by Karen Krossing | Sep 27, 2021 | Book News, On Writing
In a few weeks, my debut picture book will be published by Owlkids Books. I’m counting the days!
It’s a journey that began years ago, when I first fell in love with picture books as a child and, later, when I fell in love again as I read them aloud with my daughters. I adore how picture books are kind of like poetry—simple and short, yet layered and deep. How they’re a read-aloud delight of rhythm and patterns, repetition and humour, colour and wonder. How they’re a way to connect to a child reader, heart to heart, with great authenticity and emotion.
I began my quest to become a picture-book writer by analyzing picture books I adore. How did they work their magic? Later, I started critiquing the manuscripts of friends, applying what I was learning to understand how they were written. I’m grateful, in particular, to Frieda Wishinsky, who patiently taught me much during our coffee dates. Finally, I began to write my own tentative picture-book manuscripts, celebrating my messy experiments and learning from trial and error.
I became more and more excited by the possibilities of the picture-book format, so excited that I enrolled in an MFA program at the Vermont College of Fine Arts (VCFA). My first semester was a Picture Book Intensive with wonderful faculty advisor Liz Garton Scanlon, and it was an explosion of growth and learning.
I read and analyzed over 220 picture books during that semester, and I wrote critical essays to gain more insights. You can read my articles on “How to Revise a Picture Book” (Part 1 and Part 2), which I first wrote at VCFA and later published in CANSCAIP newsletters.
And I wrote and revised 12 picture books during my first semester, including metafiction, fiction, narrative nonfiction, concept books, rhythmic/lyrical, dark/difficult topics, and wordless. I explored how to limit my words so that the illustrations could take up more space in the story. How to set up highly illustratable moments with my text. How to build a frame for my story that supports the characters and plot. How to hold a manuscript lightly so it can grow and change into what it wants to be. How to write narrative nonfiction using fiction techniques. How to rewrite a single spread twenty or thirty times until I found what works. How to play with strong verbs, rhythm, and repetition. How to cut, cut, cut words to distill my manuscript into its essence.
One of my manuscripts during this semester was titled If I Wrote You a Poem, and it went on to become Sour Cakes, wonderfully illustrated by Anna Kwan.
This manuscript began as a collision of two ideas: writing about creativity and a sibling who supports another during a low time. When I let go of it being a manuscript about creativity, it became a conversation between the siblings. I wrote the first six lines and had to let it sit. Then I wrote the next twelve lines and let it sit. Then the whole story emerged. I needed to respect the creative process, not force it to be about a theme I’d predetermined, and I needed to find the characters’ voices. I did plenty of exploratory writing on the characters so I could deepen the story.
It’s been an honour to collaborate with Owlkids and Anna Kwan on Sour Cakes. It’s become all I’d hoped for when I first typed my tentative words into a blank file – a conversation between two siblings, a big one who wants to play and a little one who feels sour. Sour Cakes is told only in dialogue as Big and Little navigate how to acknowledge one’s difficult emotions and how to support someone who’s feeling those big feels. It springs from my family experiences with mental-health challenges, and it’s a deeply personal book.
I look forward to writing picture-book manuscripts for years to come, some that will find a publishing home and some that will not. In fact, I have two more picture books under contract, which I’m excited to share. Still, it’s the writing journey that calls to me. The open-hearted wildness of writing in this format that I treasure for a child audience who I value.
by Karen Krossing | Jul 30, 2018 | Mentoring, On Writing, Presentation News
Note: I’ve been writing about my journey during my MFA at the Vermont College of Fine Arts (VCFA) in Writing for Children and Young Adults. You can read Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 of my journey as well.
I’m just back from my second residency at VCFA, and I’m exhausted and inspired by days filled with lectures, workshops, readings, and so many conversations about writing. To tell you the truth, I was a little shocked when I arrived home and my family didn’t want to constantly discuss writing. At residency, I also delivered my very first lecture, which was about picture-book revisions.
In my lecture, I talked about revision as the heart of the writer’s craft. It’s the reason an editor might eventually be able to sense the pulse of my story. It’s the reason a reader might get to thrum to the beating heart of the story I’ve finally managed to infuse with life.
But how to revise well? I explored this question with a visit to the Osborne Collection of Early Children’s Books in Toronto to seek original manuscripts that became acclaimed picture books. My goal was to analyze how authors of both classic and recent books had revised their manuscripts. I thought of it as a game, where I could identify what questions the author may have asked when revising or what questions they answered through revision. I could then ask the same questions about my own works-in-progress.
Each time I revise a manuscript, I seem to go through the same painful bumps in the road. My hope is that, by analyzing and learning from others’ revision processes, I’ll be able to find the beating heart of my story more directly and with fewer bumps. Perhaps each of these questions I identified can become the basis for one pass through the manuscript. Perhaps I can infuse my intuitive process with some of this analytical knowledge.
My lecture was part of a panel discussion of picture books with four amazing students I studied with during the Picture Book Intensive (PBI) semester. Together we wrote, critiqued, and analyzed picture books in an online forum, as well as working one-on-one with our faculty advisor, the talented Liz Garton Scanlon. I found the PBI discussions to be more demanding and focused than monthly writing groups. It fostered deep thinking and valuable insights.
With my lecture done, I received a PBI certificate, since this semester can be taken separately from the whole MFA program. I was also thrilled to receive the Beyond Words Scholarship! It’s awarded to a student who demonstrates a passion and commitment to picture books. Now, to use my new knowledge of this genre, I’ll be reviewing picture books for Canadian Children’s Book News as well as continuing to write my own.
I’m now back at my desk and diving into my pile of second-semester work. In this semester, my advisor is a writer with great heart and instinct—Amanda Jenkins, author of the Printz Honor Book Repossessed, among others titles. I’m super stoked to dive into how to better connect to my characters and convey emotional depth on the page, which are my goals for this semester.
Taking this MFA program is the best gift I’ve ever given my writer self. It’s a transformative experience, and I’m so grateful for it.
Want more? You can read Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, and my final MFA post.
by Karen Krossing | Dec 20, 2017 | Mentoring, On Writing
If you’re like me, then you love to take time every now and then to look at where you are, where you came from and where you’re going. I’m a big goal-setter, and the end of a calendar year seems like a natural time to celebrate progress and re-adjust goals. I like to ask myself:
What writing did I accomplish this year?
I take a moment to celebrate every page written, no matter how much revision it still needs.
What writing did I hope to accomplish this year?
My goals are often more ambitious than I realize, and I don’t always get as far on a project as I want to. I try to respect the process, and give my projects the time they need to grow and develop fully.
What new goals do I want to set for next year?
I try to make new goals as realistic as possible. I’m famous for over-estimating what I can accomplish and then feeling discouraged when I don’t meet my expectations.
How can I help myself achieve these goals?
Maybe I need to plot out writing time and protect it fiercely. Maybe I need to respect the time it takes to ponder an idea, rather than pounding out a half-formed one. Maybe I need to read a book on writing craft or take a course. I try to find the ways forward that are right for me.
As writers, we’re often setting and assessing goals in isolation, so I encourage you to talk to your friends, family or writing partners about your accomplishments and goals. This week, I printed out my work-in-progress for a writing partner to critique, and I shared the moment with my family, letting them hold my impressive 299-page draft. It’s not done, but it’s on its way, and I’m grateful for that.
I had many stops and starts with writing this year, as well as much experimentation. Here’s my list to celebrate:
- a draft of a new young-adult novel written.
- a plan to revise a middle-grade novel and a quarter of it revised.
- three picture books written, which I’ve never done before.
- several new ideas that I’m nurturing.
I’ve also been reading kid lit more critically, assessing what works and why, and re-evaluating my revision process to figure out how to improve it. And I’ve critiqued many works-in-progress by other writers, helping them figure out their next steps.
For me, next year will be full of adventure, as I embark on a two-year MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults at the Vermont College of Fine Arts. I have personal writing goals as well as academic ones for 2018, and I’m ready to work and play hard.
Best wishes for you and your writing goals. I hope 2018 is a creative year for you.
