The gift that keeps on giving: how to keep a picture book retreat going at home and in your head when it’s over… by Juliet Clare Bell

 Last month, I went on a picture book retreat 

        

Spot the five Picture Book Denners! -Pippa Goodhart (back left) and Garry Parsons (second from right, second row) -who led the sessions; Clare Helen Welsh (third from left, second row), who co-organised it; Natascha Biebow, joint Regional Advisor of SBCWI British Isles (second left, third row) and me (with red hair behind Natashca's shoulder) (c) Tito Berredo.

After a long pandemic break (the previous one had been in 2019), I was keen to try and stretch the benefit as long as possible beyond the actual retreat. Whilst the place looks lovely

                         

                                                   (c) Clare Helen Welsh

     

                                                               

                                                                                      (c) Clare Helen Welsh

as someone who doesn’t picture things, I don’t get to close my eyes and relive the lovely gardens or misshapen old rooms like some people (I’ll take their word for it) do. My three big takeaways from the weekend (other people will have come away with other ones, I know) which I was keen to smuggle home so I could incorporate the retreat life into my own were:

 

                                                             PLAY

                                               TUNING INTO YOU

                                               ACCOUNTABILITY

 

PLAY -I was already trying to get into the play mindset before I left for the retreat and even packed my Michael Rosen Play book to get me in the mood:

 

                                                                                      (c) Michael Rosen

And there was plenty of it there. It was particularly relevant in the Picture Book Den’s very own Pippa Goodhart’s sessions on different forms of picture book. We discussed concept books, interesting use of flaps, holes, books where the pictures are doing something quite different from the text (my favourite kind)… And we spent time playing around with ideas of our own.

I’ve always loved picture books that do things a bit differently, especially wordless books and those with few words. And I feel like I’ve been given permission (or given myself permission) to go back to a form I’ve always loved reading and writing. Pippa’s examples of different books that played with form, or where pictures play a particularly crucial role -and crucially, which publishers might be interested in them- really sparked ideas… including going back to old manuscripts of mine that I’d abandoned because they were a hard sell…

                               Books bought for research post retreat for potential new projects!

            Books from home that fit with the themes/concept/style I got excited about at the retreat

                                                           

                                              And more.... Who doesn't love a retreat that gets 

                                              you excited about your own bookshelves again?

  

and Pippa's and Nick Sharratt's You Choose, one of my all-time favourites. I've lost two copies so far (the first, my children loved so much that one of them cut it up to use the individual pictures) and the second, I've used in schools so much with reluctant readers that I've mislaid it and need to get a third copy... I would encourage everyone who knows children between the ages of one and seven (though my children used it way beyond seven) to have a copy of this book...

TUNING INTO YOU

I’m not great with yoga. I find it really hard to do the breathing at the same time as moving, and I find following any kinds of instructions pretty difficult so it’s usually a frustrating experience for me. But we had our resident yoga instructor/fellow author/illustrator, Gary Fabbri, there and for those of us who wanted to (and I did want to give it a go) we started our days with yoga before breakfast. 

                                                                                      (c) Imogen Foxwell

Whilst I struggled doing the actual movements and breathing the first day, I loved that we were doing something outside and communal, but quiet, to start our day. The second day, Gary went for a simpler session, particularly useful for writers and illustrators who sit for long periods of time. And I loved it! In the evening, we did a yoga meditation (yoga nidra) where we set an intention, a question we’d like to ask ourselves relating to our writing/creating or our lives. Whilst I couldn’t do the imagery side of the meditation, I entered into the spirit of it, got hugely relaxed with the gongs, and allowed my unconscious mind to do what it wanted. The outcome? A semi-interesting answer to my own question to myself (about my current work in progress) but something else, too. It brought to mind a manuscript I’d written paying homage to another book many years ago but that couldn’t be published at the time (for copyright reasons), so I’d changed it and changed it until it was hardly recognisable. But now, seven years later, I suddenly remembered that I’m free to go back to my original one! And I’d completely forgotten its original form until that session!

 Keen to build on the ‘trusting your own mind and body’ and allowing your mind some time and space to flourish, and bearing in mind that I had really enjoyed the early morning yoga, I decided to start doing something I’d not done for years when I got home: waking up at six o’clock to write. It’s absolutely the best time of the day for me to write (but I’d somehow managed to ignore that) and I enjoy it way more than I enjoy writing at other times of the day (I ignored that, too). It turns out that my inner critic prefers a lie-in and just doesn’t show up at that time of day. I don’t get out of bed, I’m often not 100 percent awake, I sometimes don’t even put on my glasses so it’s not even in focus, and I’m just happy to be creative and let it flow.

The final take home was about ACCOUNTABILITY. I already have an accountability partner with whom I meet once a week on skype -and this year she was at the retreat, too. When it came to writing our postcards to ourselves for six months’ time at the end (we all write down on a self-addressed postcard what we hope we’ll have done on the writing/illustrating front in six months’ time and then the organisers -which included Picture Book Den’s Clare Helen Welsh!- collect them in and send them to us in six months),  we addressed them to each other rather than ourselves so that the other person will hold us accountable to what we’ve said we’ll do by that time.  But the accountability didn’t stop there. On the way to the station, I was chatting with a few retreatees and we were talking about experimenting, playing and being less precious about our work and how we should just get more written, quickly. And we decided that we’d each commit to writing (and in some cases, illustrating) two really rough stories per month with a monthly deadline and online meeting the next day. They would have to be new stories each month (no editing and resubmitting the same one) and we wouldn’t critique them but we’d all have a quick read before we met and say one nice thing about them -but no critiquing). The idea is that if we get less precious about our writing/illustrating and our ideas then we’ll free ourselves up and write/sketch quicker and that at least some of our new ideas will be ok. We’re not thinking we’re going to create 24 good stories in a year -but there might well be some good ones in there that may never have happened were it not for this new process.

 And keen to merge this new (or re-remembered) trust with play, I’ve been committing my morning writing slot to new story ideas whenever I have them so that I am being playful every day first thing in the morning. If I actively want to work on my current (serious) work in progress at 6am, then that’s fine but priority goes to being playful with new ideas. What it means is that I’m no longer feeling like I have to finish X before I can even think about any other projects, which takes away some of the positivity about the current work in progress. Now I’ve created what feels like magic free time (six till seven), I can do whatever creative projects I feel like in that time and I’m feeling more enthusiastic about all my projects because I’m feeling creatively fulfilled by playing every morning!

I even did some (relatively) early morning outside writing on holiday in Orkney just recently, including sitting on my mum’s grave

                                   

overlooking Scapa beach

 and at the beach

          where I came up with an idea which will be one of my 'two a month' rough stories I'll try out

                                                                            at Scapa

                                                        at Weyland Bay at the end of my mum and dad's old road

After getting a little nervous last week that I was losing my taste for the early mornings before discovering I actually had covid and my body just needed a lot of rest, I’m excited to start back again in a couple of days’ time. Although I’m better with quiet than I was before the retreat (which means I’m having more interesting thoughts and ideas, too), I still play birdsong as I write, but that all feeds back into recreating the retreat early morning soundscape anyway.   

It's a retreat I'll remember for a long time (huge thanks to organiser Paul Morton, who spent months preparing. It was great to meet fellow 'Denner, Garry Parsons at last, and it was great to be in the company of loads of lovely and interesting creative people). I know everyone will have come away with different 'take homes' but here's to listening to ourselves, being accountable and having fun!

If you have any tips or stories about being more creative, getting more done or trusting yourself in your creative practice, please do share them below in the comments section. Thank you!

Clare is a children’s author of more than 35 books and is now on a mission to have a playful year of writing…

www.julietclarebell.com

Illustration Notes? by Natascha Biebow

At the SCBWI picture book retreat this summer, we had a debate about illustration notes. 

Some quite well-established authors and illustrators argued that we should be allowed to include these to communicate clearly to the editor how the book should work. How else would we explain everything?!

We put the question to one of the editors who came to speak. "Definitely not!" she said.

Hmm... So illustration notes are a big no, no...

Oh dear, we all wailed. As authors who don’t draw, this is so hard! However will we communicate everything we’re imagining in our heads?  How will we be sure the editor “gets” our stories?

OK, deep breath.  Remember two things:  

1. Picture book editors know how to imagine the pictures. It's their job.

When you add illustrator notes, you are interrupting the flow of the words as the editor is reading your story. It is distracting and highly annoying.

Editors are skilled at reading picture book texts and imagining the pictures. They instinctively know how to match a really good story with just the right illustrator to add an extra level of detail, humour and excitement.

2. The pictures are the illustrator’s job. 

They don’t want to be told how to do their job . . .

When you add detailed illustrator notes, it is as if you are trying to micro-manage the illustrator. Picture book illustrators are skilled at imagining stories and scenes when they read a story. They don’t want to be told how it should look. Chances are, they will add layers to your story that you never even imagined. This is why picture books are so exciting to work on – they evolve.

Remember, too, that once a book is commissioned, editors will offer authors the opportunity to share their vision and comment on the roughs and artwork.

But, how, oh how, will you be able to get across your story clearly without illustration notes?

First, take them ALL out.  

Eek, I know, it's hard. Now, pretend you are all cosy on the story carpet, ready to hear a story read aloud to you. Read the story out loud. It should be attention-grabbing!

You should be able to hear it flow without the need for any explanation. The story has to be strong enough to stand alone. If it doesn’t make sense, you’ll need to add more context, more specific scenes, more vivid dialogue.

But what about the word count, I hear you wail! 

Yes, this is a challenge. You will need to add more words to get it all in, and then cut, cut, cut, so that each word works extra hard. If you polish your ‘show, don’t tell’ skills, and create vivid scenes so we can be there in the moment, you don’t need too many words.

Make up a small dummy book and read it aloud, looking at how the page turns work. This is a great way to check the pacing of your story, but also to see where you can cut unnecessary explanations and words.

 

So can I never include illustration notes? Are there any exceptions to this rule?

One technique you can try is to include any really important notes concerning the story in the cover letter to the editor. This is where, for instance, you can explain that your main character is a particular animal or that at the end of the story, there is an unexpected visual twist.

Visual irony: if your story relies on visual irony, for example, with the text saying one thing, and the illustrations showing the reality, you can include a very brief illustration note.

Page turn surprise: sometimes, surprises are revealed when a page is turned, in which case a short, bracketed note will be enough. 

Visual twist or wordless page: if your story relies on a visual joke or there is a wordless page, you can include a brief note to this effect.

Novelty books: in the case of novelty books, you can consider mocking up your idea simply in order to convey how the narrative works. 

One author who came from a marketing background, used to send me stick figure drawings as part of his manuscript – one for his idea of the cover and one for the visual twist. It was simple and effective, and it didn’t interfere with reading and enjoying the story. But, generally speaking, if your story is strong enough, you shouldn't need to send any stick figures, gimmicks or chocolates. Your voice should speak for itself!

Do you have any illuminating or frustrating experiences with illustration notes that you'd like to share?

 

Natascha Biebow

Author, Editor and Mentor

Blue Elephant Storyshaping is an editing, coaching and mentoring service aimed at empowering writers and illustrators to fine-tune their work pre-submission.  Check out my NEW small group coaching courses!

Natascha is also the author of Elephants Never Forget and Is This My Nose?, editor of numerous award-winning children’s books, and Regional Advisor (Chair) of SCBWI British Isles.  www.blueelephantstoryshaping.com