Caroline Arnold, who has published over 100 nonfiction books for children, is a pro at finding information on sophisticated topics and making it fit the page limits set by her publishers.  To do this she uses captions, sidebars, glossaries, charts and maps, time lines, and lists of resources for further reading as well as authors’ notes and acknowledgements.  Caroline Arnold’s approach to getting her research into forms that responsibly inform young readers affirms my own understanding about the value of the children’s library for anyone who wants to learn about a subject from the beginning.  In addition, of course, her ideas will appeal to those of you writing informational nonfiction, whether it is for magazines, encyclopedias, newsletters, textbook chapters, or children’s or adult nonfiction books.  To see how she does this, check out some of the books listed on her author homepage.  Regardless of whether you have a child in your life, you will find these handsome books a real treat with their beautiful color photographs and well-drawn illustrations.  Caroline Arnold’s approach to putting information together may inspire you to finally start that book you’ve been meaning to write on a topic you know well and want to share with young or older readers.

The Sum of All Its Parts
by Caroline Arnold

For twenty-five years I have been writing nonfiction books for children on topics ranging from parental behavior in birds (my first book, Five Nests), to Aboriginal sacred sites in Australia (my most recent book, Uluru, Australia’s Aboriginal Heart.)   In addition to animal behavior and archeology,  I’ve also written about fossils, sports, weather, history, biography, health, outer space–in fact, just about anything that I find interesting that is suitable for kids.  My research has taken me to libraries, museums, historical sites, national parks and to every continent of the world except Antarctica.  The research process is what I like best about writing nonfiction, because for every book it is different.  With every book I learn things that I never knew before and I always come up with far more material than I can ever use.

Perhaps the most exotic site I’ve ever visited is Easter Island in the South Pacific, where I went to photograph and research my book, Easter Island: Giant Stone Statues Tell of a Rich and Tragic Past.  Although I had read about the giant statues and the people who made them a thousand years ago, nothing prepared me for standing in the ancient quarry amid dozens of half carved statues that never made it to their seaside platforms or climbing to the top of the cliff where the birdman rituals were once performed.  My personal experience on Easter Island was important for bringing a sense of immediacy to my book, but the cost of time and travel meant that I could only spend a short time there.  After I got home I needed to do extensive museum and library research as well.  It took me a year to collect everything I needed and when I was ready to write I had a box bursting with notes, brochures, books, tapes, and other research materials.  My book was for children ages ten and up so I knew I was limited to a manuscript of about 5000 words.  Several months later, after distilling the mass of material I had collected to its essential points, the manuscript was ready to turn in to my editor.

The agony of being a nonfiction writer is that the space allotted for text in the book is never enough for all that wonderful information that was discovered in the research.  This is particularly true when writing for children since the text and page length of the book are relatively short.  Even if I were able to include every detail, I don’t want to overwhelm the reader by providing more than he or she wants to know.   But there are several ways I supplement the information included in the main text and enrich the overall impact of the book: through captions, sidebars, charts, maps, time lines, projects, list of further resources, author notes and acknowledgments.

Since most books for children are widely illustrated, there are ample opportunities to add information through captions.  Minimally the caption needs to identify the illustration and show how it ties into the text, but often there is room to elaborate.  For instance, in my book Easter Island, a scenic photo showing several cultivated fields has the following caption: View from the crater Puna Pau.  Now, as in ancient times, much of Easter Island’s land is tilled for agriculture.  (Captions are almost always written in the present tense.)  Throughout the book I used captions not only to add information but to tie the photos and text together to create a more unified presentation.

Captions
Captions can also provide a way to touch on points that are interesting but not essential to the main text.   Here is an example from my book, Dinosaur Mountain, which is about the fossil discoveries at Dinosaur National Monument in northern Utah:

No one knows what color dinosaurs might have been.  Perhaps they were brightly hued, as is this Stegosaurus model displayed at the Dinosaur Valley Museum in Grand Junction, Colorado.

The photo shows a life-size Stegosaurus model painted bright orange.  Although it would have been nice to discuss the possible color of dinosaurs in my text, the focus of the book was on the dinosaur bones that had been discovered at a particular site in Utah and there was no room to discuss the color of dinosaur skin.  This was in contrast to another book, Dinosaurs All Around, whose focus was on making dinosaur models.  There I devoted a whole page spread to the subject because choosing a color for the dinosaur’s skin was an important issue for the artist.

Caption writing generally comes in the last stages of the manuscript; and may sometimes be deferred until after the manuscript has been edited.  However, I like to be thinking of possible  illustrations and their captions as I work.  My goal is to have a book where everything–text, captions and illustrations–is as closely integrated as possible.

Sidebars
Sidebars are a technique I use when I want to elaborate on points that are related to the theme but would slow the pace if they were included in the main body of the text. In my book, Dinosaurs With Feathers: The Ancestors of Modern Birds, the focus of the book is on the origin of birds and their relationship to dinosaurs.  Sidebars on fossil feathers, birds with and without teeth, and stomach stones (stones swallowed by dinosaurs to aid in digestion), allow me to provide the reader with information that reinforces the main idea but is too detailed.  I was pleased that the illustrator drew slabs of fossil rocks as background for these sidebars, a clever way to visually integrate them into the book.

Sidebars can also broaden the readership of a book.  In Shockers of the Sea, my picture book about electric fish, the short main text–printed in large type–can be read alone by younger readers.  Sidebars printed in smaller type expand the story for slightly older readers.  They add another level of information and thus double my potential readership.

Back Matter
Back matter appears after the end of the text and is often a place to put extra information.   For example, many nonfiction books include a glossary of important words at the end. Though these words may have been defined in the text, the glossary makes it easy for the reader to check a meaning later.   The glossary can also be an opportunity to include a pronunciation guide, if that hasn’t been done in the text.  This was particularly important in my book about Uluru where I had used both English and Aboriginal words for place names and species names.  Aboriginal words such as Kantju, [CARN-jaw], the name of a gorge on the northwest side of Uluru, and nganngi [NAN nee], a frog or toad, do not obey English phonetic rules.  They also use an underline for some letters, a characteristic of the Aboriginal spelling system, a point I explain in the text.

Charts are a good way to compress a mass of information into a short space.  They can provide a quick reference to dates, places and other data that is easy to list.  In my book about the weather phenomenon known as El Nino, I wanted to give a list of recent El Nino and La Nina years, and the end of the book was a logical place to do this.  The same thing is true of maps.  I like maps because they show exactly where the story takes place.  In my book about raptor migration, Hawk Highway in the Sky, I put a map at the end of the book so that readers could locate hawk-watching sites near their own homes.  (The map was created at the publishing house from information  I provided.)  In other books, such as Uluru, Australia’s Aboriginal Heart, the map was included in the main body of the text near the beginning of the book because it was important that the reader knew exactly where Uluru was in relation to the rest of Australia before reading the rest of the book.

Time lines are another type of chart that can add useful information to a book.  In Giant Shark, my book about a prehistoric relative of the great white shark, a simple time line of the origin of various animal groups makes it clear that sharks have been swimming the oceans of the Earth long before dinosaurs, mammals or birds even existed.  In my book Children of the Settlement Houses, the time line at the back of the book shows the beginnings of the settlement house movement in relation to the great wave of immigration at the turn of the century.

Projects related to the book’s content can also be included in back matter.  In Children of the Settlement Houses, I offer a recipe for popcorn balls to accompany an account of my own experiences at settlement house holiday parties when I was young.

Another item I often put in the back matter is a list of further resources.  Such a list encourages my readers to go beyond the book and expand their knowledge.  The books and articles I list as further resources are not my bibliography, though I may have used some of them for my research; rather, they are materials appropriate for young readers.  With more and more children using the internet for research, I also sometimes note web sites in the list of further resources.  I did this in my Easter Island book since there are only a few books on Easter Island, and none, except mine, for children.  The potential problem with listing web sites is that they are not permanent, and the book may stay on library shelves far longer than the web site address will be active.

An author’s note or acknowledgment can go either at the beginning or end of a book.  These are places where I thank the people and institutions that have helped me with my research and where I sometimes add information relevant to the book.  For instance, in my book Hawk Highway in the Sky, I thank HawkWatch International, the organization whose research is profiled in the book, and give contact information for them.  In this way I promote the people that helped me without making the book seem like an advertisement.  I also provide the address of the Hawk Migration Association of North America so readers can find other hawk watching sites.

With every book I write I know I haven’t done enough research unless I come up with more material than I can use.  I need to know the broader field so that I can select the appropriate parts for my project.  And yet, I always wish I could use more.  What I love about writing nonfiction are the fascinating facts, and if I can squeeze a few more into the book via captions, sidebars or other means, I know that I’ve created a richer book for my readers–a book that is more than just the main text, but a sum of all its parts.