children’s book – Page 6 – Hey, Look! A Writer Fellow!

October 26, 2012

Craftastic!

Gobble! — Meet Corky. Suitable for framing.

My first Sarah Gives Thanks public appearance is on October 28 at 2 pm at Well Read, a charming, independent bookstore in Hawthorne, New Jersey.

I figured it wouldn’t be much work; I’d talk a little about Sarah Hale and Thanksgiving and then I’d read the book and sign copies.

But, Bill, the owner of the place, wanted more.

“You have a craft?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, a what?”

“It’s easier to get kids in the store when you also offer a craft.” Then he added – I assume to be helpful – “You know, something crafty.”

Ah.

Now, I am not a crafter. My skills don’t go very far beyond writing and doodling. But, lately, I also find myself becoming more and more skilled in the art of lying. So I assured Bill that I did have a craft. “A good one,” I said with a confident nod.

And then I floundered around for the next couple of weeks trying to think of something.

What I came up with was this guy at the top of my post. Meet Corky the Turkey. He needs your crayon skills. Coloring is the first part of the craft.

You may have noticed that Corky does not have any tail feathers. Well, fear not. I cut a bunch of tail feathers out of orange and yellow construction paper. Each child takes a handful of these feathers and writes something that he or she is thankful for on each one. Then the feathers are glued onto Corky’s butt. And that’s the second part of the craft.

For Hortense's tushie. — Now Corky can shake a tail feather.

Ta Daaa! Just call me crafty.

I know, I know. It is a far, far cry from what can be found at the incredible pillows a-la-mode and mywithershins. But it certainly beats tracing your hand and sticking a beak on the thumb.

So, onward!

***

On another note, The BCCBA Acronym Contest is almost over! Don’t forget to submit your entry by October 31 for a chance to win a free, signed copy of Sarah Gives Thanks!

October 20, 2012

Boycott BCCBA’s Acronym! Win My Book!

yecch — And Madonna’s ego lived happily ever after.

Two weeks ago I began what I was confident would become a nationwide movement: The Boycott Celebrity Children’s Book Association (BCCBA).

While I am delighted to report that many of the regular commenters on this blog are now active members of this fine organization, the “nationwide movement” thing still eludes me.

Fortunately, the always charming Vanessa “Candy” Chapman came up with a possible reason for this: the Association’s acronym sounds more like an answer key to a multiple-choice quiz than the name of a powerful social movement.

Vanessa’s idea was wise.

Then Vanessa suggested the acronym, CRAP – and, well, that didn’t quite do it for me. Even when the equally charming Anne Woodman seconded the CRAP idea by suggesting it could stand for “Celebrity Resistance and Avoidance Project,” I was unmoved.

You see, the problem I have with CRAP, or any negative-sounding acronym, is that it sends a mixed message:

Support CRAP!

See what I mean? The reason why I started BCCBA was so people would STOP supporting crap.

But, hey, acronyms are tricky.

They are so tricky, in fact, that a really good one might be worth…wait for it… a free copy of my book, Sarah Gives Thanks!

“Wait,” you might be saying, “is that the book that’s so popular it’s going into its second printing?”

YES, THAT’S THE ONE!

Don’t delay! Suggest a new, snappy acronym in the comments section. The best one (as determined by a panel of judges) will receive a signed, first edition of Sarah Gives Thanks!

But wait there’s more! The winner will also be offered the co-presidency of the soon-to-be-renamed BCCBA! (That executive title, by the way, is suitable for any resume.)

The contest will be closed on October 31. So put your thinking caps on! Enter early and often! Spread the word!

Good luck!

September 29, 2012

Doh!

Sometimes we are defined by our obsessions.

A couple of months ago, I wrote a post about the inspiration behind my picture book manuscript, Momma No-Nose. The story is about as dissimilar from Sarah Gives Thanks as you can possibly get.

Here’s the gist of it: After a petting zoo burro goes rogue and gets a bit too nibbly, our narrator’s Momma suddenly finds herself noseless. This turns out to be quite a problem. She can no longer keep her glasses on her face or tell if the milk is sour. Worst of all, the once happy and outgoing Momma no longer wants to leave the house. Just in time for Mother’s Day, however, her artistic son makes Momma an ingenious PlayDoh proboscis that, in one fell swoop, restores her self-esteem and improves the family’s fortunes forever.

Oh, and, in case you need me to tell you, Momma No-Nose is supposed to be funny.

Now, I knew this story had long odds for publication before I finished the first draft. I kinda figured Momma No-Nose was gonna be one of those stories “just for me.” I was cool with that.

But I soooo loved the results of my early writing efforts. So I put in more effort. Then I put in even more effort. Then I presented it at my critique group – twice – and revised the story accordingly.

I admit, I went a little daft. I caught No-Nose Fever.

Sadly, No-Nose Fever is not contagious. Editors aren’t feelin’ the love for this story in a way editors have never not felt the love for a story of mine ever before. I actually got a rejection one hour after I submitted No-Nose – a personal record I have no desire to break, but one that kind of dazzles and impresses me, nonetheless.

But like the coyote’s obsession with his roadrunner, I couldn’t quite put this thing behind me. The more No-Nose was rejected, the more I refused to read the writing on the wall.

“I just haven’t found the right market,” I told myself.

So I kept at it, tweaking the cover letter and looking for ways to punch up the comedy and tighten the word count. Oh, and I kept submitting.

My son, Alex, is the only other person with No-Nose Fever; it must be genetic. He would sometimes ask me about Momma No-Nose’s progress – and was almost as amazed as I was that no editor on earth seemed to like it. So the other day I made him a solemn promise: “If Momma No-Nose doesn’t get picked up by the end of this year,” I said, “I will draw all the pictures and make the book just for you.”

“Mine will be the only one?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“The ONLY one?”

“The only one.”

“Wow. The only one.” He let that roll around his brain for a while. Then he smiled.

I smiled, too. Suddenly the idea that Alex would have the only copy of Momma No-Nose felt like a wonderful, wonderful thing. I decided right then and there to stop pitching this story. I didn’t want to do anything to mess up my promise.

Besides, in that little moment with my son, I had achieved my goal; I had found a market for Momma No-Nose. It wasn’t a large market, but it was big enough for me.