Sharon Creech's Blog, page 25

Love That Dog: the Puppy

Remember the grandchildren's new puppy?  
He found a cozy basket retreat:
[image error]

Remember what puppies do?


They chew.

And they chew.
But you love them anyway, don't you?

Chipmunk and Agents

So, now a chipmunk has followed in the squirrel's footsteps and is watching me as I work.  When I aim the camera, it turns its head away slightly (as above), as if to deny that it has been spying.

A chipmunk has nothing to do with an agent, but a blog visitor asked on the last post if I have an agent, and the chipmunk is watching me compose an answer:

Yes, I have an agent and have had one since I wrote my first novel. When I lived in England, I had a British agent with an American representative; since I moved back to the States, I've had an American agent who has a British representative.

I've worked with my current agent for thirteen years, and I trust her completely, value her advice, and admire her talents. I rely on mine to sort out contracts and foreign rights, to provide sound analysis and judgement regarding major publishing questions, and to represent me with integrity.

I need an agent, but not everyone does.

The chipmunk is still watching . . .

Editor and Copy Editor

The squirrel is back, really interested in this new book I'm working on.  She sits there for up to ten minutes at a time, several times a day, turning her head this way and that, inching closer to get a better look, not at all afraid when I lift the camera to record her existence.

Several people have asked me to explain (per the last blog entry) the difference between editor and copy editor.  This will have nothing to do with squirrels.  The squirrel photos are merely to show you who is watching me as I am writing this post.


My editor is the one who first sees my newest book (usually my third or fourth draft). She gives me both a general impression and an in-depth analysis, including detailed notes on the book's strengths and weaknesses. She raises questions about large issues of depth and meaning and character. She gives me these comments on the phone, in a detailed letter, and on the manuscript itself.  It is up to me to think through all of her comments, resolve questions and submit revisions.  The editor will continue to oversee the manuscript's development and will coordinate all issues related to design and publication.

The copy-editor (whom I have never met) is someone who sees the manuscript after I've revised it and the editor has officially approved it. The copy-editor scours the manuscript, marking it for consistency of style and format (font, headings, spacing, bold, italic) and for accuracy. She will note discrepancies (different spelling of same name, miscalculation of dates or times or distances) and awkward repetitions or phrasings. It is up to me to resolve the discrepancies and smooth or eliminate the awkward bits.


Not all editors and copy editors work the same way, but this is the way mine work with me. I've had the same editor for the past fourteen years. We've developed a deep understanding of the way each of us thinks and works and this, I think, enriches the work we do together.

Revisions, Copy-Editing and all that Jazz

A Bigga Mess
Closing in on last tweaks before the book is set in galleys (pages that look like book pages.) Bigga mess on desk.  It has gone something like this, over the past two years:
Write several drafts, submit to editor, receive feedback; revise, resubmit, feedback, tweaking. Ms. 'approved' and goes to copy editor and then comes back to me with questions. Fix it, resubmit, a few more tweaks, off it goes again to be set in galleys.
[Meanwhile:  begin first draft of next book.]
Meanwhile:  talks with editor regarding cover art and interior art  (that begins shortly after editor first sees manuscript, and is ongoing until book is ready for publication.)
Next: first-pass galleys will arrive in a month or two and we'll all (me, editor, etc.) proofread.  Tweak. Fix.

While we're doing that, marketing and publicity and sales departments are ramping up with their expertise.
Then:  second-pass galleys arrive; proofread, tweak, fix.  
[Meanwhile: continue writing drafts of next book.]
Sometimes another final pass (of first book) comes to me.  
Final art arrives. 
Advance review copies are printed (up to four or five months in advance of publication).
[Finish next book drafts; submit to editor; receive feedback; revise .  . .]
About eleven months from now:  publication day of the book that's the bigga mess on desk above.
Ta da!
Soon I will disclose the . . . title.

Love That Girl, Love That Dog

Again: the photo says it all.
It needs no words. . . but it also inspires words. What is the story of this girl and this dog and this place?

Love that Boy, Love that Dog

What can I say?
I mean: really.
Did you have a dog when you were young? Do you have one now?

Focus

When students say, "I don't have anything to write about," I think What? What? Are you kidding? You just need to look closely at something. Anything at all. Your hand. An eye. A leaf. A mushroom. Just lean in and focus. . .


The strange, stunning, giant yellow mushroom in the photos here was in our yard this morning. I've never seen anything quite like it. Had to get down and look closely. Had to grab a ruler so you'd know I wasn't exaggerating.  Look underneath:




Incredible.

Of course, then I had to mess around . . .


'Night all.  May you dream of stunning yellow mushrooms, but don't be afraid . . .

Scenes

On the kitchen counter, this scene (above). There's a story there, many stories, yours for the telling.

When the grandchildren visit, we make up the story as we go along, like this:  "One day a grandmother was out in the mint forest and she came upon . . ."

There are scenes like this throughout the house. Must be a compulsion: to set up scenes and tell the stories, mm?

Anatomy of a Sunset

When I'm writing, I'm not aware of time passing and am surprised when I look up and see visible signs of that lapse.   I took this set of pics over the course of an hour while I was also writing. (The yellow globe in these photos is the reflection of the interior light, not an errant moon.)


The photos remind me of successive drafts of a work in progress: the layering and deepening of the story with each draft.


With care and luck, that final draft might be a thing of beauty, rich but subtle?

But then, that is for the reader to judge.

The Observer

Sometimes when I am writing, I'll pause to allow the next part of a scene to unroll in my mind. I look out the window, gaze at the lake.  Yesterday, I saw a groundhog sitting tranquilly in the yard, gazing at the lake. Was he, too, pausing in his work to let his thoughts realign? Or simply to contemplate the serene lake?

I thought about layers: I was watching the groundhog watching, much like I, the writer, observe my character, who is observing/thinking/acting.

Later in the day, I noticed the groundhog had turned around and seemed to be watching me.




Odd feeling, that.  Sometimes when I am well into a book, I get the eerie feeling that the main character has turned to me, as if to say, "Well, now what?"