Kids at Play
Children are lively, filled with energy that we wish we could bottle and sell. Even so, they sometimes like to sit quietly with a book. Hopefully, parents start reading books to their offspring at a very early age. Once the kids are able to read on their own, parents should do all they can to encourage reading for pleasure as well as for school assignments.
When I first began writing, my goal was to write middle-grade fiction. I did that for a few years, sold several short stories to children's magazines, both online and print. I ended up branching into other types of writing, but I have continued to write stories for kids now and then.
There are categories for children's books or stories going from simple board books to picture books, then on to chapter books for primary aged children, on to middle-grades, then YA (Young Adult). Most children's writers select one of those areas and stay with it. As I said, mine was middle-grade fiction mainly because that was the age level that I taught for five years.
To write for children, one doesn't merely 'do it.' There are definite guidelines. Picture books have page definitions--this many and no more. The chapbooks have a number of pages suggestions and much more. Each category has its own set of rules if you want to name them that. You don't want to sit down and write a story for children before you do some reading about what is alright and what is not. There are many reference books about writing for children. If you have any desire to try this field, read a good number of these helpful books before you write and definitely prior to submitting.
One of the first things I learned when starting to write for children was that picture book editors want to choose the illustrator. The author of the book has little to say about it. The person who writes the book has definite ideas for the illustrations. Hopefully, the editor who likes the book enough to buy it will also spend time getting the author's thoughts on illustrations.
One of the big no-no items in writing for children is to not preach at them. The lesson learned (if there is one) should be subtle. Another is to keep the adults in the story to a minimum. Kids want to read about kids. Don't let the adults solve the problem. The child in the story should do that. There are other no-no items that you'll read about if you do as I suggest and read several books on the topic of writing for kids.
It's not easy to write a full story in a small number of words. Most children's magazines have a word count that is scary. How can you tell a full story in 800 words? Or even 500? It can be done, but it takes practice. I often write the story the way I want to, then go back and cut, cut, cut until I am at the proper number of words. Not fun!
Here is a story that I wrote after reading in the newspaper that parents who worked were using libraries as after-school places for their children to go. I started thinking about how it would be difficult doing so day after day for both the children and the librarians. My story came from my pondering. It was published in an online magazine called Knowonder! and received an award there plus many comments from readers. It was also fun to write which is what we always hope for, no matter what we are writing.
There’s A Dragon In The Library
By Nancy Julien Kopp
Wilhemina Higgins’ long braids bounced as she ran down the narrow tunnel the bookshelves made in the Westlake Public Library. Her untied shoelaces slapped against well-worn sneakers. Past the Js, Ks, and Ls she flew, only slowing slightly as she rounded the corner.
Wilhemina spied a dragon waiting at the end of the row of shelves. She screeched to a sudden stop. Her heart thumped.
At first, it was silent. Then the monster snorted, lifted its huge head, took in a gigantic breath inward and fell silent again.
Wilhemina swallowed and took one step back. Before she could turn and retrace her path, the enormous dragon reared back on its hind legs, threw back its massive head, and breathed out a whoosh! Smoke curled from its nostrils while flames burst forth from the great mouth. The dragon clawed the air and flapped magnificent wings. The green and purple scales that covered the beast from head to toe gleamed under the library lights. Its amber eyes glinted like cut crystal.
“Wilhemina Higgins!” The dragon roared. “How many times have you been told? There is no running in the library.”
“Do you mean today, Miss Philpot?” Wilhemina looked right into the dragon’s eyes. “Or did you mean all week?”
“You know the rules,” the librarian said. “Why do you come here, if not to read?” Miss Philpot breathed heavily, and she opened and closed her claws.
Wilhemina feared the dragon might snort and spurt fire again at any minute.
“My mother doesn’t get home from work until 5 o’clock.” Wilhemina’s voice was as firm as Miss Philpot’s. “She says a library is a safe place for me to stay after school.”
The dragon pulled her sweater close around her shoulders. “If you cannot follow the rules, you must go outside.”
“It’s cold as a bowl of ice cream out there, and it’s going to rain, too,” Wilhemina answered.
“Then go sit on the steps.”
“The steps are hard as rocks.”
“You could stay at school,” Miss Philpot answered, barely moving her lips as she spoke.
“There’s no one there,” Wilhemina answered back, in the same way, lips scarcely moving.
“Then you must study while you’re here.” Miss Philpot’s eyes flashed, and her hands turned claw-like once more.
“I’ve studied all day,” Wilhemina told her. She folded her arms and spread her feet apart, ready for battle.
The dragon hissed and narrowed its eyes. “Don’t be insolent.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Wilhemina said.
“Then go look it up!” Miss Philpot cried as she rushed to her desk.
Wilhemina felt a tug on her shirttail and turned around. “What do you want?”
Eyes wide, the tugger looked up at Wilhemina. “Is she mad at you?”
Wilhemina sighed. “Every day. So, what’s your problem, Lucy Ann?”
“I’m bored.”
“Then go read a book.” Wilhemina thought her answer sounded a great deal like Miss Philpot.
“Can’t read yet,” Lucy Ann replied. She pushed her bottom lip over the top one and stared at Wilhemina.
“Oh go away and leave me alone,” Wilhemina said. She sprinted along the line of shelves ignoring the brightly colored book jackets. She stopped at the tall library windows where rain beat against the panes and thunder rattled them. She put her elbows on the windowsill, curled her hands around her cheeks, and watched the wind bend the tree branches outside.
There was another tug on her shirt. Without looking around, she said, “What do you want now, Lucy Ann?”
“Read this to me.” Lucy Ann held up a large picture book.
Wilhemina shrugged and took the book Lucy Ann held out. “Why not?” She sighed.
They marched past the dragon’s desk. Miss Philpot watched silently, but Wilhemina thought she could see tiny wisps of smoke curling from under her nose.
The two girls sat at a round table, and Wilhemina read aloud in a quiet voice, wriggling on her chair as she turned the pages.
“You can do better than that, Wilhemina.” Lucy Ann scowled. “You sound dull.”
There was a moment of silence. Then Wilhemina said, “You’re right!” She sat up straighter, flipped back to page one, and read with more feeling. She used a different voice for each character in the story. Halfway through, she noticed three more listeners around the table.
“Keep going,” one of them said when she stopped reading.
Wilhemina laughed and continued reading the story and showing the pictures to the younger children.
From the corner of her eye, she spied a fluffy, long-haired cat dancing about on dainty paws. Its amber eyes surveyed the group at the table. Then, the cat purred deep in its throat.
When Wilhemina closed the book, the cat purred again and said, “Wilhemina Higgins, you read that book wonderfully well. Perhaps you could start an after-school story club. What do you think?”
“I think I would like that very much, Miss Philpot.” Wilhemina reached out to shake the paw the librarian offered her.
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