writing

Are Writers Conferences Worth It?

 

 

 

The answer is yes. Yes, conferences are worth the money and the time it takes to go. Conferences are the place to find out just how much you have to learn as a writer or an illustrator. If you want to grow go to a conference. I’ve been to two this year, and I have a third one in June. Here’s what I’ve learned so far at each conference.

I. The Ashville Christian Writers Conference

This conference was held a the beautiful Billy Graham Cove. I was blown away by the soaring wood-beamed ceilings and house size chandeliers in the dinning room. The food and accommodations were five star and opportunities to find a serene spot to read or write or draw were in abundance.

I learned two things at this conference:

1. How to write a 25 word pitch. This was incredibly helpful and though I am still working on the nuances of my pitches, I am able to clearly articulate each project in a simple, memorable way. If you don’t have a 25 word pitch you need one.

2. Pitching to editors is not scary. I thought I’d be terrified and that editors would scoff at my stories or worse, tell me I should just quit. Yeah, I always think the worst. I pitched to at least five editors and each one was gracious and patient. I felt like a new born puppy trying to open it’s eyes for the first time, but I learned so much. I even had an agent from Hartline Literary agency ask for a proposal. (I’m working on it!)

I learned a lot more than that, but you’ll just have to join me next year to discover more. https://www.ashevillechristianwritersconference.com/

This is me with my friend Maggie Rowe and then her with a bunch of famous people.

 

 

 

II. SCBWI’S Marvelous Midwest Conference

This conference was less than ten minutes from my house in Naperville, IL.  This conference was held at a Marriot. The food was a B+. I didn’t stay the night as my own bed is my favorite. The Lobby had soft couches and comfy chairs for chatting with people and lots of sturdy tables for setting up computers or laying out art work.

Here are the top three things I learned at this conference.

1. My 25 word pitch needs work. I went to a session called high concept and discovered my pitch lacked a little luster. In fact, what my pitch really lacked was a strong hook with a unique twist. Honestly, I came home trying to decide if Una the pig could pull off a story line where she is saved from the clutches of the evil farmer by a mafia boss pig named Brutus who trains her to be his right hand pig so together they can burn down the slaughter house, free their families and take over the farm…. NAW! That’s crazy. Hmm..

2. Illustrators have portfolios. Well, you don’t know what you don’t know. That’s why you go to conferences. I have this website with my stuff, but all the illustrators I met at this conference also have a physical portfolio. I went out yesterday and bought a portfolio and am beginning to build it.

I titled this picture: “Courage, dear heart.” After one of my favorite quotes from C.S. Lewis’s Narnia series.  It takes courage to begin this process. But I’m certain the outcome will be useful and beautiful.

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“Courage, dear heart”

3. There are Christian editors at the SCBWI conventions. Linda Howard from Tyndale was there. I went to as many of her sessions as I could and gleaned all I could from her talks on what Christian editors are looking for, and how the Christian market is doing. I also loved her talk on marketing your own books. She suggested we need a blog and we should write about “stuff”.  Okay, we should write things that reveal who we are as a writer and illustrator. Things other people might want to read.

Here’s the link to SCBWI if you are not a member, you should be. Https://www.scbwi.org/  If you are a member come find me: Joleen Steel

I have one more conference this year. I just hope I can figure out poor Una’s story before I go, she really is too nice of a pig to work for Brutus.

 

E4E9D1C2-C5CF-4E2F-B36E-0C985B5CBAC5Joleen Steel is a Canadian illustrator and author who lives in Warrenville, IL with her husband Dave and their youngest son Matt. Joleen teaches kindergarten at a classical Christian School and writes for The Old Schoolhouse Magazine. As the Executive Director for Camping Stick Kids (campingstickkids.org), Joleen illustrates and writes the ministry’s books and curriculum. Camping Stick Kids has been featured on Focus on the Family’s Adventures in Odyssey.  www.campingstickkids.org

children, writing

Striped Socks and Flamingo Pink Shoes

So this morning I woke up with an old Sunday School song in my head.

This is the day,

This is the day

That the Lord has made

Let us rejoice and be glad in it!

I am often struck by the joy of the Lord in the early moments of my morning. This song made me not only glad, but caused me to pull out a favorite pair of pink shoes. I wore them to church. Though I fell short of all out dancing, I did a lot of tapping of my toes and hand raising. I came home and decided to post the little story below. I’ve been working on it and thought you all might enjoy it. It’s not a Christian story, but it certainly reminds me of the comfort & joy we have in our ABBA Father, God.

Polka dot striped socks with flamingo pink shoes By Joleen Steel

Polka dot striped socks with flamingo pink shoes

Dance me down the sidewalk

Prance me up the lane

Silky ribbons flying 

Twirling around my mane

Leaping up the park steps

Whooshing past the trees

Glittering sand is flying

Circling around my knees

Dancing, prancing, twirling, stopping

Listening to the jazz band play

Toes are tapping, jazzy snapping

Flamingo shoes on a sunny day

Polka dot striped socks with flamingo pink shoes

Dance me up the boardwalk

Prance me through the crowd

Silky ribbons sailing

As we ride the merry-go round

Galloping round the circle

Up and down we go

Unicorns and horses fly

Around the lighted show

Galloping, prancing, sailing, flying

Slowing down, it’s time to leave

Feet are jumping, heart is thumping

Flamingo shoes on a lovely eve

Polka dot striped socks with flamingo pink shoes

Waltz me down the glowing path

Turn me round and round

Silky ribbons blowing

Drooping to the ground

Reaching up to get a hug

Watching stars fill up the sky

Head is dreamy, moon is gleaming

Trying not to close my eyes

Waltzing, turning, reaching, dreaming

Wrapping arms around you tight

Ready to go home to bed

Flamingo shoes on a sparkling night

Polka dot striped socks with flamingo pink shoes

Sway me down the hallway

Tuck me into bed

Silky ribbons falling

Beside my sleepy head

Looking out my window

Lamps glow in the street

Tomorrow we will dance again

But now we need to sleep

Swaying, tucking, looking, sleeping

Shoes are sitting out of sight

Dreaming of tomorrow

waiting for the morning light

 

 

children, writing

And then Grandma Sneezed!

A little Thanksgiving story for all of you! I’ll add illustrations a few at a time so keep coming back to read and giggle!

And Then Grandma Sneezed Written and Illustrated by Joleen Steel

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Uncle Peter carried in the corn.

Aunt Sue made the mashed potatoes.

Cousin Ed cooked the squash.

Grandpa Joe carved the turkey.

Grandpa Carl spiraled  the ham.

Uncle John canned the cranberry sauce.

Auntie Kim baked the rolls.

Granny  Kate molded the jello.

Grandma Jean whipped up the  pumpkin pies.

Mom boiled the gravy.

Dad blessed  the food.

 

And then……..

Grandma Jean sneezed.

Ahchoo! Ahchoo!  Ahchoo!  AAAHHHHHHChooooooo!

 

Uncle Peter wore the corn.

Aunt Sue mashed the mashed potatoes.

Cousin Ed squished the squash.

Grandpa Joe tangled with  the turkey.

Grandpa Carl speared the ham.

Uncle John crashed on the cranberry sauce.

Auntie Kim rolled away with the rolls.

Granny Kate jiggled with the jello.

And  Grandma Jean….       Cleaned it all up.

children, writing

Cupcakes and Tea

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Cupcakes & Tea

Everyone come to the willows.  Join me for cupcakes & tea. 

The table cloth will be neatly pressed and the silver will shine like a glittering sea.

Everyone come to the table and sit beside the stream. 

The flowers will be yellow and pink and the bowls full of sugar and cream. 

Everyone come to the party. Wear your hat and gloves. 

The cupcakes will be scrumptious and the sun will shine down from above. 

Everyone come and be welcome. Bring your dearest friends. 

The dishes will be darling and the tea pot steaming with flowery blends.

Everyone come to the meadow. We’ll dance upon the lawn. 

Our dresses will be fresh and clean and we’ll sing the merriest songs.

Everyone come and be still as the sun sets over the trees. 

The blankets and pillows will be soft and warm as the stars peek through the leaves. 

Yes, everyone come to the willows. Join me for cupcakes & tea. 

You will know that I’m your friend and you are loved by me.

-Joleen Steel 2018

children, writing

A Wonky Donky kinda Day!

Yes, I know there’s a real popular book called wonky donkey out there. I wrote this for my littles and have just read it to them for the giggles. I figure it’s one of those stories that’s just for us.

A Wonky Donky kinda Day:

Written & Illustrated by Joleen Steel

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On Monday Muffin the donkey went out for a walk; nibbled some dandelions and fell off the dock. Clambering out she started to bray “Well, that’s a wonky donkey kinda day!”

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On Tuesday Muffin had a package to deliver; trotted cross the bridge and tumbled into the river. Splashing out she began to bray, “Well, that’s a wonky donkey kinda day!” 

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On Wednesday Muffin went for a jog; dashed over the meadow and slipped into the bog.Sloshing out she just had to bray, “Well, that’s a wonky donkey kinda day!”

The bog

On Thursday Muffin had a good shake; rolled down the hill and plopped into the lake. Scrambling out she let out a bray, “Well, that’s a wonky donkey kinda day!”

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On Friday Muffin began to stray; tripped on a bush and toppled into the bay.  Swimming out she gave a loud bray, “Well, that’s a wonky donkey kinda day!”

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On Saturday Muffin munched on a tree; rolled off the cliff and plunged into the seaSurfing out she yelled as she brayed, “Well, that’s a wonky donkey kinda day!”

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On Sunday Muffin put on her spectacles; sat in a chair and looked out the windows. Sighing now she whinnied and brayed, “If I wear my glasses I’ll be okay,”

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That afternoon Muffin went for a walk, Nibbled some dandelions and stood on the dock. She took the package she had to deliver; trotted cross the bridge and looked at the river, She went for a jog and inspected the bog, had a good shake and walked round the lake, Saw the bush and gazed at the bay, munched on a tree and took joy in the sea,

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That’s when she heard all her friends holler. “Muffin come on down to the water!”

So Muffin lept right past the tree and somersaulted gracefully into the sea. 

Singing with joy she let out a bray, “This is the perfect donkey day.” 

THE END

Note: If you like this little story, I’ve got kaboodles more! Subscribe to keep receiving my stories! I’d love to know you are reading so drop me a hey there over on my Face Book or Pinterest page.

children

Bartholomew Mouse

2EAB8306-CA3E-4956-B227-7DDBA4342932Bartholomew mouse loves autumn.

He loves the chill west wind that scoops up seeds and blows them high into the evening sky. 

He loves how the sun sets the tops of the birch trees aflame with light.

Bartholomew rows his very own skiff across the mirrored pond; gazing at the iridescent heads of mallard ducks, and listening to the bullfrogs. 

It is not safe to be out but he is drawn by the splashing minnows and the scent of the lilies glowing white on their green lily pads.

Bartholomew adjusts the tulip tree leaf over his boat. The broad leaf hides him from the watchful eye of the hawk perched in the pine tree. Hopefully, the red tailed hunter is more interested in the bunnies scampering over the north meadow, than a small field mouse.

Bartholomew knows it’s time to scuttle home when the great horned owl calls through the dusk. He does not wish to meet that great and mighty creature. 

The skiff slides onto a sandy cove under the bridge. Bartholomew pulls his boat into the tall grass and ties it to a stump. A large greedy eye peers at him from the grass. The farmer’s cat leaps, grabs, misses, and rolls. Bartholomew wastes no time scrambling up the hill and into his home just under the big rock. He knows cat will be there waiting all night. He will have to stay in now and dream of autumn from his warm house. 

So he dreams of stars gleaming in a navy sky. He dreams of sailing his skiff under a harvest moon. Bartholomew dreams, knowing that tomorrow he will venture out into the wide world again to see autumn. 

By Joleen Steel October 2018