The Stuff I Took to Encore

Across from the sign-in table at Encore was a table of books for sale, by the people giving presentations.  And uh-oh.  All of them were novels.  I stood there with my heart in my stomach wondering how I could have so thoroughly misread the event info.  YA novels are awesome, and I would like to write some myself eventually, but right now my focus is on picture books.  And I'm the dweeb who shows up to a convention of novelists with a portfolio full of picture book art.

So I asked myself "What would Castle do?"  I marched (slunk) in, walked proudly (circled warily) to an empty seat, and laughingly introduced myself as the only dork in the room who was working on a picture book.  And I was immediately informed by some very nice folks that I wasn't alone, and in fact there was another picture book writer there at our table.

I can't say that I did a great job of working the room there at Encore, but thanks to the wonderful woman who made me feel so at home there at that first table, I came out of my shell enough to have a dozen good conversations.  For my first-ever convention, I think I did pretty well.

My big honkin' portfolio thing made me feel very conspicuous at first; but after showing it off a bit, I flipped to feeling like I really had my act together in the stuff department.  This is what I brought along:

Instead of going with the standard plastic artist's book, I used a scrap book.  It was, surprisingly, more professional looking.  Also, cheaper.  A bit heavy, though.

Inside: pockets with samples of the development art for my manuscript, and the manuscript itself.  Tucked into the front window are business cards, regrettably made in haste.  

My business card design, alas, was a sad wreck.  Never use a cheap laptop with crummy screen to produce colors!  Also, calling yourself an author is a faux pas if your work has not yet been published.  Technically, if you count self-publication, I am an author.  But since my goal is to be published by an actual publishing house, I should still be calling myself just a "writer".  Oops.

Also tucked into that front flap is the World's Smallest Dummy Book.

The World's Smallest Dummy Book!  Amusing that the crowning glory of my portfolio is small enough that it should come with a magnifying glass.  But I was able to use that as an ice-breaking joke, and just about everyone I showed it to read it with enthusiasm.

Why is it so small?  It's not a final dummy book, of the sort I would send to potential publishers.  It's what I put together as a test, to make sure the text works in 32 pages, and to match the text with images for the first time.  This is how I made it:

Those are three-by-five cards, with the text of the manuscript taped on.  I sketched out the images onto these cards with a sharpie.  Then I photocopied them.  I then cut-and-pasted the photocopies some more, setting up pages with fronts and backs properly aligned, and then I had that mess copied on double-sided prints.  Then I cut out the pages and stapled them.

I would love to show the interior sketches here, but at this point I need to keep the art off of the internet if I ever hope to get it published.  Kerfoo.

I got some ego-boosting compliments from Encore-goers about my art, which doesn't surprise me given that I was a trained illustrator in a room full of mostly non-artists.  But, surprisingly, I also got great compliments on my verse!  There was one person who told me that my verse didn't sound at all forced.  Coming from a writer, I treasure that feedback.

Moving forward, I would like to hook up a critique group in my area.  I got a couple of leads there at Encore.  I assume it'll take a while for that to happen, though.  In the mean time, it is time for me to move along to the final dummy book.  But in order for that to happen, I could really use a giant cork board so that I can pin the full-sized sketches on the wall in order.  Kind of like this:

Hey, lookie there!  Those are some big sheets of homasote freshly covered in white paint.  Now I just have to bribe my husband into holding them up while I screw them onto the walls.  Then my studio will feel pleasantly like a classroom back in RISD's illustration building.  I never thought I would miss that neglected old tub of a building enough to imitate it.  Next thing I know, I'll be beating on a piece of pipe with a wrench to simulate the noises made by the radiators.