I’ve always been a writer. As far back as I can remember, I
wrote poems and songs, letters to my friends, editorials for my high school
newspaper, and newsletters for various organizations. It wasn’t until I wanted
to the share stories I had told my children when they were young that I thought
seriously about writing.
As I started putting the stories on paper, I realized that
they needed drawings to help make the characters come alive and I was definitely
not an illustrator. This was my first inkling that what I was writing was a
children’s picture book.
I happened to read about a writers group in our local
newspaper. It met at our local public library, not far from my house. With
manuscript in hand, I went to my first meeting, sure to find an illustrator.
I always recommend that first time attendees to any new
group do three things: listen, don’t talk, and return. Unfortunately, no one
made those suggestions to me. I thought that I had written the next picture
book blockbuster, so when they asked if anyone wanted to read their manuscript,
I shot up my hand.
After my first read, there was no expected applause, no
outrageous accolades, no sound whatsoever! After a pause that felt like an
eternity, the moderator finally spoke.
“That was a lovely story,” said the kind voice. “Any other
suggestions?”
Then the comments started to fly. Words and phrases that
were unfamiliar to me—story arc, character development, and show don’t tell—all
suggestions for my precious manuscript. I had failed! They were criticizing me!
How would I ever live through this?
I was reeling as I left the meeting, determined to never
return, until one of the members stopped me.
“You’ve got a really good idea,” she said, “I hope you work
on it and bring it back next time.”
“Thanks,” I said feebly, faking a smile.
“See you next time?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said, not knowing what would happen next.
I did return. And, over time, I began to realize that a
critique is not a criticism, but a suggestion to make my story better. It
wasn’t about me at all. It was about my story. It’s always about the story.
I was invited to a Society of Children’s Book Writers and
Illustrators (SCBWI) regional conference by one of the members of the library
group. By then, I had learned to listen, not talk, and return.
When I first walked into the huge banquet hall and saw the
hundreds of participants, I thought, “What I was doing here? These were serious
writers, authors, editors, and agents. I just wrote children’s stories.”
Yet, again, I was wrong. These were people passionate about
children’s literature and the process of creating great books. I wanted to be
like them. Wait. I was one of them. These were MY people. My tribe.
I learned about story arc, character development, and show
don’t tell, all the time making lasting friendships and laughing at the same
crazy things. And I learned that success isn’t always getting a book published
or an agent or editor interested in your work. Success is working on your
craft, your passion, and loving every minute.
Many years have passed and I continue to participate in
critique groups, take classes, and attend conferences. I still learn so much from
writers and illustrators of every level.
I’d like to invite you to join me on this journey. Whether you’re
a beginner, a scholar, or a published writer. Because, if you’re a writer, you
are my tribe!
