I am pleased to announce that I am now offering a critique service for picture book manuscripts. For the past year I have been a volunteer judge at Rate Your Story, critiquing three or four picture book manuscripts per month, using their rating system. Of course there is usually so much more I would like to tell the writers, but I'm limited to the Rate Your Story system. With my professional critiques I'll be able to give a much more detailed response.
My second gig, as a children's librarian, is also helpful in giving critiques. I have read literally thousands of children's books and keep up with the current titles. Reading is second only to writing daily as a necessity for a writer. Sadly, it's often obvious when reading a manuscript that the writer really has no understanding of children's picture books, probably because they haven't read enough. So in some cases I'll be recommending a reading list too.
If you're interested, you can read more about it at my website, www.pamelamayer.com.
Click on Critique Service on the left hand side.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
FOOD II
In my last blog, I wrote about a picky eater. Today I'll write about another of my characters, Dorcas Cummings, who longs for "something good to eat". The only child of brilliant inventors, Mr. and Mrs. Cummings are more interested in their fleet of robots than they are in Dorcas. They feed her health foods, green milkshakes, kale, sardines and soybeans. But sometimes children ought to have a cookie!
Like my picky eater, Dorcas is another side of the same coin, that is, food obsession.
Is it any wonder I am food obsessed? It seems most people who live in the San Francisco Bay Area are. New fantastic restaurants open in San Francisco on a weekly basis. All types of ethic cuisines are represented. Every town has a farmer's market, food trucks and specialty food shops. Add to that list artisan chocolates, coffee, craft beers and cocktails. Like tech, food is a part of the culture around here.
Actually it didn't just start there for me. My grandmother was a fabulous cook. She was "old country", none of her recipes were written down, she had learned to cook by watching her mother. Grandma made so many wonderful desserts, cakes, cookies, strudels, homemade noodles, wonderful soups and chicken. She loved to invite the entire extended family over for a feast and would give everyone a "care" package to take home, enough food for dinner the next day.
When my daughters were small, serving nutritious food seemed like a large part of the job of "mom" to me. They liked to pretend that our kitchen was a restaurant called The Sunshine Cafe.I had a chalkboard on the wall where they would write out each night's dinner menu. They are both excellent cooks now.
Of course food has always been important in children's books. As a child, I remember longing to taste the foods the characters in books I read were eating. Treacle and toffee in British children's books sounded particularly enticing. I wanted to know how hardtack and salt pork tasted. Food is not only taste of course, it's smell and texture, all those sensory details which make writing, like one's palate, come alive.
You are what you eat, which seems especially true when creating a character.
In my last blog, I wrote about a picky eater. Today I'll write about another of my characters, Dorcas Cummings, who longs for "something good to eat". The only child of brilliant inventors, Mr. and Mrs. Cummings are more interested in their fleet of robots than they are in Dorcas. They feed her health foods, green milkshakes, kale, sardines and soybeans. But sometimes children ought to have a cookie!
Like my picky eater, Dorcas is another side of the same coin, that is, food obsession.
Is it any wonder I am food obsessed? It seems most people who live in the San Francisco Bay Area are. New fantastic restaurants open in San Francisco on a weekly basis. All types of ethic cuisines are represented. Every town has a farmer's market, food trucks and specialty food shops. Add to that list artisan chocolates, coffee, craft beers and cocktails. Like tech, food is a part of the culture around here.
Actually it didn't just start there for me. My grandmother was a fabulous cook. She was "old country", none of her recipes were written down, she had learned to cook by watching her mother. Grandma made so many wonderful desserts, cakes, cookies, strudels, homemade noodles, wonderful soups and chicken. She loved to invite the entire extended family over for a feast and would give everyone a "care" package to take home, enough food for dinner the next day.
When my daughters were small, serving nutritious food seemed like a large part of the job of "mom" to me. They liked to pretend that our kitchen was a restaurant called The Sunshine Cafe.I had a chalkboard on the wall where they would write out each night's dinner menu. They are both excellent cooks now.
Of course food has always been important in children's books. As a child, I remember longing to taste the foods the characters in books I read were eating. Treacle and toffee in British children's books sounded particularly enticing. I wanted to know how hardtack and salt pork tasted. Food is not only taste of course, it's smell and texture, all those sensory details which make writing, like one's palate, come alive.
You are what you eat, which seems especially true when creating a character.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
FOOD I
I've been thinking about creating a character who is a picky eater. So it got me thinking about the foods I disliked as a child, like runny eggs and lima beans.
Or the revolting foods my parents ate, Tripe, Calves' Liver, Limburger Cheese, Pickled Pigs' Feet, Sweetbreads, Tongue.
With the exception of the eggs, I still wouldn't eat any of the above.
When I was in high school I participated in a program called The Experiment In International Living. I stayed with a family in Limoges, France. The Experiment instilled in us the importance of using proper French table manners, and of eating everything we were served. Although I loved my French family dearly, there were certain foods I could not bring myself to even taste - ox brains (the texture), raw horsemeat (they loved it with buttered bread), pate tete de chochon (head of pig, 'nuff said), rabbit (sorry, but no).
If I were served these foods today, I still wouldn't taste them. And I don't have a hankering for raw oysters or escargot either.
I've always considered myself to be a person who is open to new foods and eats everything. But I now realize the truth.
I am a picky eater!
Or the revolting foods my parents ate, Tripe, Calves' Liver, Limburger Cheese, Pickled Pigs' Feet, Sweetbreads, Tongue.
With the exception of the eggs, I still wouldn't eat any of the above.
When I was in high school I participated in a program called The Experiment In International Living. I stayed with a family in Limoges, France. The Experiment instilled in us the importance of using proper French table manners, and of eating everything we were served. Although I loved my French family dearly, there were certain foods I could not bring myself to even taste - ox brains (the texture), raw horsemeat (they loved it with buttered bread), pate tete de chochon (head of pig, 'nuff said), rabbit (sorry, but no).
If I were served these foods today, I still wouldn't taste them. And I don't have a hankering for raw oysters or escargot either.
I've always considered myself to be a person who is open to new foods and eats everything. But I now realize the truth.
I am a picky eater!
Sunday, February 8, 2015
OLD MOTHER WEST WIND
The first book I remember loving was Old Mother West Wind by Thornton Burgess. Long after I read it, whenever I went to the public library, I would walk by the shelf where it sat and look at it, as if I were visiting an old friend. I doubt many children read it nowadays, and even whether it is part of many library collections.
It's the same with my mother's favorite childhood book. She loved The Water Babies by Charles Kingsley. I read it at her insistence as a child, but not with the same passion for it that she had. My daughters didn't read it, and I'm certain modern children don't know much about it.
I wonder if it will be the same with the favorite books of my daughters' childhoods. Stonewords by Pam Conrad was Rebecca's favorite, and Bridge to Terebithia by Katherine Paterson was Amy's.
Fortunately certain classic books have survived, Peter Pan, Little Women, The Wind in the Willows, Mary Poppins. They are on the library's shelves, although I'm not certain they are read, even as a family read aloud. Just yesterday, a woman asked me for Peter Pan. I was so thrilled that she wanted to read it to her daughter I practically pranced to the shelf.
Then I handed her the book.
"Oh, no," she said, looking at it. "She's only five."
"That will be fine," I said. "I think she will enjoy your reading it to her."
"Don't you have a children's version?"
"This is a book for children," I said, wanting to remind her that she was standing in the children's section of the library, after all!
"Well, I mean like abridged, or like by Walt Disney or something."
THAT WOULD NOT BE PETER PAN! Is what I wanted to scream at her. Of course, I couldn't.
"No, we don't have anything like that," I said. I took the book back, giving it a little squeeze to remind it that it was still loved.
Are old books like abandoned toys, desperately wanting a child to love them again?
It's the same with my mother's favorite childhood book. She loved The Water Babies by Charles Kingsley. I read it at her insistence as a child, but not with the same passion for it that she had. My daughters didn't read it, and I'm certain modern children don't know much about it.
I wonder if it will be the same with the favorite books of my daughters' childhoods. Stonewords by Pam Conrad was Rebecca's favorite, and Bridge to Terebithia by Katherine Paterson was Amy's.
Fortunately certain classic books have survived, Peter Pan, Little Women, The Wind in the Willows, Mary Poppins. They are on the library's shelves, although I'm not certain they are read, even as a family read aloud. Just yesterday, a woman asked me for Peter Pan. I was so thrilled that she wanted to read it to her daughter I practically pranced to the shelf.
Then I handed her the book.
"Oh, no," she said, looking at it. "She's only five."
"That will be fine," I said. "I think she will enjoy your reading it to her."
"Don't you have a children's version?"
"This is a book for children," I said, wanting to remind her that she was standing in the children's section of the library, after all!
"Well, I mean like abridged, or like by Walt Disney or something."
THAT WOULD NOT BE PETER PAN! Is what I wanted to scream at her. Of course, I couldn't.
"No, we don't have anything like that," I said. I took the book back, giving it a little squeeze to remind it that it was still loved.
Are old books like abandoned toys, desperately wanting a child to love them again?
Thursday, February 5, 2015
THE PINK MAPLE HOUSE
I've been writing a series of early literacy tips for the library's facebook page. This week's was about having a Family Book Club, and it brought me back to a happy memory of my mother. Long before it was fashionable, back in my childhood, my mother and I had our own book club. I would read a book, she would read it too, then we would sit together to discuss it. It was fun, not only because I liked to read, but because she liked to read too. Her reading the same books as me let me know that they were important and good and they mattered.
The book I remember us disagreeing about was called The Pink Maple House. I don't remember much about it, apart from the cover being pink, and the story being so sweet it made me gag. But my mother loved it and couldn't understand why I didn't.
It's an old book, published in 1950, but available at ABE, and through World Cat, although not in our library system. Perhaps I'll get a copy to see if all of these years later I still find it too saccharine, or if I now agree with my mother about The Pink Maple House.
The book I remember us disagreeing about was called The Pink Maple House. I don't remember much about it, apart from the cover being pink, and the story being so sweet it made me gag. But my mother loved it and couldn't understand why I didn't.
It's an old book, published in 1950, but available at ABE, and through World Cat, although not in our library system. Perhaps I'll get a copy to see if all of these years later I still find it too saccharine, or if I now agree with my mother about The Pink Maple House.
Hooray for Books!
Congratulations to the winners of all of the children's book awards. With so many wonderful titles this year, I'm sure it was hard to choose!
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Missing
Every other Saturday I work at the Hillsdale Branch of the San Mateo Public Library.
Each time I've worked there, an older couple comes in who intrigue me. He is silver
haired, slight, with a boyish grin. She is silver haired as well, but exotic, with an accent
and a chic wardrobe. They pick out books and films together, commenting on favorites,
and help each other withcheck out. I always wonder about them, where they met, how
long they have known each other, are they friends or is it more romantic. I can imagine
a younger version of the man carrying her books home from school.
But last week he came alone! Where was she? Was she on a vacation with her
children, visiting family, at a ladies luncheon? How could he come to the library without
her! As I judge their ages to be somewhere in their late eighties, there were other
possibilities for her absence as well, but I didn't want to go there. Since I've only spoken
to them once, when I placed a hold on a book, I couldn't ask.
So I'll have to wait two weeks to see if they come back together! I hope so. This is
what comes of observing people - and being slightly bored at the reference desk!
I'm reminded of a wonderful new book I'd like to recommend entitled, Elizabeth Is
Missing by Emma Healey. It's a mystery, the main character and sleuth suffers from
dementia. Seeing the world through her eyes is so interesting.
Each time I've worked there, an older couple comes in who intrigue me. He is silver
haired, slight, with a boyish grin. She is silver haired as well, but exotic, with an accent
and a chic wardrobe. They pick out books and films together, commenting on favorites,
and help each other withcheck out. I always wonder about them, where they met, how
long they have known each other, are they friends or is it more romantic. I can imagine
a younger version of the man carrying her books home from school.
But last week he came alone! Where was she? Was she on a vacation with her
children, visiting family, at a ladies luncheon? How could he come to the library without
her! As I judge their ages to be somewhere in their late eighties, there were other
possibilities for her absence as well, but I didn't want to go there. Since I've only spoken
to them once, when I placed a hold on a book, I couldn't ask.
So I'll have to wait two weeks to see if they come back together! I hope so. This is
what comes of observing people - and being slightly bored at the reference desk!
I'm reminded of a wonderful new book I'd like to recommend entitled, Elizabeth Is
Missing by Emma Healey. It's a mystery, the main character and sleuth suffers from
dementia. Seeing the world through her eyes is so interesting.
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