DON'T DO IT! - how NOT to write a picture book by Malachy Doyle

 1. Don’t think it’s easy. You need to have lived. You need to have read (lots and lots).  You need to have something to say. You need to have developed a voice, a style, an ease of telling…

2. Don’t over-write it. Write the story, then cut, cut, cut! Every word needs to need to be there, and the fewer the better (preferably under 500). Prune the beginning, cut to the quick, then chop, rebuild, chop, rebuild, chop, chop, chop till it’s perfect.  

 3. Don’t describe stuff. Just tell the story – the speech and the action. The illustrator will add colour to your world, and depth to your characters and their story. 

5. Don’t illustrate it, unless you’re an illustrator (and a very good one, at that).

 

6. Don’t ask someone else to illustrate it for you, either. The publisher will find the right person.

7. Don’t tell the illustrator how to do their job. You wouldn’t want them telling you how to write it.

 9. Don’t rhyme, unless the story steadfastly refuses to be told any other way. And unless you’re a brilliant rhymester, with perfect scansion.

10. Don’t lose touch with children. You’re writing for the young people of now and of the future. You need to know, understand and very much like them.    

11. Don’t skimp on the reading aloud. Rhythm, and a delightful ease in the telling, are key - and only reading your story aloud many many times will show if it’s perfect.

 

12. Don’t just write a story. Write one that needs to be told, with something real and true of yourself in it. Write with heart, from somewhere deep inside you. Write something that truly affects and enchants the reader / listener - something that matters.

13. Don’t make it too easy for your main character. Get them into trouble. Then more trouble. Then, just when you think it couldn’t get any worse...

 

14. Don’t think it’s easy. (Didn't I say that somewhere before?) Only the best is good enough for children. The best words in the best places, the best characters in the best stories… 

15. Don't expect to make a fortune. Or even a decent living. Do it because you have to.  Do it because you have stories inside you demanding to be told. Write because you're a writer.

16. And don’t send a story out till it’s finished. A picture book may take months, even years, and hundreds of drafts, to get right. Ask it every question, look at it from every angle, till you’re completely satisfied with it. And then…

GOOD LUCK!

(with thanks to James and Celia Catchpole, Martin Waddell, Mem Fox and everyone else along the way…)

Malachy’s latest picture book is called Peek-a-Book, and it’s illustrated by Rowan Martin and published by Parragon Books on August 8.

His storybook Pete and the Five-a-Side Vampires is published by Firefly Press on September 18 - and the most exciting thing about this one, for Malachy, is that it’s illustrated by his daughter Hannah!  Whoopy-doo!  

Introducing... Michelle Robinson

Hello, I'm children's author Michelle Robinson. Thank you for welcoming me into the Picture Book Den! I've been reading the blog for a long time, so I feel very honoured to find myself ‘on the inside’. I thought my first post ought to be an introduction - after all, contrary to the belief of anyone who asks me what I do for a living, there’s absolutely no evidence that I am indeed  ‘the next JK Rowling’, so you probably won’t have heard of me. Yet. 

My first picture book came out in 2012, I’ve now got ten on the shelves, another ten in production, many more doing the rounds and a squillion duff ones cluttering up my desktop. Maybe I’m not the next JKR, but I'll happily settle for The First Me.

FACTS: I love picture books and am woefully short on shelf space.

I used to be an advertising concept bod and copywriter. I wrote radio ads for a long time, so setting up ideas and resolving them quickly - as well as reading them aloud - set me up well for writing picture books. 

I met fellow Picture Book Denner, Malachy Doyle on an Arvon course that he tutored some years ago. It was through his help and guidance that I found my agent and got published. Malachy will be on my Christmas list forever.

When writing, I try to choose the simplest words and use as few as possible. I chuck in the odd big word as I don’t believe in talking down to children. Books are a great place to learn new words. (As a child, I adored reading the dictionary. Still do.)

I got majorly into reading when I moved schools aged five, spotted a girl with her head in a Famous Five book and thought 'That looks fun'. She became my best friend and I spent all my pocket money on second hand Blytons.

I always dreamed of becoming a children’s author. My dad told me it didn’t matter that we weren’t rich; I could achieve anything I wanted if I worked hard enough. I believed him; I believed in myself. I worked hard and my dream came true. I can’t tell you how incredible that feels. Now I give my own children the same advice my dad gave me - and I have my very own books to back it up.

I have two children, Arthur (four) and Heidi (two). They take up most of my time, which is magic - but I do appreciate the two mornings a week when they're at nursery and I can write (and iron, vacuum, bake, eat all the baking, etc.).

I'm Patron Of Reading for my local first school. It's brilliant. I get to spend time with wonderful kids and introduce them to brilliant books they might not otherwise encounter. 

My pet publishing hate is people being secretive about the road to publishing. There's always space on the shelves for more great books, and children deserve quality. I'm always happy to share any 'wisdom', hence my website features a regular-ish advice section called Pencil Tips.

I like cake a little bit too much.

Finally - violins at the ready - I'm writing this from a hospital bed. I'm currently getting hardcore drugs and custard free on the NHS, and attempting to write a first draft of a children's novel while I'm bed bound. It's not going terribly well. I blame the high temperature.

I'm really looking forward to contributing to the Den and getting to know you all a little better. 

With warmest wishes (currently about 38°), 

Michelle Robinson

For more on Michelle Robinson, including writing advice, colouring sheets and free audio games to accompany her picture books, visit her website. 

Whose story is it anyway? Collaboration in Life, Launches and Books (or Question: How do you get from a song about roller skates to The Kite Princess? Answer: With help) -by Juliet Clare Bell

The Kite Princess has finally come out, three-and-a-bit years after it began its life.

It’s been a long process and I want to talk about the collaborative nature of writing –not because I’m going to do a Gwyneth Paltrow Oscar speech...

"...and I'd like to thank my granny and my cat and the milk man.... and... who wants me to stop talking and get on with reading the book...?

"...Oh ok, then..."

but because I think it’s important to appreciate how we arrive at things. It’s great to acknowledge all the people involved. It’s also useful to debunk the myth that we do it on our own, as it then frees us up to make the most of everything and everyone surrounding us.

Ok, perhaps that doesn't extend to STEALING your daughter's own picture book (but it is very good...)

First the bit about the book. Then the launch.

People are often surprised to find that writing can involve a lot of people. It's not always the lone writer, scribbling away in isolation. For me, at least, it involves/is influenced by, lots of people (including the sleeping four-year-old with his feet on my legs as I write this in bed in the early morning...).

The characters in the story behind The Kite Princess story…

It started with a name… I got an advert through the door for a local card company. On one side in fancy writing it said Cinnamon Aitch. I (mis)read it immediately as Cinnamon Stitch and had that frustrating moment when I realised that someone else had got there first. Cinnamon Stitch would have been a great character –I instantly loved the name, but I couldn’t possibly steal it from a local company. I read it again. It was Aitch, not Stitch! I could have Cinnamon Stitch for a character! (Thank you Cinnamon Aitch for using that font. And the connection between the two Cinnamons is even sweeter now that I’ve discovered I know Sarah –co-founder of the company- as a mum at my children’s school.)

Cinnamon Aitch with Cinnamon Stitch...


So Cinnamon was born. And she already had an emerging character, but no story –yet.

Enter Addy Farmer, friend and SCBWI member extraordinaire, who’d arranged a series of talks/workshops with people in the writing industry. (Have I ever mentioned SCBWI before? Hmmmn. Note for anyone wanting to write or illustrate: join it.)

(Addy's the dead glam one, third from the right, along with her fellow Notes from the Slushpilers)

I immediately signed up to one with Tessa Strickland, co-founder and Editor-in-Chief of Barefoot Books, in June 2009. Towards the end of the talk, someone asked her if there was anything that she was particularly looking for at the moment. Tessa responded really specifically (thank you, Tessa –and note to writers, it is well worth asking this question):

She would really love a companion book for Portside Pirates (which was sung to a vaguely familiar tune)- an exciting story, to a song, about a princess.

I quickly dismissed the idea (I couldn’t imagine writing a princess story and anyway, whilst we were chatting, I'd just agreed to send her something else). But over the next few days I thought some more. Why not write one with a difference -where the feisty young heroine wanted to free herself from all the constraints of being a princess? At this point, Cinnamon Stitch came to mind –she’d be feisty –and stitching her way out of her situation…? The name fit…. And setting the story to just the right song (it would have to be in the public domain; shouldn’t be too well-known but still recognisable)? What a great challenge...

I loved going through loads of songs to decide which might work best (I’d done something similar for our wedding, where I’d put old poems that I’d always loved to various songs that were now used as hymns). I pored over nursery rhymes, traditional songs, including the ones my Irish father used to sing to me at bedtime as a child. I’d considered and dismissed ‘A Frog He Would a Wooing Go’, along with countless others, but a friend suggested it independently as we chatted with our small children crawling around the floor (thanks, Nicola Smith), so I reconsidered and decided that this was the one, and I got writing, a week after the meeting.

Cinnamon Stitch became a song about roller skates to the tune of A Frog He Would a Wooing Go:

(I love the internet: I put in 'roller skates' and 'frog' and found a picture to copy. Badly. The proper one is (c)Julos)

It was such a jingly jangly frock (‘Hey, ho’ says Roly), It was such a jingly jangly frock,
But if they’d known why, they’d have had such a shock! (With a roly poly gammon and spinach, ‘Hey ho!’ says Anthony Roly.
She joined all her friends at the great Palace Gates/ They all worked together and made... roller skates!
This really was such a magnificent scene, /Until they were spied by the King and the Queen,
Poor Cinnamon knew that they’d make such a fuss, /Instead, they asked “Please could you make some for us?”
They’re all happy now and they’re less stuffy, too,/They went for a skate and their world grew and grew…
(An extract from the original manuscript I sent to Barefoot)

I sent it to Tessa in July and she got back to me in August, saying she liked the story but that two things needed to change (only two?). First, the refrain needed to be made personal to the song. So:
With a roly, poly gammon and spinach,
‘Hey ho!’ Says Anthony Roly.
Became
From her royal bows to the tips of her toes,
Hey ho! She longed for freedom.

Not too hard, but what about ditching the roller skates (which Cinnamon had made sneakily under everyone’s noses, with tools sewn into her dresses) for something more dramatic?

I had fun trying out other possibilities – making a sail for a boat? galloping into the wind? floating off in a home-made hot air balloon…? It was the balloon that made most sense to me... I’d briefly considered a kite but had just as quickly dismissed it on the grounds of health and safety (would they let me have a child floating off on a kite?) and a vague memory of an old Iain Banks novel. But then:

Mark knew a good idea when he’d had one, and soon I’d turned it into my idea (it’s hard to incorporate new ideas until they feel like your own) and began the rewrite.
I rewrote and sent the manuscript to my great critique group and critique partners (who are always part of the collaboration. Fortunately I had American, as well as English, critiquers, who could help me with cross-continental rhyming issues, since it would need to be suitable for both markets –

which ones rhyme for you?

I removed the plait (I had wanted her to snip it off and use it for a kite string), made some more changes and sent it back. Barefoot liked the story/song and in January, 2010, I signed my first ever book contract for what was now called The Kite Princess (and thanks to my newly found agents, Celia and James Catchpole who were also now part of the mix).

My children posting off my first ever book contract.

Yippee! (as Cinnamon would say). I started to learn the song on my guitar –I’m an almost complete beginner so it was taking a while...

(and no one but a dog with a tennis ball for a foot could bear to listen)...
but I wanted to be able to sing it in schools…

Anyone who has read The Kite Princess will know that it is not a song. A few months after signing, it was decided that there’d be more possibility for sequels if it weren’t a song, so it was back to expanding, rewriting and resending to my critique partners.

The bit that most readers of picture books think is the truly collaborative part is probably the least. As Malachy Doyle said in a recent Picture Book Den post, authors and illustrators very rarely work together and everything goes through the editor or art director. So without ever having had any contact with her, Laura-Kate Chapman started work on turning my manuscript into our book.

Early sketches of Cinnamon (c)Laura-Kate Chapman

(c) Laura-Kate Chapman

(c) Laura-Kate Chapman

(c) Laura-Kate Chapman

When a picture book is done well, it ought to feel like it’s been a collaboration between author and illustrator –and I hope ours does. It is, of course, also the work of many people at Barefoot, including Sarah Morris, so huge thanks to everyone involved there. And an enormous ‘YIPPEE!’ to Oscar-nominated, multi-award-winning Imelda Staunton, who narrates the story in the accompanying CD. It’s fantastic to have her read this alongside her recordings of The Gruffalo, her performances in Harry Potter (scary Professor Umbridge) and numerous other films and plays.

Imelda Staunton recording The Kite Princess for the accompanying CD.

But of course the involvement in a book also includes the readers/potential readers. If it gets read lots, borrowed lots from libraries and bought lots from shops, online and real, then everyone who buys and borrows it will be collaborating in Cinnamon’s fate.

Who knows, we might yet get to write/illustrate/read about her new adventures currently playing about in my head but desperate to pour onto the page to be brought to life beautifully by Laura-Kate Chapman.

Is the excitement or feeling of achievement dampened in any way by knowing that lots of other people played a part in it? Does it feel less like my story because other writers had suggestions about it that I took on board? Do I feel like a fraud because my husband was the one who came up with the idea of it being a kite –which is of course so central to the story now? Absolutely NOT. As a writer, you get ideas from everywhere and you’re the one who sifts and considers and decides what goes in and stays out. And crucially, you’re the one who writes it. I love life and that we are inherently social creatures and that we affect and are affected by other people, all the time, in millions of ways. And having other people influence -in whatever way- how I tell a story (and vice versa when I critique other writers’ stories), just means that when something works out and gets published, there’s an even bigger cause for celebration. And more people to celebrate with.

(c) Laura-Kate Chapman.

So onto the celebrations!

Huge thank yous to the people involved: the fantastic staff from Waterstone’s in Birmingham, particularly Chris, the deputy manager, provided the venue, set everything up, stayed way beyond closing time to sell more books, were extremely helpful and lovely and cleared everything up at the end. Crucially, for me and for my SCBWI critique group, they also provide us with space every six weeks for our critique group to meet -so they’ve played a significant role in my first two picture books, both of which were critiqued in the very space where the launch was held!

Half of my body appears to have disappeared... (half of) the man who made it happen. Chris, deputy manager, hidden in the background.

Lauren Guthrie of Guthrie and Ghani, a local and online haberdasher’s in South Birmingham, made a wonderful cloth kite with the children.

This will be flying high in the children’s department next week alongside copies of the book, thanks to Ben (head of the children’s section).

Laura-Kate Chapman, the book’s illustrator, whom I’d never met until the launch itself, drew beautiful pictures with the children of people, kites, owls, monkeys and all sorts of other weird and wonderful things.

‘She looks so fancy!’ said one of my children, in awe, after she'd met Laura-Kate. They are not used to seeing their mother looking young, glamorous or ‘fancy’.

And not forgetting a certain small, wonderful six-year-old who took the bold step of reading the book in front of everyone. And who better to read the book than my very own Cinnamon Stitch who loves to get dirty...

and climb... (Warning: don't try this at home... Unless you're a spider)

(Now I know why my children insisted on my wearing ‘the dress that you can hide under’ as opposed to the one that I'd actually bought for the launch...)

Sadly the video of Esther reading the book didn't come out -it was a fantastic reading- but I'll post a new video of her reading it when we've made it.


And of course, a launch wouldn’t be anything without the amazing people who come to it. Everyone who turned up brought something special, unique to the event, and everyone gave up doing something else in order to be there.

It was a wonderful night and one that I’ll always remember. And many hands made light work…

Thank you -for reading and to everyone who was involved in the book and the launch, including those who stepped up and took photos when the two photographers weren't able to come (Candy Gourlay, Donna Vann, Margaret Bell, Joolz Richards, Mike Safo). Huge thanks to Rebecca Colby -my long time critique buddy, and to my Birmingham critique group. I'm going to stop before I start blubbing... I love you all....

Click on the links for tips on how (not) to write a rhyming picture book; editing your manuscript and making the most of feedback. I'm also doing a picture book writing workshop as part of Birmingham Book Festival on Saturday 13th October. www.julietclarebell.com

Do Picture Book Writers need Good Memories? by Malachy Doyle

At the age of 56 or 57 or whatever the heck I am these days, I might not remember where I put that damn cheque book, or car keys, or letter from the tax man. But the first ten years of my life? I remember every square foot of the house I grew up in. I remember how it felt, how it smelt, how it sounded. I remember those days with an incredible vividness, and it’s those memories, those emotions, those days of joy and discovery, that every picture book I ever write draws upon.

I’m lucky. The house I grew up in

is still there. (That's me on the bottom right by the way, aged about 6, by the garden gate.) It’s called Kiltermon, a big old house in the quiet little seaside town of Whitehead, at the mouth of Belfast Lough, where I still go regularly. The house isn’t in the family any more, but early in my writing career I put together a photographic collage of my childhood, on the wall above my desk, to help me connect with my 3/4/5/6 year old self.

After a visit in 1995, the year after I’d taken up this writing lark, I found myself writing a poem that drew on my earliest memory – sitting on my mother’s knee, after my father had left for work, and all six of my older brothers and sisters had headed off to school. Ah, the peace and quiet! Ah, the chance to have my lovely Mammy to myself at last!

It's quiet in the morning.

There's no one else around.

I lie in bed and listen...

Not a single sound.

It's cold out on the landing,

peeping round the doors.

My Mummy's smiling back at me.

My Daddy only snores.

I clamber up his tummy

and I wiggle down the bed.

We're a cosy snuggle sandwich.

I'm the jam and they're the bread...

I sent it to Walker Books, who said they liked it, ‘but it’s a second book’. I sent it to Transworld, who liked the language, the tone and the verse, but found ‘the storyline underdeveloped’. I rewrote it with a lost teddy, but they still weren’t convinced.

I sent it to the agent Celia Catchpole, who said she loved it and wanted to represent me! Result! It went off to a load more publishers then, but without success. (Celia did manage to sell twelve other stories of mine in the next ten months, though, so I was up and running, for sure.)

In late 1996, I went on a week-long Writing for Children course at Ty Newydd. The tutors were Valerie Bloom and Kevin Crossley-Holland. I showed Valerie Quiet in the Morning and she really liked it and suggested a number of amendments, which I gratefully incorporated.

By the following spring, though, Celia was telling me that the market for rhyming picture books wasn’t great, and that we seemed to have come to the end of the line with this particular idea.

In 1999, however, Simon and Schuster got hold of it. They came ever so close to giving me a contract, but again, it didn’t work out.

And so the story disappeared, resurfacing every few years for some spit and polish, but never being seriously considered for another push.

Then, in 2010, I pulled it out, gave it a complete overhaul, and wrote to my agent.

Dear Celia, another one that I think it's a real shame we never managed to sell is Quiet in the Morning… I know this one's had its run over the years, but we've had a fair bit of success, you and I, selling older ones...

The ending at this point was:

It’s cosy in the armchair,

now my teddy’s back again.

The morning rush is over.

My favourite time is when…

It’s quiet in the morning –

with no one else around.

Me and Mummy in the kitchen.

Not another sound.

Celia showed it to an editor from Dial US, who ‘loved the idea of a snuggle sandwich’ and thought it would make a great title. They felt the narrative voice ‘didn’t quite ring true,’ wanted more tension, and wanted the whole thing to come full circle at the end, ‘perhaps with Ted in a snuggle sandwich between baby and mum.’

Never one to ignore good advice, that’s what I did, changing it from first to third person and adding a new punch line in the American editor’s honour. So now the ending was:

It’s quiet in the morning,

now Teddy’s back again.

The morning rush is over.

Annie's favourite time is when...

There’s only her and Momma.

No more fuss and clutter.

Now THEY’RE the snuggle sandwich,

And TED's the peanut butter!

Much better, though I say it myself!

Dial didn’t take it, but Celia's like me - she doesn't give up easily. She made some text suggestions herself - she’s a brilliant editor – and agreed to give it one more go.

Me: It'd be absolutely delightful to sell this at last. I wrote it in 1995!

Celia: And everyone saw it in 1996-7! I still have my offer card with the list. However, I do think this version is much stronger and lots of new editors have arrived since then so I will take it with me to meetings here and do my best to sell it.

Penguin UK nearly took it. ‘A Snuggle Sandwich! That’s what I do with my son!’ said the editor, but couldn’t get it past her boss.

Then, two months later, a student I’d tutored on an Arvon course - I’d gone from poacher to gamekeeper by now - sold a story (one I'd helped her with) to Andersen Press, who'd published my first picture book, The Great Castle of Marshmangle, and later Hungry! Hungry! Hungry! I've a real soft spot for Andersen and for Klaus Flugge, their charismatic top dog - they only publish books they truly believe in; they're unusually speedy in terms of making decisions, drawing up contracts and, all importantly, paying; they're very good at selling foreign rights; they keep books in print for as long as they possibly can...

So, though I hadn't worked with them for some time, I wrote:

Dear Klaus, I hope you're keeping well. Anthea Simmons sent me a copy of her lovely debut Share!, with its fulsome dedication to me. It's a delightful book and I hope it does really well for both you and her. It made me think about you for a picture book idea of mine called Snuggle Sandwich, which I attach… It would be lovely to work with you again.

I sent it, along with a new story, not mentioning of course that they’d already turned down Snuggle Sandwich fourteen years before!

Klaus got back the next day: Dear Malachy, Thanks for sending us your two stories. I love the first and hope we can do something with it (perhaps making baby a bit older??) Kind regards, Klaus

He wanted The Snuggle Sandwich! RESULT! I said yes yes yes, and two days later got the delightful one-liner:

OK, Malachy, let's do another book together (if we can afford you!) K.

Some more very helpful text suggestions from their editor, Rona Selby, and then they asked if I’d any illustrators in mind. I suggested Gwen Millward, as I’d loved The Bog Baby, which she’d done with one of their authors, Jeanne Willis. Gwen said she’d be delighted to take it on, and hasn’t she done a wonderful job!

And so, in a couple of weeks time, The Snuggle Sandwich will be published. It’s been a long long road, with input from many many people, but hopefully it still feels as fresh as a first draft, only better. And as true as a three-year-old Malachy.

A three-year-old Malachy with a long long memory.