KidLit Quote of the Week #2

Time again for a KidLit Quote of the Week! Last week's entry was on the practical side (the funny one, too), while this week's is all about inspiration — and motivation.

"Far away in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see the beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead."

 —Louisa May Alcott

I consider raising the bar for yourself one of the most important guiding principles a person can embrace, and because I am a writer with ever-expanding writerly aspirations, I feel Alcott's articulation of it directly applies to my work. And, yes, to my sense of self, too.

It can be hard to walk that talk some days (and, no need to pretend — it's difficult some several years at a time), but I know that when I do "look up," the beauty is right there for the seeing and helps light the path I need to travel.

KidLit Quote of the Week #1

I've decided to do a weekly post in which I share one of the countless quotes I've collected about writing and books. I'll focus on quotes by children's authors, quotes by others about writing/creativity that I think can apply to writing for kids, and passages from children's books.

Why start this now? How about "Because it's Tuesday." It'll be fun!

This inaugural KLQOTW is by an author I admire for his versatility and inspirational personal story. I saw him speak at either an IRA or NCTE conference in the 1990s (ah, the books* he signed for me say the year was 1997), and his advice on finding success as a children's writer is timeless:

"Stay out of the refrigerator, read good books, steal good ideas, develop good writing habits, and marry wealthy."

—Jack Gantos

Good one, huh. And in a Universe-is-funny COMPLETE coincidence, I saw after I wrote this post that Mr. Gantos's latest book, Dead End in Norvelt, releases in hardcover today.** I will be buying that soon!


*Jack's New Power and Desire Lines
**A little synchronicity report for Artist's Way lovers.

Ah, Hemingway Always Has Something to Say

"It's none of their business that you have to learn how to write.
Let them think you were born that way."
—Ernest Hemingway

I have mixed feelings about this one.

On the one hand, I think I was born to write. (Not that I was born a great writer, mind you, just that writing is something I was born needing to do.) Then again, I feel like I'm always fighting that perception that writing doesn't take practice . . . or continued study . . . or work.

Can't argue with Hemingway's sentiment, though. Makes me laugh.

Any thoughts out there?

E. B. White on the Meaning of It All

I picked up a remainder copy of Peter E. Neumeyer's The Annotated Charlotte's Web last weekend, and I'm so glad I did. It's a fascinating look at E. B. White's creative process, with extensive descriptions of various references from within the story, snippets of White's detailed spider research, and samples of his correspondence with famed children's editor Ursula Nordstrom.

Combine all that with the kid-lit masterpiece that is Charlotte's Web, and — as a reader — I'm in piggy heaven. I'm terribly happy as a writer, too, of course. (Fellow Smackdowners take note: Mr. White took this little piece of work through eight full drafts, with plenty of editorial input and acute bouts of writerly angst.)

Get a load of this hilarious White quote, uttered after reading a critical analysis of his novel:

"It is an extraordinary document, any way you look at it, and it makes me realize how lucky I was (when I was writing the book) that I didn't know what in hell was going on."

One of the earliest lessons I learned as a rabid-for-story English-lit major some 25 years ago was that there are as many possible interpretations of any given work as there are eager-for-As interpreters. What makes a great story great is, quite often, mere simplicity. And Charlotte's Web has that in razor-sharp farm implements. (Plus, you know, universally relatable themes, engaging action, genuinely adorable characters, and jaw-droppingly gorgeous language pulling it all together.)

As much as I love deconstructing a wonderful piece of literature . . . just to see how it ticks or try to assign "meaning" . . . I love, love, LOVE it even more when a magnificent talent like Mr. White (ever so gently) calls foul on the pretension surrounding the practice.

He wrote the story he was interested in, and he — simply — kept at it until all the parts fit to make a sparkling, cohesive whole.

THE END.

What Would Patton Do? Or Hemingway?

I love a good quotable. Each day my hard-copy day planner puts two motivational snippets at my fingertips. And a widget on my iGoogle home page funnels insights from literary giants to inspire me (or demoralize me, depending on the day).

Now, I don't read the daily quotes daily. My quote-reading record is pretty spotty, in fact. But I like knowing the pearls are there, ready to illuminate, annoy, or slip by unnoticed. I tend to take more regular looks at them when I have bigger issues on my mind and, thus, need (or just take) more mini breaks.

The past several days I've been mired in the task of figuring out how to balance upcoming personal activities with the responsibilities of keeping my business healthy and strong. Naturally such decisions are in play every single day for every single one of us. But the scale of that balancing act changes from time to time, and I'm in a phase where I can count on non-work issues taking an extra-special intense center stage for known stretches of time.

Enter my quote-peeking ways!

I love it when I come across a quote at the very moment I need to see it. Last night, for instance, I calculated detailed scheduling info on my calendar pages before firing off an email to someone with the power to help make or break my best-case life-and-work scenarios. I'd had to make some prior decisions . . . you know, which projects to work on, what I can and can't try to do in this life . . . just a few little things like that. Email sent, I looked at my planner notes one last time before heading to dinner with my husband. That's when I read this quote from George S. Patton Jr.:

"Take calculated risks. That is quite different from being rash."

THAT made my night. It felt like the universe was telling me that my decision to say yes to what matters, no to what doesn't, and let the rest take care of itself was sane. Not rash. It helped reinforce my knowledge that I had rationally examined all angles — and that risks are often necessary and usually worth it, regardless of outcome.

This morning, then, I was primed to check out at all the daily quotes at my disposal. None of 'em did a thing for me. Pretty typical, really.

Later, though, I pulled out one of those pet projects I've mentioned and stared at it over lunch. This is a nonfiction thing that I just don't know how to frame. Can I really do as I want and focus on a very small piece of the much larger story? Of course I know it's possible for someone to do it, but my real question with this has been, Can I do it? No telling till I make a serious attempt at writing it, eh?

I opened up my Stickies application to jot a couple of ideas before getting back to paying work. I saw an Ernest Hemingway quote I'd saved a few months ago:

"If a writer knows enough about what he is writing about, he may omit things that he knows. The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one ninth of it being above water."

Big a-ha for me even though it wasn't. For my completed works, I can easily point to ways I've omitted things I know. For example, unspoken (or unexplained) character backgrounds and motivations in fiction. And reams of detailed research that just doesn't make the cut in nonfiction.

But I wasn't seeing the obvious answer to my writing dilemma (= no dilemma) because I was too caught up in overthinking it. Of course I can tell one story that's part of a bigger one. What story in existence ISN'T one tiny part of something bigger? It's not even that deep of an insight. Sheesh!

Now that I'm feeling all "one with my brain," I can also see that there was no true dilemma involved in making the life-and-work-balancing decisions I struggled with either. In writing, as with life, you make decisions when you're ready.

Maybe someday I'll be as decisive as George and Ernest in everything I do. On second thought, maybe I don't want to be. They may have been brilliant, but those dudes were crazy!

Quote of the Day

"Gardens are not made by singing, 'Oh, how beautiful,' and sitting in the shade." —Rudyard Kipling

And neither are stories, articles, or books. Nor, for that matter, is anything else in life you want to create.

It can still astonish me sometimes, but I can't tell you how many nonwriters and wannabe-writers I encounter who think writing involves little more than A LOT of passive, quiet contemplation in repose. Part of that, I know, can be blamed on the often romantic depiction of writing in the media. And writing is one of those things that nearly every person with reading and/or typing skills thinks s/he'd excel at if only s/he had the time or "connections." There is no shifting the tide of perception.

I don't know about you, but I'd never get anything written all cozied up by the fire or sprawled along the water's edge. To me, writing is work. Fortunately, I do get paid for it by people who think so too.

You Can't Fake Quality

I am really struggling to meet a deadline. The struggle stems from all sorts of reasons:

1) I am not as fast at the type of writing I'm doing right now as I am with other types (so, my own time estimations for the work haven't been spot on target — close, but not quite there).

2) My mind is on real life instead. As it should be.

3) Other higher-priority but unrelated time commitments sprang up after I took on this project, and there are only so many hours in a day.

4) I am exhausted.

I will press on, of course. Just taking a second to make this post because the literary quote for the day on my iGoogle page hit home. It is so very true, and I thought fellow writers out there would relate.

"So cheat your landlord if you can and must, but do not try to shortchange the Muse. It cannot be done. You can't fake quality any more than you can fake a good meal."
—William Burroughs

Trouble is, a writer for hire has her deadlines. Can't exactly ignore them and keep her clients happy. It's part of the same issue I was thinking about in this post. At least when you work with people face to face, you know them a little bit and it's easier to build flexibility into schedules. In an office, turning in a project 2 days past its scheduled due date is very often considered fantastic, even when someone works that way ALL THE TIME. You and your colleagues have a better sense for how the workdays go and can put faces to the work, a reasonable sense of wiggle room to its execution. When a freelancer comes in late on a project, she is LATE. Even with wonderful clients.

But, you can't fake quality. I can't, anyway.

Best get back to desperately trying not to be LATE.

Quote of the Day

The best time for planning a book is while you're doing the dishes.

—Agatha Christie