First Snow

you write in my language, aidan.
i alway look for you when i submit.
carlotta

Thank you Carlotta - I value your opinion. I had read your thread on writing a childrens' book a while back, and have a book/poem I wrote quite a few years ago when my kids were small and I was wondering if I posted it here if you would look at it and give me some insight into whether or not you think what I have done might be suitable or not? I submitted it once, and the publisher I sent it to was complementary about the writing and idea, but asked me to resubmit it with a sample illustration. I cannot draw to save my life, especially not to the level I would need to be able to to illustrate a book, and at that point didn't know anyone who did or even how to find anyone who did.
I have sent it to a friend of mine who is a very talented artist, and I'm waiting to hear back from her if she has the interest or time to take this on as a project - she does portraits professionally and usually stays pretty busy with that work.
Anyway - I'll post it here if you think you could give me some input. Don't feel pressured either way, though, and thanks once again for your kind words- Aidan

aidan-

I would love to read your story/poem for children.
I'll give whatever advice, or suggestions I can.
I do know that the best publishers will never ask you, the writer, to supply the art, or artist. They already have access to the best artists in the world.
Many illustrators (myself included) also write. That is a different situation.

It is good for a serious children's book writer to know how to present his story, however. I might have a few suggestions along that line.

I look for your submission!

This is beautiful. I like the simple, descriptive langauge. It is realistic, and yet I feel as though I am being brought right into the speaker's bedroom and seeing this. This is a feeling I experience every year. I love the first snow, and then I remember (because I, too, live in Maine) that the first snow, as beautiful and promising as it is, is a little reminder of how much of a long haul I am in for.

Is this about your own experiences? If so, whereabouts in Maine do you live?

Thank you daniellejean. Yes, it is about my own experience, in fact I was just thinking today that I wish I could write more about universal experiences, but I always seem drawn to write about places and people I've known and loved.

Maine is definitely one of those. I lived in Pittsfield, this tiny little town half-way between Augusta and Bangor. It was kind of ironic - I was not excited about moving there- I was living in NC and had kind of decided that would be my adopted home- I'd gone to college there, had a lot of friends, liked the climate and the mountains, etc.- so I had a pretty bad attitude about moving to Maine. I thought it would be too cold, etc. It was supposed to be a two year stint for a job - but I fell in love with it and stayed for eleven years. I moved back to NC for a job, but missed Maine so much that I was in the process of trying to move back when I got the opportunity to live abroad for a couple of years. That's where I'm at right now.

Where do you live in Maine? Are you originally from there? I really came to love native Mainers - so down to earth, lot's of common sense, and beneath that reserved and toughened exterior, very generous and loving hearts. At least that was my experience. I know I'll move back some day- if I can get my nerve back up to withstand those long and cold dark winters.. for me, that was the only downside.

But yeah, that was my bedroom in our old farmhouse in Maine. The wallpaper was over fifty years old and utterly beautiful and unique I thought. My boyfriend wanted to strip it - but I couldn't bear to- I hope it's still there, casting a rosy glow on whoever sleeps there now.

Well I am from Massachusetts originally. But I am a student at the University of Maine at Farmington, and I have family in Farmington. Its probably two hours south of Bangor, 30 miles outside of Waterville and Augusta. I love New England in general. But Maine has a special flavor to it that is so different than southern NE (Mass, Conn, RI). I think that if the job market looks good in a couple of years, maybe I'll settle here. But then, Im planning to go to grad school too (looking at NYU and some schools in Quebec because I am going to study french). So, I don't know if my path will keep me grounded here. But its always going to hold a special place in my heart.

I know Farmington well. My husband used to do some per diem work at the hospital there and we used to pass through on the way up to Sugarloaf. Do you ski? If you don't do some kind of winter sport up there the winters can be unbearably long, so I ended up ice skating and learning how to downhill and cross country ski. That's really the only way I could survive the winter without getting cabin fever. And I agree with you about Maine's special flavor. It's not like any other place I've lived in the US - and it appeals to me too. It takes a certain resilience to be a year rounder up there, so it attracts a certain type of person - and that's what gives it its distinctive flavor I think.

Quebec City is one of my very favorite cities. It's not too far from Montreal - and really a fun, cosmopolitan little city. If you get the chance to visit before you move on to other things you should grab it. I think it's only about three hours or so from Farmington if I remember correctly. Anyway - nice talking to you - your plans sound exciting - keep in touch and let me know how it all works out.

Carlotta - this is the poem/story I was telling you about. I had written it for my daughter about a walk that we took pretty much daily when we lived in Maine. I thought it lent itself really well to illustrations and had ideas for each picture, but not the ability to draw them. I can't remember now which publisher I submitted it too, but I think it was a small one in Boston. Anyway, they suggested resubmitting it with an illustration to give an idea of my conception of it as a childrens' book, and that's where I let it lie for seven years or so now.
I read what you said about the 28 page standard, and I tried to break the stanzas up accordingly.
I've also read about appealing to a certain audience and having something that makes a project unique, and as my children are interracial (African-American/Caucasian) I thought if the two characters reflected that it might make it more interesting or create a niche of some sort.
Anyway, I appreciate you looking at it and any input you might have to give me. Thanks in advance - Aidan

One Bright and Blue Late Summer's Day

One bright and blue late summer's day (1)
we ventured on a walk.
The corn was hanging heavy,
ripe and golden on its stalk.
_____________________________________________________________

The azure sky above me, (1)
my brother's hand in mine,
we skipped with expectation
to see what we might find.
_____________________________________________________________

Our path led to the river, (2)
rocks glinted in the sun.
The laughing water called our names,
still playful from its run.
_____________________________________________________________

We ran along the river bank, (2)
tall grasses brushed our knees.
The sun played hide and seek with us,
it ducked behind the trees.
____________________________________________________________

Our game had led from sun to shade- (3)
the forest dense before us.
Each shy leaf danced in unison,
a green and silent chorus.
_____________________________________________________________

I looked back to the water, (3)
it was deeper here, and still.
Quiet peaceful murmuring had
replaced its noisy rill.
_____________________________________________________________

This placid pool was cool and calm, (4)
its surface smooth as glass.
A duck and three small ducklings swam,
We watched them paddle past.
_____________________________________________________________

My brother found a skipping stone, (4)
flat and smooth and cool.
It walked on water, one, two, three-
then sank into the pool.
_____________________________________________________________

Laughing, we continued, but (5)
Our stomachs, they did quiver,
as we crossed the swaying, creaking bridge
that spanned the sunlit river.
_____________________________________________________________

We stepped onto the path again, (6)
soft with fallen needles
of pine and fir and cedar trees-
their scent rose up to greet us.
_____________________________________________________________

Emerald foliage sheltered us, (6)
each tree an ancient tower.
We walked with hushed and prayerful step
beneath our leafy bower.
_____________________________________________________________

Bird song broke the silence (7)
though we did not see a one.
High among the trees they sang
psalms to rain and sun.
_____________________________________________________________

The undergrowth was dappled (7)
with splintered beams of light.
It played upon the fronds of ferns and
fiddleheads curled tight.
_____________________________________________________________

We saw a small and sheltered pond, (8)
its waters dark and deep.
We peered into the amber depths.
What secrets did it keep?
_____________________________________________________________

Toads hopped along its borders, (9)
their bumpy backs all brown.
A drowsing turtle cracked one eye,
and gave a baleful frown.
_____________________________________________________________

We left him on his rock to dream (9)
of flies and water bugs,
of gossamer winged dragonflies,
of ebony beetles and slugs.
_____________________________________________________________

Then back into full sun we strode, (10)
bright fields they stretched around us.
Goldenrod and Queen Anne's lace;
Earth's beauty did astound us.
_____________________________________________________________

Crickets' chirping filled the air, (10)
haphazardly they sprang.
Of fragrant, sunburnt grasses
and weightlessness they sang.
_____________________________________________________________

A gentle hill, it beckoned us, (11)
we climbed it to the top,
and rolled in the sweet, tickling grass
'til at the bottom we stopped.
_____________________________________________________________

Then we stretched out on our backs (11)
and watched the clouds drift by.
Castles with turrets, knights on steeds
at home in the cerulean sky ____________________________________________________________

At last we rose and walked down the road;(12)
by houses and gardens we passed.
We saw squashes and pumpkins nestled in vines,
their season approaching at last.
_____________________________________________________________

Sunflowers like sleepy sentries stood, (12)
heads nodding in the breeze.
They waited to take evening's cool command,
when they might take their ease.
_____________________________________________________________

Our feet seemed to grow heavier, (13)
the sun had slipped behind us.
Two shadows traveling with us now
hastened to remind us…
_____________________________________________________________

That home in the blue distance lay, (13)
and mother's listening ear.
We'd talk of fields and woods and streams,
and feeling God so near.
_____________________________________________________________

I won't forget the sights or the sounds- (14)
the heat of the noon sun's rays,
or the wonder that filled our eyes and souls
that bright and blue late summer's day.

ive been to quebec a couple of times. and I am going again in two weeks

aidan,

Just a quick note to let you know that I read your poem.
You write like a dream.

I have some comments and suggestions for revising it and submitting it to an editor as a picture book, but I am so busy right now, I won't be able to get to it until tonight, or tomorrow.

later,
carlotta

Aidan -

Your poem is lovely and full of wonderful imagery.
I think you could publish it as it is. But if you want to try for a picture book, I feel it is a bit too long.

I have pulled together my favorite stanzas, re-arranged them a bit, and numbered them by page. I believe that you need only one stanza per double-page spread, and I have chosen those with the greatest art possibilities. I made sure to include all the animals! There's lots here for an artist to work with.


p. 5
One bright and blue late summer's day
we ventured on a walk.
The corn was hanging heavy,
ripe and golden on its stalk.

The azure sky above (us)me,
my brother's hand in mine,
we skipped with expectation
to see what we might find.

p.6-7
We saw a small and sheltered pond,
its waters dark and deep.
We peered into the amber depths.
What secrets did it keep?

p.8-9
Toads hopped along its borders,
their bumpy backs all brown.
A drowsing turtle cracked one eye,
and gave a baleful frown.

p.10-11
We left him on his rock to dream
of flies and water bugs,
of gossamer winged dragonflies,
of ebony beetles and slugs

p.12-13
This placid pool was cool and calm,
its surface smooth as glass.
A duck and three small ducklings swam,
We watched them paddle past.

p.14-15
My brother found a skipping stone,
flat and smooth and cool.
It walked on water; one, two, three-
then sank into the pool.

p.16-17
Bird song broke the silence
though we did not see a one.
High among the trees they sang
psalms to rain and sun.

p.18-19
The undergrowth was dappled
with splintered beams of light.
It played upon the fronds of ferns and
fiddleheads curled tight.

p.20-21
Then we stretched out on our backs
and watched the clouds drift by.
Castles with turrets, knights on steeds
at home in the cerulean sky

p.22-23
At last we rose and walked down the road;
by houses and gardens we passed.
We saw squashes and pumpkins nestled in vines,
their season approaching at last.

p.24-25
Sunflowers like sleepy sentries stood,
heads nodding in the breeze.
They waited to take evening's cool command,
when they might take their ease.

p.26-27
Our feet seemed to grow heavier,
the sun had slipped behind us.
Two shadows traveling with us now
hastened to remind us…

p.28-29
That home in the blue distance lay
and mother's listening ear.
We'd talk of fields and woods and streams,
and feeling God so near.

Note: a typical picture book starts on page 5 and ends on page 32. If you want to include a few more stanzas, you have a double spread and a single page to work with. Good luck to you.

carlotta

Carlotta - Thanks so much for taking the time to do that for me. Actually, I can picture it as a book much more easily with the stanzas you have chosen than when it is taken as a whole.

I need to do some research in terms of where and who to submit this to that would give me the best chance for acceptance for publication. Any suggestions?

And again, thank you so much. I really do appreciate it.

No, I'm sorry, Aidan. I haven't kept up with all the current markets.
You will have to do a bit of "footwork" if you seriously want to sell this idea.

First, check out the children's sections of the library. Keep a tally of the books you like, and who published them.

Second, do the same your local bookstore. Find out who's publishing, and what bookstores are buying. (Big bookstores have a lot of power.)

Once you have an idea of what the market is like, find a copy of the most current "Children's Writers Market" (a reference book in most libraries).You will find addresses, names of editors, and specifics for all (most) publishers looking for kids materials.
There is a wealth of information on the internet as well.
It is so hard to break through the first time, but it can be done.

Finally, keep submitting! Don't let one lone editor discourage you. A good friend of mine submitted her very wonderful story 30 times before a publisher accepted it. Make multiple submissions, but always tell in cover letter that you have. Expect to wait from 6 to 8 weeks for an answer. If you have been waiting for longer than 2 months, call and ask to speak to an editor.

(When you submitt; send a double-spaced manuscript copy, clean and crisp, no mis-spellings, typos, or grammatical errors. Use the type of format I did with your poem, with page numbers. Make sure that your name and address is on every page and that the pages themselves are numbered. Do not staple the manuscript copy.

Also, send a "dummy book". A separate copy in booklet form, (staples okay) starting with the Title page, p.1; here include title, author, and copyright. (copyright example: One Bright and Blue Late Summer's Day (c) 2005 Aidan____________, address, fax, email, telephone).

Number all pages thereafter. Odd numbers ALWAYS fall on the left side. Start the poem on page 5. Put a stanza somewhere on each 2 page spread, and tell the editor in one sentence what vision you have for the art on those pages.
Children's editors always think in terms of double spreads, so keep that in mind. The last stanza will fall on page 28, 30, or 32, depending upon how many extra stanzas you add to the book. )

good luck- I think your piece has the quality to make it - but, it will be a lot of hard work.

I'll look for you in the bookstore!
carlotta

Carlotta - I really can't thank you enough for all of your help. I'm going to print your post out and follow it to the letter. Nothing ventured - nothing gained, right?

Thanks so, so much...

I forgot to mention one important thing; alway include a self-addressed, stamped envelope for returning your manuscript. If you don't, they will (probably) toss it in the trash and you will wonder what happened to it forever!

C