Showing posts with label picture books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label picture books. Show all posts

Thursday, May 3, 2018

Cover Reveal: THE BOOK DRAGON, by Kell Andrews

Beware the Book Dragon!

When I joined at Project Middle-Grade Mayhem, I was (of course) a middle-grade writer. I didn't imagine then that my next two books would be picture books, or the I would love writing for this age group that much.

But I do! And that brings me to today, revealing the cover of The Book Dragon (Sterling, October 2, 2018), whimsically illustrated by the wonderful Éva Chatelain.

Here's the beautiful front:



And the equally inviting back:



And here's what it's about:

The Book Dragon, by Kell Andrews, illustrated by Éva Chatelain

Reading is tiresome in the village of Lesser Scrump because the only words allowed must be written in dirt or scratched onto bark. Books are forbidden because the Book Dragon snatches them away at night to add to her massive hoard. But Rosehilda isn’t afraid of the Book Dragon, and she has a better idea for what to do with the Book Dragon’s stash.


Are you a book hoarder too? Confess in the comments.

Thursday, June 23, 2016

What Writing Novels Taught Me About Picture Books by Kell Andrews

I write for children of all ages. Two years ago, when my first middle-grade novel, Deadwood, was released, I wrote a post called what What Writing Picture Books Taught Me About Middle-Grade Novels.

This month, my first picture book, Mira Forecasts the Future (illustrated by Lissy Marlin), hit the shelves. So now I take a look in opposite direction to assess what writing novels taught me about picture books.

Mira Forecasts the Future,
written by Kell Andrews, illustrated by Lissy Marlin,
Sterling Children's

Nobody’s perfect. 

When beginning to write picture books for young children, many writers have a tendency to want to model good behaviors. But good behaviors don’t make good stories.

Writing and reading novels prove that flawed characters are interesting characters. They make mistakes. They grow. They don’t have to be good influences.

Sometimes picture book readers -- agents, teachers, parents, even kids -- will call out characters for the wrong things they do, feel, or are. But the interesting, imperfect characters get your attention, and it’s the interesting, imperfect characters who have room to grow. That leads me to my next point.

Everybody arcs.

In my favorite books, every character wants something. Every character has their own story and growth. Even villains are the heroes of their own stories.

In a novel, there’s plenty of room to infuse each character with their own motivations, narrative, and character arc. This deepens the emotional impact of the plot and characterization, even if minor characters do much of their growing behind the scenes.

There’s not as much room in a picture book, but there also aren’t many characters. If you can make every character vibrate with their own motivations and change in the course of the story, your picture book will pack more resonance into 300 to 800 words.

Know your backstory (but don't tell it all).

One of the biggest temptations when writing a novel -- especially a big, juicy fantasy or historical -- is to put all the worldbuilding and research on the page -- addendums, family trees, glossaries, maps, footnotes with the history of the centuries. Sometimes this works. Sometimes it’s just an info dump.

When writing novels, you make a critical decision about what backstory not to include. Just because you know something doesn’t mean your reader needs to -- the hidden history of your world makes the story more real even if you never put it in the foreground. That’s why it’s called backstory -- you can’t show perspective and dimension unless there’s something in the background.

Of course, the few hundred words of text in a picture book don’t allow foreground backstory. The lesson from novels is to know the backstory even if you don’t tell it. If you understand your characters outside of those 300 to 800 words, if they live for you as people (or bunnies or sentient shovels), you’ll have a richer story.

Trust your reader.

One reason novel writers leave out backstory is that they trust their readers to pick up allusions and make connections. But can you do that when writing for very young children?

Yes. Your child readers may have only few years behind them, but they’ve accomplished hugely impressive cognitive growth before listening to or reading your story. They understand more than you think they do, and they are capable of understanding so much more than that if you give them a chance. So give them a chance.

Be in it for the long haul.

Writing a novel takes stamina. Even a short middle grade novel is 30,000 words. Adult novels are 80,000 and more, and don’t even think about the number of words in a multibook series. You have to write a lot of words, many days in a row or over the course of months or years until you reach the end. Then you revise, again and again. It’s a long haul.

A picture book is shorter than 1000 words, the amount many writers strive to draft in a single day. A picture book manuscript often doesn’t take long to write compared to a novel. But it’s still a long haul.

The individual manuscripts may be short, but shorter isn’t easier. Every word counts. You’ll probably rewrite each one. You may start from a blank page sometimes. You’ll workshop. Revise again.

And still, that first book you write probably won’t be published. Probably not the second. Maybe even your 10th manucript still won’t interest an agent. Maybe it will take your 15th or 20th to get published. And then maybe you’ll write 10 more before you get published again.

Picture books may be short, but they’re not a short cut. Every road in the writing business is a long one. Shorter isn’t easier. Younger isn’t lesser.

Writing is hard for every age. When it works, the writer finds the story, and the story finds the reader. And novel or picture book, that's what makes it worthwhile.




You can also find me at KellAndrews.com or Twitter @kellandrewsPA.

Friday, June 5, 2015

The Opening Hook by Jim Hill

I’m teaching a picture book writing class at the Cotuit Center for the Arts, and it’s been fascinating exploring the connections between middle grade novels and picture books. How do you compare a five-hundred-word story to a thirty-thousand-word-plus novel? One way is to look at the opening.

Among the many books I’m drawing from for lessons is Ann Whitford Paul’s Writing Picture Books. She talks about the “story question” of a book, an idea I think of as the character’s need and theme bundled up together. Getting the reader involved with the character’s need is imperative from the get go, otherwise why will she turn the page? So, how do you do that? What’s the hook?

At the 2014 NESCBWI conference, Jo Knowles presented a fantastic workshop on baiting the hook, “Let’s Go On a Journey.” She proposed a series of questions that every book opening should answer:
  • Who is the main character?
  • What do you know about him/her? How?
  • What is happening?
  • Is there a conflict? What is it?
  • What is the overall emotion conveyed?
  • Would you keep reading? Why/why not?
With these questions in mind, I’ve been looking at my work-in-progress and published books to see how well Jo’s questions are addressed. The opening of Up & Down (Philomel, 2010) by Oliver Jeffers makes for an excellent example.

Up & Down features two characters (the Boy and the Penguin) established in Lost & Found (Philomel, 2005). Lost & Found can be described as “a wonderful story about the meaning of loneliness and the importance of friendship.” Up & Down continues that theme by looking at the importance of individual growth within a relationship.

It opens with a spread that establishes the relationship between the Boy and the Penguin with the text:
“Once there were two friends…”

The second spread continues:
“who always did everything together. Until the day the penguin decided there was something important he wanted to do by himself…”

The third spread takes the reader inside the head of the Penguin so that she can see his dream:
“…fly!”


Run that opening through the magic of Jo’s Questions and you’ll see they’re all answered. And unless you’re the Grinch, pre heart-expansion, you want to read on. Now, in a middle-grade novel you’re more likely to hit these points within the first two pages. The brevity of text and the interplay with the pictures allows Jeffers to breathe space into the opening. And yet, there’s a ton of story in there that reveals the tone, the protagonist, the need, and addresses Anne Whitford Paul’s “story question.”

Now it’s your turn. Pull a book off the shelf, and give it a close read. How does it compare? Make notes. Next, take a look at your draft and do the same. You might find the opening needs a little revision love–I know mine did.

Friday, August 22, 2014

What picture books taught me about writing for middle-graders by Kell Andrews

I am a middle-grade writer first, but not only.

I read so many picture books when my children were young that I wanted to write one. Finally an idea hit me, and the story flowed out in a sitting. But that was the beginning -- that story required many, many more sittings, drafts, and subsequent stories that improved on my first effort. As simple as a picture book manuscript looks, it's hard to write one.

Switching gears between middle grade and picture books creates challenges, but it has its lessons. Here's what I've taken into my middle-grade fiction from my efforts to write for younger readers.

Let story guide progress. 
One of my inspirations, a few years ago...

When I was beginning to take writing seriously, I believed that a writer ought to write a thousand words a day. But if you're writing picture books -- where the average published book is 500 words -- if you write a thousand words, you're probably doing it wrong.

That's not to say that high word counts are wrong for all writers, but it's not how I measure progress now. I try to use scenes as markers -- I'm telling a story, not stringing together words by the thousand. Word count is a simple metric to use when it works, but it can lead your story astray if you race after numbers.

Every word matters. 

When you revise a picture book, you look at every word. Every one is a decision -- is it the most precise one? Will it be understood by the reader? Is it colorful enough, fun enough? Can the sentence be said in a more concise way? Can the whole sentence go?

When writing and revising a novel, most of us won't take that kind of care on every word unless we don't care if we never have time to write another. But every word still matters. If not, it shouldn't be
there.

Let go of what doesn't work. 

I can't speak for other picture book writers, but it takes me a lot of ideas to find one that I can execute well enough to put in front of my agent. And then it takes a good number  of manuscripts before my agent finds one she feels is commercial enough to put in front of editors. I'm not sure how many stories it takes to find one editors will buy, but fingers crossed that my time will come.

That winnowing process has taught me to let go of ideas and stories that haven't found a home, even if I love them. That's harder to do for a novel, which is a bigger commitment of time and craft.  But sometimes you do have to let go and move on -- which can mean leaving a favorite scene on the cutting room floor, shelving a problematic manuscript unfinished, or trunking a book that didn't find a publisher. Hard, but not every story will find a readership, even with the possibility of self-publishing.

Leave room in the text. 

For a middle-grade writer writing picture books, one of the biggest adjustments is leaving room for the illustrator. That means not describing what can shown in a picture and not trying to control the illustrator with too many notes.

For a novel, it means not overdescribing what the imagination can fill in. Don't underestimate your reader. Young children understand more than they are often credited with. So do older readers -- write up to them, not down.

Let go of control.

Picture book writers do not usually get to choose the illustrator, nor do they have veto power over the illustrations. Sometimes that can yield unexpected results in the wrong way, but in the best collaborations, the illustrator will bring more to the book than the writer ever imagine.

The same is true for novels. Once the story has been published, the writer does not own the story any more. It belongs to the reader. Sometimes readers misunderstand authorial intent. Sometimes they hate the story with burning intensity.  Sometimes they love it. But love it or hate it, once they've read it, it's part of their understanding of the world. That's the gift the writer gives, and the gift the reader gives back.

Do you write other genres or for other ages? How does it affect your work for middle-grade readers? 


Friday, June 13, 2014

That Middle-Grade Voice by Kell Andrews

The long and the short:
Character sketch for a chapter-book-
turned-picture-book-turned-
middle-grade story
By the time I was middle-grade age, I wanted to be a writer, but for grownups. It was only as a grownup that I found my voice writing for middle grade.

I've been thinking about that since a tweet from agent Sarah LaPolla (whom I've never queried but I like her Twitter feed):


It's not a coincidence I moved from writing for adults straight past YA to middle grade. Those were the books that made me love reading, and it turned out that I have a middle-grade voice.

Not-blurry middle-grade voice


So what's middle-grade voice? It's elusive -- one of those "you know it when you see it" things. You know it whether it's Lemony Snicket's wry, formal omniscient or Rachel Renee Russell's effusive, run-on first person. And while the lines might be blurry, middle-grade voice itself never is. It's crystal clear and succinct -- no words wasted, whether lyrical or comedic, prose or verse.

And once you have that voice, it's a bit persistent.
 

The long story of a short story

Once I decided to write middle-grade, I wrote two novels. (The second written  turned out to be Deadwood, which releases June 24 from Spencer Hill, and the first of which has not yet decided what it will turn out to be). Then I had a great idea for younger story -- a chapter book featuring second-graders. The draft was 6,000 words, and I loved it. But I was between agents, and my querying efforts yielded exactly zero agent requests -- chapter books are not great agent bait. My single request, actually, was from an editor in an early reader/chapter book imprint who found the voice (third person, whimsical) to be charming but the story too thin for 6,000 words.

I realized that my chapter book wasn't really a chapter book -- it was a picture book. I started with a blank page, chose first person, present tense, changed the age of the characters to first grade, and wrote the story in 850 words. Still loved it -- my favorite story that I'd written.

This time when I queried the story as a picture book, I got an agent offer of representation. On the phone, I told her about my middle grade novels too. She said, "I can tell. Your picture book kind of sounds middle grade."

I chose a different agent and we subbed a different book. But I didn't forget my favorite story. Eventually I rewrote it featuring third-graders and finally sold it as an early middle-grade short story. Which is what it was meant to be all along.

Middle-grade voice is varied. It isn't a length or a genre -- it managed to assert itself as strongly in my 1,000-word contemporary story as in my 60,000 word fantasy/mystery. And if I ever write for grown-ups again, I'm going to have to hope they're looking for a little bit of (not-blurry) middle-grade whimsy.