Tag: writing

Writing

Results: Nonfiction Picture Book Word Count Survey for Debut Authors

Kirsten W. Larson

One of the most frequently asked questions I get from newer nonfiction picture book writers is: “How many words should my book be?”

Nonfiction picture book writers often have heard their book must be 1,000 words or fewer, sometimes even 800 words or fewer. But is this really true? To get the straight scoop, I undertook a word count survey for debut nonfiction authors in early 2024 to see what word counts editors are actually acquiring and publishing.

Methodology

The authors in the survey had not previously been published in any category. The reasoning was that previously published authors, no matter the genre or category, may have more freedom and flexibility when it came to word count.

This was an opt-in survey that used a Google form to collect data (The form is still open so I can continue to collect data). Aside from publicizing the survey on social media, I reached out to debut authors I found by searching Publishers Marketplace deals from 2021 onward (when PM started breaking out nonfiction picture books from fiction picture books) and by contacting authors through debut picture book marketing groups.

The data set includes books acquired between 2017 and 2023 for publication between 2020 and 2027. I included not-yet published books in the survey, as long as editing and the basic layout were complete so the final word count and page count were known.

My survey was open from February 7, 2024-March 7, 2024, and received 40 responses, 14 of which were picture book biographies; 26 other nonfiction.

Publishers represented include: Calkins Creek, Minedition, Barefoot Books, Millbrook, Beaming Books, HarperCollins, Little, Brown Books for Young Readers, Chronicle, Web of Life Books, Knopf, Running Press Kids, Capstone, Albert Whitman, Peachtree, Scholastic, Sleeping Bear, Becker & Mayer Kids, Yeehoo Press, Worthy Kids, Page Street Kids, Holiday House, Viking, Simon & Schuster, Sky Pony Press, Kar-Ben Publishing, and Tilbury House.

The results

PB biosOther Nonfiction PBs
Average word count at acquisitions1,116 words497 words
Word count range at acquisitions737 to 2,000 words93 to 1,113 words
Average word count at publication1,086 words547 words
Word count range at publication730 to 1,400 words74 to 1,185 words
Most common page count40 pages32 pages
Target age range (lower limit)5.36 years4.31 years
Target age range (upper limit)9.07 years8.23 years
Word count survey for nonfiction picture book authors conducted February 2024-March 2024 by author Kirsten W. Larson

Analysis – Picture Book Biography Word Counts

So, do nonfiction picture books have to be under 1,000 words to be acquired? The answer is no, especially when it comes to picture book biographies. Picture book biographies (PB bios) tend to be longer than other nonfiction picture books, both at acquisitions and at publication. The range at publication was 730 to 1,400 words.

And here’s another really interesting tidbit: 50% percent of the time, a PB bio’s word count INCREASED during the editing process. The sweet spot seems to be in the range of 850 to 1,300 words, when you remove the shortest and longest books.

It might be helpful here to have a chart that shows both word counts at acquisitions and publication for each PB bio in the study.

Why do PB bios run 1,000 words or more?

Well, first of all they are geared towards older readers (5.26-9.07 years), compared to both fiction picture books and other nonfiction picture books. They then spread those words over more pages. The most common book length in the study was 40 pages, compared to 32 pages for fiction picture books or other nonfiction picture books.

Another factor that could contribute to higher word counts is PB bios’ narrative structure, which makes use of scenes. Crafting vivid scenes — snippets of minute-by-minute action with thoughts/emotion and potentially dialog– requires more words than summarizing information after the fact.

Analysis – Word Counts for Other Nonfiction

Other picture book nonfiction had a much wider word count range, from 93 words to 1,113. There was an extreme outlier — a book of 6,000 words and 48 pages, which was 6,400 words at acquisitions — which I had to exclude from the summary data because it was throwing the picture off.

Why are other nonfiction books shorter than PB bios?

These books often are targeted at younger readers, closer to the traditional 4-8 picture book age range. They include books with spare, poetic text. And these books commonly make use of sidebars and other text features on the page, which are supplementary. Sidebars and other text features add information, but are not counted in the main text.

How did word counts change during the editing process for other nonfiction picture books?

As with the picture book biographies, the word counts of these books most frequently increased during the editing process, which leads to the question: why?

Future Questions: Why do word counts typically increase with editing?

What accounts for word counts increasing during the editing process? I’m not sure, and I would love for some nonfiction editors (and debut nonfiction authors) to weigh in!

I wonder if our self-imposed limits of 800 to 1,000 words result in flatter writing, forcing us to strip out some of the scenes, emotion, and juicy details. Once acquired these bits get added back in during the editing process. I have no data to support this, but I’m eager to know what editors and authors are experiencing. If you are an editor or an author who debuted with picture book nonfiction, please share your experience below.

Writing

Authors Who Offer Nonfiction Critiques

Kirsten W. Larson

Recently, two different writers in two different Facebook groups posted in search of nonfiction critique services for picture books. I thought it would be a good idea to compile a list and make it available to everyone.

One caveat: This is a crowdsourced list. I don’t personally have experience with these authors and services (except my own, of course), so this is in no way an endorsement.

If you are an author offering nonfiction critiques or a nonfiction author who has used a critique service not on this list, please leave a comment below. I’m happy to add others to this list.

research

Researching with Microsoft OneNote

Kirsten W. Larson

Today I’m doing something a little different — a video post!

All of my nonfiction writing projects begin with their own notebook in Microsoft OneNote (the desktop version). This notebook is the digital equivalent of a file box where I store all my hardcopy research.

This video will show you:

  • How to create a notebook
  • How to add sections to organize your notebook
  • How to add web-based sources as notes within those sections, even if you don’t have the OneNote web clipper extension (available for Microsoft Edge and Google Chrome)
In this video, learn how to use OneNote for research

Next month, I’ll show you how to use the OneNote app on your phone to capture pages from books and other media, that you can add to your notebook and search.

Do you have any questions about Microsoft OneNote? I’d love to hear them.

research, Writing

Regarding Research: Selecting Secondary Sources

Kirsten W. Larson

Welcome to part two of our series on research. Last month, we discussed primary sources. Today we dive into secondary sources.

To recap: to conduct thorough research, you need a mix of both primary and secondary sources. Editors consider the depth of your research when deciding whether to acquire your book. In fact, one of my editors, Carolyn Yoder at Calkins Creek, says she skims an author’s bibliography BEFORE she even invests time reading the manuscript.

Defining secondary sources

What’s a secondary source? You’ll find lots of definitions on the internet, but here is one I like: The University of Massachusetts Healey Library says secondary sources are “one step removed from primary sources, though they often quote or otherwise use primary sources. They can cover the same topic, but add a layer of interpretation and analysis.” Secondary sources include biographies and histories, scholarly or magazine articles written after the fact by people who are not eyewitnesses, and documentaries.

This is the book cover for THE FIRE OF STARS

Why use secondary sources

To write a great nonfiction book requires context, and context comes from secondary sources. Cecilia Payne’s groundbreaking discovery of what made the stars is more impressive when you realize how few women working in astronomy during her day. That’s information I get from secondary sources. Cecilia’s contributions and legacy are clear when I can understand what people knew about the stars at the time. Again, I need secondary sources for that information. (In fact, Dava Sobel’s Glass Universe was a wonderful source for all of this.)

Secondary sources also are critical for fact-checking primary sources. People, even eye-witnesses to history, can make mistakes in their accounts since memory can be fallible. Authors of secondary sources have sifted through and analyzed mountains of evidence from a variety of sources. The names, dates, and other facts they include are often more accurate than those found in primary sources. (Note: Ensure you are using credible secondary sources. Always check the author’s credentials. I also look at professional reviews for books I use in journals.)

Finally, secondary sources with great bibliographies can lead you to primary sources. They’re a shortcut for learning where a person’s papers are housed, for example, especially when archives are scattered across the country. That doesn’t mean you’ll rely on the bibliography exclusively, but they’ll give you a start.

An example

THE FIRE OF STARS ends with a series of questions:

If this is what stars are made of, how do they form? How do they create such enormous energy? Whose will the next discovery be?”

–THE FIRE OF STARS

To make those statements, I had to understand how Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin’s research paved the way for future discoveries. And that required pulling secondary sources like astronomy websites and college textbooks in astronomy.

To see what kind of secondary sources authors use, look at the bibliographies of their books. I often begin research on a project with a book written for adults — a secondary source. While my sources change with every project, here are some I use frequently.

Before you pay to access any archive or database, check with your local library or local academic institution to see what they provide. Many offer free access for students or patrons.

Do you have a favorite secondary research resource? Let me know.

#MentorTextMoment, Writing

Talking About Takeaways

Kirsten W. Larson

Last month, I encouraged writers of all ages to ask themselves, “What’s your point?” This question comes from Lisa Cron in STORY GENIUS. Asking yourself this question is a great way to arrive at the takeaway for your story (which others may call the message or moral of a story). You can read more about finding your takeaway here.

This month I want to focus on how different takeaways influence choices we make as writers in terms of structure, voice, point of view (POV), and more. For an example, let’s look a three different bee books.

This image group shows three different book covers of bee books -- GIVE BEES A CHANCE, HONEYBEE, and IF BEES DISAPPEARED

A Tale of Three Bee Books

Cover to GIVE BEES A CHANCE by Bethany Barton

In GIVE BEES A CHANCE by Bethany Barton, Barton’s point (or takeaway) is that we should all give bees a chance. Bees are helpful, and mostly not harmful to humans. Because Barton is upending our usual notions of bees as pests, she takes a humorous approach and adopts a humorous voice. Her text is persuasive versus simply informative. The book is set up as a conversation between a child who hates bees and a narrator working to convince the child that bees aren’t all bad. Each spread gives a reason why the child should give bees a chance and value them. By the end, the child is mostly convinced, meaning there’s a bit of a narrative arc, but I wouldn’t classify this as a narrative book per se.

This is the cover to HONEYBEE by Candace Fleming illustrated by Eric Rohmann.

HONEYBEE by Candace Fleming, illustrated by Eric Rohmann makes the point that brief lives can have great value. Fleming focuses on the busy life of one particular bee from birth to death. You could think of this book as a cradle to grave biography of a bee following the narrative structure most biographies adopt. In the beginning, the bee is waiting for the day it can fly, but as the book moves on, the bee realizes the role it has to play in the hive and its life’s work. This powerful message is supported by Fleming’s choice to use a lyrical voice and close third-person POV from the perspective of the bee.

This is the cover of IF BEES DISAPPEARED by Lily Williams.

In IF BEES DISAPPEARED, Lily Williams makes the point that small changes (like the disappearance of bees) can have huge and catastrophic consequences in our environment. To support this takeaway, she adopts a cause and effect text structure. She spends a few spreads giving readers a sense of bees and their importance in our world. Then she shows us what would happen if bees disappeared in a smooth cause/effect chain. For example, if bees disappeared, then flowers would disappear, then foods requiring flowers disappear, then animals that eat those foods would disappear. The catastrophic results grow. Williams’s structure is a perfect match for her takeaway.

Stories as unique as fingerprints

The way a writer tells their story is as unique as their fingerprints. Every author comes to their story with their own life experiences and values. That means each author will likely make a different point, even when writing about the same exact topic. In turn, those unique takeaways influence other craft choices like structure, voice, point of view, and so much more. The result? Three books on the same topic can be completely different.

Your turn

Fellow writers, what’s your takeaway? How might it influence your structure, voice, point of view, and other craft elements of your story?

Education, Writing

Adding book hooks with domain-specific language

Kirsten W. Larson

The Common Core ELA standards for grades 3 and up invite students to explore words that are specific to a field of study. The standards call this “domain-specific language.” That’s a fancy way of saying vocabulary words that often appear in glossaries or bolded in textbooks. The concept is introduced in grade 3, where students learn how to figure out what these words mean in context. Older students incorporate domain-specific language in their own informational writing.

If you’ve read my books, you know I love domain-specific language, whether it’s aviation-related words in WOOD, WIRE, WINGS or astronomy-related words in THE FIRE OF STARS. I know that using rich vocabulary in picture books, especially domain-specific vocabulary, adds another hook to my books. It offers one more way my books can be used in classroom, specifically in ELA lessons.

Exploring domain-specific language

With domain-specific language, a little bit goes a long way. If you go overboard, your book can start to lose its musicality and read more like a textbook. We don’t want that.

To see how writers strike a balance, I encourage you to grab a stack of recent nonfiction or informational picture books off your library or bookstore’s shelves. If you see a glossary or list of “key terms” you’ve definitely found a winner, though not all books include them. Mine don’t.

If you need some recommendations, here are a few recent picture book titles I grabbed from my current library stack that do domain-specific language really well:

Making the most of mentor texts

Once you have your mentor texts, go ahead and read them. Jot down any domain-specific language you find. Then consider:

  • Are the vocabulary words easily understood within the context of the page?
  • How do the images add to the reader’s understanding of the words?
  • Does the book include text features like definitions on the page? Or are the words defined in a glossary?
  • What is the balance of these new vocabulary words compared to the rest of the book text?

An example

This spread from THE FIRE OF STARS reads: “shrinking and smashing — and Cecilia’s sphere feels smaller and smaller still when she realizes her new school is a black hole with none of her favorite classes.

No algebra. No German. No cinch. Not even any friends for a shy and studious girl like her…”

This book includes two vocabulary words related to astronomy/STEM — “sphere” and “black hole,” though I use them metaphorically. I don’t define either in a glossary or in a sidebar. Yet by studying the pictures and words together, readers can get the idea of what the words mean. Notice Katherine Roy’s gray circular marks, which help define Cecilia’s space and convey the idea that all the light and joy is being sucked away, much like a real black hole’s gravity prevents light from escaping. The dark colors in the illustrations reinforce that idea of a black hole, as does the repetition of the word “no.” Cecilia’s world has an absence of anything joyful and bright, an emptiness, like that real black hole.

Now you try

Are you working on a manuscript where you could inject some domain-specific language to add another hook? Can you do this (sparingly, please)? Do you need a glossary or sidebars to explain the words, or can you rely on the context of your words and potential illustrations?

Please let me know in the comments if you have any breakthroughs!

Writing

Revision Tip: Unwriting Your Draft

Kirsten W. Larson

One of the biggest challenges of writing is making sure what’s in your head actually ends up on the page. It can be tricky, especially when you get so attached to all those lovely lines and individual word choices. How can you zoom out to take a big-picture view? I like to use a technique called “unwriting.”

I first learned about unwriting from Renee LaTulippe’s Lyrical Language Lab. Renee defines unwriting as the process of stripping away all the craft and technique from the writing. For me, that means briefly summarizing what I’ve written on every page or two-page spread. It’s essentially outlining, but instead of summarizing what I plan to write on each page, I’m summarizing what’s already there. In fact, some people call this technique “reverse outlining.”

Once I’ve unwritten/outlined what’s on the page, I can analyze it to see what work my words are doing. Are they summarizing my big idea? Providing an example? Are they describing character? Building the world? Is this moment the inciting incident or all is lost moment? What am I missing?

Get some practice

To practice this technique, pull out a favorite picture book. It could be poetry or prose. Fiction or nonfiction. It doesn’t matter. Going spread-by-spread, summarize what is happening on each two-page spread. You can label each spread “Spread 1,” “Spread 2,” etc.

Here’s an example from THE FIRE OF STARS, which I unwrote a few days before I pieced together the parallel storylines.

This is a page from the book showing young Cecilia in the snow feeling it for herself.

Spread 1

Cecilia throws a fit until her mother puts her down in the snow so she can feel it for herself. It isn’t soft and warm like she expected. She realizes things aren’t what they seem. And she knows it’s the same with her too. [Character into and characterization]

Spread 2

She looks like other schoolgirls, but Cecilia likes to play outside in the garden, getting dirty, playing in the trees watching nature. [Characterization]

Speed 3

One day she figures out all by herself why a flower looks like a bee. She wants to feel that feeling again so she decides to be a scientist and study nature. [Inciting incident/quest kicks off]

This image is from the book showing Cecilia discovering why a flower looks like a bee.

You get the idea…

By unwriting my spreads, I was able to see what each one was contributing to the story. This was essential for constructing a parallel story. I went through the same process for the star’s story, summarizing step-by-step how they form. Only then could I line up the two stories to see how they worked together. The final step, after I had the structure in place, was to turn my attention to the lyrical language (which I wrote about here).

Now you try

After you’ve practiced this technique on a couple of favorite picture books, it’s time to test it out on a draft that’s giving you trouble. Unwrite/reverse outline your draft by summarizing each section or spread. Then analyze: are your scenes or examples unfolding in a logical way? What work is each scene/spread doing? If you are working with a narrative, does this spread introduce characters, provide glimpses into characters, build the world or convey major plot points?

This process is especially helpful for understanding the structure of expository picture books, which use non-narrative structures like “list” or “compare and contrast” or “question and answer.” If you text is expository, is this spread conveying your big idea, an example that makes your point, or is this a conclusion?

And no matter what you are writing, is your point clear, or did your lovely language get in the way? Did you get what was in your head onto the page?

Make any adjustments you need to your outline/unwritten draft BEFORE translating it back into lovely language.

Happy revising!

Writing

The Plot Power of “Because of That”

Kirsten W. Larson

For me, one of the most difficult parts of writing nonfiction (or any narrative, really) is choosing what fascinating parts of the story to include and what to delete because it doesn’t fit the focus of the book. One of my most valuable tools for figuring out what belongs is three simple words: “because of that.”

The story spine

I first learned about linking plot points with the phrase “because of that” in this Pixar/Khan Academy video about story spines, pictured below. Once the main character sets off to pursue her big goal in Act 2, her choices should drive the action. “Because of that” ensures that each action and each choice in the second act leads directly to the next. If you can fit “because of that” between your plot points, then your main character has agency.

But what if “because of that” doesn’t fit? What if your plot is more like, “This happened, and then that happened, and then that happened.” If you are using “and then” to link your plot points, that’s a strong indicator that your plot is a random collection of events happening to your protagonist. You need to reevaluate. Who is driving the action? Does each scene have a connection to the protagonist’s big goal?

An example

Let’s look at THE FIRE OF STARS as an example. Cecilia Payne was such a fascinating woman, and there was so much I wanted to include in the book. At one time, the book included all kinds of tidbits, including the fact that when Cecilia won a prize at school and could pick any book she wanted, she selected a textbook about fungi. Though this fact was interesting, it didn’t have real bearing on the Cecilia’s lifelong quest to discover something new, so I ultimately discarded it. In a novel, I might have had the space to keep the scene to illuminate Cecilia’s character, but in a picture book I had to be ruthless.

Let’s look at a plot outline for THE FIRE OF STARS, and you’ll see what I mean.

  1. Once upon a time there was a young girl, Cecilia Payne, who was captivated by the natural world.
  2. Everyday she studied trees and flowers.
  3. Until one day, she discovered on her own why a bee orchid looked like a bee, and her whole body hummed with that discovery. In that moment, she decided she wanted to feel like that her whole life.
  4. But Cecilia’s family moved to London to find a better school for her brother, and because of that, Cecilia went to a new school with no space for a curious girl like her.
  5. Because of that, she hid out in a secret place — a dusty science lab for older girls.
  6. Because of that, she taught herself about science, and soon required a science tutor who gave Cecilia her first book on astronomy.
  7. Because of that, Cecilia was accepted to Cambridge University to study botany (because girls couldn’t study astronomy).
  8. Because of that, she took science classes where teachers wanted her to learn facts, not learn anything new.
  9. Because of that, she jumped at the chance to hear astronomer Arthur Eddington talk about his new discoveries at a lecture.
  10. Because of that, she switched her studies to physics where she was the only woman and teased by the men.
  11. Because of that, when she graduated and learned there was no place for women in astronomy at Cambridge, she moved to America to work at Harvard College Observatory.
  12. Because of that, she was surrounded by glass plates capturing the essence of stars and women who cataloged them.
  13. Because of that, Cecilia studied the star ingredients for her thesis, but grew frustrated when she couldn’t make out their meaning. But she stuck with it.
  14. Until finally, she made her groundbreaking discovery about what makes the stars — and our universe.
  15. And ever since that day, other astrophysicists have used Cecilia’s discovery to ask new questions and make more amazing discoveries about our universe.
  16. And the moral of the story is that what makes a scientist is curiosity, passion, hard work, and belief in oneself.

By using “because of that” I’ve made sure Cecilia is driving her own story and that every action has a consequence that forces Cecilia to make another choice in a smooth chain of cause and effect.

Your turn

Grab a narrative draft (nonfiction or fiction) and outline your plot using the story spine. Are you able to use the words “because of that” between your plot points? Or is it a bunch of “and then this?” What adjustments do you need to make to your plot a series of causes and effects?

One more thing

If you want to study THE FIRE OF STARS, illus. Katherine Roy, more closely, the book will release Feb. 7, 2023 from Chronicle Books. It’s a lyrical, double read aloud with Cecilia’s story told alongside the story of star formation. You can preorder it now wherever books are sold. You’ll find all the buy links here. Or ask your local library to purchase a copy.

Writing

Scripting the Scene in Nonfiction

Kirsten W. Larson

One of the best techniques for breathing life into your nonfiction is through carefully crafted scenes. Scene writing is especially useful for picture book biographies, where you want the reader to identify with your main character and to have an emotional response to their journey.

So what’s a scene? In one of my favorite books, SCENE & STRUCTURE, Jack M. Bickham defines the scene this way: “It’s a segment of story action, written moment-by-moment, without summary, presented on-stage in the story ‘now.'” (p. 23)

In picture books, scenes are by necessity very short, sometimes just a few sentences. Let’s look at one from my first book, WOOD, WIRE, WINGS, to see how the scene works.

What do you notice?

Do you see how I’m narrating the action, almost like I’m telling you what’s happening in a movie? This narration includes specific physical actions (rescuing toys, snatching the ball, trimming and twisting, filing and fitting). I use vivid verbs and onomatopoeia, which I like to think of as the sound of “being there.”

I also give the reader a peek into Lilian’s mind with the rhetorical question: “Would the weather vane work?” It asks the reader to consider the same questions that are likely running through Lilian’s head, those feeling of apprehension and self doubt.

And then when the weather vane does work, we have “Success!” That single-word exclamation reflects Lilian’s feeling of victory.

Now, imagine how this would read if I had simply summarized the events.:

“When she was a little girl, Lilian Todd built a working weather vane out of broken toys and trash. “

What do you notice now?

First off, there’s absolutely zero tension. The reader doesn’t wonder whether Lilian will succeed. They don’t cheer her on or celebrate her victory. In fact, we aren’t in Lilian’s point of view at all. Summaries put a lot of distance between us and the main character. And that’s not what we want. We want our reader to identify with Lilian. She’s their avatar in the book.

Also, the scene takes up several more sentences than the summary — seven sentences versus just one. Because scenes run longer, we can’t write every single part of our story in scene. But for important moments in a character’s journey, we can write in scene to increase tension and emotional resonance.

Here is one important distinction between fiction and nonfiction: because this is nonfiction, I can’t make up the details of this scene. All of this information comes from newspaper interviews Lilian Todd gave later as an adult. From these historic newspapers, I know the materials she picked. I know how she worked on her inventions from the time she was a little girl. I know the location (Washington, D.C., a city) and time of year (winter), which is reflected in the illustrations. I also have a sense of how she handled failure and success. I can document all those details. That’s what makes it nonfiction.

Are you ready to breathe life into your own nonfiction manuscript? I challenge you to take an important moment in your story that’s currently written as a summary and transform it into a short scene. Use some of the techniques above: vivid verbs, onomatopoeia, rhetorical questions, exclamations. What do you think of the result?

Are you ready to take the next step in revising your nonfiction manuscript? Contact me for a coaching session, and we’ll polish up your picture book until it shines. And don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter to be notified the next time I’m offering my nonfiction picture book revision class at The Writing Barn.

Writing

Writing Ratios: How many stories become books?

Kirsten W. Larson

I just moved two picture book projects into my “Dead Projects” file. These are books I’m no longer revising. (Note: Any book with a shred of hope, stays in my “active” file. There are several I’m not working on currently, but think have some promise.)

For fun, I counted my “Dead Projects”: 24 over 10 years. For reference, these are only picture books and don’t include two abandoned novels, a shelved graphic novel, a chapter book, and a handful of early readers.

Most of these “dead” picture books are from my pre-agented days. They include one I submitted to publishers on my own before I had an agent. But another five my agent has seen, or we discussed the concept, but for various reasons, we chose not to send them out on submission.

In the meantime, we’ve sold four picture books, and I have six in the active file that may turn into something.

So, let’s do the math. 34 picture books written. Four are (or will be) books. That’s a 12% success rate. I’m hopeful for another six (17%). All told, if I’m SUPER lucky, about 25-30% of my total drafts will become books.

Even when I narrow the field to drafts I’ve worked on ONLY since getting an agent in 2016, I’m still batting only 25% .

What’s the lesson? We have to write A LOT. Not everything we write will result in a sale. We can get better with time and improve our ratios. But I still write projects I abandon all the time. It’s all part of the process.

I remind myself daily that no writing is a waste of time. These “dead projects” inform my stories in many different ways. I may explore a theme or structure in an abandoned book that makes its way into a successful book. It’s all productive.

Happy writing!