Lessons learned at the 2011 SCBWI WWA retreat


I had such a great time at SCBWI West­ern Wash­ing­ton’s Week­end on the Water retreat this year. Nes­tled in a cozy lodge-style resort on the Hood Canal, 49 oth­er writ­ers and I had the priv­i­lege of learn­ing from super­stars Arthur A. Levine and Lin­da Sue Park. I want­ed to cap­ture and share just a few of the nuggets of wis­dom I gleaned from their talks, so here goes…
 
Arthur A. Levine
From Arthur:

  • First chap­ters are like first dates. You need a spark, but also must estab­lish trust if there is to be a long-term rela­tion­ship. You must choose an appro­pri­ate set­ting for the mood you wish to cre­ate. Choose the right outfit—don’t write to trends if they don’t suit you. Don’t give too much away in the beginning—keep a few sur­pris­es for lat­er. Be hon­est. Don’t rush in.
  • Think about your story’s “best self,” the most impor­tant aspect of your book and hope­ful­ly, the one you are best at. Is it char­ac­ter? Plot? Voice? Set­ting? Yes, you need them all, of course, but one prob­a­bly stands out as the key ele­ment or your best trait. Be sure to lead with that com­po­nent in the first chap­ter, both to make a good impres­sion and set the stage for what comes next.
  • Make sure your story’s “beat­ing heart” is revealed in the first chap­ter. What’s the emo­tion­al theme?
  • You can’t start writ­ing with a moral or theme in mind. Go back to the char­ac­ters and find out  why it matters.
  • Main char­ac­ters will have thoughts and feel­ings about the facts you need to present. Reveal char­ac­ter through descrip­tion to get two for one.
  • When receiv­ing feed­back, be sure to ask WHY cri­ti­quers are mak­ing their sug­ges­tions. Don’t just make the changes they pro­pose with­out under­stand­ing the real rea­sons behind them.
  • Enjoy the journey!

 
Linda Sue Park
From Lin­da Sue:

  • Young chil­dren are learn­ing about THEIR WORLD. Mid­dle-grade chil­dren are learn­ing about THE WORLD. Young-adult read­ers are learn­ing about THEMSELVES. “Read­ing is prac­tice for life.”
  • With­out show­ing the where and when of set­ting, you only reveal part of char­ac­ter. Tell read­ers how your char­ac­ters inter­act with their envi­ron­ment, not just what the envi­ron­ment is.
  • Every sen­tence should do dou­ble-duty (plot + char­ac­ter, plot + set­ting, or set­ting + char­ac­ter). Look for this dur­ing revision.
  • Try it! Instead of just think­ing about some­thing, (1st per­son POV vs. 3rd per­son, present vs. past, dif­fer­ent struc­tures and time­lines, dif­fer­ent set­tings, etc.), try it both ways and see what you like bet­ter. Don’t be afraid of wast­ing time! This is the work of writing.
  • Using present tense for what is hap­pen­ing right now is tech­ni­cal­ly incor­rect. Present tense is for things that hap­pen every day or are rou­tine. Present par­tici­ple (-ing) is for what’s hap­pen­ing right now. “I sing” vs. “I’m singing.” But it’d be awful­ly cum­ber­some to right a 1st per­son present nov­el this way!
  • Use line breaks to see the rhythm and length of sen­tences in a pic­ture book. Edit it as free verse, then put it back togeth­er for man­u­script form.
  • Act out the parts and try read­ing your work out loud AS your char­ac­ters! This helps you catch things they wouldn’t say or do and guar­an­tee authenticity.
  • Write one scene at a time. In every scene, you only have to choose if there will be progress or imped­i­ment, and which quest will affect, inter­nal or exter­nal? Now make it MOVE—every scene needs some kind of action.
  • Even if you don’t believe in your­self, believe in your STORY.
  • The only way to know what’s good is to read—a LOT!

 
There was so much more from each of them that my note­book (not to men­tion my brain) is full! If you ever get the chance to hear either one of them speak, don’t let it pass you by. They are both phenomenal.
Anoth­er great com­po­nent of the retreat is learn­ing from the oth­er tal­ent­ed writ­ers in atten­dance.  We had peer cri­tique groups, net­work­ing and social time, and work shared aloud through­out the week­end. So, with all of that feed­back and learn­ing in mind… back to revisions!

Jean Reidy’s Light Up the Library Auction

LIGHT UP THE NIGHT cover

Author Jean Rei­dy’s new pic­ture book, LIGHT UP THE NIGHT (Hype­r­i­on, Octo­ber 2011) was inspired by her con­nec­tions to Ugan­da and its chil­dren, many of whom have been dis­place due to past civ­il war or orphaned by AIDS. To cel­e­brate the release of the book and hon­or those chil­dren, she is hold­ing an online auc­tion to ben­e­fit lit­er­a­cy in Africa and a library at Musana Chil­dren’s Home in Igan­ga, Uganda.

There are all kinds of great items avail­able including:

Find out how it all works and start plac­ing your bids here. But hur­ry! The auc­tion ends Novem­ber 18, 2011.

November is PiBoIdMo!

Picture Book Idea Month link

For many writ­ers, Novem­ber is Nation­al Nov­el Writ­ing Month (NaNoW­riMo), a month-long com­mit­ment to cre­ativ­i­ty where­in writ­ers turn off their inner crit­ics and pound out a com­plete 50,000-word nov­el in 30 days. I’ve seen the results, and it’s noth­ing short of amaz­ing. A self-imposed dead­line can be very moti­vat­ing, espe­cial­ly when shared with others!
Alas, how could pic­ture-book writ­ers join in the fun and enthu­si­asm? I sup­pose you could try to ham­mer out 100 500-word pic­ture books in a month, but writ­ing 100 dif­fer­ent sto­ries, even if they’re short, is a very dif­fer­ent beast than writ­ing just one long one. It may not take long to write the first draft of a pic­ture book, but it can take a very long time to find one real­ly great pic­ture-book idea (and we won’t even talk about revisions!).
Last Feb­ru­ary, I par­tic­i­pat­ed in a month-long pic­ture-book writ­ing marathon, where we chal­lenged our­selves to write 26 pic­ture books in 28 days, and it was a fan­tas­tic expe­ri­ence. In fact, two man­u­scripts from that expe­ri­ence are very close to being final drafts ready for sub­mis­sion. Of course, that means there were 24 that weren’t so great, rang­ing from “might be worth work­ing on” to “total stinkers” (lots more in that cat­e­go­ry, to be sure), but still, I feel it was well worth the time–and a ton of fun!
Per­haps an even bet­ter idea, and cer­tain­ly less intim­i­dat­ing now that I’ve done the pic­ture-book marathon, is Tara Lazar’s Pic­ture Book Idea Month (PiBoId­Mo). Sign up starts today, right here!

Picture Book Idea Month link

If you’ve ever even thought about writ­ing pic­ture books, I urge you to try this chal­lenge! So far, almost 300 peo­ple have signed up, so there will be cama­raderie. Tara will fea­ture dai­ly inspi­ra­tion and guest blog­gers to help keep us going. And, as if that was­n’t enough, there will be PRIZES: signed books, pic­ture-book man­u­script cri­tiques, orig­i­nal art by pic­ture-book illus­tra­tors, book jew­el­ry, hand-made jour­nals, vin­tage chil­dren’s books, and feed­back from one of three lit­er­ary agents!
I’ll hope you’ll join me, Tara, and hun­dreds of oth­er pic­ture books writ­ers for this year’s PiBoId­Mo. Please let me know in the com­ments if you’re participating!

Interview with author Audrey Vernick

I’m still pinch­ing myself about sign­ing with Ammi-Joan Paque­tte at Erin Mur­phy Lit­er­ary Agency. I’ve always known Joan and Erin are amaz­ing, but I was­n’t expect­ing the close-knit, ultra-sup­port­ive group of EMLA clients who total­ly sweet­en the pot. I set about try­ing to read all of their books and was thrilled to dis­cov­er fel­low non­fic­tion (and fic­tion!) author Audrey Ver­nick. I knew I want­ed to get to know her bet­ter as well as  pick her brain a lit­tle, so I’m excit­ed to be the 3rd stop on her sum­mer 2011 blog tour!

Audrey Ver­nick

Lau­rie: Wel­come, Audrey! Thanks for stop­ping by. Your first book, IS YOUR BUFFALO READY FOR KINDERGARTEN, was a light-heart­ed, hilar­i­ous­ly fun­ny book for the preschool set. Your sec­ond, SHE LOVED BASEBALL: THE EFFA MANLEY STORY, was a seri­ous, pas­sion­ate pic­ture book biog­ra­phy. Now, here we are cel­e­brat­ing your return to young fic­tion with the release of TEACH YOUR BUFFALO TO PLAY DRUMS. (Con­grat­u­la­tions!)

Lau­rie: One of the things that jumps out at me about all of your books is what a strong and unique voice they have, yet they’re total­ly dif­fer­ent! As authors, we’re told, and often strug­gle, to find our own one true voice… but you’ve found two! How did you devel­op them? How do you switch back and forth between your BUFFALO voice and your non­fic­tion voice? 

Audrey: I strug­gled with this ques­tion, because before I was pub­lished, I found it mad­den­ing the way peo­ple, espe­cial­ly edi­tors, talked about voice. “It’s hard to define, but I know it when I see it.” THAT IS NOT HELPFUL! I want to give an infor­ma­tive answer, but the truth is that voice is the one part of the writ­ing process that’s just there for me. I’m not at all con­scious of devel­op­ing voice or switch­ing between voic­es. I write and it’s there.
Audrey: But as I think more about it, my brain keeps me pulling me back to the tru­ly dread­ful pic­ture books I used to write, which had no voice at all. Before writ­ing for kids, I wrote lit­er­ary short fic­tion for adults (which makes writ­ing for kids seem like a lucra­tive busi­ness deci­sion). My voice was always in the short sto­ries, but it did take me some time to get it into my chil­dren’s writ­ing. A lot of time, actu­al­ly. Some­thing clicked into place with the buf­fa­lo books, and the best expla­na­tion I can give is that I learned to get out of my own way. I used to waste a lot of my nar­ra­tive space explain­ing the world I cre­at­ed and why char­ac­ters act­ed as they did. Now I state it and move on. And that, some­how, cleared out the room my voice had been wait­ing for.

Audrey: Late­ly I’ve been think­ing a lot about voice in non­fic­tion. I real­ly admire some voice-heavy non­fic­tion books, and I’m play­ing around with that, at least in my head, for the non­fic­tion project I’ve been work­ing on for years. The exam­ples that come to mind are both base­ball books–Kadir Nel­son’s WE ARE THE SHIP, about as per­fect as a book could be (though maybe more for adult read­ers of chil­dren’s books than for chil­dren), and the won­der­ful YOU NEVER HEARD OF SANDY KOUFAX? by Jon­ah Win­ter (illus­trat­ed by Andre Car­ril­ho). Those books deliv­er on three fronts, where I was only expect­ing two–information about a sub­ject in which I was inter­est­ed, gor­geous art, and the bonus: a real­ly inter­est­ing voice to tell the story.
Lau­rie: You also have a nov­el com­ing out this fall. How did you find that voice, and how is it like or unlike the two we’ve already seen? 

Audrey: The voice in WATER BALLOON is truest to… me. To who I am. Not nec­es­sar­i­ly who I was at thir­teen, the age of the book’s narrator/protagonist, but who I am now, dis­tilled back to a younger age. 
Audrey: I start­ed this book sev­en years ago and the voice was the exact same in the first sen­tence of the first draft as it was when I com­plet­ed the final revi­sion. But man alive, did I need to work on plot. If my char­ac­ters had their way, they would lounge and emote for 300 pages. 
Lau­rie: Anoth­er mul­ti-tal­ent­ed author of both fic­tion and non­fic­tion (and fel­low EMLA client) Chris Bar­ton wrote in a guest post on Ras­co from RIF, “I slide back and forth between fic­tion and non­fic­tion with­out real­ly think­ing much about it, my expe­ri­ences with one build­ing on the oth­er. I sus­pect the youngest read­ers approach the two gen­res pret­ty much the same way—when you’ve explored only a smidge of the world, all books are about explor­ing more of it. It’s as we get old­er, as both read­ers and writ­ers, that our tastes divide.
Lau­rie: I guess, for some of us, our tastes nev­er did divide. (Per­haps because we nev­er grew up?) Do you have a pref­er­ence? Which cre­ative process do you enjoy more: fic­tion or nonfiction?
Audrey: I think writ­ing fun­ny comes more nat­u­ral­ly and is more fun. Writ­ing non­fic­tion is hard­er. But some­times there’s a greater sat­is­fac­tion in suc­cess­ful­ly com­plet­ing a dif­fi­cult task. And I feel some­thing that’s found at the cross­roads of pride and delight at shar­ing some­one else’s sto­ry with a wide audience. 
Audrey: I would­n’t say I’m drawn to non­fic­tion as a whole, though. Some indi­vid­ual sto­ries just call me. And while it’s obvi­ous that some of them are baseball–in the case of my first book, BARK & TIM, it was a paint­ing. I have likened see­ing Tim Brown’s paint­ing to the human-inter­est sto­ry I once read about a woman who saw a news sto­ry about an orphan in anoth­er coun­try and had this imme­di­ate, strong knowl­edge: That’s my son. It was that strong when I saw “Feed­ing Bark.” That’s MY paint­ing. My art. My sto­ry. For the play­ful, fic­tion books, I’m sim­ply drawn in by the strong pull/desire to write some­thing funny.
Lau­rie: Chris also wrote, “based on my own expe­ri­ences slip­ping back and forth between gen­res, I believe they might even find inspi­ra­tion for their next fic­tion project.
Lau­rie: Do you also find that one informs the oth­er? Do you need to do both to stay bal­anced? Where do you pull such dif­fer­ent ideas from? Do you think they come from the same place somehow? 
Audrey: Both kinds of stories—fiction and nonfiction—call to me. I don’t go seek­ing sto­ry ideas. I find myself won­der­ing about some­thing or some­one (non­fic­tion) and want­i­ng to explore to find out more. Usu­al­ly in the case of fic­tion pic­ture books, I say some­thing, though some­times I just think it, and it echoes until I start look­ing at it for sto­ry poten­tial. The clos­est I’ve come to one inform­ing the oth­er was when read­ing a par­tic­u­lar kind of non­fic­tion pic­ture book—the spate of inter-species friend­ship books—led to writ­ing a fic­tion spoof of the genre, the upcom­ing BOGART & VINNIE.
Lau­rie: Do you tend to work on fic­tion projects and non­fic­tion projects at the same time? Or do you keep them com­plete­ly separate? 
Audrey: I work on them simul­ta­ne­ous­ly. I don’t have any trou­ble switch­ing gears, for the most part.
Lau­rie: How is your process dif­fer­ent for some­thing like TEACH YOUR BUFFALO TO PLAY DRUMS and SHE LOVED BASEBALL? 
Audrey: I just need an idea to start writ­ing fic­tion pic­ture books. A title, a premise, a character–those have all been my start­ing points for dif­fer­ent fic­tion pic­ture books. For non­fic­tion, I need a lot of infor­ma­tion. I need inter­views, back­ground infor­ma­tion, etc. And I need time for the sto­ry to boil down enough that I can envi­sion an open­ing scene, where an open­ing scene almost always nat­u­ral­ly emerges for me when writ­ing fic­tion pic­ture books.
Audrey: When I get stuck writ­ing non­fic­tion, it’s usu­al­ly a good hint that I need to do more research. When I’m stuck writ­ing fic­tion, it’s kind of my own prob­lem to fix. After wait­ing a few days to see if an answer comes to me, I’ll some­times try to sit down and write five pos­si­ble ways out. This usu­al­ly works. One thing I’ve done when stuck writ­ing both fic­tion and non­fic­tion, with suc­cess, is talk it through with smart people. 
Audrey: The edit­ing process is sim­i­lar in that both are almost always about strip­ping away to find the essen­tial sto­ry. With non­fic­tion, it’s wrench­ing, because you’re cut­ting away parts of a life. I still mourn for a scene in SHE LOVED BASEBALL. I find it more sat­is­fy­ing with fic­tion, because for me, my humor usu­al­ly comes through best when it’s in a stark, brief form. But that’s not how I write it–that hap­pens in revision. 


Lau­rie: What are you work­ing on now? 

Audrey: I am revis­ing a recent­ly acquired pic­ture book enti­tled BOGART & VINNIE, A COMPLETELY MADE-UP STORY OF TRUE FRIENDSHIP. I find myself in the new-to-me sit­u­a­tion of turn­ing a char­ac­ter from a pot­bel­lied pig into a rhinoceros. 
Audrey: I’m also plan­ning to start a new upper mid­dle-grade nov­el this sum­mer, which scares me more than any oth­er kind of writ­ing. Nov­els are so con­sum­ing and, for me, real­ly hard! I know a lot about my main char­ac­ter and her sit­u­a­tion, about where she starts and where she’ll end up, but get­ting her to move and do things has proven to be a challenge. 
Audrey: Mixed in there are a cou­ple of oth­er pic­ture book projects–mostly fic­tion, with one nonfiction–that I return to every now and then. And one new one that’s just start­ing to scratch its way to the surface. 
Lau­rie: What do you most want peo­ple to know about you as an author and as a person? 
Audrey: That is a big question.
Audrey: I’m a big read­er. The moments I love best as a read­er are the ones that make me laugh, or the ones I HAVE to read aloud or paste into an email for some­one else whom I know will get it exact­ly as I do, or stum­bling upon phras­ing that pleas­es me to my core. Most recent­ly, it was this sen­tence in Ann Patch­et­t’s STATE OF WONDER, when a char­ac­ter receives bad news: “There was inside of her a very mod­est phys­i­cal col­lapse, not a faint but a sort of fold­ing, as if she were an exten­sion ruler and her ankles and knees and hips were all being brought togeth­er at clos­er angles.” It’s not an espe­cial­ly impor­tant moment in the book, but those words evoked some­thing in me. I reread them sev­er­al times, with great sat­is­fac­tion and pleasure. 
Audrey: As a writer, I don’t think there’s any way to con­scious­ly strive for such moments in our own writ­ing. But I think that’s why I write–in the hope that I might pro­vide that kind of moment for a reader. 
Audrey: As a per­son, boy that’s hard. When my sis­ters and I describe peo­ple, we always find our­selves falling upon the same rubric of fun­ny, smart, and nice. They claim they haven’t, but I believe they have, more than once, sub­tly sug­gest­ed that I might want to work a bit on the nice part. I am a strange com­bi­na­tion of mis­an­thrope and some­one exceed­ing­ly fond of and loy­al to the core of peo­ple I adore.
Lau­rie: Thanks so much, Audrey! I can’t wait to see TEACH YOUR BUFFALO TO PLAY DRUMS and all of your oth­er upcom­ing projects.
Read on about Audrey, the buf­fa­lo, and more on the rest of her sum­mer 2011 blog tour:

SCBWI Western Washington conference 2011 wrap-up: part 1


Yes, the SCBWI West­ern Wash­ing­ton’s 20th Annu­al Writ­ing & Illus­trat­ing for Chil­dren con­fer­ence was over a month ago. I’m final­ly com­ing down from the high that week­end always leaves me with–and recov­er­ing from the hard work and long hours that go into orga­niz­ing it. So, I thought I’d share some of the high points (for me) here.
On Fri­day, April 15, 2011, I attend­ed our first ever Non­fic­tion Inten­sive, pre­sent­ed by Lionel Ben­der, Edi­to­r­i­al Direc­tor at Ben­der Richard­son White (BRW) and Jim Whit­ing, author and free­lance edi­tor. They gave us a great over of work-for-hire non­fic­tion from ini­tial con­cept all the way to pro­mo­tion and reviews, with every­thing in between. Some of the key take­aways for me were:

  • Always ask for a style guide
  • Con­sid­er get­ting your own con­sul­tant to fact-check for you
  • Always think glob­al­ly for the broad­est appeal
  • In many high­ly graph­i­cal non­fic­tion titles, design and lay­out come first, with author fit­ting appro­pri­ate text into des­ig­nat­ed spaces.
  • Nev­er sub­mit a man­u­script that is under the request­ed word count. Bet­ter to be over if nec­es­sary, but try to stay as close as possible!
  • Try not to use any sources more than 4–5 years old.

Sat­ur­day, we start­ed out with the editor/agent/art direc­tor pan­el. I always love hear­ing a) opti­mistic, b) down-to-earth friend­ly, and c) sim­i­lar these indus­try pro­fes­sion­als are. Far the doom and gloom sce­nar­ios we hear so often (pic­ture books are dead, ebooks are going to destroy the world, etc.), these peo­ple believe in the pow­er of sto­ry, and the need for those who can deliv­er it. They’re human beings (and darn nice ones, usu­al­ly, if they’re in chil­dren’s pub­lish­ing). And they all want to find the same thing, a great book.
Deb­o­rah Wiles gave one of the best keynotes I’ve ever heard. She’s a human being, too, and one of the most authen­tic and love­ly ones I’ve had the plea­sure of meet­ing. I was not the only one in the room dab­bing my eyes and try­ing not to start the day with my make­up all a mess!
For Sat­ur­day’s after­noon break­out ses­sions, I first went to Lionel Ben­der’s “Work­ing With a Book Pack­ager.” Did you know most work-for-hire projects are pub­lished with­in about 6 months of when they are STARTED? I also went to Lionel’s “Vis­it­ing Book Fairs and Exhi­bi­tions.” I can’t wait until ALA mid­win­ter is right here in Seat­tle in 2013! How great would it be to have a book to pro­mote by then? I also learned about revi­sion from the amaz­ing Deb­o­rah Wiles in a stuffed-to-the-gills room. She ana­lyzed some won­der­ful pic­ture books for uni­ver­sal exam­ples we should all try to emu­late. Some of her tips included:

  • Every good sto­ry has a surprise–the end isn’t real­ly the end.
  • Stick with NOUNS and VERBS!
  • Incor­po­rate both con­trasts and echoes.
  • Every emo­tion has an ACTION. What does it LOOK like? Show, don’t tell.
  • “The bet­ter you know your own sto­ry, the bet­ter writer you will be.”
  • Make and keep lists!

Sat­ur­day night we ate, drank, and danced the night away with both the fac­ul­ty and the atten­dees. Ah, could it get any better?
I’ll answer that in the next blog post!

Celebrate Children’s Book Week!


Chil­dren’s Book Week has been cel­e­brat­ed through the Unit­ed States since 1919 with appear­ances by authors and illus­tra­tors, par­ties, sto­ry­telling, and oth­er book-relat­ed events in schools, libraries, book­stores, etc., and this year it takes place May 2–8!
Don’t you just love that poster (above) cre­at­ed by the tal­ent­ed Peter Brown? I do! You can order one for your­self right here.
Here are some of my favorite ways you can cel­e­brate (this week–or anytime!):

Local­ly, Third Place Books in Lake For­est Park has some fun events sched­uled, includ­ing book talks with Mark Kurlan­sky and his daugh­ter Talia  (WORLD WITHOUT FISH) and Sean Beau­doin (YOU KILLED WESLEY PAYNE) tonight (May 3rd) at 7:00 p.m. and Carmela D’Am­i­co (SUKI THE VERY LOUD BUNNY) on Sun­day, May 8th, at 4:00 p.m. They’ll also have a craft table set up all week for kids to make book­marks and will be offer­ing grab bag coupons.
So, no excuses–it’s time to celebrate!

Do good by reading good YA: WHAT YOU WISH FOR


I just pre-ordered my copy of WHAT YOU WISH FOR: A BOOK FOR DARFUR, and I am so look­ing for­ward to read­ing it.
Com­ing from Pen­guin Group’s G.P. Putnam’s Sons in Sep­tem­ber, 2011, the book is a col­lec­tion of YA poet­ry and short sto­ries writ­ten by var­i­ous authors, includ­ing Cor­nelia Funke, Meg Cabot, R. L. Stine, John Green, Ann M. Mar­tin, Alexan­der McCall Smith, Cyn­thia Voigt, Karen Hesse, Joyce Car­ol Oates, Nik­ki Gio­van­ni, Jane Yolen, Nate Pow­ell, Gary Soto, Jeanne DuPrau, Fran­cis­co X. Stork, Mar­i­lyn Nel­son, Nao­mi Shi­hab Nye, and Sofia Quin­tero.
Prof­its from the book sales will be donat­ed to the Unit­ed Nations High Com­mis­sion for Refugees (UNHCR), an orga­ni­za­tion build­ing libraries in Dar­fur refugee camps in Chad.
Read more here or pre-order your own copy here.

More thoughts on the speculative nonfiction debate

Roger Sut­ton put up this post on the Read Roger blog for con­tin­u­ing the dis­cus­sion about Marc Aron­son’s “New Knowl­edge” arti­cle in the Horn Book, in which Marc argues that non­fic­tion authors should be allowed to spec­u­late, draw con­clu­sions, and reveal their points of view in their books.
While I found Marc’s ter­mi­nol­o­gy of “new” ver­sus “old” non­fic­tion to be pejo­ra­tive, I do agree with his basic the­sis that spec­u­la­tion in non­fic­tion can be valu­able when done well (which he elab­o­rates on here and here and here and here–all worth read­ing!). The “done well” part is the key, I think, and involves both lay­ing out the foun­da­tions for your con­clu­sions as well as explic­it­ly point­ing out to the read­er what is accept­ed to be fact and what is spec­u­la­tion (by any­one, author includ­ed). Many of today’s non­fic­tion authors for kids, includ­ing both Marc and Jim Mur­phy, are already doing that, and I believe it’s a good thing.
But one anony­mous com­menter to Rogers’s post dis­trusts this approach:

“The new NF seems to be all about embrac­ing the slant and delib­er­ate­ly writ­ing non-fic­tion from a spe­cif­ic view­point. Whether I agree with the author or not, I think it’s per­ilous­ly close to pro­pa­gan­da and I don’t like it.”

Okay, I can under­stand the fears behind a view­point like that, but ew, boy, does it make my skin crawl! Why? Because shar­ing an opin­ion based on one’s own broad and deep research, and then open­ly stat­ing that it is your opin­ion, is NOTHING like pro­pa­gan­da! Pro­pa­gan­da would be mak­ing a slant by manip­u­lat­ing the research or by not admit­ting where the facts stopped and con­jec­ture began. A good non­fic­tion author would NEVER con­sid­er doing either one. And any work that tried to would be quick­ly called out and criticized.
In our polar­ized, con­flict­ed soci­ety we need more oppor­tu­ni­ties to share well-rea­soned opin­ions with each oth­er, not less. This kind of debate based on the inter­pre­ta­tion of known facts is how we move soci­ety for­ward. Equat­ing opin­ions backed up by ratio­nal argu­ments with pro­pa­gan­da gives us per­mis­sion to ignore them, per­mis­sion to stay stuck in our old ways, per­mis­sion to hate. I may dis­agree with you, but I’d love to know how you came to your opin­ion so I can under­stand it bet­ter, so we can at least have a con­ver­sa­tion about it. And if you ask me to explain mine, to back it up, to jus­ti­fy it, I just might dis­cov­er that it real­ly doesn’t hold water and I have to read­just my thinking.
Marc responds to the pro­pa­gan­da com­ment him­self here. In his post, he says:

“Pro­pa­gan­da is writ­ing in which the goal of influ­enc­ing the read­er is para­mount — you select what you say and how you say it to manip­u­late, entrance, alarm, con­vince the audi­ence. It is a form of adver­tis­ing. Any book I write, edit, or praise lives and dies by the rule of “fal­si­fi­ca­tion.” That is, no mat­ter what posi­tion I begin with, or what pas­sion I expe­ri­ence in writ­ing, or what goal I have in telling the sto­ry, my first oblig­a­tion is to evi­dence. If I find evi­dence that con­tra­dicts the sto­ry I had planned to tell or the mes­sage I intend­ed to get across, or my moti­va­tion in writ­ing, I must still share it. So long as an author does his or her best to abide by that stan­dard, that book fits my stan­dards for NF.” 

Yes, I total­ly agree! He goes on to say:

“I say that writ­ers can, if they choose, show their hands, reveal the dog they have in this fight, show their own per­son­al pas­sion to inves­ti­gate and tell one his­tor­i­cal sto­ry. That tells the read­er why he or she might care — it is why the author cared.”

I love that—as a read­er, as a par­ent, and as an author! Then, how­ev­er, he adds this in a com­ment to his own post:

“I think that con­cern exists more broad­ly in kids books where NF is in this strange place where it is crit­i­cized for being dull, yet many want it to be neu­tral and “objec­tive.” In oth­er words we are both urged to take the dis­tant voice of the text­book and crit­i­cized for doing so.”

Um, I was with you all the way, Marc, right up until you equat­ed neu­tral and objec­tive with dull and dis­tant. I don’t believe they are, or ever will be, mutu­al­ly exclu­sive. Good writ­ing is good writ­ing, whether it is spec­u­la­tive or not. 🙂

Drawing Lines in Nonfiction: “Old” vs. “New”

The March/April 2011 issue of The Horn Book Mag­a­zine is a spe­cial issue devot­ed to “Fact, Fic­tion, and In Between.” It’s a fan­tas­tic com­pendi­um of arti­cles and notes from some of today’s top writ­ers of non­fic­tion for kids, and it’s giv­ing me a lot to think about. I’ll prob­a­bly post more on these thoughts lat­er, but for now, I want­ed to explore the ideas in Marc Aron­son’s arti­cle called “New Knowl­edge.”
Marc says that today’s “new” non­fic­tion is dif­fer­ent from “old” non­fic­tion in that it does­n’t just present the exist­ing work of adult schol­ars in a for­mat young read­ers can digest, but instead dis­cov­ers new knowl­edge and spec­u­lates on its mean­ings for the first time. He con­cludes with:

“Just as we have both real­is­tic fic­tion and spec­u­la­tive fic­tion, maybe we ought to split up our non­fic­tion sec­tion into books that aim to trans­late the known and books that ven­ture out into areas where knowl­edge is just tak­ing shape.”

While I def­i­nite­ly admire some of the works he cites as rep­re­sen­ta­tive of the “new” non­fic­tion, includ­ing Susan Camp­bell Bar­to­let­ti’s They Called Them­selves the K.K.K. and Tanya Lee Stone’s  Almost Astro­nauts, his asser­tions make me ner­vous on a cou­ple of levels.
First, the line of “old” ver­sus “new” implies “not-as-good” ver­sus “bet­ter.” I don’t think this is nec­es­sar­i­ly true. Books that take exist­ing knowl­edge and syn­the­size it in a way that make it palat­able to kids are impor­tant, and they can be very, very good. I think this is part of what ran­kles Jim Mur­phy so in his rebut­tal blog post on the top­ic, “The Line of Dif­fer­ence.”
Sec­ond, by asso­ci­a­tion, is that he seems to imply that spec­u­la­tion in non­fic­tion is always a good thing. I agree that it can be a good thing, if done care­ful­ly and well. But if not, spec­u­la­tion in non­fic­tion can be a very dan­ger­ous thing indeed. Now, I real­ly don’t think Marc is say­ing that spec­u­la­tion should be done with­out sol­id research to back it up or with­out call­ing atten­tion to the fact that it is, in fact, spec­u­la­tion, but there’s a chance it could be tak­en that way by some read­ers. Many a won­der­ful non­fic­tion book would be ruined if the author felt com­pelled to spec­u­late beyond the facts to fit their work into a more desir­able cat­e­go­ry. As a non­fic­tion author, I am only going to spec­u­late on some­thing if the sub­ject I am writ­ing about calls for it; I have been com­plete­ly con­vinced I am right; I am able to explain how I came to those con­clu­sions so read­ers can judge for them­selves; and I’m going to tell the read­er they are MY con­clu­sions, no one else’s. Is it valu­able for kids to be exposed to that kind of spec­u­la­tion in non­fic­tion? You bet! Can non­fic­tion be valu­able and cur­rent and rel­e­vant with­out it? You bet! Do we need a way to dis­tin­guish between the two in this way? I don’t real­ly think so. Good non­fic­tion, whether it con­tains high-qual­i­ty spec­u­la­tion or not, is good nonfiction.
For me, a more use­ful divi­sion is between what I’ll call “straight” non­fic­tion ver­sion cre­ative non­fic­tion. Straight non­fic­tion is the non­fic­tion I remem­ber being exposed to as a child of the ear­ly 70s in rur­al Wis­con­sin. I admit I was an infor­ma­tion junkie, and I would pore over our ency­clo­pe­dia sets (thank you Mom and Dad!) on cold win­ter days, undaunt­ed by the dry, “just-the-facts-ma’am” presentation.
But when I first read cre­ative non­fic­tion, it set my brain on fire. Using fic­tion­al tech­niques to turn facts into a sto­ry is what I view as a big­ger shift and a more use­ful divi­sion than the one Aron­sen proposed.
If I’m doing a research project, I’ll prob­a­bly want to seek out straight non­fic­tion so I can find the infor­ma­tion I need quick­ly. Are these types of books valu­able and nec­es­sary? Of course.
But if I’m read­ing for plea­sure, sim­ply for the joy of learn­ing some­thing new, by all means wrap it up in an engag­ing sto­ry for me! Tra­cy Kid­der is a mas­ter at this for adults (Squee! I got to attend his lec­ture last week, and he’s cur­rent­ly work­ing on a book about writ­ing cre­ative non­fic­tion!); Steven John­son’s The Ghost Map is one of the most riv­et­ing books I’ve ever read, fic­tion or non­fic­tion; and I’d count BOTH Marc Aron­son AND Jim Mur­phy among the best doing this kind of writ­ing, for chil­dren or adults.
As a read­er, I most­ly want to know if the book I’m pick­ing up is straight non­fic­tion or cre­ative non­fic­tion, because they serve dif­fer­ent pur­pos­es for me, both of which I need, but at dif­fer­ent times. I don’t need to know, when I pick it up, if a non­fic­tion book will have spec­u­la­tion or not, or if the knowl­edge can be found in oth­er books. I can encounter that along the way, either in the text or in the backmatter.
So, I under­stand the dis­tinc­tion Marc was mak­ing in his arti­cle, and I great­ly admire him and the oth­er authors who are break­ing new ground in their research and think­ing and shar­ing it with young read­ers. I just don’t know if “old” ver­sus “new” is a nec­es­sary or help­ful divi­sion, and I find his choice of ter­mi­nol­o­gy to be insult­ing to the many won­der­ful authors who ded­i­cate their lives to research­ing, orga­niz­ing, and pre­sent­ing the facts to chil­dren in their non-spec­u­la­tive non­fic­tion works.

February 26th is National Fairy Tale Day!

I love fairy tales. My hus­band loves fairy tales (thanks to him we own an almost com­plete set of the Pan­theon Fairy Tale and Folk­lore Library!). And of course, my kids love fairy tales. Who doesn’t?

Old pho­tos of Snow White and one of her dwarfs—Hungry, maybe?

While search­ing for ideas for this mon­th’s Pic­ture Book Marathon, I’ve been read­ing more fairy tales and folk­tales than I nor­mal­ly do. And I’ve been lov­ing every minute of it!
Imag­ine my sur­prise when I dis­cov­ered the Feb­ru­ary 26th is Nation­al Fairy Tale Day! I can’t find an offi­cial source for that, but oth­er peo­ple seem to cel­e­brate it, so why not? I’ll take any excuse to share some of my new­ly dis­cov­ered favorites with the kids at bed­time tonight, or maybe I’ll even read them some of the retellings I’ve writ­ten this month. 🙂
Look­ing for more fairy tale facts or fun? Here are some resources I’ve found:

  • SurLaLune is THE place to start research­ing fairy tales on the web. It fea­tures 49 anno­tat­ed fairy tales, includ­ing their his­to­ries, sim­i­lar tales across cul­tures, mod­ern inter­pre­ta­tions and over 1,500 illus­tra­tions. Wow!
  • Here’s a great old post writ­ten by Han­nah Boyd about Why Fairy Tales Mat­ter.

“[Fairy tales] work through so many per­son­al and cul­tur­al anx­i­eties, yet they do it in a safe, ‘once upon a time’ way,” says Maria Tatar, a pro­fes­sor at Har­vard Col­lege who writes about, and teach­es class­es on, fairy tales. “Fairy tales have a real role in lib­er­at­ing the imag­i­na­tion of chil­dren. No mat­ter how vio­lent they are, the pro­tag­o­nist always survives.”

I’d rather just read and enjoy (and write!) them, though. Two of my favorites have always been The Ugly Duck­ling and Puss in Boots. I guess I’ve always been a suck­er for a good under­dog story.
What are your favorites, and why?

p.s. Feb­ru­ary is also Nation­al Love Your Library Month. Why not head to your local library and pick up some fairy tales to enjoy with some­one spe­cial tonight?

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