What Beautiful Illustrations Can Do

In my personal development as a picture book writer, I fully admit that one of the first things I had to learn was to let go of what the book would look like. It is extremely tempting to include copious notes, in hopes that an illustrator will create pictures that mirror EXACTLY what the writer sees in their head. This is the writer’s story, after all, is it not?

You could take this limited view, but you would be missing out on many wondrous possibilities. What if the illustrator creates a vision of your book that is far beyond anything you imagined? What if they elevate your words, creating images that supplement, partner, or even transcend what you have written?

I was not always a believer. Then recently I read two picture books that demonstrate how an illustrator working with a writer’s words can elevate the piece to something quite special.

The first example is an author/illustrator. You may say, “Well, that doesn’t count. He’s working with his own story.” I would agree that it may guarantee that the writer’s vision is illustrated the way he sees it. However, it does not guarantee that the resulting words and pictures work together to create something that is greater than the individual pieces.

Lane Smith, is well known for illustrating for others, such as Jon Scieszka’s The Stinky Cheese Man. He has also illustrated his own books. My favorite of his own stories (that I have read so far) is Grandpa Green. Grandpa Green’s great-grandson tells his grandfather’s story, as he wanders through a garden. The garden is full of topiaries and other garden creations that show each of the memories that the boy shares. For example, Grandpa got chicken pox: “He had to stay home from school. So he read stories about secret gardens and wizards and a little engine that could.” These words are accompanied by a two-page spread of bushes and trees cut to resemble a lion, a scarecrow, a tin man, and a train. In the end, you discover that Grandpa is old and sometimes forgets things. “But the important stuff, the garden remembers for him.” We are treated to another two-page spread of all of the garden creations, made by Grandpa himself.

Besides the beautiful illustrations throughout the book (made all the more amazing by the fact that he uses the color green almost exclusively), the story itself is sweet. But when you combine the story and the illustrations together, it lifts up the book to make it poignant, charming, and endearing. The pictures reinforce the words, and give them so much more meaning. My son and I were so taken with the book that we immediately went back to the beginning and read it again. I was pleased to discover that Grandpa Green has earned Lane Smith the 2012 Caldecott Honor.

The second example is Two Little Trains, by Margaret Wise Brown and illustrated by Leo and Diane Dillon. The first item of note with this book is that it was published in 2001, 49 years after Ms. Brown’s death. More amazing still, there are many more of Margaret Wise Brown’s books that have been published posthumously with modern illustrators.

In Two Little Trains, Ms. Brown uses techniques seen in other books of hers: a repetitive, rhythmic language that compares and contrasts objects and concepts. For example:

One little train was a streamlined train,

Puff, Puff, Puff to the West.

One little train was a little old train,

Chug, Chug, Chug going West.

The words themselves are fun to read, and would be enjoyable to young children. However, the illustrators have taken the text to another level. On each left hand page is a drawing of a real train, making its journey. On each right page is a drawing of a toy train, making its own journey through the house. As the real train zooms along the metal tracks, the toy train runs along its own improvised track made from the fringe of a rug. Again, the illustrators have elevated the words to create a much bigger, more nuanced story. The illustrations ensure you want to turn the page and see what will happen next.

I apologize for not sharing more images (since I am talking about illustrations after all), but I have left them out for fear of using images that do not belong to me. All the more reason for you to go to your library or bookstore and search out these beautiful books for yourselves!

What books do you love, that combine illustration and text in a wondrous way?

Goal! – Sports in YA Lit.

Let me be frank. I am not a sporty person. Yes, I love the Olympics. Yes, I watched horse racing as an eighth-grader, even reruns. Yes, I did train for a triathlon once. But would I ever have anticipated reading and enjoying a novel with a sports theme so strong it constitutes its own character? In two letters, no.

But I love Chris Crutcher. And every one of his books — the ones I’ve read at this point — are sports books.

I first heard about Mr. Crutcher at the SCBWI NYC Winter 2012 Conference. He was a key note speaker, and man did he ever rock. He talked about the importance of using humor in order to write about grief. The audience was laughing and crying, almost simultaneously, as he pulled us down to the darkest depths of an emotional experience, only to lift us up through some unexpected, humorous twist. I’ve since read a good handful of his books, and each has provided me with the same wondrous blend of dark and light. Crutcher is a master, that’s for sure.

And he loves sports. Whether it’s swimming, cross-country, football, or basketball, Crutcher’s ability to develop sports into a character of its own is pretty remarkable, and that’s coming from someone who is not a sporty person. At times, his blow by blow narration of sporting events can be overwhelming for non-sporty people. Truthfully, I have to tune some of it out. That’s because I have no idea about layups and sweeps and off-sides. Even so, Crutcher uses sports to showcase his characters and their personalities, and even a non-sporty like me can understand the positive influence that sports can have on a person, in this case a teenager.

My favorite book so far was Stotan! This book is about four boys — the only members of their high school swim team. Being a swimmer, or should I say someone who enjoys a lap swim now and then, I could relate to this one a bit more. The boys enlist in a training exercise put on by their coach, and it’s a b&#$^ of an exercise. Somehow, even though I’ve never swum for four hours straight, doing sprints and pyramids and crab-crawls on the rough poolside, I understood how the boys were going to be stronger because of this challenge, more able to withstand the grief that Crutcher puts them through.

If you like sports and you also like YA novels, I highly recommend Crutcher’s books. If you like see protagonists face the gritty grief of real life and come out of the water still breathing, then read his books.

Stories Revisited

Do you know the Stinky Cheese Man? The Stinky Cheese Man? The Stinky Cheese Man? (okay, that tune really belongs to the Muffin Man, but you get the picture.)

I don’t know how we missed each other over these last ten years, but I recently met the Stinky Cheese Man. He and some of his friends pop by for a visit in The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales, by Jon Scieszka.

I had previously read some of Jon Scieszka’s Trucktown stories (which honestly, I’m not that fond of), and was pleased to discover this book. On full display here is Mr. Scieszka’s sharp wit and humor. Combined with Lane Smith’s oddball illustrations, there is much to read and look at in this book.

Personally, I would be hard pressed to attempt to retell a well-known fable or fairy tale. One of my critique group partners is working on a retelling of Rumpelstiltskin. I applaud her for taking on this challenge. She is braver than I.

I borrowed The Stinky Cheese Man from the library to read with my son. We both loved it, and have read it nightly. Unfortunately, now it has to go back.

The tales are creative (Cinderumpelstiltskin, the Other Frog Prince, and The Princess and the Bowling Ball for example), and some are so wrapped up in Jack’s attempt at putting together of the book (another interesting feature) that they never really get told (Little Red Running Shorts, Chicken Licken).

What was amazing about this book was that not only did I enjoy reading it repeatedly (and honing my many story voices, I might add), but both my son and I thought it was very funny. Mr. Scieszka uses wit and child humor without being gross or morally questionable. As a bonus, my son now knows the components of a book with certainty, because Jack takes us along as he assembles the book. The fact that the Table of Contents falls on some of the characters helps as well.

In looking at the Scieszka book list on Amazon, I apparently have missed quite a few other books that my son and I might enjoy. We’ll have to try The True Story of the 3 Little Pigs or Squids Will Be Squids.

Do you read Jon Scieszka books? Which are your favorites?

The Subjectivity of Art

Every writer who’s ever submitted a manuscript—of any kind—hopes that the receiving agent or editor will instantly fall in love the work.  And it happens. It must, we pre-published writers insist, because we know that the books we read were chosen. It just happens rarely.

A recent rejection letter I received—which BTW was kind, professional, and supportive, even without anything specific to my submission—claimed that the agent was very picky about the work he chooses to represent and will only select manuscripts he can support 100%. Sounds fair. Shoot, sounds like what I would want—either as a writer or an agent. He went on to say that the business is subjective, and that he hoped my project would find an agent who would love it 100%.  Not only fair, it also implied that an agent might currently exist who will love my manuscript, even as it had been rejected thus far.

This got me to thinking about subjectivity. And realizing that I am being unfair in directing my frustration at agents. Come on, I think. Won’t one of you just love my story already? This kind of thinking is unfair because as I reader I can be just as picky.

On my Goodreads account, I rate the novels I’ve read, though I rarely give a review (just not enough time right now). I went back and checked the novels I’d given 5 stars to. 12 out of 165. That’s just 7%. Not very many.

Ratings are a funny thing. For example, I enjoy Cassandra Clare’s books—they often get 4 stars—but find her overuse of semicolons can be tedious at times. Still, she’s got enigmatic characters and great plot twists. I also lovelovelove John Green’s books, all of which have also gotten at least 4 stars (The only one to get 5 was his latest, and a must read, The Fault in Our Stars). Green’s books are intelligent, provocative, and hilarious. Very different from Clare’s (who writes fantasy). How do they both get the same rating? I guess I’m reading them for different reasons, and enjoying them for an even different set reasons. So I’m not sure I can compare them on the same plane. Or at the very least, it is a hard thing to do.

Recently, Katie recommended a book to me. I read it, and found it hard to get into. I ended up skimmed a lot towards the end. Just a week ago, I returned The Book Thief, by Markus Zuzak to the library. Unread. Just couldn’t finish it. Yes, it seemed original and the subject matter interesting. But I just didn’t like it. <Shrug.> I’m just as picky as the agents are.

Now I want to get published like the rest of you (so agents, pick me!), but I now have  a deeper appreciation for what agents are facing when the onslaught of manuscripts downloads into their email system.

Art is a personal, subjective thing. This quality can make it emotional, vulnerable and terrifying. But the same quality is what makes it beautiful. And that’s why I’m still writing.

Creating Something New

My son and I read a sweet story last week: Lissy’s Friends written and illustrated by Grace Lin.

Cover of

Cover of Lissy’s Friends

It is the story of Lissy, the new girl at school. That probably sounds familiar. However, the twist in this story is that to deal with knowing no one, Lissy creates some friends – from origami paper. She starts with a bird fashioned from the school menu, which she appropriately names Menu. Lissy creates many more animal friends, until a playground mishap blows these paper friends away to Paris.

Other children have been watching, and they want to make origami too. Lissy makes new school friends by sharing a talent special to her – origami. She finds new friends on her own terms.

I know a little about origami. My father makes origami boxes and animals to delight his children and grandchildren. He has given me several origami kits over the years, which I have used to make some basic origami animals. See one of my son’s creations at the bottom of this post.

Origami reminds me of the creative process, as well as the revision process. Origami begins with just paper (albeit, colorful paper); paper that is two dimensional and flat. With a few folds, it is turned into something that has a life of its own. A story has similar potential. It can start with an idea, and grow into something that has a life of its own.

It can be scary to revise, especially if you consciously notice the story changing. But if you allow the process to take the story where it wants to go, the results can be amazing. Your story sometimes goes where you never thought it would, and it is a much richer, more interesting story after the journey.

How do you create something transformational in your writing, or in other creative pursuits?

I would also like to give a plug to the program that brought Lissy’s Friends to my family. Both of my children have participated in Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library. It is a program that brings a new, age-appropriate book to preschool children in their homes each month until they turn five. Our local United Way sponsors Imagination Library in our area, and my children love receiving a book in the mail addressed to them. They can’t wait to see what stories each new book has to tell!

Unearthly and Ashfall: A Comparison of YA Themes

I read a lot of young adult fiction, from contemporary coming of age stories to urban fantasy. Very fun stuff. Some of it makes me cry (most notably John Green’s recent work, The Fault in Our Stars) and some has me in stitches (what can I say, The Fault in Our Stars). A good number of current YA novels tackle a dystopian/post-apocalyptic future or fantastical present. I’m going to compare the two I’m reading now.

Unearthly, by Cynthia Hand, tells the story of an angelblood. Clara Gardner is a quarter angel (on her mother’s side). One element to this story I found refreshing was that Clara knows her family secret from the beginning. Every angelblood has a purpose, a task they must complete, and Clara is just waiting to discover what her purpose is. Ashfall, by Mike Mullin, is a post-apocalyptic tale of what might happen if the Yellowstone supervolcano erupted. Alex Halprin is home alone when his house is struck by chunks of volcanic rock erupted from the Yellowstone Caldera almost two states away. His family isn’t with him — they’re east, and hopefully safe — and the book follows him as he tries to find them. Both books are the first in a series.

I’m enjoying both stories, and I’d gladly recommend them to any one who likes YA, but this isn’t really a book review.

What interests me is, how do I respond as a reader to these two very different possible futures?

Unearthly awakens the part of me that wants to believe in something other. Meaning the part of me that loves fairies, waterhorses, LOTR, and such. Could I be an angelblood? I know it sounds hokey or ridiculous or insane. Rationally, I know  my parents weren’t angels (no offense, Mom). But doesn’t each one of us fantasize about being special in some way? I certainly did as a teen, and I still do now. So, Unearthly takes me to a place where that could be possible, in a hopeful sort of way.

Quite the opposite with Ashfall. I live in Jackson, WY. According to an interpretive park ranger I asked on a recent Yellowstone visit, if the Yellowstone supervolcano erupted, I would be dead before I was even aware of it. The future of Ashfall seems more plausible, real, even though it’s unlikely that the volcano will erupt while humans are still on Earth. And this kind of story affects me in some kind of visceral way. What would I do in the event of a natural disaster? Or war? Would I be one of the survivors? Honestly, with how griped I am reading this story, I hope I never have to answer that question.

In thinking about this comparison, I realize that I read both types of books for separate reasons. I like to slip away into other worlds or possibilities, and at the same time my (more) rational mind likes to flirt with tangents of our current reality. Lucky for me, a plethora of books offering me both experiences is out there.

What kind of stories do you like to read? Do you want to be an angelblood? Would you survive the supervolcano?

Make Me Laugh

Mo Willems is hilarious. Didn’t you know?

Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Tale

Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Tale (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My son and I began our introduction to Mo Willems with Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Tale, and Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus. Both books were charming and funny. In Knuffle Bunny, Willems employs a creative use of photography along with the drawn characters. In short, we love these books. I enjoyed buying these books to add to our permanent collection.

Now that Aidan is in Kindergarten and has begun reading on his own, we’ve started reading Mo Willems’ easy readers together. Our favorites are the Elephant and Piggie series. With basic drawings of the characters (no watercolors or elaborate Jan Brett-style illustrations), you are able to focus on the story. Is the story simple? Yes. Is it witty and hilarious? Absolutely!

These books make both of us laugh out loud. When we read Can I Play Too? my son giggles when Gerald and Piggie try to play catch with a snake, and repeatedly bonk him on the head. I laugh when Piggie raises an eyebrow to figure out who is “reading them” in We Are in a Book!

Cover of

Cover via Amazon

In short, we are convinced he is a genius. He manages to create expressive, witty characters with just a few well placed lines. His stories are simple, to-the-point, joyful, funny, and make you want to read them again and again.

Additionally, I researched Mo’s background and discovered he formerly wrote for Sesame Street (which earned him multiple Emmys). I’m sold. Anyone who works with the likes of Bert, Ernie, Knuffle Bunny, and the Pigeon is cool in my book. Now if I can just find a way to capture even an ounce of his humor in my stories.

What authors make you laugh? What is it about their books that tickles your funny bone?