Word Craft by Avi

Charlotte Doyle Q & A

By Avi on December 10, 2019 2

Will you write a sequel to The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle?

In my eyes, at least, the story of The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle is about how a young woman achieves the ability to think for herself, become truly independent, and do as she chooses. Thus, at the end of the book, she leaves her past life altogether, returns to The Seahawk and heads for an unknown life and adventure.

The last lines of the book are: “Something Zachariah told me filled my mind and excited my heart: `A sailor,’ he said, ‘chooses the wind that takes the ship from safe port … but winds have a mind of their own.’”

In other words, Charlotte decides to free herself from all constraints and is willing to choose what will happen in her life. But anything might …

I hope readers who identify with Charlotte can decide what might happen to her.

If I, as author, said what happened, it would, I think, diminish what the reader might imagine.

I won’t do that. Therefore, no sequel.

Would you like one of your books to become a movie?

That’s relevant here because the only book of mine that has come close to filmdom is The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle.

Would I like it to be turned into film? A good film, yes, not a bad one. Mind, Hollywood does not have a positive reputation for turning good books into good movies. Moreover, when an author agrees to the making of a film he/she loses almost all control as to how the film is made.

But a film would bring more readers to the book, which I would like.

As I write this, True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle is under option to be made into a film. That is, a producer has bought the contractual right to make the book into a movie. He has committed to making a good movie. But that option will soon expire. Will the film be made? The truth is, I have no idea.

But wait—here is a quirky fact. When an option contract is agreed upon, the would-be producer gains the right, if a film is made, to do a sequel. But that sequel (see above) would not be written by me.

The next book

By Avi on December 3, 2019 1

A week ago Sunday I went through my manuscript one final time. Be saying final, that means I am no longer making substantive changes, or I’m bored with going over and over and over the same thing, which means I am in need of other eyes.

I ran the text through my spell and grammar checker, thereby taking out some word repetitions, popped in or took out commas, found two spelling mistakes (phew!) saved the changes, and pushed the button that caused the text to be sent. A year’s work. Done. Until my editor gets back to me.

“You should take the day off,” my wife suggested. I did, sort of. Did some needful house stuff. I felt guilty—because I need to start a new book that will be due shortly.

Avi's Books

On Tuesday I knew I should start that book, but I found other things to do, including getting my mail (and water) which is twelve miles distant, and the roads were icy. Did that. (My wife drove) Also did two Skypes with classes. Found something irrelevant to read, only to find it boring. Bad writing irritates me. “I can do better.” Vanity as a goad.

This morning I lay abed thinking, I must start that book. I was reminded of an old college gag: ”Next week I’m going to stop procrastinating.”

But as I thought about it I realized I was nervous about starting this new book. Had I done enough research? Do I understand how I want the story to work? Have I thought enough about the protagonist? Should I pursue that thread? This thread? Will it all be too strong? Or will it be weak? Will it be too shocking for my readers, my reviewers, for me? Can I meet the expectations of my editor? She is strong on my idea. But she bought an idea, not a book.

I got up. I did the dishes from last night’s dinner. That helps me think, I told myself. I wrote back to a couple of kids who had written to me.

Sit down and start! Was it the angel on my left shoulder who was saying that softly, or the devil on my right shoulder screaming into my ear?

Maybe a chorus.

I cheated: I put down the first line of the book (important!) I had thought of a few weeks ago. A good first line is like a key to a lock. It worked. I began to write.

First chapter (crude) written. Okay, the writing feels comfortable. Not great, Will be (future tense) a good first chapter. But I need to … the fingers moved over the keyboard well … keep going…

The life of a writer is a mix of love of writing and words, habit, and telling a story you would like to hear.

What was your first book?

By Avi on November 26, 2019 1

an interior spread from Things That Sometimes Happen, illustration copyright Marjorie Priceman, published by Atheneum Books for Young Readers

Folks often assume that the first book published by a writer is the first book she or he has written. I suspect that is rarely true, and is certainly not true for me. Before I first published a book I had been working at being a playwright. A couple of plays were staged when I was a student at the University of Wisconsin (Madison). Another play was plucked up by a director for a Broadway production, but that never happened. Still another play was fully produced in a NYC theatre workshop, but nothing ever came of that either.

I wrote another play and, when I gave it to my theatre agent, she said she could only think of one producer who would read it. That was depressing. Meanwhile, my writer friend and mentor, Joe Berger, was urging me to write books, assuring me of more opportunities.

I did write a short novel, and again, via the support of Joe Berger, I found a publisher who offered to read it—because Joe was his writer. That publisher, John Erickson, declined my book but was sufficiently impressed to send it on (to his friends) at the Paul Reynolds agency, one of the top literary agencies in NYC. They liked it, offered it around to no avail, and then handed me over to one of their new young agents, Phoebe Larmore.

Meanwhile, I had a son, Shaun, who, like many kids, liked to climb on my lap and ask for a story. I would, in turn, ask what the story should be about. “A garbage truck. The rain,” and so forth. I invented such stories for him.

During the previous years I had been doodling (I’m not an artist) and had produced a series of cartoon greeting cards for a friend. Another friend took these efforts to a publisher, who in turn called me and asked me if I would be willing to illustrate a picture book. “I am not an artist,” I said. “I’m a writer.”

“Then, write a book and illustrate it.”

The problem was, my wife and I were about to embark on a year’s journey to England.

What I did was sit down and write up all those stories I had told to my son. I gave them to my agent, Phoebe Larmore, who offered them around. After a number of rejections, it was picked up by Doubleday as a picture book.

The book, Things That Sometimes Happen, had a complex publishing history. The selected artist simply handed in her work and then, for all practical purposes, disappeared. At Doubleday, there were a series of resignations from the editorial staff, so that the book had three successive editors.

Nonetheless, the book was published in 1970, received tepid (at best) reviews, and went nowhere. Then in 2001 an editor at Atheneum saw the book and asked if I would be willing to (in part) rewrite it and publish it with new art by Marjorie Priceman.

That happened, and in 2002 it was reissued, and received very good reviews.

So, in one sense, that first book has been around for fifty years and is still in print.

Two Questions about Poppy

By Avi on November 19, 2019 0

The other day I was Skyping with two very different schools—one a public school audience of 500, the other a private school with an audience of six. I was asked two questions, one of which I’m always asked. The other question I have never been asked.

Question one: “In the book Poppy why does Ragweed have to die?”

I am often asked that.

When I wrote Poppy it had never even entered my head that it would be part of a series, never mind book three of a seven-book run. Thus, when I wrote Poppy it was to be a stand-alone. The tale relates how Poppy, at first shy, and adverse to risk, becomes bold and daring. To do so effectively I thought she needed to go up against a formidable foe. It was not enough to say that the owl, Mr. Ocax, was a dangerous enemy—he eats mice—I had to show him being so. As I wrote that book, the cruel demise of Ragweed certainly made that point. It gave Poppy’s adventure real tension.

But a curious thing happened. As I went on to write the other books, the spirit—if you will—of Ragweed kept creeping into all the books. There is even a Ragweed Junior in the book Poppy and Ereth.

But after a while, I felt compelled to write Ragweed’s own story, and that appears in Ragweed.

Then I began to be called upon to notice the big gap in the whole saga: that is, how did Poppy and Ragweed meet? That is precisely the story I have told in the forthcoming Ragweed and Poppy which will be published this next spring.

So overall, Ragweed has a big role to play in the saga.

Question two: Do the creatures in Poppy have last names?

That’s a question I have never been asked.

One of the joys of writing for young people is the imaginative and interesting ways they respond to the stories. One learns a lot. Their sense of reality is our adult’s sense of fantasy. It’s perfectly understandable that a child feels that a last name is important. It’s a key part of their identity, their family. Clearly I, (who go solely under the name Avi) don’t think so. Indeed, the truth is I never thought of last names for these creatures, although perhaps Ereth, who derived his name from his scientific designation (Erethizon Dorsatum) comes close.

But when I was asked that question, I was delighted by the idea, and so we discussed it a bit. I suggested they come up with last names. They promised to do so, and send them to me.

Stay tuned.

Where do you get your ideas?

By Avi on November 12, 2019 0

This is, it would seem, the most common question asked of all writers. It certainly has been asked many times of me. I used to think people were truly asking me that question. Then it dawned on me the question really was, “Why don’t I get ideas?”

I think the way it works (at least for me) is this: From an early age I was read to a great deal, and rather quickly learned how to read—and did read—voraciously. As a boy I also listened to the radio, which in those days was mostly storytelling. (One of my favorite radio shows was Edward R. Morrow’s You are There. It recounted famous historical events—say, The Battle of Gettysburg, as if it was actually happening.) Even the movies I saw were rather heavy-handed narratives. There was also a story-telling tradition in my family.

My point is, I was so surrounded by storytelling I began to experience the world as a story. I still do. My sense of people, the world, things I see and experience, are stories. Which is to say, I don’t get ideas for stories, I see them.

An example.

A few years ago my wife and I were visiting San Francisco. We were walking along the Embarcadero, that part of the city which edges the great Bay. Along the walk were multiple flag poles, from which flags were fluttering. Curiously enough, the flags showed a photo of the Bay that once was, crowded with what were obviously abandoned sailing ships.

What, I wonder, was the story behind that?

It didn’t take long to discover what those ships were. When the 1849 Gold Rush happened, thousands of people flocked to San Francisco. A good many came in ships. When those ships reached the town (it was quickly becoming a city), passengers and crew rushed off to the gold fields, leaving the ships to rot. At one point there were seven-hundred of these forsaken vessels. They even gained a name: Rotten Row.

As I learned about these ships, and what San Francisco was in those early days, I saw a story waiting to be told. I set to work, and that book, Gold Rush Girl, will be published in spring 2020.

The Player King had its origins in a footnote in a book about English History. The Button War is based on a story my late father-in-law told me about his youth in Europe. Crispin: The Cross of Lead, owes its inception to something I heard in a lecture about the middle ages. Nothing but the Truth came about because of an account I read in a newspaper. And so forth.

In short, it was reading that shaped the way I see the world. The shape of my thoughts become my novels.

Again, I don’t get ideas for stories. I see them everywhere.

Want ideas for stories? Read. A lot.

What makes a great editor?

By Avi on November 5, 2019 0

With the passing of editor Richard Jackson, and amidst the talk about him, the question quite naturally came up: What makes for a great editor?

My own response is highly subjective. I think every writer would say so. The person who is a good editor for writer X is not necessarily a good editor for writer Y. And writer X’s good editor does not necessarily work well for writer Y. In saying that, we answer part of the original question: a good editor-writer working relationship has multiple emotional factors. Thus, can author and editor communicate well with each other? Do they share the same sense of humor, tragedy, and so forth? Do they share attitudes about gender, race? These things (and there are many more) truly matter, and they are, as I began this essay, highly subjective. The writer/editor writing relationship is a highly personal one, but it is also a business relationship. Profit and loss is a real factor. Does that seem complicated? It is.

But there are—in my experience—other factors. One of the key skills of a good editor is the ability to discern the potential qualities in what has to be an unfinished manuscript. That potential—as seen by the editor—needs to match what the writer hopes (wants) to achieve.

Remember, it is a romantic myth that writers create books alone.

In my experience, good editors never just say, “We can publish that.” They will say, “I can see you doing this, that, and the other thing to make this a successful book,” whatever the genre.

If you agree, fine. If you don’t, say “Thank you, no.” Not long ago I pitched a novel to editor 1. The idea was liked, but the response was “you should need to tell the story this way.” I said “No, thanks,” and took the same pitch to editor 2, who accepted it as I presented it. The annals of children’s literature are full of tales of books turned away, only to go elsewhere and win a Newbery Award. Mind, that which was turned away was not a Newbery book. It became so as editor and writer worked together.

And acknowledge this painful truth: You, the author, may be wrong. And, yes, editors can be wrong.

A good editor (in my experience) makes you see your work in a clearer, sharper light. That editor makes you want to get back to the book and revise. Repeatedly. If an editor suggests something alien to the writer’s goal, it’s a poor fit. That’s not to say the editor is wrong, it’s that, I repeat, it’s a poor fit. But it is painful to work with an editor who doesn’t share your vision. Revising a book to fit someone else’s vision is not much fun.

Indeed, the most difficult kind of editor is the one who sees in your work something that they would like to see, and tries to bend your work accordingly. They are trying to create something for their own purposes. Again they may be right, (it might be for commercial reasons) and if the writer is willing to aim for that, so be it. But if editor and writer are moving in opposite ways, it’s hard. Leave Push-Me-Pull-Yous to Dr. Dolittle.

Meeting with your editor

I have always felt the best part of writer/editor moments occur when textual problems are solved together by talk. That’s when the editorial process is truly exciting. Then it’s all about ideas, and creating exciting literature to reveal them.

The best editors—and Dick Jackson was one of the rare great ones—bring the author’s vision to full fruition. Great editors may be invisible, but it doesn’t say they aren’t there. They are.

Before I get started

By Avi on October 29, 2019 0

On Sunday I went through my manuscript one final time. By saying final, that means I am no longer making substantive changes, or I’m bored with going over and over and over the same thing, which means I am in need of other eyes.

I ran the text through my spell and grammar checker, thereby taking out some word repetitions, popped in or took out commas, found two spelling mistakes (phew!), saved the changes, and pushed the button that caused the text to be sent. A year’s work. Done. Until my editor gets back to me.

“You should take the day off,” my wife suggested. I did, sort of. Did some needful house stuff, and yet I felt guilty—because I need to start a new book that will be due shortly.

winter road in the mountains

On Tuesday I knew I should start that book, but I found other things to do, including getting my mail (and water) which is twelve miles distant, and the roads were icy. Did that. (My wife drove.) Also did two Skypes with classes. Found something irrelevant to read, only to find it boring. Bad writing irritates me. “I can do better.” Vanity as a goad.

This morning I lay abed thinking, I must start that book. I was reminded of an old college gag: ”Next week I’m going to stop procrastinating.”

I got up. I did the dishes from last night’s dinner. That helps me think, I told myself. I wrote back to a couple of kids who had written to me.

Sit down and start! Was it the angel on my left shoulder who was saying that softly, or the devil on my right shoulder screaming into my ear?

Maybe a chorus.

lock and key

I cheated: I put down the first line of the book (important!) I had thought of a few weeks ago. A good first line is like a key to a lock. It worked. I began to write.

First chapter (crude) written. Okay, the writing feels comfortable. Not great, Will be (future tense) be a good first chapter. But I need to…. The fingers moved over the keyboard well. Keep going………………

The life of a writer is a mix of love of writing and words, habit, and telling a story you would like to hear.

Q&A: Does your family help you write your books?

By Avi on October 22, 2019 1

writing at the computer

In many different ways, yes.

When I feel that a book I am writing has reached a certain level of quality—after about seven months—I read the manuscript to my wife.

She knows, generally, what I have been writing about, but I have not shared specifics.

Not only is my wife exceptionally well read, she is a good listener, and a sharp critic. Indeed, she is my toughest critic. But don’t think she is always complementary. “This isn’t working,” she has said. “Your editor won’t like this.” Even, “I don’t like it.” But when she does like a work—“This is good,” as she said just last night when I read a new work to her–I am greatly, well, relieved.

When I read to her I do so with pen in hand. I always find things I want to change and mark the manuscript accordingly. It may be as simple as an overlooked comma, or a whole paragraph that I realize I don’t need. As I read the text, I may notice that I have left out something in the plot, or that I have not explained or shown something clearly. I may even note a badly written section.

The point is, when I read the book aloud, I transform myself into a reader and thereby experience my work in a different way. It is one of the most necessary steps in my writing process.

Writing is also a business, the way I make my living. When problems or questions come about, I talk things out with my wife. That’s both useful and helpful.

Regarding other family, when my kids were much younger, I read the books to them. They were wonderfully blunt about what they liked or did not like. “Keep reading,” was obviously a good sign. “Can I go out and play?” was not.

There have been bits and pieces in my children’s lives that I have used in books. A Place Called Ugly, was one such book. No More Magic, The Good Dog, and Perloo the Bold are others. But none of my books are about my family.

When the books are published, all my (now adult) kids get a copy, but I don’t ask if they’ve read them. If they volunteer that they have, I don’t put them on the spot by asking for a reaction. The last time I did that, and inquired what my daughter thought of such and such a book, she said, “It’s cute.” That’s all she would say. Not helpful.

Mostly, the most useful aspect of family support is their understanding that writing is what I do, that it takes a lot of time (at home), and more often than not I am un-communicative about how I spend my time hour after hour, day after day.

In short, they know what it means to be a writer. That’s a major help.

Q&A: Language and Word Count

By Avi on October 15, 2019 0

As I continue to answer the questions I am most often asked, I’ve been given two more questions.

Question one: “Do you work to write the way the people spoke in the past?”

This is actually a complex question. The answer, simply put, is that it depends on the context of the book I am trying to write. Consider, I do write in English. But if I am writing an historical novel set in 14th Century England, (say Crispin) as contrasted with one set in 18th Century England (The End of the World and Beyond) or 19th Century England (The Traitor’s Gate) the historical English spoken will differ. There is very little 19th Century English we could not understand. 14th Century English would be, for the most part, gibberish. I don’t want to write in such a way that my readers will be discouraged from reading the book. Therefore, I try to use a few words from the time period to give some flavor—so to speak—as to how the language was used.

Question two: “Do you work with a daily word count quota in mind? Do you work on other projects simultaneously?”

I am an early riser, and as I sit before the computer, cup of coffee near to hand at 7 AM, I am trying to decide what I am going to accomplish that day. Rewrite chapter 5? Get on with the unwritten chapter 36? Go through the whole book, rewriting as I read? So no, no daily quota. But always there is a general deadline looming on the not-so-distant horizon. I do need to submit a book by then. I work constantly toward that goal. No surprise, some days I am more successful than others. Call it an annual quota.

As to simultaneous projects, the answer is yes. Thus when I submit the draft of the book I am currently trying to finish, there will be time (more or less) before I hear from my editor. During that time I will be working on another book. Thus, at this particular moment, I am trying to finish the first draft of book A, waiting for proofs of book B, working with an editor to finalize the book cover design for book C, researching the next project, Book D. In short, I am always working on something.

Q&A: How do you deal with criticism?

By Avi on October 8, 2019 2

gulls

It is the way of most art—a piece of writing, movie, painting, dance, etc., etc.—that it is generally created to be experienced by others, and in so doing exposes itself to both public praise and criticism. That is inherently part of the art-making process. Moreover, this critical response comes to the artist, for the most part, by people you don’t know, and will never know. It is impersonal. These critics have little or no knowledge of how you created your art, why you did so, how long or how hard you worked to create it. Perhaps that’s how it should be: the art is experienced by how it is received. It is simply (more or less) liked or not liked.

When I first began to publish, critical responses (favorable and unfavorable) came from professional critics in journals, magazines, and newspapers. Nowadays, because of the internet, criticism comes from everywhere. Moreover, it has become the nature of internet criticism, (not just in the world of art) that people feel free to say anything, from lavish praise to dismissive insult. It can be wildly supportive, or bluntly cruel. I’ve experienced both.

(I’ve sometimes wondered when I read a very caustic negative review [not necessarily for one of my books] how the reviewer would like his or her work being reviewed by a casual passerby.)

One of the things that people do not fully grasp is that art—in whatever form—is rarely created by just one person. Next time you go to a movie, hang around and watch the final credits—the listing of the many, many people who were engaged in the making of the film. It is not so different from the making of a book. A publisher once told me that she estimated that some forty people have a hand in each published book. But published books of fiction, unless there are fulsome acknowledgements, rarely list all the people involved.

Yet criticism of a book is almost wholly aimed at the presumptive sole author of the book.

The question posted here is how do I respond to that criticism? If it’s positive, one can smile, and think “That’s nice. Thank you.” Moreover, a positive review helps sell the book, and bluntly, that’s how I make my living.

Negative criticism is much harder to absorb. But what I have learned is if—in the public criticism—a fair number of folks say the same thing, it is probably accurate. This is to say, the best criticism allows you to learn and get better at your art. That’s hard to do, but ultimately, necessary. That means a negative response can be much more helpful than a purely positive critique.

But the insulting, or dismissive responses can be very painful for the artist.

Many years ago a book of mine was published in England. The book—meant to be funny—had a line that involved baseball. Since baseball is not played in England, the English editor changed that baseball line to one that referenced soccer. When that book was reviewed in England, a critic who did not like it, quoted that very line to indicate why he thought my book was weak. And when True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle was published, one reviewer indicated that “If writer and editor had worked harder it would have been a better book.”

So the essential answer to this question is that I have learned to live with what is made of my work. If I can learn from it, great. If it’s insulting, well, I don’t so much turn the other cheek, I turn another page.

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Charlotte Doyle Q & A

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The next book

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What was your first book?

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Two Questions about Poppy

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Where do you get your ideas?

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What makes a great editor?

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Before I get started

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Q&A: Does your family help you write your books?

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Q&A: Language and Word Count

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Q&A: How do you deal with criticism?

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