It’s been a long wait, but as my friend Kim says, babies often go past their due dates…and who among us really knows the gestation period of a dragon?
But alas, we are proud to announce the birth of our newest little Dragon, a board book for the tiniest Dragon enthusiasts. Arriving 12:00 AM August 31, and measuring 7 x 0.6 x 7 inches, I Love My Dragon is 10.6 ounces of color-splashed adventure for the chubbiest of teeny fingers.
Of course, Larry had to build a sandcastle to commemorate the birth and our other two Dragons were on hand to celebrate!
Recently, I was asked what was the worst writing advice I’ve ever received. To be sure, there’s no shortage of advice out there—good and bad. That said, I think a lot of bad advice is doled out with good intentions. Sometimes, it’s simply outdated advice. Other times, it’s cloaked in absolutes, like ‘always’ and ‘never’. Many times, people use it to deter others from making the same mistakes they’ve made.
Occasionally, it’s weary advice, the “I’m really tired of seeing this done poorly, so please just don’t even try” advice. And while it’s sometimes understandable, I’d venture to say this last one isn’t good advice. We should all be able to at least try. And who knows? We might be the ones to succeed.
You see, writing is a subjective business. The book I love may not be someone else’s cup of tea, and vice versa. By the way, don’t use cliches like ‘cup of tea’ when you write. Just don’t. Unless it’s a book about cliches. Or unless your main character is in a coffee shop and orders a cup of tea.
And don’t even get me started on ‘just’. Superfluous words! Strike them all. JUST DO IT.
Oh…wait. That line sounds vaguely (and famously) familiar.
See what I mean?
There is no ‘one size fits all’ here. Some of the best-selling books (and slogans) currently in the market go against the ‘professional’ advice. Does that mean it’s bad?
Not necessarily.
This is a subjective business, which means sometimes ‘good’ advice is contradictory.
When I was shopping When A Dragon Moves In around, I received two professional critiques from top tier editors in the publishing world. It’s a story about a little boy who builds the perfect sandcastle, only no one believes him, causing the dragon to act out and the boy to be blamed. I wanted it to be up to the readers to decide whether Dragon was real or simply a figment of the boy’s imagination.
The first editor said, “No, you have to make sure the readers know the dragon is imaginary.
The second editor said, “No, you have to make sure the readers know the dragon is real.”
Needless to say, I was confused and a bit depressed after the critiques. I had already sent the manuscript out to several publishing houses and agents. I’d received four rejections. Only one sub remained unanswered.
A month later, Flashlight Press editor Shari Dash Greenspan followed up my submission query with a question: “Is the dragon real or not?”
My stomach knotted. But before I could change my mind, I typed: “I want the readers to decide” and hit send. I waited for the rejection.
But lo and behold—she embraced the concept! To be fair, she mentioned the challenge of drawing a character that may or may not be there. We researched other books for a year to see if this was possible. With each email, I wondered if she’d change her mind. But she didn’t. Then she brought the brilliant illustrator Howard McWilliam on board and the two of them took my vision to heights I’d never dreamed.
In the ten years since Dragon was released into the world, it’s won awards, has been read by celebrity online storytellers and just this past December, named a Teacher’s Pick by Amazon.
Does this mean the other editors’ advice was bad? No. It means it was ‘just’ advice. (There’s that pesky word again. Remind me to edit it out before I post this.)
Here’s the thing. It’s your project. If the advice resonates, take it. If not. Leave it. You can always change your mind if the counsel doesn’t work out.
Last week, I met with one of my critique groups through Zoom. As always, they offered fantastic suggestions and encouragement to launch me into the revision process on a new manuscript. One of the group members started off by saying, “This is such a Jodi story.”
Of course, this made me smile. Every creative seeks to find their ‘voice’. Something that distinguishes it from other voices. Even if I’m not familiar with a specific song, I can always recognize the unique brilliance of David Bowie.
Since I’m no David Bowie, it also gave me pause. What is a ‘Jodi story’? I’d like to think every story I write is from my heart. From my ‘core’. But what does that mean?
I’ve written both funny and poignant stories. Tales filled with long, lyrical sentences, others with short, choppy ones. Some rhyming, some prose. What one thing was central to all of these?
It hit me as I carved up an apple for lunch. The core was filled with seeds. Powerful little nuggets that develop into trees, that in turn, produce more fruit and more seeds. Tiny grains promoting existence. Growth. Hope. The cycle of life.
“That’s it!” my brain yelled in its best Charlie Brown impression.
My ‘core’ is also made up of the seeds I want to spread into the world. My mission is to use my voice to empower others to find, value and use their own.
A few years ago, I received this lovely letter after a school visit:
In a very literal sense, I inspired this young lady to believe in her own voice. Her words brought tears to my eyes. They still do.
What’s more, her voice inspired me to continue to use my voice to spread the seeds of empowerment. See how this works?
It’s like a life cycle, and when cycles connect, amazing things blossom. Which actually circles back to the theme of my new picture book manuscript. You know, the one my critique partner said was a ‘Jodi story.’
We were traveling home from Alaska when whispers of the pandemic began to reach our ears. It’s a trip I’ve held close to my heart as we sheltered in place. I look forward to building more memories as the world heals…
Today’s book spine poem celebrates that I’m definitely better at watching The Great British Baking Show than emulating it. (But I’m learning, step-by-step, tsp-by-tsp.) 😉
