Showing posts with label Marfe Ferguson Delano. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marfe Ferguson Delano. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Stretching, Soaring and Singing, by Marfé Ferguson Delano

 In this, my last blog for I.N.K., I'm happy to announce a first, a couple of firsts, actually. They're my first picture books for the 3- to 6-year-old set, Butterflies and Frogs. Never before have I written for such a young audience. It was so much more satisfying than I expected it to be! It was also much, much harder than I thought it would be. But hard in a good way, in a stretch-your-wings way, in a let-your-heart soar way, in a let-your-words sing way. All while sticking to the facts.

 Of course, writing these books wasn't all stretching and soaring and singing. There was a lot of sighing and groaning and wheel-spinning, a lot of self-doubt and frustration. There were lots of half starts and restarts and false starts. There was a lot of popcorn and chocolate. Not that there's anything wrong with that.


 But back to the soaring and singing. I got back to nature and paid attention to it. I visited butterfly gardens and spent hours in my own back yard, watching swallowtails and monarchs and fritillaries flutter and feed on Joe Pye weed, which is rightly called a butterfly magnet. I listened to spring peepers chirp peep-peep-peep and bullfrogs bellow jug-o-rum. I kept my eyes peeled for frogs snuggling into squishy, squelchy mud by streams or ponds. I looked and I listened. And I marveled.

Linda Salzman, thank you for creating this marvelous I.N.K. blog and for inviting me to be a part of it. I have learned so much from this experience and all the I.N.K. contributors. It's been great. Bye, y'all.




Tuesday, March 25, 2014

VERY SAME TOPICS, VERY DIFFERENT BOOKS Rosalyn Schanzer


It's pretty impressive to see how many different ways nonfiction authors can present the very same subject matter or the very same people in their books. To get the gist, today I thought it might be fun to compare some examples of books on the same topic--mostly (but not entirely) by our own INK authors and illustrators. I'll be brief, I promise.  


So how about starting with our foremost founding father, George Washington himself. Each of these 3 authors has come up with entirely different hooks to pique your interest, so a young audience could get a pretty well-rounded view of our guy by checking out these true tales.



First up is The Crossing: How George Washington Saved the American Revolution by Jim Murphy.  His hook is to focus on Washington's growth as a leader, obviously leading up to the famous crossing of the Delaware on Christmas in 1776. He's used some very interesting artwork from the period to enhance the tale.

Next comes an entirely different take on George from Marfe Ferguson Delano. Her book, Master George's People, tells the story of George's slaves at Mount Vernon, and she has collaborated with a photographer who shot pictures of reenactors on the scene. 


And this one is  (ahem) my version. George vs. George: The American Revolution as Seen from Both Sides shows how there are two sides to every story.  I got to meet George Washington and King George III and paint their pictures myself.
OK, on to the second set.  In one way or another, the next 3 books are all based upon Charles Darwin and his Theory of Evolution. Let's start with Steve Jenkins' handsome book Life on Earth: The Story of Evolution.  With a nod to Darwin, Steve has created a series of stunning collages along with fairly minimal text in order to focus on the history of all the plants and animals on the planet. 
And here's yet another nod to Deb Heiligman for her celebrated true tale of romance between two folks with opposite views of the world. Despite Emma's firm belief in the Bible's version of life on earth, she and Charles enjoy a warm and loving marriage.
Mine again. What Darwin Saw: The Journey that Changed the World, tells about Darwin's great adventures as a young guy while traveling around the world. We're on board In this colorful graphic novel as he picks up the clues that lead to his Theory of Evolution and then does the experiments that prove it.
And here's series number 3.  Apparently these authors and illustrators were hard at work at the very same time on three very different picture books about the very same person; her name is Wangari Maathai, and she won the Nobel Peace Prize for bringing Kenya's trees back to life after most of them had disappeared. 

The artwork in all three books is outstanding, and each version is truly unique. The writing styles vary enormously too. I strongly recommend that you look at them side by side to prove that there's more than one way to skin a cat.  

Planting the Trees of Kenya was written and illustrated by Claire A. Nivola.


Wangari's Trees of Peace was written and illustrated by Jeanette Winter. 
And Mama Miti was written by Donna Jo Napoli and illustrated by Kadir Nelson.  
I'd bet anything that these folks didn't know they were creating books about the same person until all 3 versions were finally published....writing and illustrating books is a solo occupation if there ever was one. 

OK, that's it--though we could easily go on and on.  Here's hoping that if any kids examine a whole series of books on the same topic written and illustrated in such different ways, they can come up with some unique new versions of their own....and have some fun at the same time. 

Friday, March 7, 2014

INK Authors Making News

NEW BOOKS



Welcome to the World: A Keepsake Baby Book  by Marfé Ferguson Delano (National Geographic)





The Truth about Poop and Pee, by Susan E. Goodman (Penguin), a new edition that brings together two of her best-selling books.




A Home for Mr. Emerson, by Barbara Kerley (Scholastic)


APPEARANCES

Deborah Heiligman will be speaking at the Virginia Festival of the Book March 21-23

Anna Lewis, author of Women of Steel and Stone: 22 Inspiring Architects, Engineers, and Landscape Designers, will be speaking at the Bellefonte, PA Art Museum on March 22, which has installed a large Anna Keichline exhibit. 



AWARDS

The Animal Book: A Collection of the Fastest, Fiercest, Toughest, Cleverest, Shyest--and Most Surprising--Animals on Earth, written and illustrated by Steve Jenkins (HMH)
            • The Horn Book 2013 Fanfare List of the Best Books for Young People
            • NPR 2013 Great Reads
            • Book Links Top 30 Titles from 2013
            • Junior Library Guild Top 10 Books for Youth 2013
            • ALA Notable Book 2014

Who Says Women Can’t Be Doctors by Tanya Lee Stone (Henry Holt)
            • NPR Great Reads

The Boy Who Loved Math: The Improbable Life of Paul Erdos, by Deborah Heiligman. (Roaring Brook)
            • Orbis Pictus Honor Book
            Book Links Top 30 Titles from 2013

Eruption! Volcanoes and the Science of Saving Lives, by Elizabeth Rusch. (HMH)
            • Book Links Top 30 Titles from 2013

Courage Has No Color: The True Story of the Triple Nickles, America’s First Black Paratroopers, by Tanya Lee Stone. (Candlewick)
            • Book Links Top 30 Titles from 2013


The Nature Generation has announced the shortlist for its 2014 Green Earth Book Awards. The award honors authors whose books best convey the environmental stewardship message to youth.

Eat Like a Bear, by April Pulley Sayre, illustrated by Steve Jenkins (Henry Holt)

Here Come the Humpbacks, by April Pulley Sayre (Charlesbridge)

No Monkeys, No Chocolate, by Melissa Stewart and Allen Young (Charlesbridge)

A Place for Turtles, by Melissa Stewart (Peachtree Publishers)




Thursday, February 6, 2014

Something Entirely Different

Early last year, my editor asked if I would be interested in taking on a project very different from the narrative nonfiction books I've written. She asked if I would like to write the text for a baby book, a keepsake baby book, the kind in which parents can record the highlights of their baby's arrival and growth. But instead of being illustrated with the usual pastel drawings of bunnies, etc., this book would be filled with gorgeous photographs. The text needed to be lyrical and inspirational, with strong visual elements, she advised, and oh yes, it should also celebrate the natural world.

It was tall order! And it was unlike anything I'd done before. But it sounded like a great opportunity to stretch and challenge myself--not to mention earn some dough--so I took a deep breath and said yes to WELCOME TO THE WORLD: A KEEPSAKE BABY BOOK (National Geographic, March 4, 2014). I'm glad I did. Working on this book was a joy, from brainstorming with the editorial and design team, to looking through my own children's baby books and recalling their infancy and toddlerhood. I explored my feelings about motherhood and thought about my hopes and dreams for my children (now grown). I thought about my parents (both still going strong, I'm happy to say!) and my own childhood. I pondered the wonders of our world and tracked down--and verified--inspirational quotes to sprinkle through the book. Most gratifying, I discovered my poetic side as I crafted the text. 

My goal was to go beyond the traditional journal style of most baby books. I wanted to connect the birth and early days of a child's life to the beauty and wonders and possibilities of this amazing world we live in. I tried to do this with my text, but ultimately it's the stunning photographs--selected by Lori Epstein, a brilliant photo editor and very talented photographer in her own right--that really make this book special. The photos Lori selected not only delight the eye, they enhance and expand my words, creating layers of meaning I didn't even realize were there until I saw the pictures and words together. Some of them make me laugh out loud. Some bring tears to my eyes. It took a team of us to create and give birth to WELCOME TO THE WORLD. I can't wait to see how it fares.


Thursday, December 5, 2013

Ask a Slave

One of the great pleasures of researching a book can be the people you meet along the way. I met Azie Dungey a few years ago, when I was doing research at Mount Vernon, George Washington's Virginia plantation. At the time, Azie was working as a "living history character" on the estate. Azie played a slave. She interpreted the role of Caroline, an enslaved woman who worked as a housemaid for George and Martha Washington. In this role, Azie talked to hundreds of people a day about what it was like to be black in 18th-century America.

Azie Mira Dungey
After she left Mount Vernon, Azie looked for "a way to present all of the most interesting, and somewhat infuriating encounters that I had, the feelings that they brought up, and the questions that they left unanswered." The result is her hit comedy web series "Ask a Slave." 

In "Ask a Slave," Azie plays Lizzie Mae, a fictional housemaid to the Washingtons. Her deadpan delivery is hilarious, but the series addresses serious issues about race and gender and power--and historical ignorance.

If you haven't seen "Ask a Slave," check it out! I'll make it easy for you. Here's the first episode, "Meet Lizzie Mae." Teachers, you'll want to preview the series before sharing it with students. Some of the later episodes get a little raw. But I'm betting most high-schoolers will dig this edgy satire, and it might just nudge them to think a little deeper about our country's history. Way to go, Azie!

Friday, October 11, 2013

Pairing Fiction and Nonfiction: A Common Core Pleasure

It may seem strange to start a post for a nonfiction blog this way, but I confess that when I read for pleasure, I usually choose fiction. One of my very favorite things in the whole world is curling up with a good novel. So as I was exploring the Common Core website in hopes of finding an idea for this post, I latched onto the ninth "anchor reading standard." It calls for students to analyze how two or more texts address similar themes or topics. Asking students to compare and contrast different texts or genres (fiction and nonfiction, for example) is not a new idea, of course. But it gave me the perfect excuse to assign myself a work of historical fiction I’ve been meaning to read for a while, Chains by Laurie Halse Anderson.

If only all assignments were this gratifying! Chains is a gripping, fascinating story, and even if I had been totally unfamiliar with the subject matter I still could not have put it down. But my appreciation and understanding of the novel were deepened by my familiarity with some of the subjects Anderson explores: the day-to-day lives of enslaved African Americans in the 18th century, the destructive relationship between slave owner and slave, and the irony of waging a war based on the revolutionary ideals of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” at the same time people were being bought and sold. They are topics I address in my nonfiction book, Master George’s People.

Because historical records document that a great many of George Washington’s slaves ran away, I could confidently claim in Master George that Washington’s “people,” as he called them, “yearned to live their lives as free men and women.” Unfortunately, however, these people left no written accounts that we know of. Very few of them could read or write. So without evidence to back it up, I couldn't say how any of these men and women personally felt about being enslaved. Novelists, thankfully, are free to let their imaginations and their pens roam beyond the historical record. In Chains, Anderson's fictional heroine, Isabel, tells us just how it feels to suffer the indignities of slavery, to ache for freedom. And because Anderson makes us care about Isabel, we suffer and ache—and hope and rebel—with her.

Another wonderful historical novel I recommend pairing with Master George’s People is Jefferson’s Sons: A Founding Father’s Secret Children by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley. This moving, impeccably researched book explores what live was like for the enslaved people owned—and fathered—by the author of the Declaration of Independence. Like Chains—and, I hope, Master George—it raises fundamental questions about equality and freedom and the contradictions inherent in our nation's founding.

In a recent column in the Huffington Post, Vicki Cobb said that the Common Core standards are not in our books, but in the way our books are used. Pairing narrative nonfiction with top-notch historical fiction is an excellent way to use both. For more suggestions on matching fiction with nonfiction in middle grade classrooms, check out this Nerdy Book Club blog post by Susan Dee. What are your favorite fiction/nonfiction pairings? I hope you'll leave a comment and let me know. I’d love to include them in a future post.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

It's All About "Me"

Why have so many people stopped using "me" after prepositions? Instead they say, "This is just right for you and I," or "Ted went to the game with Tony and I." Friends do it, family members do it, TV news anchors do it, I've even heard an NPR reporter do it. OK, she was reporting from a battleground, so I'll cut her a break for stress, but still...

What's wrong with "me?" Could it be that some "I" misusers think "me" sounds babyish? "Me want cookies now!" Or maybe "I" seems more educated, more elegant, more formal than "me." "Me" certainly feels more sensual in the mouth. You have to press your lips together to produce the "m" sound, the vibration that begins a moan or a moo. "I" is unsullied by such an earthy consonant.

I bet the "I" crowd never had to memorize the 48 prepositions in alphabetical order and be ready for a pop quiz on them every single week, as I was required to do in 8th grade English. If they had, they'd think twice before using a subjective pronoun after a preposition.


But I'm guessing the main reason so many people say "for you and I" instead of "for you and me" is because the usage has become so common. You hear it all the time. My theory--which is probably not original although I can't recall reading about it before--is that Jim Morrison and The Doors share the blame for this. In 1968, they released a single called "Touch Me" that reached #3 on Billboard Hot 100 and has been playing on oldies stations every since. You must have heard it. Here's the refrain:

I'm gonna love you
Till the heavens stop the rain
I'm gonna love you
Till the stars fall from the sky for you and I.

The rhythm slows for the first three lines, which are sung gently, sweetly. Then the tempo starts to pick up and at the crescendo Morrison punches out "FOR YOU AND I!" Yeah, yeah, I know Morrison did it for the rhyme and that there are no grammar rules in rock and roll. And I think it's a great song. I'm just fascinated by the power of music, and by the idea that maybe the emphatic "FOR YOU AND I," heard over and over again on oldies stations, became so embedded in our brains that the usage spread like a virus. Personally, I hope we find a cure for this virus. I think the cure might have to do with memorizing prepositions and diagramming sentences.

What does this have to do with nonfiction for kids? For one thing, it reminds me of something Jim Murphy discussed in one of his INK posts. Faulty "facts"--like faulty grammar--can take hold through sheer repetition.

As for the poor old pronoun "me," I can't feel too sorry for it, since it appears to have usurped "I" as a subject. Me and my kids can tell you all about it.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Keeping the Faith


When you're working on a biography, what can you do when facts are sparse about an aspect or a period of your subject’s life? Deborah Heiligman, Susan Kuklin, and I hoped for some answers to this question when we attended a panel called "Dealing with Black Holes in Your Narrative" at the Compleat Biographer’s Conference a few weeks ago in New York. Deb shared some helpful nuggets from this panel in her latest INK column. (Thanks, Deb!)

I keep thinking about what one of the panelists, an award-winning and esteemed biographer, said he won’t do in such a case. He won’t speculate on what someone was thinking or feeling or doing. He eschews phrases such as “may have” or “could have” or “must have felt.” He abstains from “perhaps” and “maybe.” He believes these expressions can reduce a book’s credibility and energy level.

An audience member asked this panelist whether he thought it was ever OK to use them. Surely the spare, occasional use of "she may have thought..." or "perhaps he felt..."—set against a background of facts, of course—was acceptable? she asked hopefully. No, never, not to him. He replied that even this can undermine a reader's faith in a book. Panelist 2 agreed with him. Case closed.

Except that it wasn't. Panelist 3, who is also an award-winning and esteemed biographer, eventually piped up. She pointed out that a writer is, after all, an interpreter of a subject’s life. As long as the facts are firm, she said, then in her view it’s fine for the biographer to wonder occasionally about a person's feelings or thoughts. You can present the evidence you have, she said, and leave it as a question.

Several audience members nodded in agreement with her. I was one of them. But I recently saw a reader review of Master George's People on amazon.com that made me reexamine my position. The reviewer faulted the book for what she called "no-source opinion statements, like 'the enslaved people no doubt saw the matter differently' and 'they felt.'" I know for sure what I felt when I read this criticism, and it was a brief moment of panic. Panelist number 1's words echoed in my head. My word choice had undermined at least one reader's faith in my book.

But then I reminded myself that I would not have taken an unfounded, no-source leap. I grabbed the book and turned to the example the reviewer quoted. It's from chapter 4, "Resistance and Control." Here's the complete paragraph:

     Most of all Washington deplored the "spirit of thieving and housebreaking...among my people." He believed he fed, clothed, and housed his "people" as well as or better than any other slave owner in the region. As far as he was concerned, they were entitled to nothing more. From the slaves' point of view, however, what they were given by their master was totally inadequate. So they took it upon themselves to make up the difference. Meat disappeared from the meat house and corn vanished from the corn loft, as did cherries from the orchards and nails from construction sites. "I cannot conceive how it is possible that 6000 twelve penny nails could be used in the corn house at River Plantation," Washington fumed. To him, these were acts of theft, pure and simple. Mount Vernon's enslaved people no doubt saw the matter differently. They felt they had earned a share of the goods their labor had produced."

I went back to my annotated copy of the manuscript to check my source notes. To my surprise, the paragraph ended with "...Washington fumed." The last 3 sentences weren't there. Then I realized I must have added them later, at the suggestion of one of the two historians who vetted the manuscript for me. (One is a research historian at Mount Vernon who specializes in slave life, the other, a university professor, is a leading authority on African American colonial history.) I searched through my correspondence, and sure enough, I came across a note from one of them saying that I needed to add something about how the slaves felt about helping themselves to the fruits of their labor. Leaving the last word with Washington left the story one-sided. The other historian agreed.

As far as we know, Washington's slaves left no written accounts. Very few of them could read or write. So it's true that we can't know exactly how they felt about their activities. But there are primary sources revealing how enslaved African Americans on other plantations viewed taking things, food in particular, from their owner, and a common theme was that "the result of labor belongs of right to the laborer."

My framework of facts was firm, so I feel very comfortable with my decision to suggest how Washington's slaves would have felt about snatching chickens or sneaking cherries, to indicate that these activities did not compromise their moral code. Indeed, I think I would have been negligent not to have done so, unfaithful to those whose story I'm telling.

Should biographers absolutely stay away from speculating about a subject's thoughts and feelings? Or is it acceptable to suggest occasionally how a subject might have felt or thought, as long as this is set against a strong background of facts? I'd love to know what other writers and readers think about this.

Thursday, May 23, 2013

The Voices Made Me Do It


Last week I had the good fortune to be on the panel that Deborah Heiligman wrote about Tuesday. Preplanning conversations and postmortem drinks at the very literary Algonquin Hotel gave Deb, Marfe’ Ferguson Delano, and me plenty of time to talk about the writing process. These conversations got me thinking about “voice.” Finding the right voice for a nonfiction book fits somewhere in the scheme of things between the research and final draft.
            You know how writers of fiction and deranged people – that may be an oxymoron – say, “It’s the voices … it’s the voices that made me do it?” That makes perfect sense to me. My books, primarily based on interviews with young people, absolutely must be true to the people featured. So after an interview, I transcribe and replay their tapes over and over again as a way to get their voices into my ears. My journey to understanding “voice” in writing began as an act of embarrassment and humility.

My Confession:
Once upon a time, long, long ago, after photographing four children’s books, I decided to try my hand at writing as well as illustrating. My first, full book contract was about a thirteen-year-old foster boy who spent a year socializing and loving a puppy that would later become a guide dog for the blind. What made the boy unusual was that he himself was slowly going blind. The book was called Mine for a Year.

After the usual gazillion drafts, the manuscript was ready to meet its editor. At that time I knew very few children’s authors and needed a critical read. A magazine editor-cum-good friend, a brilliant writer himself, said he’d take a look at it. Before he could change his mind I was sitting in his office with my beautiful, perfect, gorgeously written first book. He turned to the first page. “WHAT IS THIS CRAP?” He didn’t say crap. “I’m not going to read this! There’s nothing happening here. There’s no voice! It’s not you. It’s not the kid.” I grabbed the pages and flew out of the office. I was devastated, furious, and very embarrassed.

Once home I spent weeks trying to figure out how to make this boy read real. What could I do differently? Why didn’t the photographs alone create the boy’s character? And what is this thing called “voice” anyway? A week or so later an Aha moment arrived. Since it was the boy’s story, why not let him tell it?

I rewrote everything in the first person, and interviewed the boy again to add material and to make sure what was written matched the way he spoke. We collaborated. We made changes together.
After more than a few drafts, it was back to the mag editor for round two. With one eyebrow raised - he never once looked up - he opened to the first page, and read it. Think long, horrible pregnant pause here. “Okay, now you have voice. Now I want to read this.” For the most part, I’ve been writing in first person ever since.

A number of INK writers have said how hard it is to come up with a topic each month. I for one would love to know how you treat voice in your books.



Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Compleat Biographer Conference, A Report: Sphinxes, Secrets, Virgin Eyes

This past Saturday, Susan Kuklin, Marfé Ferguson Delano and I were on a panel at the Compleat Biographers Conference here in New York City. Tanya Lee Stone was supposed to be with us, but unfortunately could not come. (We missed you, Tanya!) Thanks to Gretchen Woelfle for telling us about the call for YA biography writers.  This organization is relatively new (2010) but I think they have a good thing going. 

We had a fun time planning the panel Friday night over a lovely meal and a bottle of wine. We sat next to a man with very strange facial hair, just a line from his lower lip down his chin. Not a soul patch, more like a soul line. (That was a detail you needed, right?). 

Anyway, we decided that the best kind of panel is a conversation, not just talking heads. So we didn't over-plan--we wanted the conversation to be real, and it was. Marfé was the designated moderator, and she did a terrific job.  And it is always fascinating to listen to how Susan does her work. (There was an collective gasp in the room when she talked about interviewing a young man who had been on death row since he was a kid.) People asked really good questions. One question was, naturally, is writing a biography for kids different from writing one for adults, and if so, how? And our answers were—it isn’t different, it is different, and in the end I think we agreed that all writing is about choices and some of the choices we make when we write for kids we make because we are writing for kids—and for their gatekeepers.  But other than that, it isn't different at all. (Marfé wisely had started our session with an anecdote about someone saying she was sure writing for kids was easier than writing for adults. We dispelled that notion immediately.) 

There was one high school teacher in the audience and I found myself looking to her often for agreement, nods, approval. Do those of you who speak to audiences do that? Find one or two people you look at to gauge how you're doing? (It's much better, by the way, if you focus on the happy, nodding people rather than the bored, angry-looking, or sleeping people--if you have any of those. We didn't. But I've learned that nice little lesson over the years...) 

Happily, there was also another YA author in the room, Catherine Reef. Marfé had been on a panel with her at this conference in D.C. two years ago, and asked her to chime in. Catherine did, and she really added to our discussion! 

I left our panel feeling inspired and renewed, which is always a good thing. I left the conference, also, with nuggets of knowledge and inspiration, and I will share those I remember with you. Maybe Marfé and Susan will remember more... 

Nuggets:

*Will Swift presented the BIO AWARD to Ron Chernow. In his introduction Swift told that audience that we should all read the prologue to Chernow’s Washington book. I did and it's terrific. It's about Gilbert Stuart painting Washington's portrait, and is really an essay about writing biography, about how we try to capture real people, not just their likenesses.  I recommend it to you, too. (And now I really want to read the whole book.) 

*Swift said that Chernow is a master at shedding light on things that their characters are trying to hide from themselves.

*Interestingly, soon after Chernow himself said, in his speech, that writing a biography is an act of intellectual presumption!

*Chernow said truth will emerge in subtle ways even if the people we are writing about are evasive. So many of our subjects are sphinxes.  He said that he realized with the help of his late wife that Rockefeller was revealing who he was by trying to conceal.

*He also said, and I loved this especially, that when you are writing a biography you need to find the balance between writing the character from the inside out and from the outside in.

*In working on George Washington, the more Chernow read, the less familiar Washington seemed. There were dimensions of his life and personality (his meanness, his temper, his sensitivity) that previous biographers overlooked. Chernow decided that the 5% who knew him were more reliable than 95% who didn’t.

*He said he learned he had to look at Washington with virgin eyes.

After lunch we went to a panel about how to deal with black holes when writing a biography. It started out promising when the moderator said that you can have black holes in research, in periods of a person’s life, or in the understanding of our character. In secrets. Yes! Tell us how to deal with them, please! They didn't give us many answers, sadly.. but here are a few nuggets:

*When you read someone’s memoir or autobiography you have be suspicious and ask yourself what was the reason they were writing their autobiography or memoir. Look for what is not said.

*Mythologies make you want to find the real story.

*If there are people still living who knew the person you're writing about, go talk to them. You want the gossip. (Chernow's 5% or, if you're lucky, more.) 

*Writing a biography is really a group project—you are assembling all the voices of those who will help you.

*If there’s something important you don’t know, that’s part of the story. 

Maybe it was the lights going off and on in that room, or the daunting feeling of the black hole, but we three decided to leave the conference right after that panel. Somehow within fifteen minutes we found ourselves at The Algonquin Hotel, at a round table, having drinks. 

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Sticking to It

 
“Negative results are just what I want. They’re just as valuable to me as positive results. I can never find the thing that does the job best until I find the ones that don’t do.”

I often share these words from Thomas Alva Edison when I visit schools to talk with kids about researching and writing nonfiction. I started doing this about a year ago, when I was asked to do a presentation on my biography of Edison, Inventing the Future. As I reread the book to prepare my talk, I was struck anew by the inventor’s persistence, his doggedness, his stick-to-it-iveness-—the same qualities we need to be good writers.

As I tell students, I usually have to try lots of approaches that don’t work before I find the one that does, try lots of words that aren’t quite right before I find the ones that are. (And by the way, I test-drove and rejected about 5 other topics for this blog before deciding this one worked for me today.)

It would be nice to have sudden strokes of brilliance, but for most of us good writing comes down to working hard. As Tom Edison liked to say, “Sticking to it is the genius.” This attitude helped him earn 1,093 patents for his inventions (a record that stood until 2003, the year after Inventing the Future was published). In his quest to invent a practical long-burning light bulb, he sketched hundreds of different designs and tested more than 1,600 different materials, including the hair from his assistant’s beard.

“Every wrong attempt discarded,” Edison said, “is another step forward.” Yet another maxim for writers to keep in mind as we embark on yet another draft.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Embracing--and Seeking--Structure


A confession:  As a writer, I love it when the structure of a project is predetermined. I'm happiest when given a format, word counts, what Deb Heiligman called "restrictions" in her terrific INK column last week. Perhaps it has to do with cutting my teeth as a nonfiction writer at Time-Life Books, back in the pre-Google days. Each volume of those fabulous series, on subjects ranging from The Civil War to The Seafarers to Mysteries of the Unknown, was thoroughly mapped out by a team of editors, researchers, photo editors, and art directors before the other staff writers and I received our assignments for it. The layout was pretty much set in concrete, and our job was to write copy to fit. Heck, we didn’t even do our own research. There was a separate research staff for that. They gave us thick packets of photocopied material, with relevant sections already highlighted. If I needed more information for a photo essay or a picture caption, I asked the researcher assigned to the piece to see what else he/she could find. It was actually a pretty efficient system, and the discipline and deadlines it imposed were great training. I still take pride in the excellent quality of the books this team approach created. But I have to say I was jealous of the researchers, who got to hang out in the Library of Congress and other cool places while we writers stayed put at the office. I felt like I was missing something, the thrill of the hunt perhaps.

After I left Time-Life to freelance, I was hired to write several books—including one called Wildflowers—for a children’s nonfiction series called My First Pocket Guide. Now it was up to me to do the research, and I took to it like a fish to water. The books had a fairly rigid format. Each book was to be 80 pages long and feature about 35 specimens. There was one specimen per spread, and each spread had to include a 2- to 3-sentence introductory text block, a “Where to Find” map box, a “What to Look For” box listing size, color, behavior, and “more,” and a Field Note containing a fun fact about the specimen. Each spread also had to include a line drawing of the specimen, a full-color photograph of it, and an illustration linked to the fun fact. Although I had to stick to the format, it was up to me to decide which animals or bugs or wildflowers to include in the book and how to organize them. I had to create structure within the existing framework. (It occurs to me, by the way, that creating a similar book could be a fun classroom writing activity. Each student could research one specimen and then create a page for it using this format. The students could present their finished pages to their classmates, and all the pages could be bound into a book.)

My newest book, Master George’s People, took me a long time to write, in part because I struggled with structure for so long. Other than a word count, I had no restrictions to help me out, no comforting format to follow. I only knew that I wanted to tell two stories in the book—the story of what life was like for George Washington’s slaves and the story of how Washington’s attitude toward slavery changed over his lifetime. I had to fight against letting Washington’s story overshadow the other. I finally found my way in by returning to (this won’t surprise many of you) the primary source material. Once I identified a pivotal scene for an opener—that of slave children playing in Washington’s boxwood garden—the rest of the structure seemed to spin out more or less logically, although I can't say the process went smoothly.

Although I’m pleased with the final result, I can’t help feeling that I approached the issue of structure backwards in this case, making things harder for myself than they had to be. Next book, maybe even while I'm still researching it, I’m going to try tackling structure first. Maybe I'll sketch a diagram or "a looping doodle with guiding arrows and stick figures," a strategy discussed by John McPhee in his recent New Yorker article about structure. The idea, he writes, is to "build some form of blueprint before working it out in sentences and paragraphs." A blueprint, that's kind of like a format. And did I mention that I'm very comfortable with formats?