My life is a clown car

My life lately is a clown car: Distracting, too much crammed into an impossibly small space, entertaining but likely to crash and burn if someone isn't steering carefully.

A competition held by SCBWI (http://scbwi.org) ends this week and I desperately wanted to enter. The prize is hugely enticing. The judge is Tomie dePaola!!! The challenge: Draw the opening scene from HEIDI, a book written in 1872, subsequently replotted into films that etched their directors' visions on my brain. How to update Heidi and make her fun for today's kids?
To really do well I had to start weeks ago -- which I did.
Amid all my crazy deadlines and events in November, I sketched out a few ideas.
Nothing seemed original and fun to me. I did some research. Sketched out a few more ideas.

One of my illustrator friends set the bar *very* high with her entry. I didn't have a shot at the prize, so why bother with an entry? Especially with my clown car life crammed with a zillion deadlines.
It haunted me, though. I finished all the other deadlines (except the Ellie book 4 -- that's more long-term) and yesterday at 7 pm as Charlie and I sat in the warmth of a writers' cafe, getting ready for the drive home, I said to him I wanted to try to enter the contest. Even though it ended at midnight. And the drive home was an hour. And I only had parts of ideas that I liked.

Since I didn't have the supplies necessary to create the art at the cafe, we got into the car and headed home. On the way I was smacked by a flash of an idea.
Charlie turned on the interior ceiling light so I could sketch.I protested -- the bright light was very distracting to drivers, not to mention to Charlie!
But he insisted.
And, amazingly, the sketches turned out pretty well. I'm used to sketching in the car -- I do it on almost every school visit trip we take.
The ride was smoother than it's been, because we splurged on new tires a couple weeks ago (one tire had been egg-shaped; you can imagine the bumpety drawings that produced).
I sketched a few versions of my brain flash -- I was excited because it seemed original and fun (my two rules for bothering to enter).
The only question: Could I possibly get it colored and sent to the contest in time? In fact, might the contest have ended at midnight *yesterday*? My brain is good at playing tricks on me.

We arrived home. I gathered up my piles of papers and books, and raced to my studio. Pulled up the contest website. I still had time! Three hours and 40 minutes!
I scanned in the art and tweaked it. Added the lettering. Tweak, tweak, tweak. Color.
The phone rang. It was my mom. Charlie handed me the phone! Nooo!!! I have to work!!! Balancing the phone on one shoulder, talking to Mom, I colored the art. More tweaks. Scanned the final art into the computer -- Oh, no!!! It's garish!! The subtle art turned garish in my evil scanner! Tweaked it some more. Kept reducing the file size until it fit the contest guidelines, and emailed it to Charlie's computer to see if the garish was gone. It was! Victory dance!!
Mailed it to the judges.
I'm happy with it. If it doesn't win, I'm okay with that too -- I have already seen some uber-fabulous entries by other illustrators. May the best Heidi win!

My wish list for gifts:
- a little booklight to keep in the car, for sketching
- a better scanner
- art supplies!
- a little more confidence, please

Opinionated me: Why I'm attending the conference

I just got back from a writer retreat with my critique group. Four days away from family in a city far away. Four days of potentially uninterrupted writing time.

It was a hassle getting ready and coordinating schedules for my family, and of course it doesn't cost the same to live in a Bed & Breakfast as to live at home.
And there's the issue of sharing a room -- Do I snore? Do I snore loudly? Do I snore so loudly as to make me an unpleasant roommate?
And would you tell me if the answer was yes?
I'm always nervous that I'll forget something important at home (last year it was suddenly cold outside. I forgot a sweatshirt).
Plus, with my head in my books, and all my angsty issues that seem to rear their ugly heads in the days before any big event, how much good company can I possibly be?

And -- I was waiting to hear back at any minute from my agent about a novel and an Ellie McDoodle proposal I'd sent her.
The editor was 2 weeks late with novel feedback -- never a good sign.

Two days before the retreat I wasn't even sure what I was going to write about at the retreat. With two projects up in the air, not knowing which was a priority (if either), and a third very vague idea of three sisters and some dark stuff, I didn't know how I was going to make my time at the retreat worth the cost of attending.

Weird thing, it worked out, as things usually do. My husband called the first night with agent news: They're using the Ellie 4 proposal to fulfill a contract's second half-- no more sleepless nights.
I wrote a good first chapter to the novel. (This is I think the 7th try).
I have a future.

So why go to the fall SCBWI-Michigan conference in October? I can't sell Ellie McDoodles to the editors there. I don't need a new agent. What's the point, then?

It's this: The mix of inspiration and information you get from being immersed in the craft with other writers stays with you for months afterward and it often regenerates into motivation.
For me, it *always* does.
I have never left a conference thinking I knew all there was to be known.
Never left without seeing and hearing something new.
Sometimes when I leave the conference I'm in disrepair, broken down, dismayed that I wasn't "discovered."
And then I realize, it's up to me to make the discovery.
I can follow up on tips heard at the conference. I can check out the URLs and the books and software and concepts mentioned.

The conference doesn't exist to pair me up with an editor and marry me off to an agent.
The conference exists to expand my brain -- and it does that every single time. Even if I already knew the speakers, memorized their presentations and had read every book they edited, I still could get something out of the questions my fellow writers and illustrators asked.

There's a dynamic component in the conference that you won't get from reading articles online.

As long as I am able, I will attend writer conferences and retreats -- even if it's expensive, even if it's inconvenient, even if I feel dark and scared and uncreative.
For inspiring and moving me off center, writer events are batting a thousand. I have no reason to think this upcoming Michigan SCBWI Fall Conference won't do the same.
And -- bonus!!! -- I get to see dear friends at the same time.
How much better can life get?

A Rally of Writers

I see the date's been set for the Skaaldic Society of Lansing's A Rally of Writers:
April 10, 2010.
This is a day-long writer conference held at the beautiful and spacious Lansing Community College West Campus.

My writer-husband Charlie and I attended the Rally of Writers ages ago, long before we joined SCBWI. It was great every year, but one year Charlie said we shouldn't return to the Rally until we were published so we'd have something happy to report at it -- you know, that old "I'm not *really* a writer yet, so I shouldn't attend writer events" sort of thinking that those of us with low self confidence wallow in. Plus we had little kids at home; daily life was a challenge.

Getting published took years. We delved into comic strips, satire, self-published mini books. . . and then eventually I joined SCBWI in 2003. A Rally writer kept urging me to join SCBWI earlier but I was bullheaded, impoverished and easily-distracted.

It's disappointing to realize I could have been living my dream much earlier, but I guess every path has value, even the meandering one.

Last year the Rally of Writers folks asked me to present a session on kids' books.

I was happy to do it but didn't expect to find much of use for me, since I have a genre that works for me, and a career, and no desire to branch out.

Boy, was I surprised.

Several of the sessions were of immediate, applicable use. Lev Raphael's memoir talks were particularly fascinating and deeply moving, and I learned a lot about poetry from keynote speaker Gerry LaFemina. If my sketchbook were handy, if I weren't on[line, avoiding a] deadline right now, I'd upload sketches.
Charlie enjoyed it too, and I think it jumpstarted his new writing career.

I'd definitely go back, either to present or to sit in the audience: Two thumbs up for Lansing's Rally of Writers!

The SCBWI Conference in my region

This past weekend SCBWI-Michigan hosted Author/Poet Ellen Hopkins (link leads to my pal Kerry Madden's blog post, Ellen's recent poem about censorship) and Author-Illustrator Matt Faulkner and Editor Harold Underdown and Art Director Loraine Joyner of Peachtree and Literary Agent Jennie Dunham and Author Leslie Connor and Editor Tim Travaligni of Putnam. The whole weekend was outstanding. I advanced both my writing and my art, learned a lot and had a fabulous time.

Best take-away tip which was made clear right before the conference and then reinforced all weekend:
Do what you're best at. Pick what you want to do and pursue only that. Be persistent, never give up, but especially be yourself. Don't lose sight of that thing that you have that nobody else has -- because it's valuable.

Here's an interesting thing: The stuff my portfolio critiquers liked best was the wolf art from last month (pencil sketch here) -- and this picturebook art from 2 years ago --

and this piece I did wayyy back in 2002 -- for my very first picturebook. It didn't sell (didn't win the Margaret K. McElderry contest I entered it in) but it's nice to know the art still works. I always liked it. Maybe I'll revise the book and sell it someday. After reforming into a molehill that mountainous To-Do pile on the desk...