Posted in Picture Books, Uncategorized

Finding Balance (In Picture Books)

Rhyming in a picture book is one thing–and, so far anyway, it’s definitely one thing I can’t do. (If you want to read a few books by authors who can, I suggest pretty much anything by Sue Fliess; Interstellar Cinderellawritten by Deborah Underwood; and Cheerful Chickwritten by Martha Brokenbrough,) There’s also rhythm which, I think, is made up of word and sentence patterns, emphases, inflections, etc. that you hear (or don’t hear) when you read a picture book out loud. Take a look at In a Blue Room, written by Jim Averbeck (the rhythm is almost musical) and Sparky!written by Jenny Offill (I think the rhythm of the longer sentences broken up by the shorter ones mirrors the differences in personal rhythm between the girl and her sloth).

And then there’s balance. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I still don’t know how to explain it. It has to do with plot and structure. It has to do with how the story develops. It has to do with repetition. But, most of all, I think, it has to do with how the author distributes weight across…oh, across the pieces you would label “stanza” and “scene” in other genres. When the weight is distributed evenly, the story works. It flows.

Balance is actually easier to identify by its absence–that little bump you hit when the you read a sentence or a scene, and it isn’t quite delivered in the way your brain was expecting. author uses a set of three plot points, but one is two long sentences, the next is a half-dozen shorter ones, and the third is a single word with an exclamation point at the end. (Yes, I’m exaggerating–I told you it was hard to explain.)  For me, it manifests mostly as a moment of, “Huh?”

For some examples of balance done well, look at Sophie’s Squash, written by Pat Zietlow MillerBike On, Bear, written by Cynthea Liu, and Children Make Terrible Pets, by Peter Brown. Maybe after you read them, you’ll be able to define it.

Whatever it is, it seems to be the foundation I need when I’m writing or revising a picture book. Do I always build it early on? Of course not. Do I have anything close to it for several revisions. Rarely. But once I have some kind of draft–whether first or fourteenth, I can feel when and where the balance is off. And that’s often where I start the next draft, trying to pull that spot back into balance with the rest of the story. Or if I love that spot, try to pull the other stuff into balance with it. The best way I can describe it is–it feels like when you think you have the right puzzle piece of blue to fit into the empty spot of sky, but–when you go to press it in–it doesn’t quite fit. So you have to go off and hunt through all the other blue pieces.

I hate that when I’m working on a puzzle. Luckily for me, I love it when I’m writing.

If you want to see other posts by me about picture books, and some great craft posts about middle grade and young adult books, you can pop over to KidLitCraft. I’ll be blogging here and there, on an occasional basis.

Posted in Uncategorized

What Feels Different about StoryStorm this Year

Well, first of all, the name is different. The last time I participated and went for my 30 ideas in 30 days, it was called PiBoIdMo. It was in November, too, which is a crazy month to try and get ANYTHING done–so happy Tara Lazar moved us all over to January.

Other things feel different this year. I know we are only on Day 3, and I know by the end of the month, I will be scrabbling for and accepting ANY “idea” to add to my notebook. Still, here’s what’s going on for me so far:

  • I’m committing morning time to actually thinking about ideas. I wake up pretty early, and instead of playing around online or giving myself some extra reading time, I’m idea-hunting.
  • I’m not just reading the blog posts and commenting; I’m USING the suggestions in the blog posts. And they are working. Not instantly, not without some stick-to-it effort, but by the time I head off to the day job, I’ve had at least one idea.
  • My ideas are better. Not better like, oh, wow, THIS will get me an agent or better like, THIS will get me past every craft challenge I have ever had. Better in the sense that I can see an actual story…I can see a want, I can imagine a basic structure of threes, and I have a glimpse of the first (of many, I know) ending and premise to try out. I have five ideas so far. Three of those are stories I actually want to write. One of them I already turned into a first draft. (Another one terrifies me–so, you know, balance.)

Some of you are saying right now, well, duh. Of course the first two differences are adding up to the third difference. And, in part, you’re right.

But I think it’s also the work I have done since I last participated–the writing and revising and reading and learning. If we talk about having a bucket for each idea to fall into, a bucket with some size and shape and functionality to it, then I have built myself a much stronger, much more sturdily made bucket.

Like I said, if course it’s going to get harder. Of course, at the end of the month, I won’t be excited about writing 3/5 of all my ideas. But…it still feels like a huge difference. And it feels like another reminder of where we can go if we keep putting in the time–baby steps or giant steps, I don’t think it really matters. We just need to take steps.

And if you needed another reminder of what we can accomplish, look what is happening today. THIS is where our steps together have taken the country.

Welcome to 2019.

Posted in Picture Books, Uncategorized

In Which Pooh Has Fun with Picture Books

Okay, not Pooh, me. I’m having fun with picture books right now.

I’m not sure if I’m actually on a roll, or if I lucked out and landed on a couple of older ideas that suddenly turned into something, or if it’s in good part because I’ve been working with a wonderful editor. Whatever the reason, I have spent the past few months revising a few picture books and feel like:

  • I’m loving the stories.
  • I’m loving the revision work itself.
  • I’ve possibly hit a new level of sorts in my writing craft–at least in this genre.
    (There is a middle-grade novel waiting for me to come back to it soon, and I’m not making any claims of writing craft on that one yet!)

I was listening to a podcast today in which an editor was comparing reading a short story to reading a novel, and she said something about how–in a short story–everything has to count. That’s not the newest idea, and I don’t actually know where she went with that thought, because I drifted off a bit into that truth about picture books.

In picture books, hoo boy, every word does count. Seriously, this past weekend, I changed a number in one line from “eleven” to “fourteen,” and I am SO much happier with that line. It has something to do with the two syllables having a better rhythm in that line than three. And it has something to do with there being a “t” sound in fourteen and in the word that follows it. And it has a lot to do with the fact that when I swapped words, the line sang much more sweetly than it had before.

Yes, it’s harder to make every single word count, but I seem to get less lost and drifty when I’m revising a picture book, than I do in a novel. (This week, at least–don’t hold me to this statement in April!) And while I don’t expect to ever write a rhyming picture book, I love discovering the rhythm that goes best with each story. I am tone deaf, but I know when I’ve written a line in a picture book that “sounds” flat. And I know when I rewrite the line and hit the true note.

Where am I going with this? No idea! I’m having thoughts about the middle-grade that may, once I dig back in, get me past “stuck.” And I haven’t yet gone back to my pile of picture book ideas to see if any of them spark in my mind. Probably I’ll do both.

For now, I’m just letting myself fall in love with writing again.