My first guest blog for Author Allsorts, an A-Z of the terms every children’s writer needs to know…
Author: Your new job title. Carries much weight at parties, very little with mortgage advisers.
Bookshops: A bittersweet experience. On one hand, so many incredible books. On the other, so much competition. See also: Libraries.
Children. Don’t have more than one. Or have as many as possible, and they will inspire and focus you like never before. I chose option two.
Deadlines. The most important dates in your diary. Children’s birthdays, wedding anniversaries and holidays can all be bumped to meet one.
Editor. Someone who will love and nurture your book as much as you do, but using a much tougher parenting technique.
February. Glorious month when PLR statements arrive, you celebrate every last 6.2 pence, and banish the thought that you owe triple the total in library fines.
Google. A place to type your own name repeatedly, along with keywords such as ‘review’. If you start to feel you’re overdoing it, try Duck Duck Go for an entirely new list of results.
“Gosh that’s exciting, where can I buy one?” What you hope people will say when you tell them you write children’s books.
“Had anything published?” What people actually say when you tell them you write children’s books.
Holidays. Previously a time to relax, unwind, and squeeze in as much food as possible. Now a time for other people to relax and unwind, while you squeeze in as much writing as possible. See also: Work/life balance.
Immediate family. The people who can be counted on to read nary a single word of your writing, except under duress.
January 31.Day of the annual resolution to put 20 per cent of your earnings into a separate bank account, and to complete your next tax return on 6 April.
Libraries. Another battleground for the wide-eyed child and green-eyed monster within. See also: Bookshops.
Long-lost relatives. Will suddenly appear, demanding advice on publishing a children’s book written by their daughter / daughter’s best friend / daughter’s best friend’s dog.
Mojo. You might wake up buzzing with creativity, you might not. But you’ll get better at getting on with writing regardless. This is a very good thing. See also: Deadlines.
Niche. Play to your strengths as you build a career but every few months challenge yourself to write something entirely different – an article, a poem, a picture book. It keeps your writing fresh and opens up new career possibilities.
Office. It’s in a corner of your house, doubling as a depository for ancient paperwork, broken toys, and your partner’s work clothes.
Pension. Something that other people have.
Querying. Continues to be scary, whether you’re 8 or 80 books into your career. In fact it gets worse.
Royalties. Should feel like being paid several years after doing the work. Actually feels like a gift from the free money fairy.
Shelf. Soon you’ll have one full of copies of your book. Weirdly, you’ll never feel a particular desire to open one and read it. Annoyingly, neither will your family.
Trolls. An occupational hazard, even for children’s writers. I’ve only encountered one, after trip-trapping over the pages of my local newspaper. Unsettling but best ignored.
Undivided attention. Traditionally reserved for Twitter, but throw a scrap to your family from time to time.
View. Because staring into the distance is part of your job spec. There’s a large tree outside my window, and somewhere in its branches are the answers to my trickest edits.
Work/life balance. Easy enough when you set your own hours. Though secretly you can’t get enough of the first.
X. “Marks the spot.” If in doubt, ask a three-year-old – they have all the best ideas.
Yawn. A sign that it’s past midnight, the children will be up in five hours and you really should switch off your computer and sleep. But this idea is so good and the words are flowing and you love what you do and anyway…
Zzzzz. … is for wimps.
Please feel free to add to the list by leaving a comment. Particularly if it starts with K…