​By Annie Cronin Romano

    “Where’s Papa going with that ax?” said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.  
    “Out to the hoghouse,” replied Mrs. Arable. “Some pigs were born last night.” 
    “I don’t see why he needs an ax,” continued Fern, who was only eight.

As you probably know, the above excerpt is the opening of E.B. White’s Charlotte’s Web, a classic in children’s literature. When I was a child, it was one of my favorite books. When I read the first page and realized those cute little piglets could be in danger, I kept reading. Fern’s concern about a threat to the piglets is established right away, and I had to find out if and how Fern could stop this horror from occurring. I was hooked. The same goes for picture books I love. I’m compelled to read past the first page in picture books whose openings create a strong curiosity about a situation:

    On a cold afternoon, in a cold little town,
    where everywhere you looked was either the white of snow 
    or the black of soot from chimneys,
    Annabelle found a box filled with yard of every color.

    In these first lines of Mac Barnett’s Extra Yarn (illustrated by Jon Klassen), I was pulled in by my wonder of how this colorful yarn was going to affect the plain little town. 

Although both these examples of opening lines grabbed me quickly, others may need to read further to know a book is a keeper. In novels, authors have some time to lure the reader in. A writer of longer works can take a few paragraphs to set the tone, or even a few pages to a chapter or so to bait the reader into the character’s voice or world. But in picture books, you have the first page. You’ve got to hook ‘em fast and come out swinging. It’s vital to the life of your story. Be it picture books or novels, if the author doesn’t capture the reader early on, the chance of losing the reader increases. A lot.

But what elements make a strong hook? What is it that pulls the reader in? To help you with examining your openings, I am going to give you an assignment. Don’t worry. There’s no exam at the end. I’ll use the honor system! 

• Focusing on the category in which you write, list some of your favorite books. 
• Next, list some books you never finished…ones that lost you in the first chapter or two. Or for picture books, choose ones that fell flat for you on the first page. 
• Head to the library or bookstore (you probably own your favorites) and read the opening page or paragraphs. 
• Note what grabbed you in your favorites. Study what seized your attention. Was it the voice? The immediate world building? Strong senses the opening elicited in you? A unique premise? A creation of curiosity?
• What was lacking in those books you never finished? Analyze where and why the openings of those unfinished books lost your interest. 
• Finally, examine the opening of your work in progress. Does it contain elements that will compel the reader to turn the page? Or does it fall short of the mark?

This exercise can help clarify what makes a strong hook and what doesn’t.  Study the first pages of other works to help make your book’s opening the strongest and sharpest hook it can be. Then reel ‘em in!

~Annie

​~ by Amanda Smith

Last week we focused on using basic plotting techniques to help organize scenes that were random and unconnected, like a hand full of beads. If you missed last week's post, you can find it here. What if you're done drafting, though? Does that mean you have no more use for plotting techniques? 

Writers often use note cards to block out scenes. For me the note card technique worked well after I finished my second draft. I combined the information from a mapping workshop, taught by Katie L. Caroll (Elixer Bound) and a workshop on non-sequential writing by Lynda Mullaly Hunt. (One for the Murphys, Fish in a Tree) to come up with a note card that served my purpose for revision. 

• Use one card per scene. Give a scene heading and a temporary number.
• If you have multiple narrators, write down the POV.
• Note the setting of the scene.
• Jot down the main moment/ event/ quote from that scene.
• What is the purpose of this scene. Does it develop plot or character? 
• What kind of scene is it? Action, back story, mood, flashback, character development, inciting incident, tension building, climatic scenes? What is the emotional intensity of this scene?
• Which characters are present in the scene? I color code my characters so it is easy to track them.
• The number at the top is added much later once you are happy with the final order of your scenes.

 Revision time is also a good stage to implement character interviews, another plotting technique. There are multiple character interviews online that you can tweak to meet your needs. After filling out interview questions, add descriptors and specifics to enhance characters, and check for character consistency. I found it very enlightening to also interview all secondary characters. Going back and adding the smallest of details can enrich secondary characters and make them feel like real people.
​Many authors have a treasure trove of plot development strategies on their websites. Don’t feel overwhelmed by them. Take these plotting devices and adapt them to work for you and your process. And it is a process! Use some before you start, some during drafting, and some during revisions until all your scenes are perfectly placed like beads on a string.

~by Amanda Smith
​​The first time I saw plot planning templates I was simultaneously impressed and petrified. These templates assumed that the writer already knew a whole lot. All I had when I started my novel were a handful of characters, an idea for conflict, and only a fleeting emotion I felt after waking up from an angsty dream. We discover the story, the characters, the PLOT as we go. While some writers are brilliantly organised, writing a novel from beginning to end, there are just as many who write non-sequentially. Does that mean these fabulous plotting techniques are not for us scatterbrains? Not at all. These templates and techniques can be used throughout the first couple of drafts. So how do you plot when you write at the whim of the character voices in your head?

The following strategies helped me string numerous non-chronological scenes, like beads on a necklace, into a viable story line. 

• When I first started, I wrote those parts of the story that were clear to me. These scenes where random and I had no idea what would link them, or even how I would get from one to the other. When I had a collection of scenes, I wrote a sentence summary of each scene on a sticky note. I placed these sticky notes on a time line (the internal structure of the story was a school year, so I used months for the time line), jotting down scenes that still needed to be written to fill in the holes. Since I had two first person narrators, I used different color sticky notes for each narrator’s scenes and a third color for scenes where they were both present.
• Once I had written some of the missing scenes, the story had made some twists and turns, the characters had grown, and a clear arc had emerged. I drew a story arc for each narrator’s story as well as the subplot, and added scenes, written and yet-to-be-written, onto the arc. 

by Annie Cronin Romano

​So often we start a project with an idea, a glowing nugget of inspiration, and we decide immediately the kind of book it will be. It's going to be a picture book. Yes, definitely a picture book…about flying sandwiches. Excellent! Off we go! 

We brainstorm, diagram, scribble, and plot. We develop our characters, our setting, and our pacing. We draft a beautifully crafted 550 word picture book about sandwiches that fly and submit it to our critique group. 

And they tell us it should be a middle grade novel. About a food fight.

*Head-desk*

Why should we turn our picture book draft into a novel? Do we have to? Our critique group is not the boss of us, after all! True. True. But consider the reasons behind the suggestion. Is it because the setting or topic would appeal more to the older age group? Maybe the characters would present more strongly with an older voice? What about the plot? Perhaps it is one that is better suited (or even needed) in the older market. Or maybe your critique partners thought there was more to explore than you could do justice to in a shorter format. What if you played around with it, not as a middle grade, but as a chapter book? What if…

As participants in critique groups, we often expect the critiques to focus on the story itself. Would our character really say this? Are we showing or telling? Watch the pacing. This is working. That is not. What we don’t usually expect is for critique partners to suggest changing the target audience. But sometimes it's an insightful idea. A middle grade story may work better as a picture book or a young adult novel. A young adult draft may be better suited as a new adult story. What the writer has in mind for a story often can benefit from considering all possible audiences. The first instinct may still be the best. But give it due consideration.

Always ask, "What if…"

So the next time you sit down to work on a story, be it a fiction picture book or young adult science fiction thriller, look at your idea from all angles. It could be that your flying sandwich would make an excellent food fight.

~Annie 

by Annie Cronin Romano
​
For writers, receiving constructive feedback is one of the key factors to editing and revising our work. We join critique groups, participate in online manuscript swaps, and sign up for professional editing services. Sometimes even editors and agents we've submitted to will provide feedback. They might indicate what didn't work for them or offer suggestions. All this feedback is fodder for the revision file. We cull through it, often using trial and error, to figure out which suggestions improve our manuscripts and which don't.

But once in a while, we get harsh feedback, an unfavorable critique, which strikes a nerve. A deep nerve. And it stings. Those manuscripts are our babies and we are protective of them. A negative analysis can make us question our story or even our writing talent as a whole. This is usually because the critique was not helpful and constructive. So what do you do when you receive feedback that's not presented in a beneficial manner? How can you turn that disappointment at a poorly presented critique into a positive step on your writing journey? 

A few months back, I received a detailed, yet rather harsh, rejection following a submission. It was clear the agent had read the full manuscript, which was excellent. But the criticism, helpful as I’m sure it was intended to be, was delivered in a off-putting way. It was a list of I didn’t like a, b, and c. By the end of the letter, my novel was bloodied and beaten. At least to me. I couldn’t be objective, and my writer spirit was crushed.

Enter one of my amazing writing group ladies, Kelly. She read the letter, sympathized with me, and then, in a magical, extraordinary way, helped me turn the criticisms into constructive advice. She turned every “I didn’t like…” into “Try doing ‘x’.” She translated each negative into a positive, helpful piece of advice. In doing so, Kelly enabled me to use the rejection as a revision tool rather than a reason to give up on my story. 

Sometimes you will get critiques, or even unexpected submission feedback, that is poorly delivered. Rather than being useful, it may come across as rough and disparaging. Get out your magic wand, or favorite pen, and invert the negatives into positives. Turn the "I don't likes" into "It might work better if..." Hopefully you're blessed with those who can provide you with constructive feedback that is beneficial to both your manuscript and your growth as a writer. But if you get one of those "tear apart" reviews, take a deep breath and step away for a bit. Then take a step forward and turn those negatives into positives, and even the "bad" feedback will help you make your writing its absolute best. 

~Annie  

By Kelly Carey

While I am never happy when an editor asks me to rewrite a story, I have learned that if I can quell my bad attitude for a smidgen of time, the end result will be a better manuscript.

A few years ago, an editor asked me to flip a Christmas themed story centered on gift giving to fit with a February issue of the magazine. The story was titled “The Gingerbread Shop”.  I thought she was insane. Then I decided she was mean. Then I was just really mad. How do you take what is clearly a December Christmas story and rework it to fit in a February issue?

The request to revise always leaves me feeling defeated. By the time I submit a manuscript, I have already revised a bajillion times, had it critiqued, rewritten it again and fallen madly in love with my brilliant work.  I send it off to the editor or agent like a perfect present. Asking me to rewrite it is like someone returning a gift I bought them. Only worse, they are asking me to return it and get them something else - something better.  How rude!

Grumble, grumble, curse and spit.

I came dangerously close to refusing to rewrite my gingerbread story. Instead, I took a few days to stomp around my house, complained to my writing buddies, derided the absurdity of the editor’s request,  BUT I sent my editor  an email reply that read, “Of course, I’d be happy to revise my story.”

After venting and still unconvinced that any revision could improve on my perfect pearl, I reluctantly mustered the will to sit down and give the rewrite a try. The result was a better story, a more unique manuscript and a piece I was more proud to present. The revised story sold as “Dolphin Queen Valentine” and it never would have happened without the request to rewrite.

Just last month, I was asked to revise a manuscript and I have my routine down. I curse, stomp around my house with a scowling face that leaves with me with a self- inflicted unibrow, and I send the editor an email that says, “Of course, I’d be happy to rewrite”.  

When I finish the revision,my unibrow disappears in happy haze of contentment and the recognition that the request to rewrite was the perfect present.