Hi everyone! I’ve been getting a lot of questions regarding writing children’s books lately so I thought I’d put up this previous post. It’s a question I got from a reader and the answer I sent her, with some resources. Enjoy!

Richele asked:

Genny,

I saw that you are a writer. I have a children’s book I am working on. Can I ask you about how you get an illustrator? Do you find one or does the publisher handle that aspect? Also, do I need a literary agent to get a book published?

I am trying to make my way in the writing world!

Thanks!

Richele
My answer:

Hi Richele,

Good for you for pursuing writing for children! I’d recommend going to www.scbwi.org then clicking on the lower right corner where it says “Just Getting Started.” SCBWI stands for the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators and the organization is a great resource. There are a lot of documents on the website that can help you, such as the Top Ten FAQ in Children’s Publishing.

And a quick answer to your questions: the editor at the publishing house is the one who finds the illustrator for your work, and, no you don’t need an agent to get published, though many publishing houses only accept submissions through agents.

Thanks for letting me share your question, Richele!

If anyone else is interested in learning more about writing for children, I have a bunch of writing resources listed here at my site under the Tips/Resources tab. Just click on Writing Resources. I also recommend clicking over to the site I refer to above, http://www.scbwi.org/. You’ll find a lot more detail about things like the submission process, whether or not to get an agent, and how to format your manuscripts.

I’ve been involved with SCBWI for years and was an Assistant Regional Advisor up until this past year. Not only is it a wonderful group of people (at our last conference in Rocklin, CA someone commented that children’s writers are the nicest demographic in the world!), but by getting involved, you’ll learn more about the industry and the publishing process, and you’ll be able to network with other writers / illustrators. It’s an international organization, with chapters all over the world.

I hope this helps! If you have any additional questions, feel free to email me. I just may post your email and my answer here!

Related post:

So you want to be a writer?

Words.

They can create a sense of belonging…

They can remind us of priorities…

They can encourage…

They can calm…

They can soothe…

They can increase faith…

And they can inspire...

These are just some of the words in our house (that help me remember how important words are!).

Related posts:

Three things our kids need to hear us say – Week 1

Three things our kids need to hear us say – Week 2

Three things our kids need to hear us say – Week 3

Five things our kids shouldn’t hear us say
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Thanks for stopping by for Mom-Monday – a day for mom-stories, tips, articles and inspiration. To join in, all you have to do is add your URL to the link list below and put my button anywhere on your site. It’s as simple as that; no post necessary. Just an easy way for moms to connect with other moms!

I’m excited to be speaking at MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) today and talking about The Dreaming Mom – Soaring to New Heights. It’ll be great to spend the morning with so many moms!

(And since I’ll be at a MOPS meeting, I thought I’d put up one of my old posts from when I used to be a mentor mom coordinator)…

And I realized all over again how fast time flies

Last Thursday, at our MOPS meeting, I sat next to a mom and her four-month-old daughter.

The baby was as sweet as ever–smiling, pulling on her bib, looking around the room with wide eyes.

When she started to get a little restless, I offered to take her and walk her around so the mom could relax and listen to the guest speaker.

It had been a while since I’d held a little one like that.

I’d forgotten how tiny hands and feet can be.

And I realized all over again how fast time flies…

It seems like just yesterday my eight-year-old and ten-year-old were babies, too.

I remember marveling at each new thing they did–their first smiles, their first words, their first steps.

I remember the nights I’d rock them to sleep, singing and praying, with tears in my eyes from the gratefulness I felt.

I remember feeling scared, too, hoping I’d be a good mom. There were questions and uncertainties and “what ifs” that I worried about. There were temper tantrums and sleepless nights and days I thought I’d never get a minute to myself.

When you have kids, everyone always tells you to enjoy each moment because time flies.

And even though it sounds cliche’, the more time that passes, the more I realize it’s true.

One minute you have a baby and the next minute, you’re getting ready to send her off to kindergarten. Or middle school. Or college.

So if you’re in that place of feeling frustrated or overwhelmed by the responsibilities of motherhood, if you’re exhausted from toddlers constantly tugging at your legs, or if you’re counting the days until your babies get older so they can be more self sufficient, be encouraged…

Kids grow up, and the demands for diaper changes and bottles and constant attention go away.

But so do the moments of holding them in your arms and rocking them to sleep,

of seeing them take their first steps,

of hearing them say, “Mama” for the first time.

So while you’re waiting for those little ones to get older, go hug them.

And rock them.

And take plenty of pictures and videos.

Savor every moment.

Because time does fly.

It really does.

What about you? If you have kids, what ages are they? Are you looking forward to them getting older or do you wish they wouldn’t grow up so fast?

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I’m posting my embarrasing story of my Valentine’s Day breakdown again. I hope you all have a day filled with laughter and love!

My Valentine’s Day Breakdown

Valentine’s Day blew in with storm clouds the year the breakdown happened.

In spite of the rainy morning that hinted things might be less than perfect that day, the promise of a cozy night with Mike had me cheerily oblivious. He was coming home from work early and I was looking forward to a romantic dinner.

Our “date” was just a few hours away when I headed out to finish some last-minute errands.

I made my way through the grocery store, carefully choosing the ingredients for dinner: pasta, fresh baked bread, ripe tomatoes, red bell peppers… My mouth watered at the thought of homemade pasta sauce, garlic bread, and salad.

My last stop after the store was our car insurance office. I grabbed some paperwork and hurried back to the parking lot, eager to get home and start cooking.

I climbed in my car, threw my purse on the seat, and started the engine. Music on, heater blasting, and a smile on my face, I drove down the hill toward the four-way intersection ahead.

The light turned red, and I stopped. And when it turned green and I put my foot on the gas, nothing happened.

I pushed the pedal again.

The engine got louder–almost like a leaf blower–but my car didn’t move.

The truck behind me loomed in my rearview mirror.

I reached to turn my hazard lights on, but my car was a new SUV and I wasn’t used to the dashboard. I scanned the buttons, trying to figure out which button was which.

Honk!

I was holding up traffic and people were getting impatient.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I found the hazard lights then rolled down my window and tried to wave cars past. The traffic slowly adjusted to a new beat as everyone found their way around me.

Meanwhile, inside my car, I tried everything I could think of…

Keys in, keys out.

Engine on, engine off.

Turn the dials.

Push the buttons…

I couldn’t figure out why the engine worked, but my car wouldn’t move. I was frustrated that a new car could breakdown like that. And the ironic thing was, I sat there stalled in an intersection just a block away from the California State Automobile Association–our insurance company, but also the company we get roadside assistance from.

I debated: should I get out and walk to the office instead of calling a tow truck?

The rain had started to come down, so I decided to stay put and call instead. I reached to get my purse. It had fallen on the floor. I leaned over, dug through it, grabbed my wallet out to get the number, and called.

A tow truck would be there in forty-five minutes or so.

Silently, I said goodbye–goodbye to a romantic Valentine’s Day dinner, goodbye to being home when Mike got there early, and goodbye to the groceries in the back of my car… the cold cheese getting warm, the warm bread getting cold, and the vegetables wilting.

After a long wait, help finally arrived in the form of a blue and yellow AAA tow truck. A man got out and quickly ran through the rain to my car.

“What seems to be the trouble?” he asked, ducking his head inside the hood of his rain gear.

I told him what happened.

He nodded and asked, “Do you mind if I try starting it?”

“I’ve already tried it a bunch of times,” I insisted, wanting to save him the effort. “It’ll turn on, but it won’t go anywhere.”

“I’ll see what I can figure out,” he said. I got out of the driver’s side and he got in. He turned the engine on, then off, then on again. Just like I had already done.

He stepped on the gas. My car made a loud WHIRRRRR. Just like it had done with me.

Then he leaned over and fidgeted with something. I waited, cold and shivering, just wanting to get in the tow truck and get home.

Suddenly, my car moved forward.

“Did you fix it?!” I was relieved and instantly impressed.

He cleared his throat and smiled.

And in a gentle voice, he explained, “Your four-wheel drive lever on the floor was shifted into neutral, Ma’am. Your purse was sitting on it. It must’ve fallen and moved it. You’re good to go now.”

Blood rushed to my face.

I’d been sitting stuck in an intersection for an hour holding up traffic, thinking my car had broken down, and the whole time I had been IN NEUTRAL?

I thanked the man profusely and slid—no, ducked—back into my car. Then I sped away, sitting so low in my seat I could barely see over the steering wheel. About a block later, I sat up and called Mike.

We had good laugh when I told him what happened.

He couldn’t believe it.

(Or, actually, he could.)

But it all ended up working out fine.

The groceries weathered the hour, and our Valentine’s date turned out great in spite of the slight delay.

And the whole thing gave me a pretty funny story to tell. (Whenever we drive through that intersection, the kids still say, “Is this the place you broke down even though you didn’t really break down, Mom?”)

So what are you doing for Valentine’s Day? We have an indoor soccer game tonight – very romantic – so we celebrated last night with a nice dinner. Fun!

I grab my purse off the counter and hurry toward the door.

“Wait,” my ten-year-old says, coming down the stairs, a flashlight in his hands. “I’ve gotta show you something.”

His eyes are bright and he’s smiling.

We’re running late for church, but he’s barefoot and his hair isn’t brushed yet.

“I’ll meet you guys in the car,” my daughter calls from the other side of the house, the garage door slamming behind her.

“Look, Mom.” My son holds the flashlight up to my face. “See the light bulb in there?” He pushes it closer.

I nod.

“Did you know that regular light bulbs lose about 90% of their light in that little wire they’re made with?” he asks.

Right away, I want to stop him.

I want to tell him that we’re running late and we’ve got to get in the car (because I know him, and I know this is going to take more than a minute). I want to hurry him out the door and promise that we can talk about light bulbs later.

But I see the enthusiasm in his face and it’s almost like God puts a clamp on my mouth and whispers to my heart,

This matters, Genny.

This matters.

So instead, “That’s interesting,” I say.

He nods and smiles. “Yeah. And florescent light bulbs only lose about 60% of their light because they’re made with a special gas instead of a wire.” (He’d just gone on a field trip the week before and evidently learned a lot.)

“Wow.” I act as excited as I can.

Mike comes in the kitchen, sets his coffee cup in the sink and gives me a knowing look.

“And guess what else?” my son continues.

“What?” I try my hardest to be patient.

“An LED light bulb only loses about 2% of its energy. It’s the best one of all.” He beams. It’s like he just discovered gold.

“That’s great,” I say. “Thanks for sharing.” I give him a big hug.

“Yeah,” he says proudly. Then he sets his flashlight on the table and runs to get his socks and shoes.

Mike grabs the car keys and comes over to me. “Thanks,” he whispers. “I know that was hard for you because we’re late, but that was important to him.”

And he was right; it was important.

Even though we environmentally conscious and we have plenty of energy efficient light bulbs in our house, the details about them don’t interest me. I’m just happy to know they save energy.

But the details do interest my son.

And how would he feel if someday he wants to be an electrical engineer or work in the field of energy conservation, and he thinks back and remembers that one morning he was tyring to explain something to his mom,

and she didn’t have time to listen?

She didn’t care.

Would he decide it’s a stupid interest?

Not important?

Not worthwhile?…

That’s the last thing I’d want.

And so that conversation,

that morning,

reminded me that even when we don’t feel like we have time to listen,

we should make the time.

Because that tiny sacrifice

could be the very thing

that gives our kids the confidence

to pursue the career or interest later in life that makes them the happiest and that they are most passionate about.

And that’s what we want for them,

isn’t it?

*post previously published, 2011

What about you? Have you had any of these types of “light bulb” moments as a parent?
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Thanks for stopping by for Mom-Monday – a day for mom-stories, tips, articles and inspiration. To join in, all you have to do is add your URL to the link list below and put my button anywhere on your site. It’s as simple as that; no post necessary. Just an easy way for moms to connect with other moms!

Don’t underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.  ~Pooh’s Little Instruction Book, inspired by A.A. Milne

Bailey, resting in the sunshine.

I saw that Pooh quote and had to post it! (I’m preaching to myself here; slowing down is always something I’m working on!)

I hope you all have a restful, wonderful weekend with friends and family. See you back here for Mom-Monday!

I’m so excited to be featured over at Mamapedia Voices again today! It’s a great site, with tons of resources for parents!

Six Ways to Help Your Kids Pursue Their Dreams

If you’ve been reading here for a while, you know the topic of pursuing your dreams and helping your kids to do the same is close to my heart.

As moms (and dads), we have such an opportunity–in our words, our tone, our actions–to help our kids’ dreams grow from tiny sparks into flames. Or, if we aren’t careful, we can diminish their dreams, minimize them, and even put them out.

Sometimes, our kids are clear about what they dream of becoming or doing when they grow up. But, more often than not, the clues to their dreams lie in the little things they say and do…

My ten-year-old loves to understand how things work and is fascinated by how things are made. He’s always asking questions (and more questions), some of which blow my mind. Does this mean he’ll end up being an engineer or architect? I don’t know. He loves other things too…

His eyes light up when he mentions coming up with his own business idea or inventing something that nobody else has thought of. He’s got a strong sense of right and wrong and he talks about maybe being a police officer someday. And while I don’t know what he’ll grow up to be or do, I do know that how I listen (or not), how I respond (or not), and how I encourage (or not) when he talks about what’s important to him, can make all the difference in whether he pursues his dreams (or not).

So how can we help our kids follow their dreams as they grow up? READ SIX PRACTICAL TIPS over at Mamapedia today!

Related posts:

Are You Dreaming?

Keep on Dreaming

Lessons From the Rock Wall

Failure can be Sweet?

I wake up in the morning with excitement,

and a pit in my stomach.

You’re going away to camp for the weekend–the whole weekend–for the first time.

I know you’re almost thirteen and I know you’re going away with your youth group and closest friends,

but I also know how much I’m going to miss you.

I try to act nonchalant as you pack. I want you to know how happy I am for you, and how much fun I know you’ll have.

But that doesn’t stop me from slipping a note in your bag:

Have a great time, laugh hard, seek God, and make memories. I love you, Mommy.

We drive to church to drop you off and I swallow the lump in my throat as I pull into the parking lot and see the bus waiting.

“Don’t cry,” you say, smiling.

You know me too well.

I promise not to.

And I don’t, at least not in front of you.

I think about you all weekend, missing your energy and your singing around the house. Many times, I wish I could call you or text you. Many times I stop what I’m doing and pray for you–that you’re having an amazing time.

Sunday finally comes

and I pick you up

and it feels like I haven’t hugged you in a month.

I smile and laugh as you chatter the whole way home about the campfire and the view from your cabin porch and how moths flew in the window and how the camp food actually tasted good.

My daughter and her friends on their cabin porch at camp.

And I smile the next morning when I go into your room to wake you up for school and find you reading your Bible.

It’s hard to see you grow up,

but it’s wonderful too.

It’s hard to let you go,

but it’s amazing to see you spread your wings

and stake your ground

and become more of you.

Beautiful you,

beautiful daughter.

*Post previously published.

Not long ago, frustrated by my picky eaters, I came up with a plan to help them try new foods:

Every week, they’re responsible for going through our recipe books, picking out one meal each that they think sounds good, then being the head cook for that meal during the week.

This plan has meant setting aside time to help them read through cookbooks.

And it’s meant longer trips to the store.

And a messier kitchen on the nights they cook (they are 7 and 9 years old).

But it’s also meant finding some dinners that they really like. And that they probably wouldn’t have tried so cheerfully if they weren’t the ones who’d picked them out and cooked them.

A little while after we started doing this, we all went to Starbucks one morning.

We brought a couple cookbooks with us because we were heading to the grocery store afterwards and needed to pick out what we were going to make that week.

My kids flipped through the pages, looking at the pictures, asking questions, and deciding…

and deciding…

and deciding…

until finally, they made their choices.

“Good job,” I said, looking at what they picked out. ”These are going to be tasty.” I marked the pages and groaned inside as I scanned the long list of ingredients. (Even though the new plan was helping to expand my kids’ tastes, it was turning out to be a lot of work.)

And that’s when the woman at the table next to us stood up and came over.

She put her hand on my shoulder and leaned down. “You’re a good mom,” she said.

I smiled, confused. “Thanks.”

“Is this something you do all the time, with the cookbooks?” she asked.

I didn’t know she’d heard us.

I explained to her what we had been doing with the meals.

“I think that’s great,” she said. Then again, “You’re a good mom.”

I could barely respond.

Honestly, I felt like I might start crying.

Her compliment meant so much to me.

Because it was affirmation that sometimes the more time-consuming or inconvenient choice for us as parents is the best choice for our kids.

And because, sometimes, when we’re wondering if all the effort is worth it, we need to be reminded that it is.

I was so thankful for that woman’s words that morning, and for the fact that she took the time to come over to me.

Because it made all the difference in the world.

It really did.

More recent picky eater posts (that will encourage you if you have picky eaters too):
A note about picky eaters…
8 Great Tricks for Parenting Toddlers