Stories Revisited

Posted on by

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?

To MFA or not to MFA

Posted on by

How many of you have considered this question?

Graduate school has been circling the depths of my mind for close to thirteen years. Back then, I was trying to decide between studying geology or entomology. What a different ride it would have been had I chosen either of those subjects. But I didn’t, nor did I choose to go to divinity school or get my teaching certificate a few years later. No doubt, any of those paths would have proven exciting, inspiring, and enriching, but it’s water under the bridge now.

After two years of serious writing, graduate school has surfaced again. Should I get an MFA in writing? Specifically, writing for children and young adults?

So I’ve asked myself what I would get out of an MFA, and if I could get those same skills through a less expensive route. Probably the most important aspect of an MFA program – for me anyway – is the mentorship. My critique group (do we need a fancy name?) is an invaluable resource to me, and in no way am I going to let that go. But having a mentor whose sole purpose (among having many other sole purposes!) is to teach me the craft of writing sounds amazing. Reading and analyzing the books I’m already reading to improve my understanding of what makes a good story – yea! And the residencies – ten full days of workshops and readings followed by painfully short nights – well, they sound great, too. At least, they do right now…

Well, as of 10:13 this morning, I officially put my name in. Hence the delay in this post – I spent the better part of this past week writing and rewriting my personal and critical essays. Now they’re off. And of course, now I have to get in.

What’s been your experience with To MFA or Not to MFA? Why or why not? After deciding, yes or no, what’s your opinion now?

 

The Thrill of Achievement

Posted on by

I am utterly and completely engrossed in the Olympics right now. I was thrilled to discover that I can watch the events live on my computer and iPad during the day. Even though I watch most of the events I am interested in each day, I still try to turn on the coverage in the evening to see the condensed version, just to hear the commentary.

My favorite Olympic sports to watch are swimming, gymnastics, and beach volleyball. When those are done, I will catch track and field.

So given that I watch very little television on a regular basis, what is it about the Olympics that captivates me?

I find success very appealing. In particular, I enjoy watching athletic success. No offense to those who are at the top of their games in the finance, business, or other arenas. Talented people who can push their bodies beyond what we think is possible is amazing to watch.

The Olympics coverage allows us to almost be there with them as they compete. As they win or lose. As they begin their athletic careers, continue them, or conclude them. Perhaps in comparison to “reality TV”, I prefer to see people who are “famous” because they are actually talented. They have taken a gift (mental and physical) and advanced it. Pushed it. Stretched it. Soared with it.

Some athletes are very interesting to follow for their personal stories. I feel invested in their competitions. I cry with them, and celebrate along with them as they reach this high point in their careers. My son was watching swimming with me yesterday, and he commented, “You know they can’t hear you, right, Mom?” I laughed, and told him that I cheered them on hoping it helped them in some little way. Maybe I could contribute something to their achievement, since I gave up any dreams of athletic competition long ago.

We as a nation have followed these athletes, soaking up their stories and feeling connected to them as Americans. I hope the wonderful stories they have shared with us pale in comparison to the parts of the story that they have kept for themselves. The secret dreams. The dashed hopes. The overwhelming desire to try for just one more medal. The thrill of beating their own personal best time. The contentment and satisfaction of being among the top in their field.

Congratulations to all of the Team USA Olympic athletes who are competing in London. I hope your personal stories will give you many happy memories for years to come.

Ah, the Internet

Posted on by

Do you remember when there was no Internet?

Part of me enjoys asking that kind of question. Sure, it dates me. It dates all of us, depending on how you answer it. And at the risk of sounding romantic, I miss that simple world, before telnet (first user group and email I used), before Netscape (my first browser), and certainly before Google (my current search engine).

I started writing two years ago, well after our computer became an electronic family member.  And I’ve been curious lately as to how different the process of writing, and finding an agent, and generally trying to make a living out of this art would be if I had started this ten years ago.

I couldn’t just pop over to Wikipedia and check on some fact about 17th century Suriname nor could I learn of new agents and their interests so promptly. Often times I am thankful that this abstract web of connections exists—it can be very helpful.

But I wonder:

Does the Internet suck my energy?

Many writers could no doubt claim the Internet or something that they read online to be the inspiration for their amazing debut novel coming next fall.  Accomplished writers might say the same for the success of their 15th manuscript. But what is the flip side to having something amounting to an edgeless universe as a distraction?

I admit that when I’m writing I will occasionally (wink, wink) check email or Facebook or YouTube or whatever, really. Is that better than staring at the point where the wall hits the ceiling in search of inspiration? I don’t think so. More often than not, it pulls me away from my characters and their stories. But I haven’t found a way yet to work around this. Anyone have a typewriter they can lend me?

Have you been a writer since the Internet became ubiquitous? How did that shift affect your writing and career? Do you have tips on how to effectively turn off access to this kind of distraction?

Telling a Good Story

Posted on by

In addition to reading and writing, I also love to watch movies. I enjoy many different types of movies, but I have the best experience with movies when I can watch them with my husband. He prefers action and suspense movies (with a little horror or questionable 70’s movie thrown in) and I prefer intelligent comedies and independent films (with a little romance or animated movie thrown in).

Often it is difficult for us to agree on a movie to watch. Most of the time, we take turns choosing the movie. He is willing to try my recommendations from Filmspotting, the movie podcast I listen to. I am willing to try the movies that peak his interest after searching the OnDemand or Netflix listings.

So as you can imagine, some movies I like, some he likes, some neither of us like, and some we both like. For the movies that we both like, the commonality seems to be one thing: a good story. And how do we appreciate a good story? Good storytelling.

Whether it be movies or books, what engages me most is how the story is told. Is it suspenseful? Is it funny? Are there engaging characters? Does it show me a compelling situation/location/condition that I have never seen? Or does it resonate within me… something I have experienced myself?

So assuming the critical elements are there to capture my interest, the next key is to KEEP my interest. The story needs to keep me engaged throughout. After all, I do have the option to turn it off (or walk out of the theater) at any time. The often short attention span of a viewer demands that something happen. Frequently.

Cover of

Cover of Meet the Robinsons

Follow all that? Let me use one of my family’s favorite movies as an example. Meet the Robinsons (2007) is on frequent rotation in our house. It is the story of Cornelius (or Lewis, as he prefers), an orphan with a brilliant mind. IMDB describes the story as:

Lewis is a brilliant inventor who meets mysterious stranger named Wilbur Robinson, whisking Lewis away in a time machine and together they team up to track down Bowler Hat Guy in a showdown that ends with an unexpected twist of fate.

So what makes the telling of this story so interesting? With a close look, the elements of the story are clear. Lewis wants to be a part of a family. Everything else in the story drives towards that. His creativity and inventing brings him closer to finding a family that is the right fit for him. He is challenged to fix a time machine to save the day, gaining confidence in himself. Lewis is forced to confront the Bowler Hat Guy and the role he has played in his life. All of these actions happen to drive the story forward.

As writers, we can look for examples of excellent storytelling all around us. Great stories told well can be found in movies, in books, in short stories, even in the family tales told by Aunt Eleanor every year at Thanksgiving.

For more thoughts on storytelling and pacing, check out this article about how Pixar approaches the development of its stories.

What captures you when hearing/reading/watching a story? What makes you want to hear/read/watch them again and again?

The Journey

Posted on by

As a stay-at-home mom who moonlights as a writer, I’ve experimented with various ways to make time to write. I’ve managed over two years to write three and a half novel-length manuscripts and three picture books. When I look at it that way, I have to say I’m proud. But here’s the disclaimer, in the form of a question:

How was the journey?

I’m sure you’ve heard the quip “It’s not the journey—it’s the destination.” And I’m guessing you’ll agree that when you’re looking for a paycheck, the destination becomes a little more important. Though I’ve yet to receive compensation for anything I’ve written, I’m right there with you.

But I’ve had a couple of experiences where the journey was so rocky I just about stopped writing altogether. A few months back, I spread myself too thin by, among other things, working on three manuscripts at once—two in revision and one first draft. I was extremely excited about each project, but my head was spinning with all the plot strands to rework, characters to make more dimensional, and endings to tighten up (or write at all). I managed to make myself physically sick.

Last June I started to work on a fourth manuscript, hoping to complete it with Camp NaNoWriMo (see previous post). The nausea picked up again, and I did not want a repeat attack. Writing—my creative outlet that I enjoy and crave—would have to lay low for a while. I just completed that manuscript, but barely.

Summer can feel over the top—there are way too many hikes to do, family trips to take, and honey-do-lists to complete.  So I’ve learned that it might not be the best time for me to write. Winter, when I can hunker down, turn inward, and actually have “work “ days, may just be a better time. This winter, I’m going to pace myself, work on one manuscript at a time, and generally try to make choices that don’t result in me screaming for more time to write or send me to bed to calm my frenetic mind. I do find it ironic that shorter days might be a more effective and rewarding time to write.

How do you make time to write? What pitfalls have you faced when working on—and balancing—multiple projects? Is there a time of year that suits your creative self?

The Common Experience

Posted on by

1930, 1939, 1947.

The respective years that children’s classics The Little Engine That Could (Watty Piper), Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel (Virginia Lee Burton), and Goodnight Moon (Margaret Wise Brown) were published.

Wow. I sit here and read these books (and others) to my children today, and they were written over half a century ago.

So what is it about these books that continue to charm new generations of children? What is it that makes my children smile, and ask to read them again and again?

As I mentioned in a previous post, I have been reading Leonard S. Marcus’s biography of Margaret Wise Brown, called Awakened by the Moon. I have now finished it. It is part biography, and part history lesson on the beginnings of the picture book market. I borrowed the book from the library to learn more about Margaret Wise Brown. I not only now know more about this creative, eccentric, and talented woman, but it has also given me pause to consider what is at the core of great picture books, old or new.

At the SCBWI Conference in New York in January of this year, several speakers encouraged the participants to find the commonalities of the childhood experience. The idea is that regardless of background, culture, gender, ethnicity, or education, all children share certain common feelings and experiences in their development.

The desire to be independent, while still feeling safe.

Forging his/her own individual identity

Figuring out how the world works

Fear of the unknown

Feelings/Emotions (for example, love)

Interaction with their environment (urban/rural, natural/man-made)

Imagination and dreams

Looking up to someone else

Needing and giving help

Caring for others

Feeling wanted/needed

Trying new things

Wonder

This is just a list I started brainstorming. What else do you think are universal experiences in childhood?

So our goal as children’s writers should be to tap into these experiences. We should attempt to create a story that a child will identify with. That will make them laugh. That will make them want to be that character (or glad they are not!).

As those classic books demonstrate, if you can effectively reach a child at a fundamental level, perhaps your book has a good chance to be around to delight children for many years to come.

Sounds aspirational, yes? I hope so. I’m off to work on a new picture book idea!

Elephant, Piggie, and a Broken Heart

Posted on by

I just spent 13 hours driving from Jackson to Bend in one day. Car rides with my 3 year-old have suddenly become fun and bearable.

During one of my turns in the back seat (aka, the entertainment seat), we were reading Mo Willems’ Are You Ready To Play Outside? (in the Elephant and Piggie series). Whenever I read one of Willems’ books, especially the ones in this series, I marvel at how Willems is a master at writing age-appropriate inference. Often times, I will read a story to Karsten and feel the need to explain something that is inferred, but not specially mentioned or shown. But when I read Willems’ books, I hold back. Elephant and Piggie are drawn with such amazing body language, that kids can infer so much from their expressions. Then, the characters reinforce that inference with dialog. After many reads, during which I would tell Karsten what Piggie was feeling (based on the illustrations) and then have her tell us the same thing herself, I realized just how brilliant Willems is. He encourages kids to really observe the characters (shown in the minimalism of the illustrations) and then confirms their inference with natural (and funny) dialog. My husband is a kindergarten teacher and he agrees. Willems is a master.

Take two. We’re listening to some mix CD from a former student of my husband. Taio Cruz (I didn’t know who we was before this song) croons a peppy rap song, Break Your Heart. The song tells girls not to fall in love with Cruz, because he will break their hearts. Enter inference gone wrong.

After hearing the song, Karsten had this response:

“Breaking your heart sounds like a bad idea because it would take all your love away.”

Collective aawwww, right?

Karsten was visibly shaken. He didn’t want his heart to be broken. My husband had to convince him that we had so much love for him that his heart could never break. (How’s that for setting him up for teenage heartbreak?) When the song came on again later, Karsten thought that the singer was going to cut us all open and take our hearts out. It was getting worse with each listen.

It really struck me then how Karsten takes things so literally. (And how well he listens when I think he’s not. And how little I actually listen to song lyrics.) He’s a pretty emotionally sensitive child, and I realize I want to be aware of what I’m exposing him to. I’m not sure when it’s developmentally appropriate to understand the abstract meaning behind Cruz’s song, but for now, for a while really, I think it will be fine to stick with Mo Willems.

School Is Out!

Posted on by

As the doors swished closed on the bus and my son waved goodbye, my eyes filled with tears. It took me completely by surprise. I hadn’t expected his last day of Kindergarten to be so emotional. Perhaps it’s because he has grown so much in this last year. Blossomed, really. He started the school year as a little boy, and now he is a BOY. A boy full of questions, creativity, and energy.

This week is our first full week of summer break. For us, that means I have both kids at home with me, and we have days full of “after schooling” (additional activities and learning in focus and interest areas), nature walks, swimming lessons, bicycle riding, and playing. And reading. Lots and lots of reading.

Our community has some good reading programs. My son participates in his elementary school program, as well as the one at our local library. Each week, we visit the library to play, do some crafts, return our bagful of books, and borrow a new bagful. So what are we reading to start the summer?

My son: Lots of reading together and reading out loud

The Magic Treehouse series by Mary Pope Osborne

Anything Dr. Suess

That Rabbit Belongs to Emily Brown, Cressida Cowell

We Are in a Book, Mo Willems

The Good Little Bad Little Pig, Margaret Wise Brown

My daughter: lots of reading together- lots of books with pictures!

The Runaway Bunny, Margaret Wise Brown

Bunny Eats Lunch, Michael Dahl

Moonbear, Frank Asch

The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Eric Carle

All of Baby Nose to Toes, Victoria Adler

Big Bird’s Guessing Game About Shapes

Me:

The Hunger Games Trilogy, Suzanne Collins

Ford County Stories, John Grisham

Inheritance, Christopher Paolini

Lots of books to read, and fun to have. I hope you and your families have fun this summer, both inside books and outside exploring!

The Subjectivity of Art

Posted on by

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.