The Great Big Bad Terrible Audition

While I tried to figure out the rest of my outline for the novel I’m writing, I started to refine a series of children’s books that I’ve written about a little girl’s dreams of being a dancer and performer. I loved the series Ballet Shoes and Theater Shoes by Noel Streatfeild when I was a kid, and I had the idea to write a children’s book that was similar, but modernized, with some elements of ancestral magic.

I have written three books so far about this little girl named Ella. In the first book, she wants to be a dancer and tries a dance class, but feels intimidated by the other girls and almost gives up on her dream. (This was inspired by my real-life experience of checking out books about ballet from the library and trying to teach myself the positions when I was little). Her mom tells her about how she gave up on drawing when she was a little girl and they make a pact that Ella will keep dancing if her mom starts drawing again. In the second book, Ella auditions for a musical and it goes terribly. She stops singing after that until she has a dream about her ancestor, who encourages her to keep singing. In the third book, she is in her first musical performance and gets sick right before the dress rehearsal. She has to deal with self-doubt about whether they even need her in the show but ends up being able to perform. (I experienced this an adult with my first major role in a musical a few years ago).

When I wrote the first book in January, I wasn’t sure that it offered anything new to the children’s book world and didn’t think that I would do anything with it. But my mentor at the time read it and felt that the voice was compelling and that a series could be well received. I am going to start looking into querying agents and children’s book publishers soon. It’s taking me so long to illustrate River’s book that I don’t think I will be able to illustrate every book that I write - and I’m okay with that!

Excerpt from book one (title TBD):

Ella had always wanted to be a dancer. When she was little, she begged her mom to send her to ballet classes. Her parents didn’t make enough money to send her to classes, so she checked out books from the library about ballet and taught herself the steps in her room. She practiced plies and pirouettes in front of her mirror, imagining that she was wearing a tutu and ballet slippers and performing on a giant stage.

One day at school, her teacher told her, “You know there’s a free after school dance program down the street? It’s for girls a little older than you, but maybe when you’re old enough you can join.”

She went home and begged and begged her moms to call the after-school program and see if they would let her in. “They don’t start girls there until they’re ten,” mama Caroline told her after she got off the phone.

“How can I possibly wait two more years?!” Ella wailed.

“But,” her mom smiled, “they said you could come watch a class and if you still want to try, then they’ll let you try.”

“Are you serious?!” Ella tackled mama Caroline with a hug. “When can I start?”

That night, as Ella was practicing her ballet moves in front of her bedroom mirror, she heard her parents talking. “She has no dance experience,” mama Caroline sounded worried. “What if she can’t dance at all? What if the other girls laugh at her?” For the first time, Ella felt a little scared. What if her mom was right?

A public domain dancer that I might use in a collage someday. Maybe I’ll still illustrate the cover??

Excerpt from The Great Big Bad Terrible Audition (book 2):

That night, Ella dreamt that she was floating on a lake in a boat made of glass. Suddenly the boat came to the edge of a waterfall, and she started to fall, tumbling head over feet through the rushing water. She landed inside a cave that was full of pink crystals. It was hard to see, but she could make out a little glimmer of light coming from the entrance. She walked towards it and found herself in a dark meadow surrounded by trees.

“Where am I?” she said. All around her suddenly she saw glowing lights. As they came closer, she could make out that they were tiny fairies, glittering in the dark. They started to land on her arms and head and all over her, and their little beating wings made buzzing sounds like hummingbirds. Her feet started to float off of the ground and she realized that they were lifting her up. They brought her up to a door in a tree, and she reached out and opened the door, stepping into the tree. The fairies all flew off in a bunch, laughing and whispering to each other. Ella found herself on the other side of the tree, in a sunny, grassy meadow, full of wildflowers and moss. There was a stone cottage tucked just into the trees, and she knew that was where she was supposed to go.

The cottage door was cracked open, and Ella stepped through. “Hello?” she said cautiously. A woman with beautiful long red hair was waiting for her.

“Ella!” she said, “you’ve arrived! Come, everyone is waiting for us.”

“Where are we going?” Ella asked. She followed the woman out of the cottage and over a hill. On the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea, a fire was lit, and several more women sat around it. They jumped up when Ella and the woman arrived and all of them hugged her. Then they led her to the fire and looked at her expectantly. Ella started to feel nervous.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she said. “Am I supposed to do something?”

“Ella,” the woman from the cottage put her hand on her arm gently. “You have to sing.”

Ella’s stomach dropped. “I can’t!” she said. “I’m no good at singing.”

“It doesn’t matter what it sounds like, it matters how it makes you feel. You have singing in your bones. You can’t push that away.”

Ella opened her mouth, but nothing came out, just like at the great big bad terrible audition. A tear rolled down her cheek. The woman pressed something into her hand. It was one of the crystals from the cave, and it glowed slightly pink in the dark.

“This will give you courage,” she said.

Ella took a deep breath. Then she started to sing. At first her voice was shaky, and she winced, but she kept going and reminded herself that it didn’t matter how it sounded. She felt joy bubbling up from her toes all the way into her fingers.

When the song finally ended, the woman from the cottage gave her a hug. “You are a queen,” she whispered in her ear, “you can do anything you want. But never stop singing.”