How Books Are Made, Part I
"Hiccup" and "Toothless" from How to Train Your Dragon
Itstarts with a spark of creativity, a tiny seed of an idea that begins to takeroot and grow in a writer’s brain. At first, it’s easy to ignore the tenderlittle seedling trying to find purchase in a place already teeming with ideas.Those initial ideas definitely get overshadowed by projects that have alreadymade it from brain to keyboard (or yellow pad or sketchbook, in my case). I canpretty much guarantee that the majority of working writers have at least adozen ideas growing in addition to the three or four projects they’re workingon. I do.
Takethis post, for instance. The initial idea formed about a month ago. In thattime, I have jotted notes for the next blog post (and the one after that),finished and submitted three poems for publication, revised and submitted anessay for publication, worked my tail off to format a book for publication(more on that in the next post), and written countless journal pages. That’sjust the physical work I’ve put in. The extra ideas that haven’t been harvestedyet? They’re still growing in my brain. Some of them are really getting out ofcontrol in there….
Itstill amazes me to think how my published books came into being. In the 1970’s,I was teaching Lamaze childbirth classes, and my students felt the availablebooks were too technical. I was freelancing at the time, miraculously gettingpublished on a regular basis, and they suggested I write a book with all theinformation I dispensed in class, posed in less clinical terms than others hadused. I gave it some thought (and growth time), and two years later my firstbook was published.
WhenI began researching, at my mother’s request, the alleged crimes of hergrandmother, I knew eventually I had enough material for a pretty compellingmemoir. Many years later (when Mom would finally allow it), The Tainted Legacy of Bertha Gifford came into fruition.
The Dogs Who Saved Me came about during a long summer afternoon spentorganizing photographs. I had so many pictures of the various dogs I havecompanioned with, I realized there were enough to make an album of just dogsalone, and as I leafed through the finished project, considering all theirincredible stories, I knew I wanted to record them. That book took two years towrite.
Thisnext book—the one that I am just weeks away from seeing released on Amazon—didnot begin as a book idea or even a writing project. It began as a song. No. Itbegan with a cat that looked like a dragon. Or more accurately, a dragon thatlooked like a cat. Here is that story:
WhenI moved waaaay up to a cabin in the mountains, I took two black cats with me:Old guy Boo Radley and newly adopted Sugar Plum (aka “Sug”). Sadly, in mysecond year on the mountain, Boo died. Where Sug had previously bonded withBoo, now she began to bond with me in earnest. And it was cold in the wintermonths, so she would come to the loft at night, jump on the bed, and I wouldhold the blanket up for her to climb under and snuggle down. Often, in thedepth of darkness and quiet only a mountain retreat can offer, I would sing toher. In the beginning, I sang her “Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ral” and other sweet Irishsongs I had learned as a child.
Thenseveral things happened in succession. My dear friend and fellow author MichaelWelker (Blockbuster Blueprint) suggested I watch the animated featureHow to Train Your Dragon, mostly because he thought I’d love the soundtrack,which I did. (Loved the film, too; ya gotta love a rescuedcritter/underdog/unlikely love story/unlikely hero movie.) Sometime in theensuing days, I walked into the main room of the cabin to find little Sug faceto face at the French doors with an enormous black bear. Sug was standing herground, back arched, fur and tail puffed to maximum bigness, and hissing as shebared her teeth. She looked, in that moment, for all the world like a tinydragon. Later that night, as we hunkered down in bed, I began to hum a randomtune I’d come up with. Suddenly there were words for it:
Dragonsong is an old one
Singthe tale told so long
Dragonsong is an old one
Oldone, sing the dragon song.
Atsome point before this, I had attended a writers group meeting in which theguest speaker had noted, in suggesting ways to market one’s books, that thecreation of a series (rather than a stand-alone novel) brings readers backlooking for the next chapter in the saga. I had dismissed the idea at first.(Writing a series—keeping every detail of every character and plot point clearand correct throughout all the books—is much more challenging than writing asingle, all-encompassing story.)
Butthat night, singing this new song to my tiny cat who apparently had the spiritof a dragon abiding within her, a seed was planted.
Hardto believe that seed began to take root over a decade ago. Well, the originalidea became a book. (More on how that happened in the next post.)Originally, I had decided just three books—a compact trilogy—would do nicely.(No way would I attempt an on-going series, given all the other projects I wantto tackle.) But as I worked on the second book, I realized that the fourseasons had become a theme, so that now there are four books in what will be,when they are published, the Dragon Singer series. The books are writtenfor a middle-grade audience. Which means, I suppose, that any avid reader overthe age of say, eight, who loves cats and good dogs and dragons and music willprobably enjoy them.
DidI mention that the first one is nearly ready for release in a matter of weeks,if not days? Watch this space!
