A Visitor for Heather (Part 2)

A Vistitor For Bear by Bonny Becker (2008 Candlewick Press)

Where was I? Oh, yes, the mouse. That little rascal managed to wiggle his whiskers and twirl his tail a few times, but I wasn’t willing – ready -- to let him in for a visit. As a busy mom, I had other priorities and creative outlets: Making birthday cakes and bake sale treats, sewing Halloween costumes and home decorating projects, and photographing and recording our lives in scrapbooks. No days off. Unless you get food poisoning while five months pregnant with your third child. That’s when you thank God you still have a mom in your life who adores her grandchildren. Because your husband has to work and your kids don’t understand that Mommy is sick and Can. Not. Move. Off. The. Couch. Then you start to feel a little better and, in the quiet time while the children are off playing with their grandparents, you actually have a lucid moment when you remember something you told your aunt years ago: That toy needs his own story.

I am proud to say I come from creative genes. My paternal grandmother was an artist, and my grandfather was a musician. They bred three sons (one an architect) who all have/had amazing creative problem solving skills. My maternal grandmother was a baker, sewer, knitter, crocheter-extraordinare; and my grandfather loved writing about family history (he journaled every day). They bred two daughters and a son, all of whom are creative in their own right. My aunt and I share a love for children’s books. When her children were young (and long before stores sold plush toy characters as book companions), she began making them stuffed animal versions of their favorite story-book characters. Then she made them for her nieces (me!) and nephews. Then she designed a few of her own. She started her own business, selling her toys at craft fairs, a few stores, and to a fabric designer. As her biggest fan, we have a huge collection of Carolyn Cook Toys. I love them all, but there is one that I think is particularly unique. I told her I thought he needed his own story. 

Every Easter my pgm made & painted ceramic eggs for my sister and me.

One of my paternal grandmother's watercolors.

A crocheted doily and a knitted hat made by my maternal grandmother.

A few of the many stuffed toys made by my Aunt Carolyn. Recognize anyone?

So I remember this in the moments between barely-queasy-but-not-quite-able-to-get-off-the-couch-for-fear-of-falling-over and almost-normal-appearing-enough-so-the-kids-think-it’s-fine-to-jump-all-over-you, and I grab a pen and paper and start to write. I let the mouse in long enough to nibble some crumbs and then whisked him away again. But I didn’t bolt the door shut. I filed the story away and, somewhere along the line, began to keep a notebook. The visits from Mouse were brief and secretive. It was a hobby; a far-fetched dream. I had no real talent, and I could never compare to “professional” writers. But because I couldn’t seem to stop the ideas from popping into my head, I felt better when I wrote them down.

Meanwhile, my life as a stay-at-home mom took a surprising turn. Somewhat by accident, a friend learned that I could sew. I have been sewing since grade school, so to me, it’s just something I do. In my family, do-it-yourself was the norm. In fact, I didn’t know until late into childhood that you could hire people to do the things we always did (I was shocked one day after school when I saw a stranger attempting to repair our refrigerator). The thought of paying someone to make custom pillows or window treatments was a foreign to me. So when this friend saw my curtains and asked how much I would charge to make her some, I had no idea how to answer. I was shocked someone thought I possessed a talent worth payment, and I had no idea what to charge. I was also nervous. Sewing for my family was one thing, but for someone else? Yikes! 

From A Visitor For Bear by Bonny Becker (2008 Candlewick Press)

Well, this job turned into another and another, and before I knew it I had a small side business going. I even branched out and designed my own items, mostly using left-over trims and pieces of fabric from bigger projects. I learned how much to charge for my time and designs, where to get sewing supplies wholesale, how to create a website and Facebook page for my business, the ins and outs of record keeping and tax paying, and places to sell my wares beyond word-of-mouth. This was by no means a full-time job (I already had one of those taking care of five children), but it was a creative outlet that earned a little money on the side. Of course this was also another reason to muffle the mouse . . . .

From A Visitor For Bear by Bonny Becker (2008 Candlewick Press)

But all of this made me start to think: If other people thought I had creative sewing talent then maybe, just maybe, someone might think I had some creative writing talent. I did still have that notebook of disorganized thoughts, phrases, and the beginning of one story. I bought a book and did some research about the children’s writing industry. I revisited the story I wrote. It was bad. Really bad. But there was something about it I still thought could work. I revised. I allowed the mouse in for a secret snack every now and then and continued to write down more ideas as they came to me. And then, another accident.

Over the years, I’ve made several friends at my local gym. One of these friends was Nancy. Through weekly small talk before or after class, we grew to know each other a little. I can’t remember how it came up in conversation, but one day she mentioned that she was a children’s book writer and, after some time away, was getting back into it. For the first time out loud (to anyone other than immediate family), I told her I was too. I had found a writing buddy. She encouraged me to join SCBWI. I finally did. I attended my first local conference with her. She recommended I read Writing Picture Books by Ann Whitford Paul. I read it cover to cover. I shared a manuscript draft with her and she gave me an honest, insightful critique. I revised it.  I made that mouse wait a long time, but now I was ready to let him in for regular visits, and no longer in secret.

The visits were not necessarily frequent and I still had doubts, but the more involved I became in the kid lit world, the more I discovered what a wonderfully supportive world it was. I was in love. I attended more conferences, I read more books about the craft of children's literature, I joined a critique group, I shared my work with agents for critiques, I joined kid lit blogs and online challenges, I continued to read picture books, and I wrote. I wrote and revised and revised some more. I couldn’t bear for Mouse to leave and I couldn’t wait for his next visit. 

From A Visitor For Bear by Bonny Becker (2008 Candlewick Press)

I would like to tell you that, on one of his visits, Mouse brought a friend with him who loved my work and wanted to represent me. And that some of those stories I dreamed up became published books. But I can’t. Not yet. As I said, it took a long time just to let Mouse in, but I believe the timing wasn’t right then. And when Mouse’s agent or publisher friend comes for tea (or, hopefully, something in the form of chocolate), the timing will be right, and I will be ready. And I will have new visitors to tell you about in a Part 3. Stay tuned . . . .