her book – the chapter describing the flood and the heroes who, at their own peril, decided to warn residents and workers in the mill towns. It was thrilling, exciting, and a bit of local history I never knew. I quickly read her book, and thought that children should know this story. 

It took a great deal of time to figure out how to tell the story. I began researching the event, reading Sharpe’s book over and over, thinking about the various characters who show up in the true events. Another book, Sarah Kilborne’s American Phoenix also covered this dramatic flood. Two nonfiction books for adults that tell the story carefully and with great attention to historical detail. I also read some primary documents to get a feel for the time period and the response to the disaster. Overwhelmingly, the newspapers of the time and the articles that appeared on the anniversary of the event focused on the four heroes – the men who pushed their horses in a dramatic race to alert others. 

There was my hook – what if there was another hero, someone we never heard about? Who would that person be? Why was her story forgotten? This led me to create the character of Catherine, a mill girl who would have been in town on the day of the flood.

 

Okay, if this is a mill girl story, which mill? Which of the four villages did she call home? And why does she go to the mill in the first place?

 

Once I understood that the mill girls often felt great personal satisfaction by earning wages and living independently, I knew that the adventurous spirit of my mill girl would be the factor that would ultimately prod her to moments of great bravery and great empathy in the moments of death. This spirit, this drive to celebrate her independence would be one of the deciding factors in where she landed. 

 

The book American Phoenix was the impetus for placing Catherine in Skinnerville. Not only did the smallest of the villages have a silk mill which hired women, the larger-than-life mill owner, William Skinner, was a compelling character himself. Thus, I did not need to create a mill owner; he can well-formed as a beneficent employer with a fascinating history. Not only did he rise from the extreme poverty of his Spitalfields (check spelling later!) home life, he immigrated to the states and became a wealthy business owner. Furthermore, his own belief in the power of education, particularly for women, makes him likely to be encouraging of women who seek education. Furthermore, I would have set her in Haydenville if I’d thought her journey ended with a career in this mill town; Hayden, another wealthy mill owner rebuilt where his destroyed mill once stood. Skinner, however, was a shrewd businessman and rebuilt his business in a town a dozen miles away, even dismantling and rebuilding the mansion that survived the Skinnerville flood. That mimics the growing and wide-reaching goals I had in mind for my main character. 

 

Even as my research at Wisteriahurst, Skinner’s mansion, shows that his employees often showed great loyalty, Catherine’s loyalty would be to her family, and her drive to further her own education would be to support and encourage her brother to get his own education. She would not be tied down to obligations as a servant or a wife whose primary job is to “keep house” – which is why she went to work in the mill in the first place. Furthermore, she is not seeking recognition, she is seeking opportunity, and by the time the climax of the book hits, she is becoming more clear and more motivated about claiming some opportunities for herself. In accepting the lack of recognition for her role in saving lives, she is claiming something else – her own education and her new purpose in life.

 

It is only in creating the character of Catherine that I was able to move from the events of the flood, which are well-documented, and get beyond a voyeuristic view of this disaster in history. I toyed with the idea of multiple voices, each offering their own experience of the spring of 1874. Instead, I settled on a first person narration, focusing on Catherine herself. Through that choice (and others), I am attempting what I think many historical fiction authors are interested in achieving: making history real and tangible by offering the historically-accurate experiences of a character to whom they can related deeply. If I wanted to invite you to come to know the details of the flaws in dam design or the specifics of the devastation that ensued, I would have carefully crafted a nonfiction book that reproduces primary sources and offers photographic evidence of the flood. I would have offered transcripts and interpretations of the trial of the reservoir company and the dam designers. There is a place for that book, but that is not the book I am trying to write.

 

Instead, through this character-driven piece of historical fiction, I invite my readers to consider this: What if you wanted more freedom? And what if it was limited by your gender? And what if there was an opportunity to work in a mill that was safe and reputable? And what if that mill happened to be downstream from a faulty dam? What if taking your only opportunity for independence meant living with the threat of flood every day? And what if that dam gave way? WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

 

I hope that Catherine allows you to imagine the answer to that question.

 


Stepping Back

Everyone knows that taking a break once in a while from the everyday responsibilities is important, right?

It’s also so hard to do.  As a parent I don’t make myself  take breaks often enough, and that’s pretty much true of my writing life as well.  

RIght now, though, I’m forced to take a break, forced to step back from the historical fiction novel I’m working on.  I think the only reason I’m willing to do it is because I HAVE to.  You see, I’m off to a writing retreat that includes a manuscript review/crit by a working agent.  That means I gave the agent my piece and now I have to sit on it until we meet in early November.  How crazy is that?  This thing that I know is way underdeveloped has to be set aside – because what good would it be if I show up with a radically revised manuscript to get her feedback on the work I’ve already written?

It’s the same anxiety I have when I leave my children with babysitters – will everything go okay?  Is this really necessary?  Isn’t there something more productive I could do with my time?

But the other thing that I have to do before I go to the retreat is go back to a manuscript I’ve set aside since November.  I didn’t set it aside because it’s lousy (like my first three books – may those files never resurface on this computer!) but because I was focusing on my historical piece.  I have to submit the first 25 pages as a mentorship proposal by November 1st.  Will I feel like I am seeing an old friend?  Or will I wonder why the hell I decided to come to this class reunion anyhow?  I hope I still like it…

I’ll check in with that metaphor in a week.  


Manuscripts

I’m at this point in my writing life – the point where I start using the term “manuscript.”

That doesn’t mean I’m using the term “working writer” but I do have a complete manuscript.  One that real people are reading. People other than my classmates, my partner, my kids, my students.  People who have a career in the publishing field.

You’d think I would feel excited!

And I do, but I also feel nervous.  Most days I feel my manuscript is so underdeveloped I might as well have given them a story written by my eight year old.  I get paralyzed with the fear of being exposed as a horrible writer.  I give in to every horrible thought I ever had about myself, as a writer, as a student, as a person.  It’s pretty horrible.

But then I remember this: when I sent out my manuscript, no one laughed.  No one tore it up and told me to go back where I came from and stop putting words to paper.  And then I remember that even if they did, I would still be putting words down.  here, and in one of my notebooks, and on the sticky notes I can’t seem to stop using.  Asking me to stop writing is a lot like asking me to stop walking.  Yeah, I did it once when I was confined to bed rest, but I didn’t completely stop, and I still walked to the bathroom, and I knew I would start back up again. 

So I go back to writing, and writing when I feel good and, now that I have deadlines for revision, writing when I feel vulnerable.

I may not be Kate DiCamillo, but I can try to write as beautifully as she does.  After all, it’s those moments of getting words down that finally add up to that elusive thing: the manuscript.  

Now, if I could only *sell* it…..