Ever Tried Writing for Children?

(NOTE:  I will be out of town Monday through Thursday next week, so no posts on those days) 

Today's poster has nothing to do with the topic, but is rather a farewell to July and a welcome to our next month, August. 

Have you ever tried writing a story for children? A poem for little tots? A non-fiction article for grade school kids? If not, give it a try. You may find you enjoy this kind of writing, or you could discover that it's hard work and maybe you'd not want to do it all the time. Many writers  Many writers concentrate on producing children's stories and nothing else. 

There are writers who think that writing for children is the same as the way we write for adults. Just shorter! That's not the case. Shorter alone won't do it. There are a number of things to keep in mind when you write for children such as:

Age Level:  The age level is important. There are toddler books, pre-school age, primary grades for kids 6-8, middle grade for 9-12 year olds, and YA (young adult) for the teen crowd. Settle on one. I chose middle grade since I had taught 3rd and 4th grade way back, and that age group still interests me.I admire those who can write for the very young children. It's not at all easy.

Content: The writer must keep in mind the age level. The younger the child, the simpler the content must be. For middle grade and YA, the content can be more involved the story can be. Children's writers have always been advised to steer away from controversial subjects, references to sex and gender situations, but today, that is not necessarily so. Still, I would hope that writers for kids would handle controversial subjects with care. Years ago, there would have been no swear words in a middle grade book. Today, it's alright with many editors. As I advised one writer, using cuss words throughout a book doesn't accomplish much, but use them in a very few places, and they will take on more strength and meaning. In other words, a little bit goes a long way. 

Fact or Fiction:  Children's writers need to be sure they are using correct facts in articles. They need to be sure the historical fiction stories represent the era in which they are set. Don't have a character ride a train out west long before railroad tracks had even been laid in that area of our country. Historical fiction for kids should show a true picture of the times. 

Vocabulary:  Again, age level matters here. It's alright to use a few words beyond the usual for whatever age group you are writing for. Children will often figure out the meaning of a word from the way it is used in a sentence. But you need to keep it to a minimum. Younger children's books use simple words while the older the child is, the more involved the vocabulary can be. 

Technique:  Children's writers use the same techniques in writing fiction that writers of adult fiction use. They must consider plot, theme, emotion, sensory details and more. One cardinal rule is that the child in the story must solve the problem, not an adult. 

Stories that appeal to kids:  They like humor, mysteries, and adventure. For YA, love stories are added and teenage problems addressed. 

Word Count:  Read guidelines for children's magazines and book publishers carefully. Highlights for Children is a longtime popular magazine for kids, but their word count for fiction is only 800 words. It's not easy to write a full story with so few words, but people do so as can be affirmed by the number of years Highlights has been publishing 800 word stories. The thing to remember here is to write tight! The extras have to go.

My main writing today is creative nonfiction, but I still enjoy writing for children now and then. Below is an award winning story I wrote after reading a newspaper article about a problem librarians had with children being sent to stay at the public library after school until Mom or Dad got home from work. My story is fiction based on that news article.

There’s A Dragon In The Library

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 the 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 shirt tail 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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