Today we
continue the series in which award-winning nonfiction authors discuss the joys
and challenges of the research process with an essay by Barb Rosenstock. Thank
you, Barb.
As
a nonfiction researcher/writer, I run into the problem of too little
information all the time—interesting topics that have a single book written
about them (or no books), a single primary source (or dubious ones), a few online entries (or
none). By digging deeper
(libraries, travel, interviews) I’ve turned what looked like hardly any
information into these picture books: Otis and Will Discover the Deep, Ben
Franklin’s Big Splash, The Camping Trip that Changed America, and The Secret
Kingdom. At first, a lack of information seems frustrating, but
a scrap of story often grows.
So
when an editor suggested Abigail Adams as a biography topic, I was excited.
Finally, a well-known subject! This book would be a snap to research and write,
right? No! I struggled and, for the
first time, deeply understood the problem of “too much information” that kids talk
about in nonfiction writing workshops.
Google
‘Abigail Adams.’ You will get 39,000,000 results in half a second, billions for
her husband, millions more for family members. There are dozens of books for
adults, hundreds of academic articles; more than a thousand of her original
letters are preserved.
Her shoes, lace, jewelry, needles, and utensils are held
in museums as national treasures. Replicas of her dishes, dresses and wallpaper are still sold.
I
read for years, searched thousands of photos, and scanned documents. There was
no way to tell a picture book story that covered the whole of this amazing
woman’s long life! The book needed a focus. Abigail and revolution? Abigail and
writing? Abigail and John? Abigail and her children? Abigail and politics? Abigail
and cooking?
I
was lost. There were too many potential scenes—Abigail watching a battle with
her young son, John Quincy; Abigail writing the iconic “Remember the Ladies”
letter; Abigail supervising her French cleaning staff who washed the floor by strapping
brushes to their feet. I started dozens of drafts (the first, dating to
2013.) I wrote alternate beginnings and
endings. I tried lyricism, then humor. None of these approaches seemed relevant
to kids today. I gave up. . . almost.
In early 2017, I traveled to the Massachusetts towns
where Abigail lived: Weymouth, Quincy, and Boston. With expert tour
guides, I saw her tiny birthplace, kitchens where she cooked, bedrooms where
she slept, parlors where she taught her children.
I held a few of Abigail’s
letters in my hands. Did I feel closer to her? No! Abigail seemed more
daunting—a brilliant 18th century woman with little formal education
and no legal rights who juggled an extraordinarily busy life while helping
found a new nation. Abigail was too much. I was convinced I couldn’t
write this book, or any other book, ever.
The
day a Park Supervisor led me up the narrow attic stairway at the Adams National
Historical Park homes, I was wallowing in thoughts of my incompetence. My guide explained how
Abigail housed, fed, and nursed Revolutionary soldiers in this attic while her
four children (who Abigail also fed, clothed, taught, and financially
supported) were downstairs, and her husband was off running a little thing
called the American Revolution.
Of course, I thought, Abigail cared for soldiers
and family, made bread and bullets, farmed and met
royalty, and just happened to write one of the most influential letters in
history!
I,
on the other hand, couldn’t even complete a draft of this single children’s
book! “Leave it to Abigail, ” I said out loud with plenty of sarcasm.
And
right there in Abigail’s attic, the book snapped into place. “Leave it to
Abigail!” What if those were the words? What if the focus was her competence—
her astonishing belief in herself and her abilities? What if I could
write Abigail’s story? I believed!
Abigail
Adams’ can-do spirit became my role model, as it’s been for many American women,
past heroes and girls today. Did I think Abigail never struggled? I had only to
reread her letters to learn the truth, “All things look gloomy and melancholy
around me.”[1]
All
writers struggle. With nonfiction or fiction. With too much information or too
little. Whether kids or adults. When
we move through these writing struggles, we find belief in our own competence. Even
the supremely confident Abigail Adams struggled with words, and changed hers
often.
Caption: Abigail Adams to John Adams, 17 March 1782 draft, Adams Family
Papers, Collection of the Massachusetts Historical Society
Allowing
ourselves, our children, and our students to experiment, fail, and work through writing frustration leads to competence that can’t
be gained any other way. “Great difficulties may be surmounted by patience and
persistence.”[2] You
know who wrote that, right? Right. Leave it to Abigail!
[1] Letter
from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 29 September 1778.
[2] Letter from Abigail Adams to
John Adams, 27 November 1775.
Barb Rosenstock is the author of many award-winning nonfiction and historical fiction picture books including the Caldecott Honor title The Noisy Paint Box illustrated by Mary Grandpré. Her most recent titles include Mornings with Monet, Fight of the Century, and Leave it to Abigail! Barb loves sharing stories and inspiring students in schools and libraries across the country. She lives with her family near Chicago.
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6 Responses
I needed this today as I struggle with revisions for a NF book proposal. Thank you!
Barb is one of my biography idols! It's both comforting and inspiring to read about her struggle to find the story and how she overcame it.
Yes. This exactly!
Barb. thank you so much for sharing your experiences, as well as possible solutions for when others feel the same way. I have the same problem when picking the focus for a song, & I get less space than Authors do. Going small to go wide makes sense, and is a relief. Stay well! Happy Holidays!✌🏼🎶🎨📚🌻
For some reason, I'm crying and giving you a standing ovation. Well done!
Thank you for sharing your frustration and struggle that eventually resulted in your writing an amazing book. It has encouraged me to continue as I struggle to find an interesting framework to put my research into.