When I began this crazy journey, I never imagined my path would take me to the wild and desolate state next door.  I'm a California girl by birth, but my dad's a geologist and my sister and I spent many a summer wandering the deserts of Nevada, sneezing over sagebrush and wondering where the next Oreo was going to come from.

So when I read that the Nevada SCBWI sponsored a novel retreat on the California shore of Lake Tahoe, I figured I was safe.  No deserts.  No sagebrush.

It was in Tahoe that I met the brilliant Nevada regional advisors, Ellen Hopkins and Suzanne Morgan Williams.  I was placed in a critique group with the calmest, most incisive and straight-talking critiquer I have ever met:  Susan Hart Lindquist.  I learned about the Nevada SCBWI mentorship program.  I learned Susan was a mentor.  And I knew I had to apply.

I sent Susan my baby.  A 100-page middle grade novel about a fourth-grade boy who discovers his best friend is actually a fifth-century prince who was supposedly murdered by his uncle, Richard III.  After years of theater, I knew how to get into character.  I had a knack for getting words on paper.  But I had no clue about character arc, story arc or how to add depth to a novel.  I had a cute, simple story.  Susan would want much, much more.

And then I had to go to Nevada.  Virginia City is perched in the high desert, surrounded by sagebrush, and on my first morning there, all was encrusted by a thin layer of snow.  I fell immediately and irredeemably in love.  I went singing to the conference rooms where Susan took my book apart and told me to put it back together.  In a nice, calm, incisive, straight-talking way.  I quietly freaked out, went home and did exactly as she said.

In the course of six months, I learned about arcs and archetypes.  I learned about the transformational quality of story.  I demanded too much from my 10-year-old character and he became twelve.  He gained another friend, a girl.  I learned about alchemy and time-travel.  I read masterful stories by brilliant authors of whom I'd never heard.  I struggled.  And Susan was always there.  She never sugar-coated, she never let me slide, but she always, always told me I could do it.

The week before our mentor retreat (again in Virginia City), Margaret Peterson Haddix got on the New York Times bestseller list with her book, Sent, about a boy who discovers that his new friend is actually a 15th century prince who was supposedly murdered by his uncle, Richard III.

Imagine my surprise.

Susan told me not to give up hope.  She berated me on Facebook when I posted that I felt dejected.  She told me my book was different.  She told me everything I needed to know to keep going.

But I didn't.  I set it aside.  I returned to the book I'd begun when she was reading my ill-fated middle-grade novel.  And I applied all that she'd taught me.  I thought through, in advance, character arc and story arc and archetypes.  I heard her whispers as I struggled to get my character to internalize emotionally as well as react.  This book has Susan's fingerprints all over it, though she has never seen it.

And that is the mark of a good mentor.  Like Obi-Wan Kenobi, muttering about the Force in the dark, a good mentor remains in a person's psyche, bound to that person's work and future.  Like a special place. Like Nevada.  Sagebrush, desert and Susan are there, bound into my work.  Invisible, but whispering.

This week we're writing about things that are helping us along our respective publishing journeys  For me, it was connecting with an online community of writers who were willing to share their experiences and unlock the mysteries of the publishing world.
  
As I got closer to finishing the first draft of my manuscript, I realized I had no idea what happened next.  I had typed "the end" and figured the next thing to do was find an agent. But I.  Knew.  Nothing.  Enter the internet.

I spent a lot of time poking around online, reading publishing blogs and educating myself about the query/submission process.  While I found a lot of great information, I didn't feel like I knew enough to leave a comment or do anything more than lurk in the shadows.  And I didn't.  I mean, I had been ready to unleash a first draft on the world.

And then I found a website that changed all that-
The Blueboard.

If you're not familiar with the Blueboard-it's a writing forum for children's writers started by author Verla Kay. It's one of the most supportive communities I've ever seen online.  You can check it out here:  http://www.verlakay.com/boards/.

The Blueboard has writers from newbies to best sellers and even agents who regularly give their perspective, and all of them are willing to share their experiences and knowledge in a friendly and supportive way.  Even when confronted with a rank amateur in possession of a not quite ready for prime time first draft and a lot of questions.  

It was the Blueboard where I got critiques of my first ever query letter, stalked agent response times, learned when a manuscript is "ready" to send out, and commiserated with my peers about waiting times and rejections.  It was the Blueboard where I first shared my own good news when I signed with an agent, and it's the Blueboard where I'll be, waiting out the submission process.

The Blueboard is a place where I can follow other writers on their own path to publication, celebrate their accomplishments and empathize with the frustrations that inevitably come along the way.  And when I walk into a bookstore and see a Blueboarder's book?  I feel like I've come across an old friend.

Verla Kay is an accomplished writer and one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. I'll be interviewing her here next week.  But for now there is one thing you need to know if you write for children: Verla's built the coolest clubhouse in the neighborhood, and you are invited to the club.

 

Over the past years, I've read books on writing, I've taken online classes, participated in critique groups and spent countless hours writing. But when I stop to think about it, aside from writing itself, nothing has been more helpful to my writing growth than attending conferences and workshops. In fact, these events were impetus for classes, and critique groups and books.

I won't go into the obvious benefits of going to these sorts of gatherings. (Friends! Knowledge! Inspiration! Contacts!) What I'd like to do is highlight a less known but wonderful aspect of getting out there, and figuring out who does what in the world of writing books:

Meeting editors for hire. Or Manuscript Consultants. Sometimes called Manuscript Doctors, but I don't like this term and I don't think they do, either. But, essentially, these are capable people who can be hired to help with various stages of preparing a manuscript.

I've worked with three such individuals during very different points of my writing journey. All three were instrumental to me pushing myself to the next step. All three were wonderful, professional people. Two, I now count as dear friends.

The services Manuscript Consultants provide are diverse. They range from help with a query to a detailed copy edit. Conceptual to structural, their services can be tailored to fit your needs. This is a good thing. As I look back, what I asked my Manuscript Consultant seven years ago about my first WIP was broad. I wanted to know if I'd crafted a story. It was that simple. Did I have a beginning, middle and end? Did my characters do the things... you know, the growth/arc thing... that characters are supposed to do?

Nowadays, I can be more specific because I know more. Not just about writing a story or characters. I know about my own process, so I can ask for help when I need it. I can be specific, so my consultant can be, too. (But, I still ask if I've told a story. That's what it's all about, right?)

You'll find that Manuscript Consultants have different qualifications. Some are published writers. Some have edited professionally for publishing houses or magazines. Do this research. Be smart. This is your writing, so find out as much as you can before you hire them. Are they really going to help you? Do you know anyone who can vouch for them?

This was where attending conferences really helped me. I met two of the consultants I work with at workshops. I had the opportunity, through critiques at these events, to see them in action before I ever considered hiring them. When you're bent over your pages together, you can get a good sense for whether you've found a mentor who can help you grow your writing. Also, you can scope out their communication style. I like nice people who I can trust to tell me the truth. That's what I always look for. If they make me laugh, then I'm sold.

On a side note, I don't think working with a consultant replaces having a regular, trustworthy critique group. For me, it has supplemented what I receive from my amazing, brilliant, generous friends. (Sorry, but they are.)

Now, on to cost. This is a difficult one. I've struggled with spending money on my writing, not just on working with consultants. As a stay at home mother, I haven't been a financial contributor to the household for a while. But I decided a few years ago that writing is my start-up business. That I'd invest in it, in me, because this was what I wanted. I would approach it as though success was imminent. So every birthday, every anniversary and Christmas (ouch, I know) I banked gift credits and saved them for my writing expenses. And I find a way, when it's tight, to make my start-up a priority. I'm not saying it's been easy. What I am saying is that it has absolutely been worth it.

Next week, I'll be interviewing two Manuscript Consultants here at YA Muses. We'll look a little more closely at the services they provide. We'll talk about how they work with their clients. And I think, knowing those two, we may laugh a little as well.

Thanks for coming by. Now go forth and write! Success is imminent!

I’m going to be honest with you. Every big break I ever received in children’s publishing was a direct result of attending a writing conference. It all started several years ago when I attended my first national writing conference. I stepped onto a crowded elevator in LA and met a woman—Big Break #1. That chance meeting led to my writing one of the top 500 bestselling children’s books of all time (according to Publisher’s Weekly) and also writing several episodes of a very popular children’s television show for PBS. I’ll tell you that story in a future blog post, but this week the YA Muses want to share how writing conferences have helped us in our journey toward publication and highlight some of the best.

After that chance meeting in a LA elevator, life happened. I eventually stopped writing for children to focus all my efforts on writing for tenure at a research university. I was granted tenure, but I longed to write something a little more creative than “The applied multiple regression correlation of the blahblahblah” and “Complexity arises in the behavioral sciences when one departs from the orthogonality of factors in the blahblahblah.” Attending a conference seemed a good way to get back into the game, so I signed up for the Big Sur of the Rockies conference sponsored by the Rocky Mountain Chapter of SCBWI. From the beginning, the conference was different from my past experiences. I was required to submit manuscript pages ahead of time and had to be accepted to attend. I submitted twenty pages of my first attempt at a middle grade novel, Boob Blogs, but had little more than that completed. My biggest hope for the weekend was that I would be motivated to finish the book.

So on a crisp, fall weekend I checked in at Chautauqua in Boulder, Colorado. That night at dinner I saw my personalized agenda and knew this definitely wasn’t like any other past conference. The weekend was organized around two different critique groups. Each small critique group was led by one of the faculty members and met twice during the conference weekend. Writing time for revising the manuscripts, based on the feedback, was scheduled between the critique group sessions. Large group presentations, featuring the editors, agents and authors that served on faculty, were also scheduled—but the focus of the conference was on the critique groups. As I reviewed the agenda, a slip of paper fell into my lap and I started to hyperventilate. My first critique group was going to be led by Andrea Brown, agent extraordinaire and President of the Andrea Brown Literary Agency. A woman sitting beside me at dinner, whose husband I later learned was a basketball coach, whispered reverently over my shoulder, “It’s like getting a chance to try out for the pros.” And it was. Later that evening, I found myself sitting on a couch in a quaint cottage with four other writers nervously passing out stacks of papers. Andrea Brown sat in the circle with us, smiled supportively, and asked, “Who wants to start?” I didn’t know it at that moment, but it was to become Big Break #2.

Big Sur of the Rockies was an amazing experience. Both critique groups that weekend were thoughtful, tough and encouraging. More importantly, both resulted in better manuscripts. I certainly left with the desire to finish my book, but I also left with amazing connections that eventually led to my signing with the Andrea Brown Literary Agency and my super agent, Mary Kole. I also learned that the Rockies conference had been patterned after the original Big Sur Children’s Writing Conference organized by the Andrea Brown Literary Agency. I decided to go to Mecca.

Last December, I attended the Big Sur Children’s Writing Workshop in California. It was designed very much like Boulder, but the faculty was even larger and more impressive. Top agents, editors and authors were everywhere! This time I had the privilege of having bestselling author Ellen Hopkins and Abigail Samoun, editor at Random House/Tricycle Press, as my two critique group leaders. Once again the groups were small, intense and focused. That weekend I had the opportunity to meet my wonderful agent, Mary Kole, in person and received incredible, enthusiastic feedback on my writing from multiple editors. It was definitely a Big Break moment, but not in the way I thought it would be. Big Break #3 ended up being the small group of writers I met in my critique group who became the YAMuses. I might never have met them if not for Big Sur, and I thank my stars every day for their support and encouragement. Nobody understands this frustrating, exhilarating world like they do.

I realize my big breaks involved some elements of good fortune. I could have missed that elevator, or had someone else as my critique leader, or been in another small group. I could have also had all these opportunities, yet not been able to take advantage of them if I hadn’t also followed the “put your butt in the chair and write” rule. Nothing takes the place of that. That being said, if I hadn’t been at those conferences, making connections, and putting my writing out there—those particular breaks would have never come my way.

So enjoy our journey through the writing conference world this week and leave us your questions and comments.