When Seeking Agent Representation* for Picture Book Writers

 

*Disclosure: I never sought representation for my picture book texts because very few agents are open to such. Both my previous agents did represent my picture books but took me as a client for my Middle Grade novels.

 

The conventional wisdom on agent-seeking is that if you approach such for picture books, it is better to have at least three manuscripts polished and ready to go.

 

Why?

 

In one way, this is counter intuitive. Every manuscript is its own animal, and a great highly marketable one is just that. Writers who seek agent representation with longer works are not expected to have more than that one ready for presentation.

 

In another way, picture book texts require less time (though no less creative spark and skill) to pen, revise, re-revise, and polish, and agents are not interested in investing energy in a relationship with a one-shot wonder.

 

Put another way, Agent might be saying to Writer, “If we’re to become working partners, you better show me that you can do this again and again (and again) because, unlike novels, it’s possible to write twelve picture book texts in one year. I don’t deal with slouches.”

Or something to that effect.

 

Just another of the publishing world’s peculiarities.

The Matter of the AUTHOR NOTE

 

I’m fond of reading Author Notes at the end of novels, but I may be in a minority.

 

To be clear, I understand the reluctance many feel about this matter. I want to be succinct and say that, for me, an Author Note is satisfying to read only if it’s short and personal. Like a cherry on the slice of cake I just managed to finish.

An added zing, a finishing touch. An Author Note needs to work like a decorative bow tied to a well wrapped gift.

 

A good post on this can be found here.

 

For fiction, it’s important not to slip into lecture mode. I’m afraid the tendency to explain, self-analyze, and even apologize— is what many authors pass for their final note. I plead guilty myself.

 

A good Author Note does one simple thing: it ties the fictional story to the author’s life experience in a way that enriches the story for the reader. Too many authors write these notes to make up for what they perceive will be criticism or in response to Beta readers’ feedback. An Author Note shouldn’t be a defense of one’s work, nor added material that should have been woven into the story itself.  Again, I plead guilty to these faux pas.

 

While Author Notes can enrich a novel, I find them a burden when tacked to picture book texts. Writers who have polished their skills writing for the educational market are prone to add Author Notes to trade picture books, sometimes longer than the story texts. Thus, a fictional tale becomes a mini textbook. Publishers seem to love this, because it makes these picture books marketable in both the trade and the educational markets.

 

I’m not a publisher. As a reader, I never liked fiction laden with footnotes, and these Author Notes (as well as “Side Bars”) sink fun fiction faster than I can say PLEASE DON’T.

For the third time, I plead guilty to this, also.

 

So, my take on Author Notes is keep it interesting and above all—

keep it short.

RHYMING ZONE

 

There is a truth universally acknowledged that a picture book writer in pursuit of le mot juste, must not make it a rhyming one.

Picture books, the ones conceived for the youngest listeners who adore rhyme. Imagine that.

The reasons agents and editors give is that most of us think we can rhyme well, but most of us can’t. Add to that are commercial considerations with a long view to foreign languages editions. Translating rhyming texts is even harder than rhyming well in the original language.

All true. But still.

Rhyme has charm. Rhyme has beat. Rhyme tickles and tingles the bottom of feet.

Gotta get up. Gotta dance. Love to rhyme?

Take a chance.

So, as I just demonstrated, it is hard to do well.

But if you must, then do. Take a chance. Some texts just beg for it.

The Special Demands of Picture Book Writing

 

The other day, I watched an old panel discussion of famous novelists whose books have been turned into successful films. YouTube is full of old treasures like these. Between writing, revising, and laundry— hanging out with these writers (all of them now gone) is my favorite sort of break.

 

Not one of the writers on this panel wrote their novels’ film adaptations. One, Kurt Vonnegut, said he simply couldn’t because writing a novel is what he does best and writing a screenplay is too different.

 

It occurred to me that while many think they could write picture books, few who try actually write true picture books. Vignettes, shorter short stories, a scene--- all pass for  picture book texts in the eyes of beginning writers. True picture books are something different.

 

True picture book texts are poetry, rhyming or not. In addition, they are screenplays, where the main action is told in images. They also require the skill of flash-fiction writing, as the word count tops up at 600-800 words. Unlike this blog post, it shouldn’t use passive construction. The story must be layered and complete.

 

I’m almost certain Kurt Vonnegut would have said he couldn’t write a picture book.

AUSTRALIA DAY

 

    My wall calendar tells me today is Australia Day.

To Australians, it marks the anniversary of the 1788 arrival of the First Fleet of British ships at Port Jackson, which is the beginning of the country of Australia we know now.

To me, it’s a reminder of a classic. Judith Viorst’s Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

First published in 1972, it’s still a best seller and an iconic text. Alexander, an American kid, is having such a bad day that he thinks moving to Australia will solve his predicament. It’s logical, in the way kid logic works. Australia is far away. Australia is upside down, in the southern hemisphere. Australia is shrouded in otherness and it’s “not here.”

Many adults never outgrow this sort of thinking. When “here” is hard, “elsewhere” will be better.

At the end of his terrible no good day, his mother assures Alexander that tomorrow is another day and, besides, there are bad days “even in Australia.”

I’ve never been to Australia, but my Aussie friends and acquaintances gave me the impression Australia is culturally rather similar to the United States, especially when compared many other parts of the world.*

Viorst’s choice here is poignant, because there is no running away from challenging times. There’s only moving forward, for tomorrow is another day.

 *(Incidentally, in the Australian and New Zealand version of this book, Alexander wants to move to Timbuktu, which I find less successful. He could have wished to move to the United States for a similar effect. )

This kind of Australia Day I can celebrate, and do every day. The assurance that tomorrow—  everything is possible.

Ya-Ya-Hoo, Anyone?

Kids love animal sounds in stories.

When spelling out animal sounds, we aim to approximate. After all, MEH is not exactly what the sheep says. WOOF is not exactly what the dog says, and MEOW is definitely not what a cat says. Just talk to any of mine, and you’ll know what I mean.

When I first drafted my picture book, (THERE’S A TURKEY AT THE DOOR) I was determined this turkey was not going to speak English. While she was relatable, this was not the sort of story where an animal says, “How are you today” and “Where's my kibble.” I had had my fill of anthropomorphic animal stories after reading hundreds of them to my kids. This turkey was going to remain, well, a turkey.

I posted a question on a kid-lit writers board asking for suggestions as to how to spell the sound of a wild turkey. I got the ever-helpful links to actual wild turkey sounds. Before posting the question, I had already listened to such and couldn’t figure how to make the sounds in English spelling, so it was not very helpful. One writer only said, “This is the oddest question ever posted on this board.” That didn’t help, either.

I was stuck. I had the story, and I had the character. But my character needed to speak Turkey. (Not Turkish 😊)

A few months later, I visited the zoo with my kids. In the petting zoo section, a large turkey hen kept following me around. She talked the whole time and wouldn’t leave my side. I saw it as a sign to get back to my story. But I still couldn't spell words out of her calls.

A tall woman in zoo worker uniform smiled at me. “Ya-ya-hoo has taken to you,” she said.

“Ya-ya-what?” I said.

“That’s her name,” the petting-zoo keeper said. “Kind of the sound she makes.”

I listened.

If you stretched and twisted your ear, it was an almost-sort-of-not-quite the sound my new turkey pal was making.

I mean, not really. But when we returned home, (without her) my fictional turkey had her sound.

The Surprise Twist Ending

Yesterday, real-life micro-drama in my humble abode provided proof that the surprise twist ending, almost a cliché requirement in picture books these days, may echo reality.

One of my cats, the gloriously furry Mr. Sokolov, has been asserting his place as the alpha cat ever since our smallest youngest cat’s arrival a year and a half ago. Miss Nougat is half his size in weight and two-thirds in length. She’s skittish, hesitant, and most of all she’s the new one on this block.

Mr. Sokolov^

Miss Nougat^

In feline language, asserting dominance means chasing into a corner, taking over the food bowl, pawing and forcing another to vacate a desired sitting perch, and even using another’s dedicated litterbox and spraying its sides with  marking scent. Miss Nougat spent her first few months with us terrified at the sight of Mr. Sokolov, cowering and running to hide under a piece of furniture she rightly assessed could accommodate her girth but not his.

With our support and occasional intervention, Miss Nougat gained in confidence. The two can be in the same room, and even share a large bed in a relaxed mode. But Miss Nougat is ever watchful for the occasional re-awakening of the old pattern, which mistook her for prey. She's ready to bolt to her secure crawl space. I, their human, am also ready to intervene and let Mr. Sokolov know I expect lions to lay down with lambs in my house. I tell him it's a rehearsal for the end times.

Yesterday, Mr. Sokolov ran about the house as if he had ants in his pants, only he doesn’t wear pants. I kept checking on him and his mad dashes, but could not figure what irked him so. To be sure, I asked. But he just stared, and then bolted again. I should mention that all this was going on while I was attempting to focus on something else.

I then heard what sounded like two cats dashing about. Oh, no. Sokolov must be back to hunting poor Nougat. I sprang into action.

And then I saw them. Miss nougat standing with her tiny body over him, looking mighty pleased she had caught her prey.

It’s peaceful here again. My lecture that lambs, too, should not eat lions, must have done the trick.

Blessed Are the Friends

You’ve heard the ubiquitous question, “where do your stories/ideas come from?”

Invariably the sweeping answer is, “everywhere.”

But a truer answer is that different people tend to get ideas in idiosyncratic ways, specific to them.

I know writers who get a lot of stories for fiction novels from newspaper accounts of real life stories.

I know writers who get story ideas while walking and looking at houses, imagining the families who live there.

I know writers who get ideas for fiction from reading others’ fiction, and imagining how much more they’d have done with those stories.

About a year ago, I realized many of my longer stories got their themes or protagonists from a friend of mine. One specific friend. We have our regular walk & talk, and I’d be telling her something I had experienced way back, when she’d say, “why don’t you write your next story about it?”

She is not a writer, but an excellent reader. I owe the last five MG novel themes to her.

No Cat or Dog Stories, Please...

When it comes to what picture book publishers are looking for, there are general please-don’ts some editors and agents have posted over the last few years.

One I have seen a few times is “no cute cats or dogs stories.”

Nothing wrong with the above, it’s just that the market is saturated.

And yet, I keep seeing more picture books that are new with feline or canine protagonists.

Another is no rhyming stories.

I keep seeing those, also. And I’m glad, because as rhyming has gone out of fashion in “serious” poetry, its last vestige is in picture books, and we all *love* rhyme when done well.

 Here’s a good example—

May I suggest we write the stories we most want to write and more-or-less ignore these please-don’ts?

& Tell great stories &

About STRIFE and STRIVING

There is a spiritual notion that the reason for suffering in this world is so we may experience moments of happiness. After all, if we were blissful at all times, how would we even know it?

 

Most modern picture books are based on a similar notion. There has to be a problem. It is better if the stakes are high, and the problem is a BIG problem. There must be an attempt to solve the problem. The formula recommends three attempts increasing in intensity before the resolution. Striving and struggling leads to a happy or satisfying ending.

 

Reading stories works as a catharsis. The reader and listeners undergo a whole cycle of worldly strife in a few minutes. It also serves pedagogically as a map for struggle and triumph over what all of us go through and will continue to go through as long as we live.

 

 

But recently I found myself reading some picture books that were of a different stripe. They were written years ago, and it’s easier to locate them in a library where deaccession isn’t frequent, or in collectors’ bookstores.

 

 

DS gave me just such a gem he found in a specialized bookstore. A PENNY AND A PERIWINKLE by Josephine Haskell Aldridge was published in 1961. The main character has no conflict, and, in fact, pushes senseless stimulation away. It is meditation about being content with a simple and purposeful life.  

 

It was a gift for my birthday, and I’ve read and re-read it almost every day since. I think young kids would love it.

 

I wish there were many more like it on the market.