School Visits: It's Not all Wizards and Cake

by Addy Farmer


You know how it is. The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry rings you up (again) and says please can you come and do your spellbinding session on muggle stories.

They'll pay a hefty 1000 galleons, a complimentary set of Gryffindor robes and as many packets of Hob Nobs as a house elf can carry.


No?

Well, maybe you arrive un-noticed at a school and find that you're doing a free workshop on the fun of physics for 453 children while the staff drink strong liquor and plan a train robbery.

Not exactly?

So what is the Truth about school visits? I asked a few uber authors for their views.

Now, these writers - Linda Newbery, Penny Dolan, Katherine Langrish, Jane Clarke - LIKE school visits. They recognise the importance of them.

Jane Clarke writes Dinosaur Cove and Puddle the Naughtiest Puppy.
Photo: Dennis Oberg

Jane puts it succinctly:

On paper, school vists account for around15% of my income as a writer - but in real terms this is likely to be more as school visits keep me in touch with my target market and promote sales of my books. They're great fun, too!

But anyone with an inner Trunchbull may find them ... a challenge.

Linda Newbery says:

Not everyone likes school visits, and it's a bit odd, really, that someone who's written a novel should be expected to stand up in front of year 9 for an hour and keep them interested.

Linda Newbery, award-winning author of LOB

Do it 'cos you get paid, you get out of the house and you love it. As Katherine says:

I get such a kick out of it, every time. I love doing it. I love telling stories.

But let's first hear what Linda has to say about having cake and not eating it ...

(No Cake sticker from Red Bubble)

I've been doing school visits for about twenty years, and have had a huge range of experiences: bad, funny and wonderful. Visits can vary tremendously, depending on the enthusiasm of the librarian or teacher in charge.

Most visiting authors have a fund of anecdotes about being ignored and belittled. My favourite (many years ago, but I'll never forget it) is the time I was sitting in a primary staff-room at break-time, apparently invisible - no one spoke to me, asked what I was doing, or offered me coffee.

It was someone's birthday, and three home-made cakes had been brought in. These cakes were cut up and passed round on plates, someone actually reaching across me to the person on my other side. It wasn't that I wanted cake ... but I did get up to make myself a coffee (still ignored).

Shame on them! But Linda goes on to say that:

But I mustn't get side-tracked from the wonderful visits ... Really enthusiastic staff ... eager children ... great preparation ... loads of questions - the sort of visit that makes me appreciate the privilege of working with children. Book sales were good, too, though that is a bonus and not something I necessarily expect on a visit.

Katherine Langrish. Photo: Helen Giles

Katherine Langrish of Troll Fell fame, gives her take on school visits:

I usually talk to Years 6, 7, and occasionally 8: but from Year 7 on, kids tend to be less well-organised: their parents and teachers are beginning to try and get them to organise themselves, so the all-important letter home ('Visiting Author; bring money for books!') often gets left in the bottom of the bag.

Plus, peer pressure and coolness points make it less likely that they'll arrive at my sessions /expecting/ to want to buy books. So I may not sell all that many.

But by the end of my sessions the kids usually wish they'd brought their money. My priority for a school visit is that it has to be fun.

I'm not there to teach them, I'm there to entertain them. If they don't have fun, why on earth would they want to read my books anyway? I write historical fantasy based on folklore and legends - rural and urban myths which have been passed down the centuries because people enjoy them!

So that's what I do - tell stories, throw some riddles and a bit of drama, do anything to get them interested in the stories shut up between the front and back covers of not only MY books, but any books.

Penny Dolan

Penny Dolan says it's important to find your own school visit way of doing things

Why do I do school visits? I meet children as they are now and not as I remember them from my earlier teaching life or my own childhood, which is useful when I'm working on a story.

I also love interesting the children in reading and in books, both mine and in general.

I try to show them that writing is a kind of making, an art form not a worksheet exercise.

My sessions are fairly fluid. Although I might use some of the same books, I will talk about the material differently for each age group. Over a long session, it’s important to vary the pace. My pattern might include telling stories, using the occasional prop, making up story with the children and being a bit funny at times, because that ‘s what suits my style. When I’m doing writing workshops, I use a much more serious approach.

I feel it’s important to become confident in your own type of "visitor" personality. It can be off-putting to hear that so and so is a really great performer, or comes with bells and whistles.

Go and see authors in action if you can, but learn to work to your own strengths. A quieter, reflective style can have long-term impact too!

And please forget fame and recognition! Schools are busy places. I don't even expect the children to know my name when I arrive. However, by the time I go, I hope they’ll remember it."

Let's not forget that we love to write. As Penny says:

The money has often been essential, but school visiting absorbs writing time. physical and creative energy. One can complete a busy “out there” year only to discover no books in the pipeline. It’s important to get the right balance in your life.

And A final word from Cliff McNish :

The secret is keeping them down to one or two a month, then they're fine.

Cliff winning the Salford Book Award in 2007 with Breathe

No, Cliff, I'm not jealous, not jealous at all. Write long and prosper.

How to Take a Critique on the Chin

By Maureen Lynas

There are two types of critiques, the face to face, the report that lands on the doormat...

There are three types of critiques, the face to face, the report that lands on the door mat, the online supportive group of friends...

There are four types of critiques... the first three plus the online site where no one knows anyone and you get a message that says, I'll critique yours if you critique mine and can I be on your bookshelf, I'm slim at 20 thousand words and my cover is gorgeous. And I'm cheap to buy.

There's probably more.

But how to cope, how to take the knock when it's face to face? Because it will be a knock. There will be something wrong. There always is. Why? Because you're asking people to CRITICISE! So, people, being kindly folk who like to please, will do as you ask.

Let's take a closer look at The Face to Face

We have a habit in our face to face SCBWI York and Middlesbrough groups of critiquing anonymously or pretending we don't know who's written the piece.

Why?

Because two things happen when an author is being critiqued face to face.

One – the author defends their work – Oh, but I meant this. Or. But you don't understand, he does that because he fell over when he was six and trapped his nose in the drain cover. He's ultra sensitive about the size of it.

Two – the critiquers address the author directly with solutions. I think you should add in three more characters, move the whole thing into space, and get rid of the drain cover. It just blocks the characters POV.

So, number one – the author defends their work. But why would you?

This is your baby, this is something you have poured yourself into, sweated over, checked and re-checked so even letting someone else look at it is a major accomplishment and deserves chocolate. As silence descends and the other authors read your work you sweat a bit more and secretly scan their faces for a flicker of a hint of interest. Was that a glimmer of a smile? A raise of an eyebrow? Then papers are shuffled and the critique begins.

You glow under the obligatory first layer of the critique sandwich. 

The 'say something positive' first layer of wholemeal bread.

You sag and deflate under the Marmite/mustard/difficult to digest layer of tough criticism.

Then you glow again (hopefully) as another layer of wholemeal is slapped on top. 

If you can stay silent during all of that then you are a star! And it's very important to try. Because these are just opinions, just what a group of people think. But, if you listen hard you'll see that although everyone will have different opinions some of them will match. And it's these that are the important ones. If you jump in to defend, you'll miss them.

Make a note of what's said, it'll give you an excuse to look down. Think about the comments. Forget about them. Remember them. Think about them again. Do you agree with them? Do they have a point?

Analyse them – are they subjective or objective? Focus on the objective ones – I don't know what the character's goal is. The protagonist doesn't make his own choices. The use of that particular metaphor is inappropriate.

Coping mechanism - Pretend this is not your work. Forget the protagonist is based on your son. It'll make it easier if they don't empathise with him. Forget the time spent writing the work and focus on the learning that has been gained through writing it. Focus on the insights the critiquers are giving into the craft of writing. Focus on what would you say about the work if it was not your work.

Number Two – the critiquers address the author directly with solutions.

It's so tempting for a critiquer to come up with solutions. And they can be useful to you. But it isn't their job to come up with all the solutions. That's your job. The critiquer is there to point out the good and the bad. 

So what to do if your group constantly tells you how to cure your plot, beef up your character, and inject a bit of humour into your dystopian darling. Before the crit begins ask them to focus. Give them a job. Please can you comment on how I've used food to define character. What do you think about the introduction of the antagonist, is he bad enough to hiss at? Have I deepened the relationship between the squid and the jellyfish, is it believable?

Coping technique – write them all down, all of the ideas. Then put them in the bin when you get home. And probably one of them will stick in your head and trigger an idea of your own. And that will be the best one. Use that.

Good luck and don't forget to avoid this at all costs.

Maureen Lynas also blogs on her own blog which she creatively named - Maureen Lynas

Pitching on the Elevator

A quicky today.

Watch this



Then read this ...

(I'm a published author now - yeah, yeah - but Nicola Morgan's refresher on pitching will be useful, whatever stage of the game you're in)