A long while back I did a couple of posts on the character development for Ben and Ariel. I mentioned that I struggled over their ethnicity, and that a member of my children’s book group, a school librarian, lobbied that my characters be Asian, to be consistent with the origin of Centipede Dragon. I was reticent to this idea up until the point of my “Speak now…” moment, because of one key fact about the children’s book market: minority kid books don’t sell. Furthermore, I thought the universality of the message would be lost, for once I made the kids Asian my book would likely be categorized in the “Folklore/cultural” section, only sought after during the Lunar New Year by teachers wanting to talk about holidays of different races. You may think me paranoid, but since officially publishing, I have been told my book won’t sell because it’s a folktale. Uh, but it’s NOT a folktale!

Much as we like to think we live in a color-blind society, we do not. Parents make decisions for their young children, and each and every one of us is prone to biases of one stripe or another. Pre-conceived notions about the nature of the message in a book is heavily influenced by who wrote it and who it features. If it’s a book with Asian kids, the presumption is it must be about Asian culture, for it can’t simply be about a child who happens to BE a minority, facing a problem of being too smart or too short. The assumption is that the reason the kid is Asian is because the book is cultural. So, making my characters anything other than non-descript–in order to appeal to a broader market–seemed initially the wiser choice.

As I came to terms with forging my own path to publication, the reality of my legacy left with this book really and truly hit home. Why did I really choose to publish under my maiden name? Legacy, I had declared! But what about my legacy was I declaring?

Today I’m proud to be an Asian woman. I absolutely didn’t start out that way, having grown up in a suburb where racial slurs were hurled at me throughout middle/high schools. But finally having a better understanding of what it means to be Asian in a non-Asian society was hard to come by, because there were no positive models for me, in books or elsewhere.

I didn’t want to perpetuate the problem. I wanted to be part of the solution.

I have to say that I have a phenomenal support network, people who must really like me and believe in my creativity. If it weren’t for these people’s feedback and encouragement, I’m not sure how I’d feel about having gone down this self-publishing road. Because frankly I would’ve done it either way, but the sheer enthusiasm, positivity and cheerleading that all of you have done for me have tipped the scales toward the “Glad I did it” camp.

So I was at that fork in my road, and honestly was tired of waiting for someone else to “sanction” my work. So, one February day I mentally sallied forth, leaving my logical flow chart behind.

As far as this whole children’s book writing/illustrating process has gone to date, I shouldn’t have expected this stage to be any less convoluted. For instance, the “speak-now-or-forever-hold-peace” part of this decision was only just beginning. Issues began to burble up again: am I completely content with my content? Are there any last gaps in the way I’ve told the story? Was each and every design and illustration decision sound enough for me to look at in 5-10 years from now, and still feel OK about them?

This was the time to take a very sterile look at my work. If I were to pick this book up at a bookstore and thumb through it, what would I think were its weakest features? What would I suggest to the author to change?

By far the most difficult and most taxing change will be revealed in the next post. Can you guess what it was?

Some decisions are easy and others are hard. Some are critical and others, not. Am I in a beef or fish mood for dinner? Which software program should I devote a chunk of money and time to learning, that will get me my next job?

No matter what, decisions are always challenging in their own right. The cons may clearly outweigh the pros in some cases. But other factors, or pure instinct can sometimes count for double, triple, even quadruple points. And once you finally make your choice, any angst associated with it is gone, just like that...poof.

Looking back at my decision to self-publish, I won’t lie. I have questioned whether it was a good or poor one, depending on the current location of pendulum that are my emotions. But what is certain is that it is now permanently checked off my Life’s “To-do” List. I had an idea, created a story, illustrated said story, and like Geppetto, I made it real.

As I did more research into self-publishing, I was reassured that the process and its abominable reputation had improved greatly since first looking into it years ago, before I even finished Centipede Dragon. Countless “Indie” authors pushed hard and sacrificed much to see this transformation occur. Numerous organizations formed to help support these independents who were earnestly striving to produce good quality books on their own. And finally, established trade organizations began to recognize the contributions that the self-published were making.

I read a lot of reviews about which self-publishers were the “best.” I then went to their sites and read a lot of forums to understand what kinds of problems/limitations they encountered during the production process. These forums provided a wealth of collective experience that the pioneers of self-publishing generously shared. It was invaluable to know how others’ rated their experiences, and if issues occurred, how the company “resolved” them. There was so much to consider already, and so I wanted to anticipate as many hiccups ahead of time as was possible.

I began to contemplate that soon, if I went down this road, my book would be a permanent entity. And if there were any outstanding issues left, any holes in the story, inconsistencies in the characters, flaws in the drawings or layout, ANYTHING at all, I needed to address them now.

Maybe three months had gone by in between receiving the editor feedback and the germination of the self-publishing idea. I had a ton of doubts when it came to self-publishing, foremost was its abysmal reputation. Self-publishing could make anyone a published author, but frankly, not everyone should BE a published author. So with that great power came great abuse in the form of sloppy, un-edited, un-proofed work filled with type-o’s, mis-spelled words, incorrect grammar, and just plain bad writing, flooding the market. The tools these self-publishers offered to layout and design the book were also restrictive and frustrating, to put it kindly, but surprisingly many authors didn’t seem to care! Furthermore, the entire process was expensive. Hence the terrible reputation that the self-publishing industry earned had frankly been well-earned.

But that was also more than 5 years ago. A market filled with ill-quality product made consumers push back against the crap. It became fashionable again to print high-quality work.

Most importantly, aspiring authors who cared so much about their work, demanded from the self-publishing industry the offering of better tools and more options to pay for printing better quality books. To stay viable, some self-publishing companies complied, and further offered “comprehensive” services to edit, design and market a book.

This has been an incredible time in the industry, with factors like e-books, Amazon, and the dwindling marketing/advertising budgets offered by traditional publishing houses, radically changing the face of the industry as a whole.

For me, the most influential factor weighing in on MY decision of what to do next, was that I was stuck. And not moving on.

After my editor-feedback encounter, I decided to assess my situation. I had been submitting Centipede Dragon to publishing companies for two years without feedback for its rejection. I had tested the book out on my actual target audience with rave reviews in return. I had incorporated numerous suggested changes to both text and imagery from anyone willing to give me honest opinions. I had constantly striven to make the book the best it could be, to the best of MY capability. But the bottom line is, I’m not in publishing, and I don’t KNOW what it takes to make a successful book. What I had was a story and the desire to tell it. And no matter how much I read or how many conferences I attend, nothing substitutes for a real publishing experience.

I admit it, I don’t know what sells. I frankly thought a half-this, half-that creature would be a great hook, not to mention the magical thing. If I figured the insect-dragon thing could catch the boys while the strong, girl character Ariel character and sensitive nature of the story could hook the girls. But no one in the industry was seemingly agreeing. So, if no publishing expert will provide any specific direction, what do I do?

At this point, I was tired and frustrated. I almost wished for blunt feedback:

            “Look, your story is boring and predictable.”

            “Your illustrations reveal your deficits in artistic training.”

I wanted a clue, a sign that would signal me to just let it go.

In the course of my many searches for traditional publishers to submit to, a whole host of self-publishers kept cropping up along with them. E-publishers like Smashwords were being profiled on NPR’s “All Things Considered” as the leader in the next generation of publishing, and so this tiny seed of an idea sprouted to mind. I had not considered self-publishing to this point, but was the time to look into it now?

One of the great benefits of being an SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book writers and Illustrators) member is the myriad of opportunities to meet editors, agents, published authors and aspiring authors at conferences. You have the chance to tell them about yourself, and what your dream idea is. You see their eyes light up when you tell them what you have been working on. And most of all, they see you as someone truly serious about becoming published, simply because you are there.

I had one such opportunity to e-mail my book in its entirety to a senior editor of a well-known company. In the accompanying e-mail I extolled its virtues as per usual, and two weeks later this editor wrote back:

“I love your vivid and creative artwork, but I'm afraid this work is not quite right for my list […]. I wish I could give you more specific feedback but the tremendous number of stories that I receive […] make that difficult.”

So…what does this mean? The first part sounds good, positive, right? Then it’s followed by the rejection.

Looking back at that flow chart from the last post, the negative feedback arrow leads back to “Content edit the book.” Can YOU figure out from the editor’s response what I should edit? Am I editing: the character development, the plot’s set-up or its resolution? What if I edit out what she considered to be the very best passage? What if I unknowingly delete her favorite image thinking it was the weakest one? Did she like or dislike the cheeky sheep? So, how do I improve the work in this vacuum of non-criticism and non-direction?

My flow chart has failed me in today’s publishing industry. So what’s an aspiring author/illustrator to do?

As an illustrator, I often rely on imagery to help me convey what I am trying to do via words. Though I LOVE to write, it does NOT come naturally and therefore I struggle with it, draft after draft after agonizing draft. In contrast, illustrations are constantly popping into my head at all hours of the day and night, and sometimes I can’t draw fast enough to keep up.

So, I created this visual flow chart to demonstrate the repetitive nature of my book publishing process experience. What the take-home point is, is that re-editing content, re-copy-editing, re-writing and re-illustrating happens over and over as we creative persons try to assess what might NOT have been working with our manuscripts and illustrations, that garnered the latest rejection. Of course there are phenoms like Oliver Jeffers who send out to the top ten publishing companies and get the acceptance in the first round. I’m the first to acknowledge his genius in both storytelling and illustrating, but also to say that there are many other talented authors out there who frankly don’t experience this process in that way.

So when the time comes for you to enter this loop, always keep in mind that it’s all about faith in your work, faith in your message and faith in yourself.

Here is our second featured science book for kids:
"You are Stardust," written by Elin Kelsey, artwork by Soyeon Kim.

Elin Kelsey is a Ph.D. in environmental science education and created this book as a jump-off point for teachers, providing lesson plans that integrate the common core standards of learning with activities centering on statements made in this book.

The artwork is NOT the typical illustrations you'd expect in a picture book. Rather, they are photographs of elaborate, multimedia dioramas that frankly blow this book far and away from others.

This book is an ode to how we are intricately connected to the fabric of the Earth. Through its framework we follow particles from the big bang through to the arrival of our existence on Earth, meandering along poetic stanzas that weave scientific facts into the explanation of the singularity of the our planet's ecosystem.

But the innovative beauty of the artwork makes this book special. I fervently wished they had published this book in pop-up form.

I hope I don't bore you by re-capping these events, but I like to highlight the fantastically creative kids who attend! For this particular occasion, I was attempting a new format for the Magical Scale Challenge for two reasons: 1) Since the kids were eager to play the game at my previous event, I figured I should let them play (and make them do all the work), and 2) I didn’t have a large white-board at my disposal that I need if I am to perform the challenges.

With kids, you really just need to show them once, and then, they bring their own flair. After all the times I have performed this challenge, I was floored by the unique perspective they brought to each word challenge, and by their desire to add rules to make the game more challenging.

The biggest surprise came with the challenge “hat.” Lily, one of my older competitors, was doing a fine job with the décor she was adding to her hat. But I kept looking at the bottom of her board and wondering why she wasn’t closing up that bottom edge of the hat. After all, the brim has a bottom edge, right?

You see from the picture just WHY she didn’t close it up. She also made up rules as she went along, and so next time, watch out. This game is simply NOT just for kids anymore.

Thanks to my friend Gretchen and to James of the Mount Vernon Park Association, who helped organize this event.