Friday Feedback with Caroline Starr Rose: The Music of Language

The real me. Shoving Banana Cream Pie in my mouth
after a glorious birthday swim! 

Is it just me, or is this summer flying faster than ever?

It's been a week. . . with both the saddest and most joyous of days. Through both, I have thought often of what it means to be a writer, how we pay attention to all of it, the big picture, and the small nuances, the broken, devastated moments, and the crystal clear blissful ones. How we are prone to insinuate our imaginary selves into every situation and ask questions. How often we want to race to find a scrap of paper, commit a line of prose to memory in our heads. How real writers never truly stop writing.

So for those of you who haven't put as many words down on paper (or up on screen) this summer as you hoped, please remember this:

Sometimes in our process we are still percolating our stories, or thoughts and ideas. Learn to sort this from pure procrastination. Learn to spend less time castigating yourself for not writing and use that realization and energy to plow yourself forward.

SO, having said that, today let's write some more! Let's share words, and passages. Look over your work and find a moment that reflects your Music of Language, or if you haven't written it yet, now is as good a time as any. Remember, sometimes you've written it, but you haven't revised it. It is often in the revision the real music begins to shine!


For more on this and what it all means, I am super excited to have one of the most poetic, musical writers I know,

Caroline Starr Rose.

Caroline is the author of two novels in verse,


MAY B.

and BLUEBIRDS,  

and her beautiful, brand spanking new picture book, OVER IN THE WETLANDS, about which Kirkus says,  

"This lyrical text uses interesting imagery, informal rhyme, and an insistent rhythm to describe the world of the bayou and the wonder of a storm..."








It's clear, then, that Caroline knows of what she speaks when she speaks to you now about writing with the music of language in your ear. So enough of me, here's Caroline:

A few weeks ago, I heard author / illustrator Betsy James speak at my local SCBWI chapter. Betsy has had decades of experience writing everything from picture books to young adult novels.

". . . a picture book author’s biggest obstacle has nothing to do with plot, character development, or conflict, but with an ear untrained 'to hear the music of language.'”

Part of her talk focused on the weaknesses we bring — knowingly or unknowingly — to our work. I found it especially interesting that Betsy felt a picture book author’s biggest obstacle has nothing to do with plot, character development, or conflict, but with an ear untrained “to hear the music of language.”

As someone who writes both verse novels and picture books, this musicality makes a lot of sense to me. The words used in verse and in picture books ideally do double duty, first in telling the story, second in helping the reader enter in. Because verse and picture books have so much in common, this idea of musicality serves authors who write in both formats. Here are a handful of ways we as readers, teachers, and writers can tune our ears and pencils to the rhythm of the spoken word.

Picture books are meant to be pleasant to the eye, ear, & tongue

Authors write novels for individual readers, but write picture books for a crowd. Reading a picture book is almost always a shared experience. The words should be pleasant to hear and say, satisfying young and old alike.

My boys are now fourteen and twelve, but I still remember lines from Mary Quattlebaum’s Underground Train:

The moving stairs roll us down, down, down to the underground train,

which rushes past like fast water on miles of track.

Rrrrruuummmmm. Whoooosshh.

I grip my fare and Mama grips

my hand as the train doors slip

aside like sliver drapes. We step

inside: the doors slide shut.

Rrrrrruuuummm. Whoooosshh.

Read those lines aloud and listen to how pleasant they sound, how fun they are to say.

Every word counts

Both verse novels and picture books major in brevity. This means that each word is selected with care. Winnow a manuscript down to its bare bones to find exactly what you need and what you don’t, as well as what you’re truly trying to say.

Rhyme is not dead

And neither is rhythm or repetition. This probably goes against everything you’ve heard about picture books, I know. While you certainly don’t need these poetic devices in your manuscript, you also don’t have to leave them out because you’ve heard the rumor books like this don’t sell.

"Your primary focus shouldn’t be your format but your story. Rhyme, repetition, and rhythm must always, always first and last serve the story . . . "

There are, however, a few things to keep in mind. Your primary focus shouldn’t be your format but your story. Rhyme, repetition, and rhythm must always, always first and last serve the story and not the other way. Notice what Mary Quattlebaum did above. She’s given us wonderful words to see, hear, and say, phrases like “rushes past like fast water on miles of track.” We’ve got ear-satisfying assonance with the words past, fast, and track. Just saying “past like fast” is awfully fun, as is “slip aside” and “step inside.” But as clever as these phrases are, they ultimately are helping us to experience the magic of Washington DC’s Metro. They sparkle and shine and engage us with purpose. Otherwise they’re meaningless.

Think musically!

Somehow, I’ve always viewed the picture books as second cousins to music (this is partially why Betsy’s idea resonated so deeply with me). Just as a picture book builds to a satisfying end, so does music, often using rhythm to set pace and tone and repetition to bring key musical phrases to the listener. An author can establish patterns to tell a story and then alter those patterns to build momentum.

"I love that the reviewer who read Wetlands for School Library Journal caught this, pointing out I 'var[ied] rhythmic patterns to mirror the storm’s energy.'”

My picture book, Over in the Wetlands: A Hurricane-on-the-Bayou Story, is a bit like a duel between the Louisiana coast and an approaching hurricane. I love that the reviewer who read Wetlands for School Library Journal caught this, pointing out I “var[ied] rhythmic patterns to mirror the storm’s energy.” As the storm passes, the original rhythm returns, building both familiarity and security for the reader and listener alike.

So, given that it's Friday Feedback, I'll share a sample from my picture book manuscript, Ride on, Will Cody! According to legend, Will Cody (later known as America’s greatest showman, Buffalo Bill) rode for the Pony Express at the age of fourteen. His longest ride covered 322 miles and required 21 horses. It was the third longest in Pony Express history.

I establish the setting and topic with rhythm and rhyme:

Night surrenders,

first light embers,

fiery sunrise

way out west.

Horses nicker,

heart beats quicker,

saddle up

for the Pony Express.

                                               

And later, as we near the climax, I build momentum by altering that pattern:

Gallop

faster,

short bit

farther,

last post

spotted

just up

yonder,

don’t give up,

keep steady, strong.

Clutch the mail bag.

Won’t be long!

I'd love you to share a moment where you use language lyrically to tell story, build momentum, and create tempo, if you've got something. Otherwise any small excerpt that shares the music of your language will do!  

As for sharing, please remember to keep your excerpts BRIEF and follow the rest of the Friday Feedback RULES!

See you in the comments!

- Caroline & gae