Tag: biography

Books, Writing

Reblog: Evolution of an Opening: Tracing the Revisions of Wood, Wire, Wings: Emma Lilian Todd Invents an Airplane

Kirsten W. Larson

Have you ever wondered how many tries it takes to nail the just-right opening for a book? The answer is — many!

Lea Maryanow recently asked me to contribute to her “Spot the Difference” series where she featured authors and their various attempts at their picture book beginnings. It was a wonderful opportunity to share the evolution of the opening for Wood, Wire, Wings: Emma Lilian Todd Invents an Airplane. I encourage you to read the rest of the entries in Lea’s blog series, here. Here’s my contribution:

This is the book cover for WOOD, WIRE, WINGS.

As writers, we all know that opening lines are crucial for hooking the reader. But crafting the perfect opening often takes numerous revisions and rewrites. This was truly the case with my first picture book biography, Wood, Wire, Wings: Emma Lilian Todd Invents an Airplane, illustrated by Tracy Subisak (Calkins Creek, 2020). I learned so much about writing these books from editor Carolyn Yoder.

I began this book in February 2014 in Susanna Hill’s Making Picture Book Magic Class. One of my earliest drafts from March 2014 opened by establishing Lilian’s innate curiosity and tinkering spirit from a young age. Starting with a character trait is a common technique in picture book biographies:

Even as a child, Emma Lilian Todd couldn’t hold a bit of wire or scrap of tin without twisting and turning them, tinkering until she had something new. While most girls in 1860s played with dolls, Lilian transformed a toy and a Christmas tree topper into a working weather vane, her first practical invention.”

I sent my draft through my critique group soon thereafter. The opening of my next draft (May 2014) keeps this childhood anecdote but tightens the writing and adds more context contrasting Lilian with other girls of her era:

While many girls in the 1860s played with dolls, Lilian Todd toyed with bits of wire and scraps of tin. She couldn’t hold them without twisting and turning them, tinkering until she had something new. In her hands, a toy and a Christmas tree topper became a working weather vane. It was her first useful invention.”

I got my agent, Lara Perkins at Andrea Brown Literary Agency, with this draft. We then rolled up our sleeves and began to work on the manuscript together. During that process, I came up with a different opening in May 2016 (shown below). It drops the idea of Lilian being different from other girls, which could apply to almost any barrier-breaking woman of the time. Instead, I really leaned into what made Lilian unique, introducing her as a prolific tinkerer surrounded by her tools and materials:

Toolbox by her side, Emma Lilian Todd whacked and snapped and snipped. In her hands, wood, wire, and tin transformed into tiny airplanes. When she ran out of metal, Lilian saved tin cans from her supper. Ta-da! Propellers. But building model airplanes wasn’t enough for Lilian. She dreamed big…”

We went out on submission with the manuscript and got interest from Carolyn Yoder at Calkins Creek. But the manuscript wasn’t quite there. Carolyn asked for a revise and resubmit, which led to the opening below in January 2017. This time I pulled back, using a broad premise to frame the story as one about problem-solving:

When Emma Lilian Todd saw problems, she sought solutions. Some problems were small, like where to find tin to make her machines (Answer: She saved tin cans from her supper.) Other problems were huge. This is the story of how Lilian solved the biggest problem of her life — how to fly.”

Calkins Creek acquired the manuscript in early 2017, but there was still work to do. In April 2017 I submitted the final opening, which was accepted. It combines pieces from the previous versions into an evocative metaphor. I also improved the voice with some flight-related language. The final opening highlights Lilian’s problem-solving nature, captures the idea of her as a maker and tinkerer, and establishes her problem/goal.:

For Emma Lilian Todd, problems were like gusts of wind: they set her mind soaring. Sometimes the problems seemed small, like where to find metal to craft her inventions (Answer: She saved tin cans from her supper.) But soon Lilian’s challenges ballooned. This is the story of how Lilian puzzled out the most exciting problem of her day — flight.”

As you can see, it can take many years, lots of input, and many revisions to hit on that “just

right” opening. It’s a process. But if you stay flexible and open, you’ll hit on that

beginning that makes your story sparkle.

#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?

Writing

Killer Concepts: What’s Your Point?

Kirsten W. Larson

Welcome to the second installment in the “Killer Concepts” series where we’re exploring:

  • What makes a killer concept when it comes to a nonfiction (or any) book?
  • What makes an idea jump out from a writer’s notebook and demand to be written?
  • What makes editors snap it up?
  • And what makes readers flock to the book and keep turning the pages?

(NOTE: If you want to explore these ideas in detail in a workshop environment, I invite you to join me for “Reimagining Your Nonfiction Picture Book” beginning June 8 at online The Writing Barn. Learn more and sign up here.)

Last month we looked at the first test: the logine test from Blake Snyder’s SAVE THE CAT. It’s a test focused on the external elements of the story — the character, basic plot, and the hooks that will pull readers (and editors) in. Today, we are going to shift focus to the internal and universal.

The Story Genius Approach

Many authors have read Lisa Cron’s books, STORY GENIUS and WIRED FOR STORY. This test comes from STORY GENIUS, and it’s simple indeed. Cron encourages us to ask “What’s Your Point?” It’s a question she asks even the youngest writers as they work to squeeze meaning from simple story prompts. She argues that writers must begin making their point on the very first page.

Cron’s question forces us to look at two things: the universal theme (or takeaway, as I like to call it) and the protagonist’s internal conflict and arc.

The Takeaway (your point)

The best nonfiction books aren’t simply collections of interesting facts. That’s for newspapers or magazines or even the internet. There has to be a larger meaning or takeaway for young readers. What message will resonate with them when they close the book? What will they take to heart in the process of reading the story? This is the takeaway.

The best way I know to get to the takeaway is to ask Cron’s question: “What’s your point?” Here’s “the point” for some of my books:

  • Failure is to be expected, and perseverance pays off — WOOD, WIRE, WINGS, illus. Tracy Subisak
  • Anyone can be a hero and change the world —A TRUE WONDER, illus. Katy Wu
  • Discovering something new takes curiosity, hard work, and perseverance. — THE FIRE OF STARS, illus. Katherine Roy
This is the book cover for THE FIRE OF STARS, illus. Katherine Roy

All of my books are narrative. Yet, “what’s the point?” works for expository books too. One of my favorite expository books is Melissa Stewart’s PIPSQUEAKS, SLOWPOKES, AND STINKERS, illus. Stephanie Laberis. Stewart’s point is that sometimes what we see as weaknesses are really strengths. What a powerful point for kids!

This is the cover for Pipsqueaks, Slowpokes, and Stinkers by Melissa Stewart, illustrated by Stephanie Laberis

Your point, your plot

Once you have your “point” in place, it becomes the endpoint for the book. That’s where your character’s journey winds up. So who is your character at the beginning? Where do they start? It should be as far away as possible from where they wind up. That way, their journey can be long and difficult and filled with ups and downs (plot events) that will help them learn the point.

In nonfiction, we don’t make things up, but it’s all about choices. We choose where to start the journey and where it ends. We choose what plot events contribute to the point we are trying to make. If you don’t know your point, you can’t know your plot.

Expository books may not have a plot, but they do have readers who change and come to a new understanding through reading the book. Your “point” (takeaway) is still an endpoint and likely makes up the last spread of your picture book. So where is your reader at the beginning? What assumptions or misbeliefs are they toiling under? What examples will best make your point and change your reader’s thinking? What order should they be arranged for maximum effect?

Talking about takeaway is something we do in the very first week of my nonfiction revision class, because I truly believe the point we are trying to make as writers influences every choice we make in terms of structure, voice, and more. You may not know your point in your first draft. Drafting may even help you find your point, but it’s critical to lock it down in revision.

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!

Arts/Crafts, Books, Education, Homeschool, Science/Math

Make Your Own Stellar Scene

Kirsten W. Larson

Each month, I’ll spotlight a book-based educational activity teachers and homeschooling parents can use with their students. This activity was created by FIRE OF STARS illustrator Katherine Roy. It appears in our educators’ guide, which you’ll find here.

James Webb Telescope image of the Southern Ring Nebula.
Southern Ring Nebula IMAGE credit: NASA, ESA, CSA, STScI 

Make Your Own Stellar Scene

The James Webb Space Telescope was launched in 2021 and is the largest optical telescope in space. It is capable of producing high-resolution photographs of ancient, remote galaxies like no telescope before it. Show images that the James Webb Space Telescope has taken to the class. 

  1. What are the different colors and shapes in these photographs?
  2. How do the photographs make them feel?
  3. How big or small do you think these scenes are? 
  4. What marks or textures could be used to represent these scenes in a drawing? 

Explain that illustrator Katherine Roy used an old toothbrush dipped in ink and watercolor to represent the star storyline in THE FIRE OF STARS: The Life and Brilliance of the Woman Who Discovered What Stars Are Made Of. To make their own stellar scenes, students will need:

  • paper
  • old toothbrushes or paint brushes 
  • watercolor, paint, or ink 
  • water 
  • salt 
  1. Make a swirling circle in the middle of your paper. 
  2. Get a little more paint or ink on your brush and make bigger swirls. These are the gases orbiting your newly formed star.
  3. Try making some thick marks. Now try making some thin marks. What feels right to you? 
  4. Try adding spatter marks and salt to represent dust and particles.  

When the paintings are completed, display the paintings in a classroom gallery for their own view of the cosmos.  

THE FIRE OF STARS book cover
Writing

Creating luminous, lyrical nonfiction voice

Kirsten W. Larson

THE FIRE OF STARS, written by me, illustrated by Katherine Roy (Chronicle Books) releases in just 18 days, and I’m getting excited. It’s hard to believe it’s been 8 and a half years since I wrote my first draft of this (now) lyrical nonfiction book. It certainly didn’t start out that way.

Here’s the opening of the book, which I’ve transcribed below:

This is the opening spread of THE FIRE OF STARS


Wrapped in a blanket of sparkling space, 
an unformed star waits for its bright future to begin.
Cecilia kicks and cries.
Until her mother
sets her down
so Cecilia can feel with her own tiny toes
the cold and crackly snow,
which isn’t soft and warm like she expected.
It’s the first time Cecilia learns things aren’t always as they seem.

–THE FIRE OF STARS

An earlier draft my agent saw read much differently. Here it is:

“[Cecilia] was full of surprises and driven by a curiosity as wide as the universe. Young Cecilia spent hours outside watching slimy slugs slink through her garden, picking out constellations in the night sky, and counting trees among her best friends.”

What changed? Aside from starting with one, concrete scene, I learned to write lyrically thanks to Renee LaTulippe’s Lyrical Language Lab. That class was transformative for my writing, and today I want to focus on one thing I learned in that class, the use of sound devices. Sound devices add musicality to our writing, helping us set a specific mood.

Sound Devices

Renee discusses sound devices in this video on her Lyrical Language Lab YouTube channel. Some of the elements she covers include:

  • alliteration
  • assonance
  • consonance
  • rhyme

Let’s look at each sound device in turn with examples to see how it adds to the lyrical voice I’ve chosen.

Alliteration

Alliteration is when words that are close together start with the same letter or sound. For example, “Wrapped in a blanket of sparkling space,/ an unformed star waits for its bright future to begin./Cecilia kicks and cries.”

In this passage, I’ve started many word with the soft “s” sound, giving the first couple of lines a hushed sound, like a baby sleeping. Then I pivot to a sharp “k” sound for “kicks and cries” and “cold and crackly snow” mimicking the sharp cries of a baby (and the harsh snow). That’s alliteration, and I’ve used it to create a specific effect.

Assonance

This phrases above also have examples of assonance, including bright/cries and own/toes/snow. You might also notice that I picked a lot of long vowel sounds, which add the overall soft/hushed tone of the opening.

Consonance

Consonance is when words close to each other have the same consonant sound anywhere in the words. A good example of this is in the very first line, which is peppered with “p” sounds: “Wrapped in a blanket of sparkling space…” Again, these are soft consonant sounds adding to quiet mood of snow-covered stillness and of wonder.

Rhyme

In prose picture books, we don’t usually use end rhyme, but we can use internal rhyme. Internal rhyme is when words in the middle of a line rhyme. Later in the book, I have a line that reads :”Cecilia is forced to say hello to city streets full of strangers/ and good-bye to the company of trees and bees.” Trees rhymes with bees, a good example of internal rhyme.

Your Turn

Ready to apply some of these sound devices to your own work?

Think about your draft and the mood you are trying to create. Is it quiet and soothing filled with soft consonants and long vowel sounds? Or is it active and playful, with hard consonants and short vowels?

Once you’ve decided your approach, you can use tools like Thesaurus.com (for help with alliteration and consonance) and Rhymezone.com (for assonance and internal rhyme). How could you transform a sentence like “The kite flies through the air?” using the thesaurus and Rhymezone?

You could try, “The kite glides through the sky” for extra assonance. Or “The kite swoops through the sky” for alliteration. What else can you come up with? Do any of these alter the mood?

Adding musicality isn’t hard. The key with sound devices is not to overdo them. Too much alliteration, for example, can cause the reader to stumble over the words. Always read your work out loud to make sure it’s both clear and musical.

To read THE FIRE OF STARS, ask your library to order a copy or order your own. THE FIRE OF STARS is still available for preorder wherever books are sold! You can buy signed copies (with a preorder bonus postcard) through Once Upon a Time (scroll down my FIRE OF STARS page for the link.)

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.

Books, News

THE FIRE OF STARS strikes gold

Kirsten W. Larson
This is a graphic showing that THE FIRE OF STARS is a Junior Library Guild Gold Standard selection

Big news…THE FIRE OF STARS, illustrated by the amazing Katherine Roy, is a Junior Library Guild Gold Standard Selection. I am so grateful to the JLG editorial team for this honor. Each year, the JLG editorial team reads thousands of books before they are published, and selects only the best for their member librarians. 95% of the books they select go on to get starred reviews, win awards, and appear on “best of” lists. Hooray!

THE FIRE OF STARS is now being released three weeks earlier on 2/7/23. You can preorder now wherever books are sold. All the buy links are on my book page here. For signed copies and preorder goodies, order via Once Upon a Time.

Homeschool, Writing

Creativity is Messy…

Kirsten W. Larson

If I could share one thing with young writers of all ages, it’s that creativity is never a linear process. It’s always full of detours, rabbit holes, and dead ends. And that’s frustrating, but it’s also wonderful! There’s magic in that messiness.

For example, I’ve recently become reacquainted with my notebook pages from when I was first noodling around with a new structure for THE FIRE OF STARS (five years ago now!). Below are my messy and illegible notes. Don’t worry. I’ve included captions to help with the translation.

  • My first ideas for the parallel story structure: “Girl & star in sky & follow both through the pages.”
  • Playing with synonyms to find something lyrical: “collapse, break apart, fracture.”
  • Playing with rhyme: “swirl, twirl, whorl, whirl.”

Before I got to this point with THE FIRE OF STARS, I’d been researching and working on various drafts for almost three years, trying to find just the right way to tell the story of astrophysicist Cecilia Payne. But nothing had come together in quite the right way — yet.

Creating these messy scraps in my notebook through scribbling , experimenting with words, and (badly) sketching led to my eventual creative breakthrough with the book.

The process is a lot like star formation. It stars start with tiny “bits” — dust and hydrogen atoms. Soon the tiny pieces start to clump together, slowly growing until they explode in a breathtaking show of light.

This is also the way Cecilia Payne worked. She tried different things, hit obstacles, and needed a lot of patience before everything came together in her final, ground-breaking discovery.

Creativity — whether writing or science — is messy … and that’s a beautiful thing. So grab your notebook and collect scraps of words, snatches of an idea, and all your swirly scribbles.