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I went to see the new Toy Story movie on my birthday. I loved it! It’s deserving of all the hype it’s been getting and you should definitely check it out if you get the chance. In the mean time, here are some lessons I learned about writing courtesy of Pixar Animation Studios.

Patience

It’s been eleven years since the last Toy Story movie. It takes time to create something wonderful. Don’t be so caught up in “getting something out there” that you don’t spend the time to make sure it’s something worth having out there.

Keep your audience in mind

One of the things that makes Toy Story work (well, most of Pixar’s movies) is that it appeals to both kids and adults. Even though we may be writing for kids, we need to keep in mind who’s buying our books. This is especially true if we’re writing picture books.

Respect your audience

Kids are smart and often come with a better (and more mature) sense of humor than we give them credit for. Everyone loves slapstick but even young readers can appreciate a thoughtful story.

Pick substance over flash

The animation of the Toy Story 3 is stunning. But what makes it truly great is the *story.* You can have all the flashy tricks in the world going on it your book or following the latest trend. But if you don’t have a quality story, the work will ultimately fall flat.

Good characters are essential

One of the reasons the Toy Story franchise has been so successful is that it has memorable characters. They are clever, kind, smart, dedicated, loving and yes, flawed. We can relate to them and find their world believable.

Show, don’t tell

There is a scene in Toy Story 3 where all looks bleak for Woody and the gang. I won’t tell you what it is, but I will tell you that the characters simply begin to join hands. Without saying a word, these characters tell us so much about their love for each other. It’s amazingly moving. It’s also great writing.

Hey! It’s quiz time for my daughter and her friend, which is what they get for sitting around my den on Saturday instead of doing something productive. I have two 11-year-old girls here. What do they plan to read this summer?

M: Plans to re-read the Warriors books by Erin Hunter and is looking forward to the newest Warrior release; wants to read the fifth Percy Jackson book; wants to read more Madeline L’Engle and more of the Sisters Grimm series.

K: Twilight by Stephanie Meyer; wants to finally read the 13th book of Series of Unfortunate Events; wants to start the Warrior series.

Series are definitely the winner here! I haven’t had the courage to delve into Warriors myself, but the other books are great choices.

Kate

After reading Jennifer Hubbard’s post on re-reading, I got thinking about books that I re-read and the reasons why. Even though almost nothing gets me more excited than finding a wonderful new book to read (except maybe solving a challenging issue in my writing), sometimes I just want to pick up an old favourite. Why?

1. It’s comforting, like spending time with an old friend or family member without having to talk.
2. When I’m feeling tired, sometimes it’s easier to read something where I already know what’s going to happen.
3. The story is compelling and, even though it’s different than reading it the first time, I want the experience of reading it again.
4. I want to share, so I read it aloud to one of my daughters.
5. I admire the writer’s skill and want to get a feel for their writing techniques again, or I want to research how the writer handles a particular element of writing. Even when this is my purpose, I often get caught up in the story!

A few of my favourite books to re-read:

• The City of Ember by Jeanne DuPrau
• The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
• Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone by J.K. Rowling (or any of the HP books)
• These Happy Golden Years by Laura Ingalls Wilder
• A Single Shard by Linda Sue Park
• Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White

– Andrea

There’s been a lot of talk about the Student of the Year award around my house lately. It’s a special recognition that each team of teachers at my daughter’s middle school give to one student each year. My daughter was really hoping to be chosen and was crushed when she learned someone else got picked. She cried for hours and there wasn’t much I could do but tell her *I* think she’s amazing.

Wanting to be recognized for our hard work is simply part of being human. I think, as writers, we are keenly aware of that. But here’s the thing: looking outside of ourselves for validation and recognition rarely ends well. It’s taken me a long time and many years in the writing business to realize this.

Here are a few of things I shared with my daughter. (I was a little more subtle with her; 13 year-olds are not known for listening to Mom!) See how many of them also apply to having a manuscript rejected:

Someone else succeeding doesn’t mean you failed.

You can do your best and still not win.

There were lots and lots of other people to choose from; the decision probably wasn’t personal.

You don’t know how well other people did.

Don’t do the work because you want something. Do your best because it feels good.

You can only control what you can control. Let the other stuff go.

Success is not a pie with a finite number of pieces; there’s enough to go around. Your turn will come.

After the initial sting of disappointment, my daughter pulled herself together. I think she’ll be okay. After all, like Tom Hanks once said, “You learn more from getting your butt kicked than you do from getting it kissed.”

Every week, I critique a few chapters or sections of stories, but recently one of my critique buddies and I did a full novel exchange. Although I try to keep the full novel in mind when I critique chapters (if possible), a full novel critique is very different. You want to focus on the big picture, rather than line by line details. What I discovered:

 1. If you read through as though you’re reading a regular book, you can give a “first impression” of the book as a whole, e.g. loved it, hated it, something in between.

 2. You can think about the overall strengths of the story. What parts (scenes or chapters) are really good? Does the story hold your interest all the way through?   

 3. Characters make overall impressions too. Try thinking about the question: Which characters did you like and why? I liked being able to see how characters fit into the whole story.

 4. Pacing:  It’s easier to get a handle on the pacing—which parts are moving too slow or too fast? Where does my mind wander? Would I skip over this section, impatient to get to the end?

 5. Does the ending work? It’s a lot easier to judge whether the story has a satisfying and believable ending when you’ve just read the rest of the novel.

 6. Small things sometimes stick out. In an individual chapter, a detail may seem unimportant, but when you read the story as a whole, you can see where the puzzle fits together. On the other hand, if something small happens consistently, like an oft-repeated word or phrase, a scene too reminiscent of a scene earlier in the story, it stands out.

 One downside of doing a full novel critique is the time it takes. But the feedback makes it worth it. Plus, it gave me a new perspective on critiquing.

 – Andrea

When I first starting doing martial arts, I struggled with insecurity next to more experienced belts. I felt like,  no matter how hard I worked at it, I’d never be that good. Everyone else seemed to pick up on things sooner and their techniques were so much more graceful than mine. A black belt gave me some great advice. She said that whenever I was tempted to compare myself to someone else, I should tell myself “I’m a white belt; I don’t need to know that yet.”

It was great advice because it *allowed* me to suck. My only job was to keep showing up and keep practicing the skills I’d be tested on next. Sure, I could aspire to be as confident and effective as those black belts I saw. But it was going to take time. And lots of bruises, tears and sweat. In the mean time, the joy was in the process and in the leap of trying something new.

I need to take this advice to heart these days. My work-in-progress is stalling out (curses, you monstrous middles!) and I find myself wondering if I’ll ever be good enough to pull it off. I look around and see so many others finishing their drafts, landing agents or publishing books. And here I sit – unable to get through my lousy rough draft.

But, hey, my job right now is to just keep showing up. Every day. Ready to fight with all my heart and to the best of ability.

I may not be new to writing, but I *am* new to writing fiction. So say it with me, “I’m a white belt; I don’t need to be brilliant yet!”

I buy index cards in all different colors. Staples loves me. I’m their preferred customer. (They gave me a tag and everything.)

I know I should be a sophisticated, 21st century writer, but there’s something about revision notes on index cards that I can’t let go.

Right now, there are two purple index cards on my desk. One never leaves my desk. On one side, I write notes on my hook, the short blurb for my book. (I have two sentences so far.) The other side has a list of things to plant in earlier chapters when I revise, the things I’m discovering about my book as I write it: time of year, a special childhood memory of my main character, etc.

The second index card is labeled “Ch 1 crit suggestions.” I went through my fellow MiG Writers’ critiques of my first chapter and compiled a list of 19 revision points that resonated with me. (Yeah, nineteen. Well, the first chapter is the hardest, I hope.)

Armed with both index cards in front of me, I just finished revising chapter one, and I love, love, love the changes I made!

Another great thing about index cards is I carry them in my purse for jotting down ideas wherever I may be. So until I get that iPad (dream on, Kate) it’s index cards for me.

– Kate

My 13-year-old is applying for a special art program at her school for next year. As part of her application, she has to draw a portrait. She’s been working hard every night, trying out different ideas and different materials. After she’s done with each one, she comes to find me and ask for my opinion.**And then she promptly gets mad when I don’t agree with her about which one is the best or if I make suggestions.

It’s not her fault. She’s young and hasn’t quite figured out a universal truth: Asking for Mom’s opinion isn’t a good idea for some of us. Shoot, I’m forty-something, have been a professional writer for twelve years, have nine published books and another coming out next year and I STILL can’t ask my mother for her opinion about anything I’ve written. I’m just too sensitive to any criticism or lack of enthusiasm she may have. In all fairness, my mom is not super critical or anything. I think it’s just a mom-daughter kind of thing. Or maybe simply a mother-child thing. My mother is also a professional artist so that might have something to do with it, too. (We creative folks have such sensitive egos!) I used to think it had to do with how much I value her opinion, but what’s weird is that I don’t have the same problem with my dad. I value his opinion just as much as my mother’s, but somehow, his critiques -which are frequently harsher – are easier to handle.

How about you? Are there any people in your life who you just can’t share your work with? If so, what is it about your relationship with them that keeps you from handling their feedback with a grain of salt?

**By the way, in case you haven’t guessed, my favorite picture is the one I’ve included here. My daughter wishes she could pull off a realistic portrait, but honestly, I just love her touch-of-Anima style!