Revise with Confidence with Quick Fixes for Common Manuscript Issues

Discover practical, simple strategies to identify and resolve issues in your children’s book draft, ensuring it captivates young readers and aligns with today’s publishing standards.

As children’s authors, we carry the enormous privilege of shaping young minds through story. But transforming a bright idea into a polished manuscript that resonates with children isn’t always smooth sailing. For this final guest post, I wanted to share some practical ways to help you troubleshoot your manuscript and ensure it connects with readers in a meaningful way.

Finding Your Why

Every story begins with a spark, but sustaining that fire through the long journey of writing and revising requires a clear sense of purpose. Why this story? Why are you the one to tell it? And what do you hope your readers will take away?

Eyes That Speak to the Stars 
by Joanna Ho

Your “why” is more than just a guiding light—it’s the emotional core that keeps your story authentic. In the book, The Rabbit Listened by Cori Doerrfeld, the heartfelt exploration of empathy and emotional resilience stemmed from the author’s reflections on personal grief. Similarly, in Eyes That Speak to the Stars by Joanna Ho (2022), the theme of self-acceptance is woven seamlessly into a narrative that uplifts Asian representation. A strong sense of purpose helps focus your manuscript and inspires young readers to connect deeply with your message.

Understanding Your Ideal Reader

Picture your ideal reader. How old are they? What are their fears, joys, and questions? Tailoring your story to a specific child ensures it has focus and emotional resonance. The eight-year-old who devours middle-grade adventures in Maya and the Robot by Eve L. Ewing (2021) differs from the toddler captivated by the bold imagery and sparse text of Peekaboo Farm by Camilla Reid (2020). Writing for a clear audience helps you create relatable, impactful characters and situations.

Crafting a Strong Main Character

A child’s connection to your book often hinges on your protagonist. Is your main character driving the story? Are they making decisions, solving problems, and experiencing growth? Children want to root for someone who reflects their dreams and struggles. In Amy Wu and the Warm Welcome by Kat Zhang (2022), Amy’s relatable desire to include a new friend while staying true to herself is a perfect example of an active and endearing protagonist.

Incorporating Conflict and Resolution

Big Feelings by Alexandra Penfold
and Suzanne Kaufman

Conflict is the beating heart of your story’s tension. Whether it’s internal, external, or a mix of both, the challenges your character faces should feel authentic and age-appropriate. Look at Big Feelings by Alexandra Penfold and Suzanne Kaufman (2021), where the characters navigate complex emotions like anger and frustration in a way that’s engaging and comforting for young readers. Build suspense and drama, but always guide your readers toward a satisfying resolution. 

Balancing Text and Illustration

For illustrated works like picture books and graphic novels, the partnership between text and visuals is paramount. The words should complement the illustrations, leaving space for the art to enrich the storytelling. In I Talk Like a River by Jordan Scott and Sydney Smith (2020), the poetic narrative and evocative illustrations work together to depict the emotional journey of a boy overcoming his stutter. Let your illustrator—even if that’s you—carry part of the storytelling load.

Adding the Element of Surprise

The Barnabus Project 
by The Fan Brothers

Children’s books thrive on delight and discovery. Does your story contain twists or moments that catch readers off guard? The Barnabus Project by The Fan Brothers (2020) captivates with its unexpected turns in an underground world of failed animal experiments, keeping young readers guessing until the end. Surprises, whether they're humorous or poignant, enhance the story’s memorability and make it an enduring favorite.

Choosing Words Carefully

Every word in a picture book carries weight, and brevity is your ally. Are your sentences efficient and evocative? George Saunders’ advice in A Swim in a Pond in the Rain applies well here: “Every element should be a little poem, freighted with subtle meaning that is in connection with the story’s purpose.” Modern picture books like Outside, Inside by LeUyen Pham (2021) demonstrate how concise text can evoke complex emotions and vivid imagery. 

Showing, Not Telling

Bring your story to life by dramatizing events rather than explaining them. Sensory details and emotional cues invite readers into your world. In Blue Floats Away by Travis Jonker (2021), the gentle yet vibrant description of a melting iceberg’s journey immerses children in an environmental tale without overexplaining. Draft expansively, then pare down to essential, evocative language.

Leveraging Mentor Texts

The Year We Learned to Fly 
by Jacqueline Woodson
and Rafael López

Even experienced writers benefit from mentor texts. What five books resonate with your story’s tone, theme, or style? Recent works like The Year We Learned to Fly by Jacqueline Woodson and Rafael López (2022) or How to Catch a Clover Thief by Elise Parsley (2021) offer valuable insights into pacing, language, and narrative structure. Let these books inspire you as you refine your manuscript.

Pressure Test Your Prose By Reading it Aloud

The ultimate test of a children’s book is how it sounds when read aloud. Share your story with a trusted friend or a young reader. Are the rhythms engaging? Do the words flow effortlessly? Listening to yourself read can reveal clunky phrasing or uneven pacing, helping you polish the manuscript to perfection.

Diagnosing Common Issues

If your manuscript isn’t quite landing, step back and reassess. Are the stakes high enough? Is the theme clear? Are the language and concepts age-appropriate? Troubleshooting is about asking hard questions and being open to change. As you work, remember: every great book began as a messy draft once upon a time.

How to Ensure Your Story Has Heart

The art and craft of writing children's books that create lasting connections with readers

With Valentine's Day on the horizon, I thought I'd go a little deeper into the concept that's already top of mind for many of us kidlit folks this time of year: Heart.

Every story, regardless of genre or audience, has a core—a central truth that resonates long after the last page is turned. For children’s authors, understanding and amplifying that truth is the difference between a story that’s merely read and one that’s cherished. The heart of your story isn’t just its plot or characters; it’s the emotional core that ties everything together and lingers with your readers.

The heart of a story is what moves readers, captivates them, and makes them feel seen. It’s the universal theme or emotional truth that beats beneath every action, every decision, every turn of the page. Stories with heart aren’t necessarily sentimental, but they are always deeply felt. They have the power to connect across ages and experiences—something especially important in writing for children, where stories often become foundational in shaping a reader’s worldview.

What the Heart of Your Story Is (and Why It Matters)

I Love You For Miles and Miles,
by Alison Goldberg,
illustrated by Mike Yamada

The heart of your story is the "why" behind the "what." It’s the deeper meaning that drives the narrative forward and gives it purpose. Without heart, even the most intricately plotted story risks feeling hollow. The heart is what transforms a sequence of events into a journey worth taking.

When we talk about heart, we’re talking about what your story wants to say at its most essential level. Maybe it’s about the courage it takes to stand up for yourself, the bittersweet beauty of letting go, or the enduring power of friendship. Whatever it is, it’s the thread that ties your story together. For children, who often experience books on both an emotional and formative level, stories with heart create a safe space to explore big feelings and complex ideas.

Stories with heart aren’t just memorable—they’re meaningful. They give your readers something to hold onto and reflect on, long after they’ve finished the book. That’s why identifying and staying true to the heart of your story is so important. It’s your north star, guiding every choice you make in your writing.

Finding the Heart of Your Story

Identifying the heart of your story begins with asking the right questions. Start by digging into your character’s journey. What is their deepest struggle? What do they long for, and what stands in their way? Look beyond the surface of your plot to uncover the emotional truths driving your story forward.

1. Examine Your Character’s Arc: Every story has a character who changes—maybe in small ways, maybe in big ones. What is your protagonist learning? How are they growing? These internal shifts are often a direct reflection of your story’s heart. If your main character discovers the courage to be themselves, your story’s heart might center on authenticity or bravery.
2. Consider the Central Conflict: Look at the challenges your character faces. Conflict isn’t just about external events; it’s often a mirror for the emotional stakes of the story. For instance, a quest to find a lost treasure might also be about finding self-worth or discovering the value of connection.
3. Ask Yourself "Why": Why are you writing this story? Why does it matter to you? The stories we write often come from a deeply personal place. If you can identify what drew you to this idea, you’re already on the trail of its heart.
4. Think About Your Audience: What do you want your readers to feel when they close the book? How do you hope your story will resonate with them? Whether your readers are toddlers, teens, or somewhere in between, your story’s heart should offer something that feels true to their world.

Writing With the Heart in Mind

Pokko and the Drum,
by Matthew Forsythe

Once you’ve found the heart of your story, the next step is weaving it into every element of your writing. Think of it as an invisible thread that holds the narrative together. Every scene, every character decision, and every word should serve this central truth.

Anchor Your Plot: Make sure your story’s heart drives the action. If your story is about belonging, each plot point should reflect your character’s struggle to find their place.
Deepen Your Characters: A story with heart requires characters who feel real. Their actions, decisions, and even mistakes should all stem from the emotions at the core of the story.
Refine Your Language: Choose words that carry weight. In picture books, every word matters—lean into language that amplifies the emotions you’re trying to convey. For longer works, like middle grade or YA, take the time to create moments of emotional resonance within the narrative.
Revisit and Revise: As you revise, keep the heart of your story front and center. Ask yourself: Does this scene strengthen the emotional core, or is it pulling the story in a different direction? Revision is where the heart of a story often emerges most clearly, so don’t be afraid to cut what doesn’t fit.

Why Heart Matters Most of All

Children’s literature has the unique ability to nurture empathy, curiosity, and connection. When we write stories with heart, we’re giving readers a mirror to see themselves and a window to see others. Whether it’s the simple, powerful message of a picture book or the layered complexity of a young adult novel, a story with heart is one that readers carry with them.

Your story’s heart is something you return to again and again throughout your writing process. It’s what makes your story yours. It’s what makes your story matter, not just on Valentine's Day, but every day of the year.

Cara J. Stevens is a writer, editor, and book coach with over 20 years of experience in children’s publishing. Based in Los Angeles, she specializes in helping writers craft their stories across genres, offering services in developmental editing, book coaching, and creative workshops. Cara served as the 2023 SCBWI-L.A. Mentor, and contributes frequently to Kite Tales, the SCBWI Southern California blog. Her most recent children’s book is the Mean Girls Little Golden Book, illustrated by Viven Wu and Chivaun Fitzpatrick (Little Golden Books). She has been an SCBWI member since 1996. Her podcast, Picture Perfect, features interviews with kidlit professionals and quick writing tips, and can be accessed on most podcast streaming platforms. Learn more at carajstevens.com.

 

The Power of Less

Write Picture Books with Impact Using Fewer Words

Writing a picture book is a bit like packing for a trip in a tiny carry-on bag. You have limited space, so every item you choose—every word—has to earn its place. The challenge isn’t just about keeping the word count low; it’s about making those words powerful enough to carry half the story while leaving room for the illustrations to shine.

Picture books today are getting shorter. Most traditionally published picture books land somewhere between 500 and 700 words, spread over 32 pages less front and back matter. That’s around 16 words per page—just enough to guide the reader while sparking the illustrator’s imagination. And, just as important, enough to hold a young child’s attention without asking too much of their developing focus.

So how do you make those few words count? Here are a few tricks.

Less is More--Why Fewer Words Matter

If you’re used to writing longer forms, the word count for a picture book can feel cramped. You might be used to describing every detail or be tempted to explain every action. But here’s the truth: your words and the illustrations are partners in storytelling. Words don’t have to do all the work—they need to do just enough to move the story forward, set the tone, and spark emotion.

The illustrations can handle the heavy lifting of description and mood. For instance, a sentence like “Max crashed through the tangled branches, his face red with fear” might be reduced to just “Max ran for his life.”The illustrator can show the tangled branches, the panic in Max’s expression, and the movement of the moment.

“The writer that prunes ruthlessly is the one who becomes published.” 

– Margot Finke, How to Make Editors Eager to Read Your Picture Book

Cross-Examine Every Word: Be the Bouncer at Club Story

Here’s a tip from writer George Saunders that I love: treat every word as if you’re a bouncer at the door of Club Story. If a word isn’t contributing—if it doesn’t move the plot forward, deepen the emotion, or delight the reader—it’s out. No exceptions.

Picture books thrive on rhythm and economy. Sentences with multiple clauses? Split them. Big, abstract words? Swap them for simple, concrete ones. 

The result? It’s cleaner, more rhythmic, and leaves space for the illustrations to tell the rest.

Pro Tip: Keep an eye out in your manuscript for sentences joined by “and”. That could be a sign that your sentence could be shortened and condensed. 

Stand your ground or give some? Determining the non-negotiables of your work.

I am a pleaser.

A "yes" person.

I'm certainly getting better about this as I get older, but I've accepted that it's in my nature to make others happy. Sometimes to my own detriment.

"Ellie, can you help us design a new school mascot?" Sure. "Would you read my manuscript... again.?" You bet. "How about being the SCBWI guest blogger for the month of July, even though you're finding out about this in June?" Why not? (Actually, this last one has been a lot of fun and I'm going to miss posting!)

Now, I don't agree to anything that I know will make me miserable, and to be honest, I've gained a lot of opportunities and connections by being so darn agreeable. However, when it comes to my artistic vision versus an editors' desires for the work, it can be hard to know when and where to stand my ground. 

These conflicts occur throughout the process of creating a book, from conception to publication, but I personally struggle with this most when resolving line art edits. Line art is a stage of book illustration that is more refined than loose sketches, but not all the way to full color, final art. Not all illustrators create line art, many go from sketches to finals, but I personally like this in-between stage as I think it results in fewer edits and changes of final art.

Most editorial suggestions are easily resolvable or ones where I can clearly see I've erred and need to fix my work. And I remind myself frequently, that at this point in my career, my editor and AD likely have many years of experience and many, many books under their belt. Their suggestions are the result of careful observation of what does and does not work in publishing. Not only that, but I have found that all the editors and ADs I've worked with are very considerate of the illustrator's vision, time, and energy and aren't capricious with their suggestions.

Sometimes however, I've made a particular choice as an artist because I think it elevates the work in some way and this is where I have the hardest time letting go. I want to be agreeable, but well, I also want my way. Case in point, the project I'm currently working on involves a highly anthropomorphized sea star. (He's complete with a mustache, windbreaker, and microphone. You're going to love him.) In one panel, the sea star is viewed from the back and you can see his grooves lined with many tiny tube feet. The editor feels this is coming across in an awkward way, but I think it's really funny to have something so realistic on such an anthropomorphized character.

In another project about monarch butterfly migration, I named a fictional school in the background after a murdered butterfly activist, Homero Gómez González. For me, this is an homage to a conservationist who selflessly worked to point out the dangers of tourism and logging to monarch populations. For the editor, there are potential legal issues with using the name and permissions may need to be considered. For the time being, they've asked me to leave the school without a name.

So how does one decide where to stand one's ground or to give way? How do we balance our vision, while remaining "easy to work with?" Here are some questions I try to ask myself when making these decisions:

• Does my vision offer something unique to the work? What does it offer? (Humor, education, an opportunity for personal reflection, etc.)
• Do I have expertise or experience that lends my opinion more weight on this particular matter? (This is especially important with nonfiction work.)
• Is my decision based on personal or universal values? What values and why is that important to me?
• How much time and energy will be involved in making the change?
• If I make the requested change, how will I feel when I look at it (repeatedly) in the final product? Will I feel regret every time I turn to that page? 

Regarding the sea star, I've decided to explain my reasoning for keeping it the way it is, while agreeing to try a couple different perspectives. I think it offers something unique, but not essential, and it won't bother me terribly if it doesn't make it in the final book. On the school naming, I'm still awaiting the editor's final say on the matter. It offers something educational for readers and I feel its inclusion manifests values of gratitude and integrity, enough so that it would be worth seeking permission, if it's needed.

What factors do you consider or questions do you ask when deciding the non-negotiables of your work? Please share in the comments below!

Ellie Peterson is an author and illustrator of many picture books including HOW TO HUG A PUFFERFISH and SCHOOL IS WHEREVER I AM and a rather poor player of the ukulele. Find out more about Ellie and her work at elliepetersonart.com. 

"Time is the Best Editor" - Excellent Advice from Author/Illustrator Eugene Yelchin

Eugene Yelchin, an equally adept author and illustrator, is a National Book Award finalist for The Assassination of Brangwain Spurge, co-authored with M. T. Anderson,

and the recipient of the Newbery Honor for Breaking Stalin’s Nose.

He received the SCBWI Golden Kite Award for The Haunting of Falcon House,

the National Jewish Book Award for illustrating The Rooster Prince of Breslov,

and SCBWI’s Tomie DePaola Award!

In a breakout session at this past weekend's #LA19SCBWI, Eugene gave a talk about time in picture books that I attended. He's brilliant, and one of the most resonant pieces of advice he shared was this:

Take your story as far as you can bring it, and then stop.
Let it sit for several months.
Five or six months later, look at it.
You'll see what it needs.

"Time is the best editor."

Great advice, and I can vouch from personal experience that it works.

Thanks, Eugene!

Illustrate and Write On,
Lee