Back to Work

Returning to my regular work today was difficult. Of course, the morning was spent greeting colleagues and cleaning off my desk. So it was not until right at the end that I got around to some actual editing. The feeling walking up to the front door was bittersweet--familiar, comfortable . . . but required. (That's the bitter part.)

I received word back from my new freelance writing job for a Christian magazine publisher that my piece was accepted with only minor adjustments. (And most of those were style issues--I'm not used to theirs yet.) One suggestion I made turned into a second (very small) assignment, so that was a pleasant surprise.

Big Week

So much has happened this week. First, I was able to spend two full mornings working on writing. And I do mean working on writing . . . not actually writing. There is so much to be done in the way of researching publishers, researching topics (what topics are already done to death by which publishers and who has what holes), charting a plan, resubmitting, etc. I didn't hear anything from the October Bell people, so I'm planning to resubmit that next week someplace else.

Here's a peek at my to-do list for the next week/weeks:
1) Join SCBWI.
2) Check out writing conferences to attend. (NYC in January?)
3) Think seriously about putting together a website.
4) Re-submit October Bell and Which End Up? (8/20).
5) Study publishers who have/don't have books about adoption.
6) Look for publishers who welcome/encourage manuscripts about disabled children.
7) Write another poem for the "series."

Lots to do. And I start back to my "real" job on Monday!

Publisher Research

I've spent several days and tons of hours poring over the 2009 Children's Writer's & Illustrator's Market. (Incidentally, do they ever need a good editor!) The articles by authors and publishers have given invaluable advice on today's market. They've also given me encouragement to keep submitting even after rejection. It's amazing how many times some of these people were rejected before finding a publisher. I've been marking the publishers who accept unsolicited manuscripts and noting who is interested in what kinds of books. A number of publishers are looking for books about children with handicaps--which I just happen to have.

Another interesting section of the book is about various writing conferences and support groups. Many of the authors cite those two outlets are primary influences and helps in their getting published. I'm looking into some conferences here in the Southeast this fall.

Now on to the 2010 guide!

Gilead

I finished Marilynne Robinson's Gilead a couple of weeks ago. The story was at first difficult reading--heavy, that is, and serious. I was afraid that it was going to be a bit esoteric for me. But I really grew to love the story, the characters, and Robinson's writing style. The language and themes were all so lovely and tranquil yet with a throbbing undercurrent of faith-based questioning that (at least for me) strengthened rather than diminished the book's effectiveness--not at all preachy but very moving and instructive. There is also an element or two of surprise in this otherwise placid letter from a preacher to his son that makes the ending sparkle with thoughtful significance. The book makes me want to read the author's other books, Home and Housekeeping.

Poetry

Today I worked on my poetry "collection." (I use quotation marks because there are only five poems so far, so I'm not sure that they qualify as a collection. They are, however, related somewhat, so perhaps they do qualify.) They are free-verse poems based on stories that my father-in-law has told me about his childhood. The poems are Radio, Shoes, Horseradish, Football, and today's new one, Outhouse. There is very little market for poetry, but these were just begging to be written. It's amazing how much time and energy go into the artful compression of thought that makes poetry poetry. Exact, sparse, and imageful words take effort; there is a lot of paring away of unnecessary bits. Sometimes I worry that I take so much away that the image is visible only to me, like covering up most of a photograph and expecting someone else to recognize the picture: it seems so obvious to the one doing the covering or the paring. Perhaps I'll publish some of the poems (or parts of them) here at some point.

Movie Version a Flop

Wow. The movie version of The Tale of Despereaux was a disappointment. Much of what made the book delightful--namely the author-reader interaction--was gone from the film script. Characters were altered drastically or invented capriciously, e.g., the jailer/unfit father and the strange vegetable man. And poor Miggery Sow was not given her due--she was a much more pitiful creature than the movie led one to believe. And Roscuro's redemption seemed a bit over the top. I wonder what Kate Di Camillo thought of the version they presented? No surprise that the movie didn't come close to the book. Most of them don't.

Juvenile Fiction Read

I failed to mention in the last post that I read The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo on the plane last week. What a delightful story! DiCamillo artfully captures the interest of the young reader throughout, urging said reader to look up words, listen carefully, heed advice. She capitalizes on the childish fascination with things a bit gross and scary and weaves a tale of bravery and forgiveness despite overwhelming adversity. The first chapter, in which the large-eared, wide-eyed mouse is born ends in a way that compels the reader to read on:

"But, reader, he did live.
This is his story."

The drama involves said mouse, several unscrupulous rats, and Miggery Sow (yes, reader, named for a pig), a pitiful, not-too-bright farm girl, who's been abandoned and abused.

Here are a couple of favorite quotations among many memorable lines:

"Reader, you must know that an interesting fate (sometimes involving rats, sometimes not) awaits almost everyone, mouse or man, who does not conform."

(Oddly enough, I didn't find the book a tirade on conformity, as the previous sentence would suggest.)

"Unfortunately, a rat can hang from a chandelier for only so long before he is discovered. This would be true at even the loudest party."

The true test was giving it to my 12-year-old boy, who devoured the 270-page book in a day. Definitely a must-read for the 7-12 age group.