Great job, Lisha!

Post from: HWKT

Demystifying Genres

(start off with a bang; agents know it’s a query so don’t waste time saying so)
Fourteen-year-old Bethany was strolling through life just fine till her Dad smashed his car into a bridge, or so the story goes. Now Bethany must form an unlikely bond with the neighborhood kid of a mysterious gender to uncover the truth behind her father’s debilitating wreck and save her disintegrating family.

(spell out why you’re querying; show them you’ve researched)
I was pleased to read in an interview with K.L. Going that you are open to considering new clients. Would you care to review The Second Bridge, a 44,000 word contemporary YA novel? Having read Blind Faith, I thought of you for my project as Bethany, like Liz, finds solace outside her family as she struggles to connect with a parent who becomes disengaged after a traumatic loss. A couple years ago, I began a detailed reading list of YA books as a means of market research. Your name surfaces more than any other agent as I track books that appeal to me, including those by K.L. Going, Cynthia Leitich Smith (whom I met and discovered was in the same elementary district as me at the same time!), Catherine Atkins, and of course, all things Wittlinger. My children’s credits include One Smart Fish from Children’s Press, Highlights For Children (publication TBD), and Skipping Stones Magazine. I am a member of the Missouri Writers Guild and a senior writer at a Kansas City TV station where I earned an Emmy For Individual Achievement In Writing, as well as other industry awards.

(stop short of begging and hiney kissing, but be polite)
I would be thrilled if you would consider looking at The Second Bridge. Two sample chapters and an SASE for your reply are enclosed. Thank you very much for your time, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

Sincerely,

Laura Manivong

Happy Querying!!

Post from: HWKT

Query that caught my agent’s eye

ON BOTH SIDES OF THE BOX: THE FIRST PICTURE BOOK

I’ll be honest — when my desk is covered with paper, and I feel the need to throw out massive amounts of something in one fell swoop — the answer is unpleasant, but obvious.

It’s time to go through the slush pile.

Going through the slush pile can leave you with an enormous feeling of accomplishment and also give you significantly more room in your office — all in a couple of  hours.   But it also leaves me with a weird sense of guilt.   Perhaps, it’s  the knowledge that someone, somewhere, could be deliriously ripping open my envelope, quickly reading the letter, and stuffing it back in the SASE.   When I high-five my coworker about cleaning out the slush box behind me, I also cringe because part of me really believes that  query karma is a bitch and somewhere  I’ve just been high-fived out of someone else’s pile.

I’ll admit, I am no stranger to the slush.   I submitted my first picture book in 1997.   I was 14, and  the book  was truly terrible.   It was about a group of anthropomorphic animals who found a hat in a bush.   I collected around twenty or so rejections and spent a lot of my parents’ money on postage.      (Sadly, they may never see the return on that investment.)

As the writer I thought, “this is the best book EVER” and “thank goodness all of my old stuffed animals can pose for the illustrator.”   (I kid you not — this story was drawn from real, stuffed-and-furry life.   Awesome.)   Reading it now,  I think, “Thank God this was  never picked up!”  

I had made some huge but common  errors in my first picture book attempt.   First,  my characters were “furry kids.”   While they were labeled bear, duck,  bunny, etc.  they didn’t actually exhibit any animalistic behaviors.   In this case, they  could (and  should) just have been three or four kids.  

Secondly, I hadn’t thought about  the book’s re-readability.   Once my readers had learned what type of hat the characters had found, there was nothing to make the reader read the book again.   My favorite picture book growing up was CHATTY CHIPMUNK’S NUTTY DAY by Suzanne Gruber and Doug Cushman, which was also about hiding/finding something.   What that book had, that mine didn’t, was great line repetition and alliteration of the “ch” sound.   (Now, to the dismay of my roommates and coworkers, I ‘alliterate’ all over the place…)

Another common picture book pitfall is trying to ingratiate a moral lesson into the story.   Luckily, I did not lecture in the middle of my pb about the benefits of sharing, though I’m sure I thought about it.   As someone that reads the box, though,  this is a good time to point out — you can’t beat the reader over the head with your moral — it is boring.   There.  I said it.  

My  first attempt was also full of ‘talking heads.’   Dialog heavy picture book manuscripts usually make for monotonous illustrations.  In this case, my picture book as written would have looked something like this:

First page: Duck finds hat

Second page: Picture of duck talking to rabbit

Third page: Picture of rabbit talking to duck

Fourth page: Picture of duck talking to rabbit

Fifth page: Picture of rabbit talking to duck

Etc., etc., etc. until we bring in the bear.  

On the other side of the box, when I read a picture book manuscript, I have to think about how the illustrations will move the story.   What is going to keep the reader turning the page?   Is there enough variety in the text to lend itself to a 32 page picture book?   If a writer is unsure if their book has enough action to carry the story, making a picture book dummy can help.   Make a small 32 page booklet, mark off the endpapers, copyright page, title page and acknowledgments (this leaves about 28 pages to work with), write out the text and sketch out the book.   If you flip through it and you see a bunch of faces talking to each other or the same picture over and over again, it’s time to relook at the text.   (Don’t submit this dummy, btw.  This is just for you.)  

The bear-duck-hat-animal-thank-goodness-it-will-never-see-the-light-of-day story also had another fatal flaw, and that is that the main character’s problem was not easily identifiable.   What did my main character want?   Honestly, I guess my duck wanted to keep that hat she found.   But in the end, she couldn’t, and as written, she wasn’t very happy about it.   (Maybe this is why I decided against putting in the moral —  afterall, my duck wasn’t a very good role model.)   What did she do to achieve her goal?   She complained about sharing until the bear invoked the power of “that’s my dad’s” which is the same as saying “I’m going to tell my big, furry dad on you, and he eats ducks for breakfast!”   (Hmm… not good.   Not.   Good.)  

On the other side of the box, we know that in a picture book, the main character must solve their own problem and meet their initial want/need.   Invoking the power of “I’m telling!” just isn’t as satisfying to the reader.

Finally, though my first picture book did not break this rule, a lot of the picture book slush I see comes in rhyme that is off meter.   Bad rhyme will kill a good story.   Writers should ask themselves — will this story really benefit by being told in rhyme?   Is my poetry as strong as what’s already  in the marketplace?    Always read your work out loud, this will help you hear where the rhyme is awkward or offbeat.        

Most of the above mentioned mistakes are big ‘red flags’ and makes going through the slush pile easier (thus increasing the amount of bad slush-karma I have accumulated.)   So, don’t make my mistakes, and help me earn some good slush-karma.

I’ll see you on the slushy side!

Thank you, Tracy, for dropping by!

Post from: HWKT

PB Mistakes Plague the Slush Pile

I created the following quiz for my husband who had read all of my best and some of my worst material.

The answers he gave me created a new window after I’d been hermetically sealed inside the house. It changed my focus for the better overnight. If you’re just starting the writing process, this might be helpful. The last question might even give insight to those with more experience.

This quiz works best if the person being queried has read more than one type of your material: i.e. poetry, short stories, fiction, non-fiction, etc. The quiz will also work better if the respondent is familiar with literary terms since you don’t want to try and explain them before they take the quiz. Your explanations may give them an idea of how you want them to answer, rather than forcing them to rely on what they feel is a true response.

Lastly, if you can think of more questions, please add them!

 What do you think I write best?

 1. Quest                    

a.           Internal/inner meaning search

b.         Physical search

 2. Dialogue

a.           Internal discussions

b.         External/people to people

 3. Plotting

a.           Character driven

b.         Plot driven

 4. Theme/Mission:

 If there was an overall meaning to my best work, what do you think it would be?

Post from: HWKT

Writing Quiz

I keep wanting to shriek and throw a book at it.   Which isn’t a very nice thing for a writer to do to a book.   And speaking of arachnids in (or should I say under?) literature, Charlotte from E.B. White’s Charlotte’s Web is the only spider I would never throw a book at.  

Ms. C was as wise as Obi-Wan Kenobi and, if the  movies had it right, only had two eyes and so looked way less freaky than regular spiders.   Even though Charlotte’s beautifully written webs saved Wilber’s bacon, her self-described greatest work wasn’t a particular web she authored, but rather her egg sack of babies, her creation for which she gave her last life’s energy and through which she lived on.   Charlotte called her babies her Magnum Opus.

Magnum Opus.   This is a Good Word.   Wikipedia, which of course is never wrong, explains that “magnum opus” means “great work” and refers to the best, the greatest, the most popular, or the most renowned achievement of an author, artist, or composer.  

For those of us writers who are parents, our Greatest Works must be our children, our flesh and blood babies.   But what about in the context of our writing lives?   Which of our stories, our books, our little mind-babies will be our Magnum Opus?   How do we go about creating a Magnum Opus, anyway?

The term “magnum opus” originated in medieval European alchemy.   And get this–it refers to the transmutation or “changing” of base matter into gold.   This makes me think of Anne Lamott’s famous writing advice  to let go of perfectionism and write that messy (yeah, that wasn’t the term she used, but this is a kidlit blog here!) first draft.   Once that mess of a first draft is down we can get down to transmutation and shine up our word-babies until they are–to steal the word from Charlotte—RADIANT.   And then hopefully someday our babies, like Charlotte’s, will spin tiny silk balloons and fly, fly, out into the world, into the hands of a child whose life is made better by our little message in a web.

Originally published at Kidlit Central News,  August 12, 2008, by Elizabeth Casteel

Post from: HWKT

Magnum Opus

I learned a few lessons about myself:

        1. Reading how-to books helps, but it won’t make you a professional.

        2. Enthusiasm for a project tends to whither about halfway through. Suck it up. Not finishing is not an option.

       3. When the end feels so unattainable you want to curl up in your tub and cry, go ahead and do it. Then take a deep breath and get back to work.

        4. Mistakes occur. Some will look awful. Fix them and move on.

       5. Sometimes your original vision changes. This can be a good thing if you go with the flow.

       6. Details matter, especially when it comes to trim.

       7. Small errors aren’t noticable when surrounded by high-quality, coordinated materials.

       8. Sometimes stripping down and starting over is the best choice you can make.

         9. It will take twice as long as your original estimate to achieve your goal.

        10. The only way to become a true craftsman is to slop on comfy clothes and do it every day for years and years.

Originally published at Kidlit Central, August 5th, 2008 by Colleen Ryckert Cook

Post from: HWKT

Writing is a lot like do-it-yourself home renovation

The villain has to have a heart, and the hero has to have great flaws. You’ve got to pay attention to what each character says, so you can know each of their hearts.

Once you feel you’ve smoothed out your style problem, go through your manuscript one more time and check for redundancy, for places where you might have repeated an event or idea with only a slightly new twist. Cut them.

I had written three novels before Carrie… But none of them taught me the things I learned from Carrie White. The most important is that the writer’s original perception of a character or characters may be as erroneous as the reader’s. Running a close second was the realization that stopping a piece of work just because it’s hard, either emotionally or imaginatively, is a bad idea.

OK. So far McLuhan has a point. So I tested it some more: I closed my eyes and grabbed the first book I touched on my nightstand: The Last World War by Dayton Ward. Turn to page 69 and you’ll read:

        From the seclusion of the forest, Raegyra watched as the creature staggered away from the remains of its companions and into the woods.
      His first instinct had been to kill the creature the moment he had become aware of its presence, hiding as it was in the brush. Its death would have been quick, if not unsettling to his stomach. Even with its reduced power settings, the weapons effects had still been horrific during the small impromptu battle moments before.

Do you want to keep reading? I did. Now, the painful part: What do my own page 69s reveal?

First, just to be, yanno, as scientifically accurate as possible, I reformatted the double-spaced manuscripts into a layout more closely resembling a book. And lo! Page 69 of my middle grade supernatural novel happens to be the start of not just one of my favorite scenes, but a compelling turn of plot events.

Whoo hoo! This was a relief, because page 69 of the actual manuscript? Yeah, not so compelling.

Now for the women’s fiction manuscript: Reformat, reset margins, blah blah blah and voila! It’s another of my favorite scenes, as my spunky albeit slightly pathetic at this point heroine butts heads with the bristly musician/proverbial burr under her skin.

Whew, because, once again, page 69 of the manuscript elicits a very “meh” reaction.

This is all good and fun, but do McLuhan’s theories have any real-world weight? What else might you have to say about modern media, Mr. McLuhan? Well, alrighty then. I see your point.

Page 69 wins.

Originally published at Kidlit Central, Sep. 5th, 2008 By Colleen Ryckert Cook

Post from: HWKT

Random Advice from People with More Experience than I, plus the power of page 69

Say you’ve begun your search for an editor who would fall all over the slush pile to publish your manuscript. Does targeting your submission mean flipping open a market guide and picking the first names that want young adult fantasy? Maybe you’re scouring the planet for an agent to stand behind you when the winds of rejection threaten to blow the knuckle hairs off your writing hand. Does targeting your submission mean clicking on agentquery.com for anyone who wants middle grade historical fiction?

For me, targeting submissions means keeping a detailed reading log so you can get a sense of who likes what. Use a fancy-pants excel document if you wish, or use a Big Chief tablet. The point is to make it more than a list of titles and genre. Include the publisher, author, year of publication, intended age group, POV, and a quick description of the plot. That one-sentence library of congress summary on the copyright page is da-bomb for your plagiarizing pleasure!

Then dig deeper. Check the acknowledgements page to see if an agent or editor is credited for their stunning acumen. Record it on your reading log. Can’t find it? Google it, check the author’s website, join on-line communities and ask, or get your mother-in-law to call the publisher to inquire who the brilliant editor was behind Title Wunderbar. (Attempt this last one at your own risk!)

Now finesse your reading log. Analyze the book and note why you connected with the main character, or, um, why you used the book as kindling for Uncle Irwin’s bonfire. Note how that vast Alaska landscape almost became a character all its own, or how the protagonist’s external problems are beyond her control but she still manages to change her world through tiny acts of rebellion. In other words, get to know what agents and editors like by looking beyond genre. Look for emotional clues that tell you what triggers agents’ and editors’ heartstrings, something to which you can connect your own work. See how what you’ve written compares to other published titles.

And once you’ve done this research, it’s time to target your submission, not by saying “I read on agent query you’re accepting middle grade fiction,” but rather “My protagonist, like the character in This Other Awesome Book You Represent, finds solace outside her family as she struggles to connect with a disengaged parent. I wonder if you might be interested in my 180,000 word novel?” (Note to self: write article on word count).

Laura Manivong is the author of ESCAPING THE TIGER (HarperCollins 2010).

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Targeting Your Submissions