Pioneers of Nonfiction: Ruth Heller

Pioneers of Nonfiction: Ruth Heller

Okay, I admit it. I was going to write about Dorothy Hinshaw Patent for this piece, but then saw that Dorothy was a guest blogger here. Instead, I wanted to bring up a writer and artist I admit to knowing very little about: Ruth Heller. Ruth died in 2004, so I never got to know her. Shortly before her death, I was signing at a table near where she was also signing, but she looked very tired and I didn’t want to bother her by introducing myself. I’m sorry I didn’t barge in after all, because I would have liked to tell her how inspiring her work has been to me.

The first book I picked up of hers was Plants That Never Ever Bloom, one of her “World of Nature” series that explored overlooked aspects of the natural world. Ruth was foremost an artist, having earned a Fine Arts degree at my alma mater, Berkeley. Yet, flipping through her book, I enjoyed her nonfiction rhyming text. I was even more impressed that she had bothered to write about fungi. What a cool topic! And, of course, her illustrations just popped out at me. Soon afterward, I read her book Chickens Aren’t the Only Ones, about all manner of egg-laying animals. Her choices of topics encouraged me to pursue less mainstream topics—those that kids should be able to learn about, but have not yet reached the publishing radar.

Ruth’s contributions did not stop with nature, however. She is perhaps better known for her “World of Language” series, which explored nouns, verbs, adjectives, and other parts of speech in fun, colorful ways. I believe teachers widely use these books today. She also published a number of wonderful coloring books.

According to Wikipedia, Ruth didn’t sell her first trade book until she was well into her sixties, and I am sad her career couldn’t continue through a longer arc. Still, I am grateful she dived into children’s publishing at all, because I think she helped set high standards of quality, content, and beauty for all of nonfiction writers who work today. I’d also love to hear from anyone who knew more about her, because hers is a memory we should continue to keep alive. And now, I think I’ll read Plants That Never Ever Bloom to my 19-month old!

Pioneers of Children's Nonfiction: Laurence Pringle

When I’m out doing school visits or speaking at a conference, I often have people say something like “We’re glad to find you because it’s so hard to find good nonfiction for children.” At this point I try, as gently as possible, to point out that there actually is a lot of great nonfiction for children, and has been for a long time. The problem, I share, is that bookstore chains hardly carry any of it. Instead, they prefer to stock crap with appealing covers or mass-market series that do not require any kind of effort or knowledge to order. Then, (if the person or persons are still listening) I reel off names of a few of my favorite nonfiction authors and what they write about. Especially for those new to nonfiction, I thought it would be fun here to explore some of the great pioneers of nonfiction, especially science books.

First on my list is Laurence Pringle. I first met Larry when I participated in the Highlights Writers Workshop at Chautauqua back in 1988. Before the workshop, I admit I had never heard of Larry. But doing some research before flying to New York, I got very excited. Here, I discovered, was a writer working on just the kinds of books I was interested in—and thought needed to be written.

Like me, Larry studied nature as a child and in college. Later, while working as an editor of a science magazine, he decided to try writing a book about one of the Favorite Nonfiction Topics of All-Time: dinosaurs. 107 books later, he is still writing engaging, high-interest books that excite and educate children about their world. His work covers remarkable breadth, from animals and plants to probing looks at environmental and health issues. He has even written several fictional picture books.

At Chautauqua, Larry gave me guidance in his low-key, honest fashion. But his work has also inspired me from the beginning of my career. One thing I am known for is writing about scientists and their work. My book Monteverde: Science and Scientists in a Costa Rican Cloud Forest, followed scientists around in Costa Rica and shared not only their knowledge, but their adventure and personal experiences. While many considered the book a breakthrough in its approach, that was only partly true. Several years before, Larry had written one of my favorite children’s books: Batman: Exploring the World of Bats. That book did something few, if any, other children’s books had done. It shared science through the eyes and personal history of an actual scientist. Monteverde, and Houghton Mifflin’s successful Scientists in the Field series are built upon Larry’s earlier, groundbreaking efforts.

Throughout his career, Larry has led similar breakthroughs in children’s writing. His award-winning book An Extraordinary Life: The Story of a Monarch Butterfly traced the complete life-history of a monarch butterfly, told from the insect’s point of view. The book is not only a wonderful factual reference, it’s a model for how voice can be used to write compelling nonfiction literature. In his younger picture books, Larry writes in a simple, lucid style that never talks down to children, but always interests them. His “Strange and Wonderful” series offers a great example.

One reason Larry is at the top of my list, however, is that he also tackles tough topics: books we all know are not going to make us a fortune, but which need to be available for young readers. Long before Gore’s inconvenient truth, Larry wrote Global Warming: The Threat of Earth’s Changing Climate, a book that clearly and undogmatically gave young people the information they needed to know about this threatening issue. He’s written other books about drinking, smoking, chemical warfare—you name it.

Not long ago, Larry sent me his newest book, Imagine a Dragon. I sat down with my five year-old son and eagerly cracked the spine. Reading it aloud, I marveled at how little I’d known about these mythological creatures, and once again appreciated Larry’s simple style and comfortable voice. Even more, I appreciated the quiet, steady contribution Larry still makes not only to children’s literature, but to the health and future of our planet.

The Nonfiction Author-Illustrator Relationship

It’s an exciting day. I’m getting ready to leave for the International Reading Association conference in Atlanta. Even more exciting, I just learned that two pieces of art from my new book WINGS (Charlesbridge), are winging their way to my home. This is only the second time I’ve been able to buy original art from one of my books, and these pieces are particularly stunning. Robin Brickman has been my favorite artist I’ve worked with. Her dazzling 3-dimensional cut-paper collages just pop off of the page, eliciting oohs and ahs from everyone who sees them. Thinking about the many talented artists who have illustrated my books, however, I thought it might be interesting to share something about the nonfiction author-illustrator relationship.

Not long ago if someone had asked me about this relationship, I would have answered, “It’s simple. The author and illustrator don’t have a relationship.” After all, authors and artists rarely meet each other and almost never have direct correspondence with each other during a project. For a variety of reasons—some valid, some silly—publishers like to keep authors and artists apart. Our titanic egos probably have something to do with it! Still, I’ve found that in nonfiction, I do get the opportunity to interact with artists more than a typical fiction author might.

One reason for that is because nonfiction art not only has to be beautiful, it has to be accurate. I often get to see art at the sketch stage as well as once or twice in the final stages. This is critical in catching mistakes or misinterpretations. As editors have learned that I’m not going to be a complete jerk to my artist colleagues, however, I’ve also had a few chances to correspond directly with them during a project. Recently, for instance, I and Andrew Plant, who illustrated my new book REIGN OF THE SEA DRAGONS (Charlesbridge Publishing), got to trade some information about giant ancient marine reptiles. This was helpful to both of us and helped to clarify some information in the book.

Robin Brickman and I have also swapped info a number of times. One reason she is my favorite artist to work with is we’ve had a chance to do three books together. I just have fun talking to her and seeing what amazing things she’s going to come up with next. She is also one of only three artists I’ve gotten to present with at a conference. I hope we get to do this again.

Not long ago, another one of “my” artists, Joanna Yardley, who lives here in Montana, took an especially daring step. She decided to include me in part of the fun of the artistic process. While working on our book SHEP—OUR MOST LOYAL DOG (Sleeping Bear Press), she called me up and said, “Sneed, I need a model.” I went over with my dog Mattie and we got to pose for the illustrations of Shep with his master. Of course, my character ends up dead in that book, but I try not to take that too personally!

Artists have extended me other kindnesses as well. When my book ANIMALS ASLEEP (Houghton Mifflin) came out, the artist, Anik McGrory, made up a little board-book version of the book to send. The timing was perfect as my son Braden had just been born. It was one of the most touching experiences I’ve had in my career.

All of this aside, authors and artists do not interact much. Of the fifteen or so artists I’ve worked with, I’ve probably only met about half of them, and usually briefly. Although I understand why editors like to keep us apart, part of me feels sad about that. It’s not a situation that’s likely to change, however. Meanwhile, I try to appreciate the interactions we do have—and look forward to having many, many talented people work on my future books.

Nonfiction and Nonfiction Authors in Schools

Nonfiction and Nonfiction Authors in Schools

School visits play an indispensable role in the lives of many professional authors. I began doing school visits when my first book came out fifteen years ago and, honestly, I wouldn’t have a career without the many schools around the country that value bringing in authors every year. When I began doing visits, however, I was one of the few nonfiction authors active on the circuit. Not surprising. Schools viewed nonfiction as an aberration or specialty, to be featured as something different from their usual fiction fare.

For many schools, this is still true today. Especially in the past four or five years, however, I’ve seen a wonderful evolution in attitudes toward nonfiction. Teachers and librarians are beginning to recognize that nonfiction is not a special case of literature—it is the main case. After all, what are kids going to spend most of their lives reading and writing? Nonfiction, of course, whether it is in the form newspapers, company reports, business letters, or email messages. Thanks to the dedicated efforts of a few far-sighted university professors, librarians, and teachers, the message is starting to sink in. With ever-increasing frequency, I am meeting educators who are both passionate and knowledgeable about a huge variety of nonfiction books and authors.

To point out how the role of nonfiction is changing, I’d like to share my current experiences at schools in Buffalo, New York. Four schools got together to bring me in for a week, and I’ve been blown away by the preparation of librarians, teachers, and students. Every single school has “done” its author visit right. What do I mean? Well, many schools raise money to bring in an author and then use her/him for entertainment. Sure, the actual visit goes fine, but that’s the end of it. Smart schools, however, use their author to springboard into extensive learning before and after the visit.

At these Buffalo schools, librarians got my books months ahead of time. The teachers grabbed them up and began developing all kinds of projects around them: poetry, art, music, essays, book-writing. In one of my favorite projects, a teacher went to the local grocery and got it to donate about twenty-five plastic cake boxes. The kids turned each cake box into an aquarium mirroring an ecosystem from my book Our Wet World or other aquatic titles. The kids made little reproductions of fish, jellies, algae, and other organisms and set them up inside. Then, they wrote detailed descriptions of each ecosystem and its organisms.

One of my favorite projects was when kids wrote reviews of my books. A humbling experience—but also extremely clever. These teachers used books to get their kids to think critically and write their own nonfiction. One class even commandeered an empty closet and created a whole deep-sea world complete with bioluminescent organisms! All of these projects proved that I was only a spark for learning—which is exactly what my role should be. The main show was the kids and teachers themselves, and I left each school satisfied that enthusiastic learning about science will continue long after I am gone.
I hope that other teachers and librarians who bring in authors take note. For an author visit to be worthwhile, the entire school needs to be engaged through the entire planning process. I find that author visits which most often fail are those planned by principals or outside groups. In these visits, the teachers and librarians are not invested in the visit and it shows by the dearth of preparation. Whenever I visit a school like this, I think “They should have spent this money on books for the library.” Fortunately, many schools do plan ahead. For those who don’t, I hope my Buffalo experiences might demonstrate how to get more bang for your author buck. Perhaps some other authors on the blog could share some of their favorite “author exercises” they’ve observed in schools?

More on "List Books"

Just home for a few minutes (okay, hours, if you must know the truth) between school trips, and read Padma’s almost embarrassingly kind post about my book Beaks! (Thank you Padma!) It got me wondering, though, if I had anything more to share about creating these kinds of books. “List” books—those which basically include collections of items—are very popular, and appear in almost all subject matters from history to biography to science. My first list book, Animal Dads (illustrated by Steve Jenkins), did so well that I immediately bent my mind to other subjects that might fit into the list format. The question here, though, is how does one create these books?

As always, the first step is research. Go learn everything you can about a subject. For a book like Teeth (illustrated by Phyllis V. Saroff), for instance, I’ll start with some animal encyclopedias, then grab some comprehensive books on different animals groups, then dive into scientific journals, which often have the most interesting facts about animals. I don’t try to write anything immediately, just let all this information percolate through my brain.

My second step is to make a list. What’s important is that I’m not listing specific animals at this point. Instead, I am asking myself “How many different ways do (fill in subject) function? For teeth, do they grind? Do they munch? How many can an animal have? What do teeth do for an animal besides eating? I write all of these things down in one column. Then, in the column next to it, I begin filling in species or examples that fit the bill. Usually, I end up with several examples that satisfy any one requirement. This is nice since it allows a greater overall variety of subjects.

Once I’ve got my list, then I work on my main text. I try to group common elements in my list together. For Teeth, these groups include teeth types, numbers, display uses, unusual teeth (such as tusks), and so forth. This is probably the most critical stage of the project, because I have to make the writing come alive, using both halves of my brain. The text not only has to flow, it has to have surprises in sentence structure and word choice. For instance…

Teeth slice.
Teeth stab.
Teeth crack.
And they grind, mash, and munch.
Teeth can be very different.
Or all the same.
Teeth can be small.
Or very large.
Tusks are teeth.
So are fangs.
Antlers and horns are not teeth—but you probably knew that already.

And so forth. Really, what I’m creating here is a poem, hopefully with a voice that draws in the reader. Now doing this can take some work. I’ll bet I went through twenty versions of Animal Dads before I hit just the right style and voice I was looking for. When you’ve got it, though, you’ll know.

So far, I’ve published about eight list-type books, but the list approach isn’t just for professional writers. Once Animal Dads came out, schools I visited began presenting me with all kinds of their own list books that students had created. Taking a topic—almost any topic—and writing a list book proves a great way to get kids interested in a subject and in writing. A typical list book has about twenty entries—just about the size of a typical classroom. By giving one aspect of a subject to each student, teachers offer them a bite he or she can handle without being overwhelmed. Then, when the kids put their book together (often creating art at the same time), they can all learn together in a way that is fun and fascinating.

A beak for science

 

What makes a nonfiction picture book come to life?

I've been wondering about that for a while. One thing I do know (or think I know) is this: simplicity works.

Take, for instance, one of my favorite nonfiction picture books of all time.

"Birds have no teeth. No hands. No antlers, horns or spines. But birds have beaks. And beaks are enough." Thus begins Sneed B. Collard III's fascinating book "Beaks!" illustrated by Robin Brickman and published by Charlesbridge. It goes on to describe some of the fascinating uses of beaks, and shows why birds need no teeth, hands, antlers, horns or spines to do all that they need to.

Sneed has also written other books along the same lines – "teeth" and "wings". They are all "just" lists. But what wonderful lists they are.

Lists, which can so easily deteriorate into boring repetition in the hands of a less remarkable writer, are transformed into incredibly interesting work in his hands. You want to turn the pages and find out more, more, more.

Why? Because his prose is evocative, clear, and crisp.

Because each book is packed with wonderful information. They are like mini-encyclopedias in that they contain an amazing trove of knowledge; but the way the information is presented is anything but encyclopedic.

And because the illustrations are superb – scientifically accurate eye-candy.

Those are three reasons that I can think of that make the books as wonderful as they are. But surely, there are other reasons, too.

For those of you who might already be planning ahead for father's day in June, here's an idea for an special father's day gift: "Animal Dads" – another elegant book and a wonderful "list" by Sneed B. Collard III.

Sneed B. Collard is not the only successful nonfiction children's book author to use the "list" format successfully, of course. Visit any bookstore or library and look at nonfiction picture books on scientific topics, and you'll see that many of them are lists.

As an oceanographer-turned author, my "training" was in science and mathematics. In those fields, we were always taught of the importance of a good question. So I'd like to throw out a question that I hope will be good enough to spur discussion: What transforms a nonfiction picture book written using the "list" form into a special, creative, exceptional and exciting work?

Local Stories

I visited my first school of 2008 yesterday. For my first school of the year, I always try to visit someplace local, in this case a K-8 school in a small logging town near where I live. The school was a delightful experience. The librarian had prepared the kids well and they asked wonderful questions after each presentation. The visit, though, also reminded me of a lesson I’ve learned rather late in my career—the value of local stories.

For most of my writing life, I’ve written about global and exotic topics, topics such as tropical rain forests, the problem of invasive species, animal adaptations, and more recently, famous historical figures. A few years ago, however, I landed the contract to write B is for Big Sky Country: A Montana Alphabet, my state’s entry in Sleeping Bear Press’s fifty-state series of alphabet books. My entry for the letter ‘S’ in that book led to a second book, Shep—Our Most Loyal Dog.

Shep is a true story of a working sheep dog that lived outside the town of Fort Benton, Montana in the 1930s. At one point, his master fell ill and died, and Shep watched as they loaded the coffin onto a train and shipped it back east for burial. For the next five and a half years, Shep met every passenger train that came into the Fort Benton station, waiting for his master to return. Along the way, Shep made new friends and became famous through newspaper and magazine articles published all around the world.

I felt very fortunate to have discovered Shep’s story—and that no one else had written a children’s picture book about him. What I didn’t realize with both B is for Big Sky Country and Shep, however, is what they would do for my career. Even with its local focus, B is for Big Sky Country has become my third bestselling book out of the fifty or so I’ve had published. Shep is off to a slightly slower start, except here in Montana, where it is by far my most popular title.

But the benefits of these local books are not limited to book sales. Their popularity immediately multiplied the number of school visits I get in and around Montana. Shep is up for the state’s readers choice award this year. Perhaps most importantly, I feel like I’ve made a contribution to the awareness and knowledge kids have about their state and its history and culture. Everywhere I go, the books stimulate lively conversations about peoples’ own histories and interests, and I like to think the books have been a catalyst for bringing people together in the state, even in small ways.

All of this points to a valuable lesson: don’t ignore local and regional topics in your writing. Even if the stories are published by smaller presses, a writer can reap significant benefits from them, both professionally and personally. I know I’ve got my ears and eyes wide open, looking for the next Montana story that heads my way.