A Love Letter

Dear Librarians of the World,

While having dinner with one of my best friends, who also happens to be a youth librarian, she asked me how my recent trip to ALA was. I knew she was waiting to see the f&g of my forthcoming Sandy’s Circus, so she was tenderly viewing those pages as she asked. I started to recall for her a few of my favorite moments from the conference. As I did, she pointed out with a gleeful grin that they all had to do with my appreciation of librarians.

“You love us,” she teased, sing-songing the words like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality.
“I do,” I admitted.

I suppose it was not too surprising that my focus honed in on the librarians, given the venue, but there were certainly other glamorous goings-on to compete with in the vicinity (Jon Scieszka in his smoking jacket, Brian Selznick and the Swarovski crystal shirt he made by hand, as well as his stunning Caldecott multi-media acceptance speech, and Mary Louise Parker and Laura San Giacomo in my hotel lobby). Not to mention spending time with editors and writer friends I rarely get to see. But it was the librarians who ruled the roost for me. Quite rightly.

Writing talks to give at meetings like ALA really gives writers a chance to process and reflect upon exactly how we do what we do. The presentation I gave that Monday morning was flush with anecdotes featuring librarian heroes and heroines swooping in to save the day—whether it was a passage one read to me from a book halfway across the country or a visual image scanned and emailed to fill a last-minute hole with a book already in production or a rare issue of an obscure periodical that held a quote that changed my perspective on a topic.

“It’s our job,” my friend said, still grinning with the knowledge that even though her words were technically accurate, they merely scratch the surface. It may be all in a day’s work, but what work it is. After all, librarians are already out there every day championing the field, putting the right books into the right readers’ hands, and caretaking the minds and hearts of young readers. And then some.

Now, the more jaded among us may feel I am simply sucking up to librarians. But I assure you I am of pure intent. Every day, in libraries all over the world, librarians not only help readers—they help writers write the best books we can. And I thank you, each and every one.

Love, Tanya Lee Stone

The Best Job in the World

I was planning to post about my new favorite picture book—Independent Dames by Laurie Halse Anderson—but Kelly Fineman beat me to it. And I must say: Well done, Kelly! Excellent post. Independent Dames is one of those must-own titles for lovers of American history, women’s history, and young readers everywhere! My kids and I have gone through it numerous times already, continually finding new and fascinating things to shout about.

So now I will share with you a dream moment in any nonfiction writer’s life (or so I’m assuming). Suffice it to say, it was a dream moment for me. And that I have the best job in the world.

Picture this: You have a new book out. There is a launch event planned at your local bookstore—which in this case happens to be the fabulous Flying Pig Bookstore, this year’s recipient of the Lucile Micheels Pannell Award, which celebrates bookstores “that excel at inspiring the interest of young people in books and reading.”

Everything is going swimmingly. You have a lovely crowd, including some local teachers who have been kind enough to come out and support you, some wonderful writers who have done the same, and a healthy number of kids. There are brownies and cookies and juice.

You are well prepared to share some interesting before and after images from the book, talk about writing and working with illustrators, and read your story to the kiddos. It has also been said how nice it was for Hilary Clinton to be so on top of things as to still be running for president during the first few weeks of your book’s debut, which is all about Elizabeth Cady Stanton and women’s right to vote.


So, I ask you, what could be better?

How about this: A gentleman and his wife approach you a few minutes before your event is to begin. They definitely look like they have something to say, and I definitely don’t know them. The man is looking at me with a small smile and a twinkle in his eye. The woman says: We heard about your book on the radio (further evidence of the Flying Pig’s Awesomeness!) and had to come. She motions to the man still quietly standing by her side. My husband here is...are you ready for it...Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s...wait for it...GREAT-GREAT GRANDSON.

Now picture me speechless. Hand to my heart. Jaw open.

Me: Seriously? You’re Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s great-great-grandson? Eloquent, no?

He gives me a kind smile, likely wondering how someone who claims to have a relationship with the English language could be so utterly at a loss for words.

Him: Yes, I am.

Me: How?…where?…wow! Nice going, writer-girl!

I do manage to then pull myself together and speak somewhat intelligently to him, saying what an honor it is to meet him and that I am so glad he came (at least I think that’s what I said). We are both tickled pink. Who knew? Meanwhile, Flying Pig co-owner Josie Leavitt beams and giggles mischievously. “I’ve been keeping this secret for a week!” (And I was even in the store buying a book from her two days earlier. Now that’s willpower.)

Ok, so now it’s time for the event to begin, and the pressure’s on, right? I had better make it good. Better know my stuff with Stanton’s family member sitting two feet in front of me. So I do my thing and when I get to an appropriate part of the presentation in which I talk about how the discoveries we make while researching and writing nonfiction continue all throughout the production process and even after the book is published, I look over at him, and say quietly “is it okay?” He nods. I share his identity with the rest of the crowd. They give him a whopping round of applause. There is much kvelling in the room.

Afterward, he approaches with a book for me to sign. I ask, “So, did I pass muster?” There are tears in his eyes. And then in mine.

Nonfiction. The adventure never ends.

Note: For anyone attending ALA, please join us on Monday, June 30, 8-10 am for a session called Research Fuels the Author’s Fire with Tanya Lee Stone, Carole Gorman, and Jacqueline Briggs Martin.

My Tune Has Changed: Writers and Photo Research

Back when I started publishing nonfiction (about 11 years ago), things in the photo acquisitions world were a bit different for me than they are today. I would write a book and include with it a photo “wish list” for the publisher. I would then wait for the layouts to arrive and weigh in with my opinions about those photos—are they placed near enough to the text they illustrate, are there enough images to help tell the story, is this one too small or that one too big—all fairly straightforward issues. The publishing team did the rest. I didn’t question it at the time; in fact, I felt pretty lucky that I had a team available to do this. So lucky that when I heard other writers complain that they had to do all the photo research themselves, I was known to climb up on my soapbox and point them in the direction of publishers who would not make the writer do the lion’s share of the work.

I have given said soapbox away.

Extenuating circumstances notwithstanding, I now guard my right to find and secure the photos I need to help me tell stories. Why, you may ask, the change of heart? Why would you want to add the many hours, nay weeks or months, of time into an already bursting schedule to play detective and track down image after image after image? The answer is simple.

Of everyone on the team involved with putting together a fabulous book—and we all know there are many invaluable players—there is only one person who can claim having come close to becoming an expert on a topic. That person is the writer. The one who has made it her business to learn everything there is about a subject and more (as Jennifer Armstrong’s post recently pointed out—we continue to care and learn about our topics long after our books hit the shelves).

I am the one who is equipped to do the extensive digging to find a source, an obscure credit, an event in someone’s life that may have been visually documented, a mention here, a hint there—all clues that lead me to discovering the best images I can possibly find. And believe me, the best ones are often the hardest to uncover and take the most persistence.

I now cherish this part of my job as a nonfiction writer. I look forward to the time in the production process when I can focus wholeheartedly on the images and study the notes I have made along the way. I call people, find out interesting histories in the process, meet family members with new perspectives. The act of searching for the images inevitably leads me to new information I am able to add to my story. It’s a thrill. A privilege.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not walking away from photo budgets or permissions counsel in the foreseeable future. Those necessary assists are also part of the team process. But the next time someone gripes about having to do their own photo research, my own experiences have changed my soapbox platform. Be the expert. Find the photos. Your subjects will thank you in the end.

To Quote or Not To Quote: Invented Dialogue

My goal this morning is to investigate what others think about one of my nonfiction pet peeves and hear your thoughts on the matter. This past weekend I co-taught a two-part workshop called Noteworthy Nonfiction with Charlesbridge editor Yolanda LeRoy. One of the issues that came up was invented dialogue. I happen to feel strongly that invented dialogue—by which I mean conversations based on research, however brief—has no place in nonfiction for kids, but there were those who disagreed.

Arguments in favor of invented dialogue included the idea that rooting something in conversation makes it come alive for the reader. After all, isn’t that what we’re trying to do? Make nonfiction more stimulating so kids will be enticed and excited to read it? With that, I could agree. And if the essence of what happened is based on careful research, and the words a writer puts in someone else’s mouth ring true, then what does it matter if the actual words were not actually spoken? Some nodded in agreement. I was not one of them.

It matters a tremendous amount if the words were not actually spoken. My first and gut reaction is that this is simply wrong. I wouldn’t want anyone putting posthumous words in my mouth, after all, even if they reflected the truth of something I might have said. But my indignation was not met with as much agreeable nodding as I expected. Or, as I had hoped. I was prodded to elaborate. Why does invented dialogue bother me so much?

The answer is this. If we’re talking about nonfiction for kids, it bothers me because they are amassing knowledge as they read. They are soaking things up, collecting information for the long haul, putting together the pieces of our world. The truths they read in their early years of nonfiction will be the truths upon which later insights and truths are built. And if some of those truths are indeed falsehoods, they will be planted right alongside the rest and become a permanent part of what they know to be true. How many adults have had to relearn incorrect pieces of history due to quoted material that was actually never spoken? Or have you still not yet been told that George Washington never did chop down that cherry tree?

And no, I am not against plays or movies that “bring history alive.” I am watching the John Adams series on HBO along with the rest of the country and am finding it quite fascinating. But the intention there is much different than slipping invented dialogue into otherwise factually accurate nonfiction for kids—and the intended audience is aware of those differences. So, challenge me; make me challenge myself. What are your thoughts, pro or con?

A Nonfiction Story

So, here we are, rethinking nonfiction. The rethinking piece means something different to each of us, I suspect. My professional roots are that of an editor of children’s library market nonfiction—a hat I wore proudly for more than a dozen years. Just this week, as I taught a group of undergraduates, I heard myself saying that “I loved, loved, loved my job as an editor.” Really? One guy asked. I mean, when people say that, they’re usually being sarcastic, he continued. No, I assured them, I adored being an editor. In fact, I often miss it. My entire job revolved around thinking about nonfiction for kids. So now, a decade into a full-time writing life, I find myself indeed rethinking nonfiction. Mulling over interesting ways to tell true stories. Stories that will grab young readers and inspire them to—dare I say it?—learn.

A lot of the rethinking that goes on for me has to do with building on my library market roots. And in some ways, overcoming them. Library market nonfiction, at least in the traditional sense from a decade and longer ago, simply takes a different approach than the trade. The difference, as I see it (and feel free to expand or disagree in the comments area) is that the nonfiction library market takes a fairly straightforward approach to topics, and maintains a close correlation to curriculum needs. This makes good pedagogical and business sense, as the educational market caters mainly to schools and libraries, with the trade crossover occurring in the minority.

The trade approach is the flip-side to this—and yes, I’m aware that I’m simplifying things for blog-brevity’s sake. The trade is interested in capturing much more of the bookstore market and counts on a built-in crossover to the schools and libraries for those titles that do have curriculum tie-ins. But the key to success in the trade nonfiction market is anything but straightforward. Something for which I am simultaneously grateful for and with which I continually struggle.

Let me explain. Having the freedom to approach a topic from my desired angle was not something I could do often in the library market, so when I branched out and began to think along trade lines it was liberating. However, having been so firmly rooted in the “straightforward,” I tend to have to break out of that mindset in my second (and third and fourth…) drafts of nonfiction manuscripts. I always start with the basics. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, it has stood me in good stead. The creative challenge then becomes seeing things from different perspectives and thinking in story.

In part, I credit Marc Aronson for helping me with this. He is my editor on a forthcoming book called Almost Astronauts. One day we met to talk about the book in its early stages. I happened to be coming from a morning of fiction writing. I made a comment something along the lines of “I have to switch gears now. I’ve been working on a novel.” He immediately said, “Oh no, stay right where you are. That’s the mindset you need to approach this story.” This story. A simple thing, semantics. And of course, not simple in the least. I had not yet allowed the word “story” to blend with the term “nonfiction.” And once I did, my pen began to fly. What’s your nonfiction story?

Kids Clapping for Nonfiction!

For my inaugural post, I was planning on introducing myself and talking a bit about the different approaches the trade vs. educational market nonfiction take, and what that means to writers and readers. But after what happened yesterday, I guess I’ll hold off until March for that. Although I will introduce myself, as I was always taught to do by my dear old Gram.

Briefly, I studied English at Oberlin College and received a Master in Education from Southern CT State University. I was an editor of children’s nonfiction for 13 years before moving away from New York City and starting to write full-time. I’ve been doing that for a bit more than 10 years now. Nice to meet you. So, on to what happened yesterday.

A local school put together a wonderful program called A Day of A Thousand Stars, in which people from all over the community descended upon said school for a marathon read-aloud. Every half-hour, a different visitor was escorted to one of the classrooms by a lovely 4th grade host. The joint was buzzing with visiting readers! The local celeb pediatrician, the youth soccer coach, the high school principal, the high school stars of a recent musical production, the lady with the greyhound therapy dog, and me, local author. Most readers chose from the wonderful selection of picture books in the library, or even brought their own favorites to read to their designated classroom.

I brought nonfiction.

Can you feel their hesitation? I did. But not for long.

First, I hooked them with the notion that they were getting sneak peeks. I had no selection of bound books with me. I opened my bag and took out one f&g, and one stack of color printouts. Books that were not quite books yet. Oh yeah, that got their attention.

Until one child asked, “Wait, are these true stories?” (Think Fred Savage in the Princess Bride saying, "Wait a minute. Is this a kissing book?" Same disdain.)

Yes, I nodded.

Was that disappointment I detected in their eyes? Never fear, I pushed on.

First I read from my f&g of Elizabeth Leads the Way and got them riled up about how unfair it was for women who lived in a time when they had no rights. A time when a girl named Elizabeth Cady got more and more fed up and finally did something about it. That class perked right up! They totally got it. Lots of heads nodding up and down.

Then, I read them Sandy’s Circus and saw them marvel at Boris Kulikov’s paintings. This story had them on the edge of their seats. Who was Calder? Is he still alive? How did you know about him? Where can I see his art? And on and on. It was a serious thrill for me as well, since I had never read this story aloud before. After all, it won’t be a book until September.

They asked questions, they clapped, and they asked when, oh when, would they be able to get their hands on some nonfiction! My day was made. Those are the moments when you thank goodness you had the good sense to truck on over to a local school and participate.

The only thing that came close—and this is for authors everywhere—is when one of the guest readers showed me the book he brought to read. A beloved, ragged copy of a book he has had since kindergarten—and yes, the book was nonfiction!

P.S. A note about the book title links: linking to the specific book pages on my website doesn't seem to be working and the links are defaulting to my home page. You can still get to where you want to be by clicking on Picture Books. Sorry! I'll try to find out why.