When people find out I’ve written a novel, they wonder why it isn’t already at the publisher or at the very least, being submitted. They gasp when I tell them if I sent it now, it’d be in a slush pile. I started my first book last year in January. I was never naive enough to think I didn’t have a lot to learn and like everything else, the more education you get, the more you discover you need.
I read books on writing for children and researched online. I practiced what I learned on my blog and in every email I sent. I wrote and wrote. After a few months, I got up the nerve to join a critique group. Snip, snip, snip; my chapters are cut up, then remade. I listened to my work read aloud. What is that racket? Where’s the poetry, the music? I printed out the chapters and took them to bed with me. They burned behind my eyelids, waking me up for more revision in the wee hours of the morn.
Recently, I joined a new critique group; one specifically for children’s book writers. They’ve seen the first four chapters and guess what? They offer more praise than suggestions! Not only is that motivation for me to continue, but it makes all the hard work worthwhile. I’m still doing battle with dastardly adverbs and passive verbs, but my pen is sharper. I hope one day my manuscript will rest, clean and polished inside a manila envelope, waiting for that positive response to a query.
