What are your New Year’s book geek goals?

I’ve always been a book geek.

When I was young, that involved walking to the bookmobile and trying to convince the librarian to let me check out more books than the rules allowed.

It also involved visiting the public library whenever my parents could take me. That’s where they got me an adult card rather than a child’s so I could take as many books as I could carry home with me.

But, I didn’t just read those books.

I read everything I could. Magazines, newspapers, brochures, cereal boxes, junk mail. In fact, the first time I had to do a demonstration speech on a hobby, I loaded my backpack with all these items and shared my passion for the written word.

Maybe that’s why I wasn’t invited to more parties.

But, I honestly didn’t care. Who needed parties when there were words? I remember having to put books down and stop reading because I was so in awe of how the writer had turned a phrase or constructed a sentence.

And, sometimes, I’d laugh out loud. Not because the sentence was funny, but because I especially liked a particular combination of words on the page.

Eventually, I started writing myself.

In fourth grade, I wrote awkward stories about a cat named “Salt” and a dog named “Pepper.” (Guess what colors they were?) Around that same time, I wrote terrible songs with my sister about sisters named Madeline and Adeline. I read “If Life Is a Bowl of Cherries, What am I Doing in the Pits?” and then tried to write essays that sounded like Erma Bombeck. All I remember is that one of them made my mother mad.

But, in fifth grade, I wrote a poem about a yellow duck on the run from the law that made my teacher laugh so hard he cried. And in sixth grade, I wrote a paper about my grandmother’s swishy, swirly, square-dancing skirts that another teacher said gave her chills.

When she asked me how long it took me to write it, I answered honestly — about a half hour. Everyone in my class gasped. That was the first time I realized that writing wasn’t easy or fun for everyone.

Then one day, I was flipping through the school library’s card catalog — yes, I’m old enough to have used those — when I realized something. Every book in there was written by somebody. A real person. And maybe someday, I could write a book too.

I flipped to the Zs to see where my name would fall.

Well, my name has probably never been in a card catalog. I’m not sure any still exist. But, now that I’ve had books published, it has been on bookshop.org and barnesandnoble.com and amazon.com and goodreads.com and in the Library of Congress.

And I find that too cool for words.

Here’s how it happened:

1. Sixteen years ago — after writing newspaper articles and a wide variety of technical memos in my corporate job to pay the bills — I decided I wanted to write books for children. No, I did not quit my day job until I had eight books in print and one had made the New York Times bestseller list. Writing for kids is very satisfying, but it is not a guaranteed money-maker.
2. Instead, I started spending three hours each night after my kids were in bed writing manuscripts. They were better than my childhood stories, but they were far from lovely. Miss Clavel of MADELINE book fame might have said, “Something is not right.”
3. So, I brought piles of picture books home from my new public library and read them. I read everything Kevin Henkes had ever had published. Everything by Mem Fox. Everything by Judith Viorst. Everything by Kari Best and Jill Esbaum and Dori Chaconas and Mo Willems. Plus, a ton of stuff by authors whose names I don’t recall. (As I learned more about children’s lit, the array of authors I read — and currently read — got broader and more diverse, but this is where I started.)
4. I went to my my first SCBWI conference and hid in the back row hoping no one would realize I didn’t belong and ask me to leave. That didn’t happen, and I was so glad I decided to attend.
5. I joined two critique groups and got feedback on my stories.
6. I kept reading. I kept writing. I kept revising.

This sign summed up my approach:

Then, I cautiously began sending out submissions.

I got lots of form rejections. Lots of silence. Then, one day, a little blue card arrived in the mail with a handwritten note that said: “Cute, but not quite right for us.” I almost had it framed. A real, live editor thought my story was cute.

As I kept writing, I got enough tiny bits of encouragement in between the rejections to keep me from giving up. More personalized rejections. A story that sold to Highlights magazine. An honorable mention in a writing contest. A few requests to revise and resubmit.

But always, ultimately, a rejection — 126 in total.

Until my phone rang four years after I started attempting to write for kids. The area code said “212,” and the caller ID said “Random House.” And the voice on the other end said, “Hi! This is Anne Schwartz. You probably don’t remember sending us SOPHIE’S SQUASH, but …”

That was the fateful moment that kicked off this book geek’s kidlit writing career. As you might expect, I geeked out.

So what do YOU want to achieve?

Because it’s the New Year and the time many folks resolve to try new things or recommit to previous goals, I wanted to offer encouragement to everyone researching, reading, writing, revising, submitting or … just dreaming. Dig in. Give yourself time to work. Don’t expect perfection right away!

And, if you want an auditory pep talk, here’s a speech I gave after my first book won the Golden Kite Award that describes my journey to publication.

And, down the road, when your book exists, I’ll look forward to seeing it in the library and all the other places books exist.

As a book geek, I’m always looking for more books!