I'm still trying to digest the mysterious writing of picture books.  Most weeks, I pick up a stack from the library to study and I'm slowly compiling a list of favorites.  I usually choose books based on recommendations but sometimes inspiration comes from unconventional places. Like a recent Jeopary show, when the answer to a clue was "What is Olivia?" Olivia, in case you're a picture book deprived soul, is Ian Falconer's hysterical piglet. She embodies a somewhat pampered, self-absorbed young girl with a short attention span. Olivia manipulates her younger brothers when she needs instruments for her one-man band, tortures her parents when her favorite toy goes missing and quickly forgives the dog for chewing it up. In other words, Olivia' a pretty normal six-year-old girl.

Maybe because I 've never had a child to read to, the picture books I'm drawn to offer humor adults can relate to. It's hard not to laugh at Falconer's illustrations, rendered in simple lines and minimal color. He expertly captures the expressions of bewildered parents and a fierce, imaginative child. In Olivia and the Missing Toy, Olivia begs for a new soccer shirt. Her mother spends the day sewing it, tormented by Olivia's impatience to have it done. When her mother finally presents the shirt, Olivia is too enthralled in a book to look up at the forgotten shirt.

There are ten Olivia books, including the original Olivia, a Caldecott Honor book. I'd like to have them all and I'd like to personally thank Falconer for his piglet. To read more about Olivia and Falconer, visit his website here. You can also catch Olivia's animated series on Nick, Jr.

Spring's here, no doubt. The azaleas are blooming and bees buzzing, oak pollen turning cars green. All that activity woke my muse from her long winter nap, ending an excruciating dry spell. She's granted me three picture book stories and rough sketches for a dummy book. While attempting to resurrect last year's novel, the protaganist of my very first book appeared. I listened to her telling her story in my head for a week and finally gave her the floor.

That's the thing about stories. You can't always control them. I considered my first book a learning experience and wasn't sure I'd ever revisit it. But here it is revived. I spent a week digesting the original's weak plot and passive protaganist and brainstorming new material. Chapter one is roughly written and the story's unfolding bit by bit. There's so little of the first book in it, they're barely related.

Picture books aren't docile either. Once you step into that realm, ideas for new stories multiply.  I've been working on a dog book for kidlitart's dummy book challenge. Last weekend, a new story popped up and wrote itself in one day. I thought, maybe I should illustrate this story instead. New stories always seem shinier than old ones. They glow with potential, especially since no one else has seen them.  Then you take them to critique and before you even get there, doubt dulls their finish.  Afterwards, no matter how high the praise, you know that story won't shine again without lots of polish.

But I'm not complaining. I'm happy to have something to polish and I'm learning to accept the mercurial fountain that springs stories to life, grateful for the words that come.

I've entered the second week of the sixteen-week dummy book challenge on kidlitart. We started last week by brainstorming story ideas. I already knew my subject, a terrier puppy, but what was she up to in this picture book? I envisoned her leaving her mother and going to a new home. How would she deal with it? What was her goal and what obstacles would she overcome in roughly twenty-eight pages, 500 words or less? During the week, I ran ideas past my husband and eventually, the story jelled.

Our assignment this week is to create the first draft so yesterday, I siphoned the story from my head through computer keys to a file. But the visual part of me wasn't satisfied with that and I'm betting I wasn't the only artist crafting scenes in my head. Tomorrow, I'll start thumbnail sketches. I'd like to have a rough storyboard to present for critique next week . . . if I'm accepted back to the PB&J group. I'm still waiting to hear. There's a tiny person pacing in my head! I sent the request last week when PB&Jers were preparing to leave for the SCBWI conference in Miami. Not the best timing. Rob Sanders, the group leader is posting about the event all week on his blog, Picture This! He's a fantastic motivator, never failing to inspire and lift spirits.

It's good to start the year with a new project. Your mind hums with possibilities . . . that the story will blossom and the sketches turn into memorable art. That phrase "Don't get your hopes up" was never meant for writers. Writers hope every story they start will soar. Unpublished writers hope agents and editors will see the potential in their books. Published writers hope readers will love their characters and get lost in their stories. I hope for the confidence to finish this book.

I'm not a person who handles creative productivity slumps well. So, with my latest novel project stalled, I turned to a picture book I'd written. The text could be improved but what it really needed was art. After a week of uninspired drawing, I headed to the library for resource material and came home empty handed. How is it that two local libraries lack books on Louisiana?
 
I'm trying really hard not to panic about the absence of my artist self. She'll come back. She has to come back. Art's been a vital part of my life since toddlerhood. I can't imagine my life without it. I thought back to those early years when horses ruled my drawing. Eventually, I added dogs and people to my portfolio. An idea surfaced. Why not go back to the subjects I loved to draw the most, horses and dogs, find the joy art used to bring me before it became a job.

I immediately knew the story I would write about a very special dog who grew up with a horse trainer. But I also knew I needed support. I've tried to go it alone the last few months and it just doesn't work for me. The January news from Florida SCBWI mentioned the Dummy Book Challenge, a guided sixteen-week process from story idea to finished dummy at kidlitart . I signed up before doubt interfered. Then I emailed Rob, the leader of my old picture book group, asking if they had room for one more. I'm waiting on their reply. Next step, gathering photos of my subject, who is now deceased. I don't have many but I know the ones I have will make me smile and I'm hoping . . . praying, that they make my fingers itch for a pencil and paper.