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| 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 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
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
