Children’s Writing Web Journal

You’re driven to write a children’s book, but you’re not sure what you want to write about. No problem, let’s figure it out. In this video, we’ll give you some tips for avoiding what *not* to write about, and how to mine your own life experiences for great subjects.

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It seems when kids turn 13, one word sums up their lives: melodrama. Emotions hover on the surface; every event is huge. Adults are idiots who don’t understand them, and their classmates are constantly watching to make sure they don’t do anything stupid (which includes wearing the wrong clothes to saying the wrong thing to listening to the wrong music). Oh. My. God. As adults on the receiving end of this hysteria, we may roll our eyes or deliberately show up at Back to School Night with wet hair, just to see our child’s response. But as authors, we can mine the drama for its flip side: humor.

Many books for teens feature characters who are on the edge of the abyss and facing life-or-death situations, extreme moral choices, or have been dealt a tough hand and have to somehow live with it. Their drama is achingly real. Or, a protagonist might be self-assured enough to rise above the sniping judgements of his peers. Both characters are admirable, but often not funny. Humor comes from a flawed character the reader genuinely likes, who’s in a sticky situation the reader can easily imagine. Then the author turns it up a notch. The reader gets to laugh at someone who’s like her, but from the safety of not having to actually suffer the humiliation personally.

In Denise Vega’s click here (to find out how i survived seventh grade), Erin Swift is not having the best start to middle school. Her big feet are the butt of jokes, she lands the role of Corn Cob in the school play, and the Cute Boy she has a crush on becomes infatuated with her best friend Jilly. But Erin’s a whiz with computers, and joins the Intranet Club to become the lead designer for the school’s web site. She also keeps a secret blog where she spills all her innermost thoughts and true feelings about everyone at her school. When her blog accidentally gets posted on the school web site, Erin’s convinced she’s going to die. Vega’s taken traditional middle school dynamics and filtered them through Erin’s self-deprecating lens, which lightens up the angst of the genuinely heart-wrenching scenes (Cute Boy’s attraction to Jilly, Erin overhearing girls criticizing her in the bathroom). Then Vega throws in every middle schooler’s worst fear: that they’ll be stripped metaphorically naked in front of their peers and revealed for who they really are. If Erin’s public blog was the only drama in the book, we’d pity Erin but not really identify with her. But because of the melodrama in earlier scenes, we know that Erin’s learning to laugh at herself, and she’ll find a way to survive this very real problem.

Parents offer endless inspiration for melodrama. If you’re looking for a good adolescent plot twist, simply ask yourself, “What the most embarrassing thing a parent could do to this character?” Your answer might give you a whole book. The opening line of Shelley Pearsall’s All Shook Up says it all: “Looking back, I would say everything in my life changed the summer I turned thirteen and my dad turned into Elvis.”

Like Vega, Pearsall keeps close to comforting upper middle grade territory but then cranks up the embarrassment. Josh is sent to live with his father in Chicago one summer when his mother has to take care of his sick grandmother. Josh hasn’t seen his dad for a while, and assumes he’s still the scatterbrained shoe salesman he remembered. But Dad’s got a new gig as an Elvis impersonator. And what’s more, when Josh’s visit is extended into the fall and he starts school in Chicago, one of his classmates leaves him anonymous notes about Elvis. Josh’s dwindling ability to keep his dad’s identity a secret is completely shattered when Dad is invited to perform at the school’s 1950s concert, and Josh must take drastic action that threatens to ruin his relationship with his father forever. Readers will certainly emphasize with Josh, but also observe how he and his father learn to compromise and respect the person each has become. Josh is forced to think about someone other than himself, which (along with the fact that Dad is a terrific performer) helps deflate the social suicide of having Elvis for a dad.

For my money, one of the best young adult beach reads you’ll find is Two Parties, One Tux, and a Very Short Film About The Grapes of Wrath by Steven Goldman. 17-year-old Mitchell is a slightly scrawny, socially inept, average student, whose best (and only real) friend tells Mitchell he’s gay one day at lunch. Mitchell’s junior high school year is marked by trying to talk to girls (Does his sister and her best friend count?), navigating the school hierarchy, reassessing his friendship with David, and turning in a slightly pornographic claymation film in lieu of an English paper on a book he hasn’t read. Much of the humor comes from Mitchell’s dry, somewhat clueless first-person voice. He’s hovering outside the whirl of popularity, and so can comment on high school without having much to lose. School Library Journal called the book “A side-splitting slice of male adolescence, [that] turns the spotlight on the ridiculousness that is the average, contemporary American high school experience.”

When I asked Goldman how he writes humor, he said, “I was just trying to capture some of the feelings I could remember from high school, and really see the world through the eyes and the running narration of a character with a particular view of the world and a particular way of expressing his feelings. One of the things I really enjoy about writing YA is that I find high school students to be funny. Frankly, I think they have better senses of humor than adults. They are willing to put themselves in situations that no one with a brain would, and yet they have the intelligence to realize that they are doing it. That risk-taking extends to language as well — they will say things that are brutally honest and horrible and therefore frequently funny.” This brutal honesty, both with each other and themselves, creates those situations bordering on melodrama. Once of my favorite scenes from Two Parties is at prom, when Mitchell is in the bathroom thinking about his date who’s abandoned him, and he accidentally pees on his white tux pants. While laughing at Mitchell’s description of himself, I couldn’t help but cringe at the image of him walking through the school gym with wet pants. Even as an adult, I still feel I share in Mitchell’s experience. That’s why writing humor for teens may be easier than you think. As Goldman said, “We never really recover from our adolescence; those years starting in middle school and continuing through high school are so formative that they we can still find them in a lot of the ways that we feel about things as an adult. I might be 45, but when I walk into a party I swear I’m still 17 and clueless about what to do next. We may leave high school, but we never really escape it.”

Interested in learning how to write a book and send it to children’s book publishers? Come on over to cbiclubhouse.com for audios, videos, insider writing tips and much, much more!

I’ve read several picture book manuscripts recently that don’t have plots. They have terrific ideas, charming scenes, even unique characters. But these particular manuscripts were missing that thread of story that starts on page one and tugs at the reader to continue turning the pages until the end. The events weren’t connected–they may have involved the same characters, but there was no cause-and-effect relationship that made one event logically follow another.

When writing children’s book fiction, it’s sometimes difficult to tell the difference between a plot point and an incident. Incidents stand alone; they may lend themselves to vivid scenes, but they have no connection to what came before in the book, and have no effect on what happens on the next page. A plot point, on the other hand, couldn’t exist without everything that preceded it, and if you remove that plot point from the story, everything that happens afterwards wouldn’t make sense. Each point is a link in a chain. Break one, and the whole thing falls apart.

Incident stories also tend to lack conflict and tension. That’s because these books are more about conveying a mood, a place, or a point in time. They show a day in the life of a particular child, what a bunny sees on his first tour of the backyard, the comforting bedtime routine of a toddler. Many picture books of previous generations were actually incident books, and in fact this type of story is still being published today as books for children up to age three. But for the mainstream, hardcover picture book crowd–those kids ages four to eight–incident books won’t cut it anymore.

You can blame television, publishing conglomerates concerned with making money, or large bookstore chains that only want titles that fly off the shelves, but the bottom line is if you’re a first-time author writing a picture book, it needs to have a plot to sell. And let’s face it, plots are a good thing. They allow children to become emotionally invested in the story, wondering what’s going to happen next. They hold kids’ attention (even before television, young children didn’t have the longest of attention spans). They invite rereading, and retelling, over and over.

If you study newer picture books, you’ll see that some of the plots are very subtle. David Shannon’s Duck on a Bike, for example, seems at first glance like an incident story. Duck finds a bike on the farm and slowly rides past all the animals. As he passes each animal, it comments on the sight of a duck on a bike. This pattern is repeated several times until suddenly a bunch of kids come down the road on their bikes, park them by the farm house, and go inside. The next spread is wordless, showing all the animals staring at the bikes. The following illustration depicts all the farm animals careening around the barnyard on bicycles with silly grins plastered to their faces. As the story ends, the animals return the bikes to the house, And no one knew that on that afternoon, there had been a cow, a sheep, a dog, a cat, a horse, a chicken, a goat, two pigs, a mouse, and a duck on a bike.

The repetition of Duck pedaling past each animal on the bike paved the way for the story’s climax. It couldn’t have happened without all the scenes that came before.

Oh sure, you say, but what about a book like Ian Falconer’s Olivia? That’s a series of incidents in the life of a spunky girl pig. Yes, it is, and this popular book proves that for every rule there’s an exception. And though it doesn’t have a conventional plotline, it does have emotion (What child hasn’t seen him or herself in Olivia, and laughed at her approach to life?) and tension (Will Olivia get in trouble for drawing on her bedroom wall? Will she convince her mother to read her four bedtime stories instead of two?). It also has exquisite illustrations by the author (if you can write and illustrate, and do both well, you’re given a bit more room to stretch the rules). But most of all, it has a strong main character. Olivia is real, multilayered, and charming. The author took the time to develop the character first, so the reader will immediately identify with Olivia and be interested in the incidents that make up her day.

If you’re just starting out as a children’s book writer, or are writing your first picture book, do yourself a favor and create a story with a plot. But before you begin, develop your main character. If you have a real character with emotions, strengths and weaknesses, that character will inevitably want something. How that character goes about getting what he or she wants will lead you to your plot. It’s really that simple.

Now all you have to do is write the book.

Interested in learning how to write a book and send it to children’s book publishers? Come on over to The CBI Clubhouse for audios, videos, insider writing tips and much, much more!

I recently opened up my email to find this message: “Can I get published as a children’s book author if I’m not a good writer?” I was taken aback at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I appreciated the question. The sender knows her limitations, but dreams of getting published anyway. She’s not suffering under the delusion that she’s the next Dr. Seuss, and I admire that. She’s going to look at her work with a critical eye, and search for ways to make it better. This is assuming that it’s possible to learn to write well.  I believe that it is.

Very few writers have the innate ability to create vibrant, relevant, compelling stories right out of the gate. Most have to work at it. And those who see writing as a skill that is never quite mastered, requiring a lifelong devotion to the learning process, will be most successful. Where this gets tricky is that unlike other skills - such as baking a cake - there is no foolproof way to learn how to write.  So while I can’t give you a one-size-fits-all method, I can give you some ideas on how you can find the path that works best for you.

Read, read, read. Why are editors always telling aspiring authors to read piles of children’s books? Because they give you a concrete representation of what works. Be sure you read good books (check reviews or ask a librarian or teacher for recommendations). By simply reading, you’ll learn about the ebb and flow of a story, how a character is introduced and developed, the types of conflicts appropriate for each age group, how to build tension in scenes and chapters, the relation of sub-plots to the main storyline, how dialogue moves the plot along, and much more. You’ll experience firsthand how a skilled author uses sensory images to immerse the reader completely in the story. By comparing several authors writing for the same age group, you’ll hear different literary voices.

I suggest reading books like those you wish to write, as well as books one level younger and one level older. So, if your goal is to write a middle grade mystery for ages 8-12, also read mysteries for ages 7-10 and 10-14. In this way, you’ll become educated about precisely what makes up a middle grade novel and how it’s different from fiction for older and younger readers. You might even learn that your story isn’t really for middle grades after all.

Another reason for reading a lot of quality books is that you need a yardstick against which to judge your own work. You’ll learn which “rules” can’t be broken and those that have more wiggle room. For example, you’ll be hard pressed to find a 60-page picture book in the stores, even by a well known author. If your picture book’s that long, you’ll have no choice but to rethink the story and fit it into 32 pages. However, you can experiment with unconventional characters and unexpected viewpoints. And the older the reader, the fewer rules apply. But no matter what you do with your plot, characters or writing style, make sure you know why you’re doing it. Don’t write the story in present tense unless it needs to unfold in real time for the reader. Don’t incorporate flashbacks unless they’re vital for understanding what’s going on in the story now.

Find a system that works for you. The first step toward learning to write is figuring out how you learn the best. Some authors I know are very left-brained; they love charts and graphs and lists. They thrive on tracking their scenes and plotting out their book on every level before they start to write. Those left-brainers will analyze published books and count the words per page, note which scene contains the plot’s catalyst, chart out where the tension rises and falls in each chapter. Others prefer to learn more intuitively. They read books, absorb the different writing styles, and maybe jot down a few notes with overall impressions or key points they want to remember. They have a general idea of where their own story is going, and aren’t afraid to experiment and take detours along the way.

If you don’t know where you fall on the spectrum, try different approaches and see what feels right. Remember that there is no one way of doing this, and every method has its pros and cons. Plotting out your story beforehand can prevent you from wandering off track, but the lists can become an evasive technique to keep you from actually writing the book. Letting the words spill onto the page with no grand plan feels very creative, but usually results in huge first drafts that have to be significantly trimmed and shaped. If you write long enough you’ll discover your weaknesses and devise ways to work around them. Maybe you outline first, then put it away while you write your first draft. Maybe you lay out your scenes on a plotline after each chapter, then revise as needed before moving on to the next chapter. If your dialogue tends to wander in circles before coming to the point, you’ll learn to get it on paper and then tighten it in the second draft.

Recognize your strengths. Some authors are brilliant nonfiction writers but can’t sell a fiction story. Others write wonderful picture books but are overwhelmed by all the layers to a novel. Instead of trying to force a style that isn’t you, start with what you’re naturally good at. You don’t have to publish fiction to be a successful author. You may dream of writing picture books, but if you have a knack for relating to teenagers, maybe young adult novels are your future.

Discovering your strengths involves experimenting with several writing styles and age groups. If you don’t know where to start, think about the kinds of children’s books you most like to read. Then play around with writing dialogue or scenes for the same age group. If you’re naturally drawn to nonfiction, make a list of topics that excite you. Start by writing about one of the subjects in the style of some of your favorite children’s magazines.

Above all, practice. Over the years I’ve worked with writers who have gotten published through sheer force of will. They’ve gone over manuscripts again and again, taking them from mediocre to polished. They’ve put aside ideas that simply didn’t work and turned to something new. And they never submitted the first or second draft to an editor, because those manuscripts could always be improved. They weren’t very good writers when they began, but they learned. And you can too.

Interested in learning how to write a book and send it to children’s book publishers? Come on over to The CBI Clubhouse for audios, videos, insider writing tips and much, much more!

Looking to send a manuscript to children’s book publishers? Here’s an easy three-step approach to help you find just the right publisher for your story!

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Interested in learning how to write a book and send it to children’s book publishers? Come on over to The CBI Clubhouse for audios, videos, insider writing tips and much, much more!

One of my favorite bits of wisdom found in William Least Heat-Moon’s Blue Highways: A Journey into America (including the first line: Beware thoughts that come in the night.) is contained in an exchange Heat-Moon had with a man he met in Tennessee. The man asked him, “Where you headed from here?” Heat-Moon replied, “I don’t know.” Grinning, the man pronounced, “Cain’t get lost then.”

There’s something incredibly liberating about not knowing where you’re going. We rarely have this freedom in our daily lives. We have to plan the next project for work, or whose turn it is to drive the kids to school, or what we need to pick up at the grocery store for dinner. So when we have the opportunity to actually let go and float with the current, we should take it. For writers of children’s fiction, it’s essential to embrace the unplotted course.

I can’t count how many manuscripts I’ve read where it’s very clear that the writers began with the ending. They knew where they wanted to end up; the lesson they wanted to teach, or the message they needed to convey. Then they worked backwards, manipulating their characters and plots to arrive at preconceived destinations. This always — always! — results in stories that are heavy-handed, contrived, and often don’t make sense.

Instead, I suggest to these writers that they start with their protagonist, and brainstorm from there. Ask “What if?” What if this character reacted to the problem differently. What if another character worked against him. What if you flipped some character traits, from confident to shy, from bookish to musically gifted, from being a football player to a skateboarder. Where might you end up?

Some authors can’t let go of their ending. It’s too scary, not knowing where they’re headed. They need assurance that their work will have a purpose before they invest the time and effort to write it. What if they try a new direction and it doesn’t pan out? Then they’ll have to start all over again. Or (and this is really scary for some authors), what if they embrace a new direction, and the whole meaning of their book changes? Instead of teaching kids that everyone should be valued for their special talents, their book might evolve into a story about not taking life too seriously. And that’s not the message they want kids to hear.

Sadly, these writers probably won’t get published. To them, the theme is more important than the plot. The message more important than the story. The destination takes precedence over the journey. What they don’t understand is that when a child opens a book, it’s the journey he’s looking forward to. The ending has to be good, but getting there must be great.

Magical, unforgettable journeys aren’t always planned. Sometimes they happen by accident. If you have the heart and soul of a writer, this shouldn’t scare you. In fact, it’s exciting. If you’re open to working a long time on your protagonist, so you know this character inside and out and he has many facets to his personality, then at some point the protagonist takes over. He’ll show you where the story needs to go. If you’re comfortable with brainstorming and actually putting any idea that pops into your head down on paper without editing, you’ll make subconscious connections between ideas that you didn’t even know you had. And if you’re committed to story, not message, you could end up with a book that’s bigger than anything you ever imagined.

We often talk about the structure of fiction: a character who has a problem to solve, a catalyst that gets the plot moving, an ending that resolves the problem in a believable way. These techniques are still a vital part of writing, but don’t worry about them until you know exactly who your protagonist is and what that character needs. If you try to think of a catalyst before you know what your character wants, you can’t possibly put that character in a situation that drastically effects his life. Wander around and explore your options before you worry about your story’s foundation. Let yourself get lost before you find the perfect place to settle down.

What about nonfiction? Surely you need to know where you’re going when you’re writing factual material, right? In this case, you probably will know where you have to end up; what topic you’re going to explore, or what points you want to make. But how you get there is still up for grabs. Do you want to write about medieval life from a humorous perspective, with short bursts of information interspersed with jokes, trivia and quizzes? How about a day in the life of a 12-year-old peasant? Maybe a collection of recipes for everything from celebratory feasts to common dinners to medicinal concoctions? As you’re researching, keep an open mind. You may stumble across a gem that completely changes the direction of your book for the better. Or, you’ll amass so much material that you’ll have a book and five articles, all with a different focus.

One of the perks of writing for children is that your options are endless. Getting there is half the fun. As long as you’re open to infinite possibilities, you’ll never lose your way.

Interested in learning how to write a book and send it to children’s book publishers? Come on over to The CBI Clubhouse for audios, videos, insider writing tips and much, much more!

I have a very clean house. I vacuum almost daily, regularly dust my silverware drawer for crumbs, and organize my closets at least three times a year. What’s my secret? I’m a writer who works from home.

Like many writers, when deadlines loom I circle my laptop, finding excuses not to get started. But because I do consider myself a writer (and my Mexico vacation depends on it), eventually I plant myself in the chair and get to work. And yet I’m one of the lucky ones. I hear from a lot of people who long to call themselves writers, but have generated all sorts of reasons never to try. So here’s a list of the top five dreamdashers, and why none of them hold any water:

I have no time to write. Every beginning writer is time-challenged, because until you’re getting paid for your writing, you’re probably spending a chunk of each day doing something else. But consider this: author Claudia Mills, who has two sons and works as a college professor, said at a workshop that she writes every morning while her family is still asleep. Many days, she only gets in 5-15 minutes of writing. But those are actual writing minutes; not minutes spent thinking about writing, or worrying about writer’s block, or staring at a blank piece of paper. When she assembles all those little bits of intensive writing over several weeks, she ends up with a book. Check out her results at http://www.claudiamillsauthor.com

I’m too old. Editors won’t know how old you are if you don’t tell them. Your readers won’t know if you don’t put your picture on the book cover. If you write well, your voice will be ageless. I know of a woman who promised herself on her 65th birthday that she’d pursue a lifelong dream of writing a children’s book. She followed the advice to “write what you know,” and at age 69 received her first contract for a middle grade novel based on events from her childhood.

I don’t have a college degree. Guess what? Neither do your readers. Sure, it’s necessary to know the basic rules of grammar and how to express yourself on paper, but hopefully you mastered that by junior high. The best education you can give yourself as a potential children’s book writer is to read children’s books––many children’s books, especially those similar to the kind of books you want to write. And don’t let your lack of knowledge about a nonfiction topic stop you from writing about it. If you’re a skilled writer who enjoys research, you can teach yourself enough about many subjects to write about them, or find experts to help you fill in gaps in your knowledge.

Everything’s been written about. You’re probably right, but next season the shelves will be stocked with brand new books. Why? Because though it feels like we’re approaching the saturation point on new ideas, the way those ideas are presented can constantly change. You have a unique way of looking at the world that no one else can duplicate. So play around with those worn out ideas until you hit on something fresh.

Publishers are afraid of controversial topics/religion/men writing for kids/books that teach a lesson…. The only thing publishers are afraid of is not selling books. Do cutting edge, issue-driven books get attention? Take a look at prestigious awards lists. Does religion sell? Go to any chain bookstore and see that even trade publishers are bringing out fiction and nonfiction with religious themes. Do male writers need to use female pseudonyms? Again, I refer you to prestigious awards lists. Can a children’s book contain a moral these days? If you do it in an entertaining way without preaching, parents will snap up your work.

If you’re tempted to start a sentence with “Publishers are afraid…,” it probably means one of two things: you haven’t walked into a bookstore recently, or it’s easier to blame a pile of rejection letters on timid editors than to figure out why your manuscript isn’t selling. Though editors are under pressure to show a profit (publishing is a business, after all), they’re always looking for the next manuscript that will turn children’s books in a new direction. If you’re going to be that writer, in the end all you really need to do is plant yourself in the chair and get to work.

Laura Backes publishes Children’s Book Insider, the Newsletter for Children’s Writers. For info about writing children’s books, free articles, market tips, insider secrets & more, visit http://Write4kids.com.

Interested in learning how to write a book and send it to children’s book publishers? Come on over to The CBI Clubhouse for audios, videos, insider writing tips and much, much more!

A former workshop student of mine recently thanked me for reminding her that query letters are best when they’re short and to the point. A published writer, she said she’d gotten away from the KISS method of querying (Keep It Simple, Stupid).

The more I thought about her acronym, the more I realized it applied to all aspects of writing children’s book fiction. When dealing with kids one-on-one, we adults often give them information on a need-to-know basis. When asked, “Why do I have to change my underwear every day?” we could go into detail about germs or proper hygiene, but instead answer, “Because you’re starting to stink.” It gets the point across with minimal verbiage. And that age-old parental justification–”Because I said so”–sometimes is the only reason needed.

So why do we get so complicated when writing for children? Why do our picture book plots span several weeks and contain characters with large extended families and numerous friends? Why do our magazine articles attempt to cram a subject’s entire life into 800 words? Kids are masters of cutting through the fog and getting right to the point. Here are some ways we can learn from our audience:

Eliminate adjectives and adverbs. If your nouns and verbs are strong, you won’t need to add extra words to describe them. He trudged up the hill says the same thing as He walked slowly and steadily up the hill, placing his feet heavily with each step, only more succinctly. Instead of describing a house as huge, grand, or enormous, let your character do it with one word: Jason gazed at Grandma’s house. “It’s a castle,” he thought. A single, well-chosen noun draws a picture in your reader’s mind better than several general adjectives.

Write your plot direction in one sentence. In our Children’s Authors’ Bootcamp workshops, Linda Arms White and I teach writing a story line as a tool for plotting (This a story about __________, who wants more than anything to ________, but can’t because ____________.) This story line identifies the main character, his/her greatest goal, and what’s standing in the way of the character achieving that goal. Regardless of the length of your story, the age group, or whether you have subplots and chapters, the story line works to keep the action of your plot on track. The key: Keep it to one sentence (there’s no wiggle room on this one).

What if you’re not writing about your character achieving his greatest goal, or its flip side, your character avoiding facing his greatest fear? A plot about something your character sort of wants isn’t good enough. A conflict involving a minor annoyance isn’t as compelling as a life- changing event. Maybe your character is up against so many obstacles that the reader can’t figure out which one is the most important. As the author, you need to boil your story down to the one aspect of your character’s life that’s going to take center stage for the duration of the book. Remember, you’re not writing about your character’s entire existence, just the period of time encapsulated in your story. One goal shines above the rest. All subplots and secondary characters serve as stepping stones toward that goal. Some lead your character in the right direction, some take detours, but all ultimately end up in the same place.

Give your reader only the information he needs right now. Don’t throw in details about a character unless it’s directly related to the current action of the story. This often happens with secondary characters, who suddenly develop a phobia or acquire an annoying sibling in the middle of a scene. Such dangling attributes feel contrived and only raise distracting questions in the reader’s mind. The same goes for a character’s life before the story began. We generally don’t need to know the past of every person who appears in the book. Reveal as much information as the reader must have to understand what’s happening at each point of the plot, and cut the rest.

Use the “need-to-know” philosophy with query letters. When composing a query letter or cover letter to an editor, include only the information an editor needs to judge whether he or she may be interested in reading your manuscript. Your motivation for writing the story doesn’t matter; your ability to summarize the plot in a few sentences does. Your experience as a parent or grandparent doesn’t guarantee you’ll write a strong article; your adherence to the magazine’s word limit shows you’ve done your research. Editors are busy people who love short letters with lots of white space. Respect the simplicity of presenting your work with minimal buildup and letting your manuscript speak for itself.

Above all, keep your message clear and age-appropriate. A picture book about poverty is too broad and abstract for a six-year-old to understand, but a story about a child who is embarrassed because she gets free lunch at school is more specific. Whatever age you’re writing for, use one well- defined character to represent the bigger issue. Smaller, intimate stories are more relevant to the reader. Nonfiction that shows the reader how the topic relates to his life, or focuses on one aspect of a subject, makes a greater impact. And remember, if you want your manuscript to sell, start with a KISS.

Interested in learning how to write a book and send it to children’s book publishers? Come on over to The CBI Clubhouse for audios, videos, insider writing tips and much, much more!

Many beginners believe writing picture books are a breeze, but it requires a lot of skill to pack a story into a few words. If writing a picture book is your dream, here are some tips to consider before you begin:

Keep it simple. You should be able to sum up the plot of your picture book in three sentences. Not every detail, of course, but the broad strokes. Use one sentence for the beginning (naming your main character and the problem or conflict he’ll face in the story), one for the middle (describing the gist of the efforts your character makes to solve his problem), and one for the end (how he finally resolves the conflict and reaches his goal). If three sentences doesn’t capture the essence of your plot, then it’s probably too complex for a picture book.

Note: You’re concentrating here on plot (the action of the story), rather than theme (the underlying message). Don’t get into describing theme when you’re summarizing your plot. The theme shouldn’t even be an issue at this point. You want to construct the story so the character’s actions, and how he changes because of those actions, implies a lesson to your readers.

Think in pictures. The term “picture books” says it all: the illustrations are just as important as the words. The average picture book is 32 pages long, with about four pages of front matter (title page, copyright page, etc.) So you have 28 pages of text and illustration. If you aim for 1000 words to tell your story (the average length of picture book text), that gives you about 36 words per page (some pages will have more words, some less, depending on the pacing of your story). While you don’t want to obsess over precise word counts when you’re writing early drafts of your manuscript, do keep in mind that every page of your book needs to inspire a different illustration. So count out 36 words from your manuscript and note how big a block of text that is on the page. That’s about how many words you can devote to each illustration. After that, your characters have to do something— move around, change locations— so the illustrator will have a new picture to draw.

One way to think in pictures is to convey the character’s problem, and her efforts to solve that problem, in concrete, visual terms. If your character is having trouble memorizing facts for school, that all takes place inside her head. But if she’s embarrassed because she can’t swim, then her attempts to learn are easily illustrated.

Note: Some illustrations will span two facing pages, called a two-page spread. In this case, you’ll have about 70 words for that one illustration. But picture books are a mix of single page illustrations and two-page spreads, so keep the action moving at a good pace.

Keep a childlike outlook. Picture book characters can be children, adults, animals or fantasy characters. But all main characters must embody the sensibilities of a child between the ages of 4-8. This mean the problem your characters faces needs to be relevant and important to your target audience. The way your character tackles that problem must fit with the way a child would tackle it. Don’t create an adult main character just so you can impose some adult wisdom on your readers. Grown-up characters using the emotional, illogical and sometimes messy coping strategies of children can be a very effective, and funny, storytelling technique. Above all, the character must be the one to solve the problem, using methods that are accessible to children. If readers see themselves in your main character, then they’ll understand the underlying message of your story.

Interested in learning how to write a book and send it to children’s book publishers? Come on over to The CBI Clubhouse for audios, videos, insider writing tips and much, much more!

Unlike their parents, when kids look for advice they don’t usually turn to Oprah. Most kids get everyday, self- improvement type information from children’s magazines. If you’re brimming with ideas for articles on how to teach kids to help themselves or develop new skills, here are some tips:

* Let the audience and age group guide your topic. Each magazine has a different focus–some are health-related, others might concentrate on the activities of a specific organization. Make sure your advice fits with the magazine’s editorial slant. Also, pay attention to the age of the targeted audience. An article on why spreading gossip is a bad thing is relevant to teen and preteen readers. A piece about being a responsible pet owner could appeal to any age group, depending on how it’s written. So check out potential markets before you sit down to write.

* Don’t preach. You’re giving advice, so it’s tempting to lecture or preach to the reader. Don’t. You’ll lose your audience faster than you can say Dr. Phil. Instead, acknowledge what your readers face in their lives and let them know you’re on their side. “The hard truth is, sharing DNA with your siblings is no guarantee that you’re always going to like each other,” is a better approach to an article about resolving sibling rivalry than, “Brothers and sisters are supposed to love each other. Fighting just drives your parents crazy. Let it go!”

* Don’t try to sound “hip.” Use a normal conversational tone when writing advice for kids, as if you’re speaking to agroup of them in person. Don’t throw in slang or pop references unless they routinely roll off your tongue. On the other hand, opening your article with an anecdote, unusual statement, or humorous question can be an attention- grabber. Just make sure those anecdotes are about other kids, and don’t begin with, “When I was your age….”

* Talk directly to the reader. This is one of those rare situations where the second person point of view works. Address the readers directly (The first time you walk into a new school, you may feel nervous. You might even think everyone’s looking at you. Don’t worry–all new students feel this way.) Put the readers right into the article so they can see how your advice can be useful in their lives.

* When possible, combine the advice with a “how-to” approach. After explaining to the readers how to make an improvement in their lives, show them. Either as part of the article or as a separate sidebar, give how-to, step-by-step instructions that can be seen at a glance. For example, if you’re writing a piece for teens on being financially responsible, you can include a how-to sidebar on finding a summer job, complete with tips for filling out applications and doing interviews.

Use other self-help and advice articles in your targeted magazine markets as templates for how you should write your article. Pay attention to style, length, and whether the information is presented in small bites or large chunks. Then unleash your best advice, and one day you too may be on Oprah!

Interested in learning how to write a book and send it to children’s book publishers? Come on over to The CBI Clubhouse for audios, videos, insider writing tips and much, much more!