The Truth About Writing and Potty Training

Two weeks ago during our visit to Los Angeles (hence one of the reasons why I've been away from my blog), Grandma and Papa Scribe bought Little Scribe his first potty chair from a woodcarver at the Irish Festival. Lacking in bells and whistles and Elmo decorations, the chair is carved out of pine (complete with a crescent moon carved on the back) and includes a built in toliet paper holder one one side and a book/magazine holder on the other. It has a plastic liner under the seat and a wooden cover on top.

What does this have to do with writing? Well, writing and potty training have much more in common than at first glance. Think about the cheerleading a parent does with a toddler while he is on the potty:

"Just relax. You can do it. Let it all out. Reading helps, sometimes. I know, it's frustrating. Practice makes perfect. Don't give up. Let's try a little bit everyday. There it is! Good job!"
(All while your little one tries, cries, and flies off the potty and into your arms before you have a chance to wipe!)

Now imagine yourself on a tough writing day, when squeezing out even a single word feels harder than climbing Mount Hood in the middle of a snowstorm.

I think the feelings between toddler and writer are mutual.

Be your own cheerleader on those toughest of writing days, or call a writing friend to cheer for you. Say those same words that you say to your toddler on the potty, and when the words finally fly from your fingers and into your "potty" of a notebook or laptop, cry out with joy, "There it is! Good job!"

Of course, the words of my first drafts usually resemble what ends up in my toddler's potty more than an actual story, but cheer myself on I must, just as I do with my son, and forge ahead. As Grandma Scribe always says whenever I feel frustrated over Little Scribe's developmental progress, "There's no such thing as a typical kindergartener who isn't walking, talking, or potty trained. It will all happen in its own time."

So too should I remember when writing my stories. They will all happen in their own time.

Little Scribe's Book of the Moment

What's so amazing about being a children's book writer and a mother is that I get to "work" while reading picture books to my son. Before he was born, I used to check out a dozen by a single author and read them on the floor of my living room as a way to study the picture book form. Now I do it everyday while spending time with Little Scribe! Not a bad deal.

When I was an elementary school teacher, I used to read to second or third graders everyday, but my mind just didn't get as focused on the story as it does now cuddling in front of the woodburning stove with my son in our family room. There's something soothing, hypnotic almost, about reading a book for the thirtieth time (as long as it's a good story) with your two-year-old son in your lap. I am very picky about the books we read and try to have only the books that I enjoy reading as well in the house.

Little Scribe's book of the moment is RABBIT EARS by Amber Stewart and illustrated by Laura Rankin. The story is about a little rabbit named Hopscotch who hates having his ears washed. This scenario is close to my heart and real life experience, if you exchanged washing ears for washing hair. Little Scribe usually hates to have his hair washed, and it takes quite a bit of convincing to do so.

What's so precious about this story is not only its relevence to daily life, but also its clever use of names for the rabbit characters, like calling the main character "Hopscotch," his big cousin "Bobtail," and even down to the name of his favorite stuffed animal. (A little sewed up Velveteen Rabbit-type of stuffed animal named, appropriately enough, "Rabbity.") I also enjoy the repetition of the narrative, as can be seen in this example:

"Hopscotch knew what he liked and what he did not like.
He did like Rabbity
building a tower twelve blocks high with no wobbbles at all,
and very chocolatey chocolate cake (with extra icing on the side.

Hopscotch did not like lumpy pudding,
cold wet paws,
and losing Rabbity just before bedtime, even though Rabbity was usually found exactly where Hopscotch had left him.

And Hopscotch knew, for absolute certain, the thing he did not like the most was
having his ears washed!"

The colors in the book's illustrations are reminiscent of a french country cottage: lots of golden yellow, cobalt blue, dusty rose, grassy green, and warm tan. Even the house the rabbit family lives in looks like a cottage with its clawfoot tub, hardwood floors, and wainscotting in the kitchen. (I especially love the scene in the kitchen where Hopscotch is asking his Daddy when he can go stay at his big cousin Bobtail's house overnight while Mommy is drinking tea. Little Scribe always points to the teapot in the illustration and cries, "Mama Tea! Mama Tea!")

RABBIT EARS is an excellent example of pure picture book format and a fine study for children's writers interested in the genre. Thank you, Little Scribe, for making me read it to you upteen times!

Now, if only he'd let me write while we play together!