An Author’s Perspective on Author Visits

Kevin Miller

Why You Should Host Them at Your School and How to Maximize the Opportunity

By Kevin Miller

Let me start by recounting my worst experience, precisely because it was the exception.

It happened on a Friday at the end of a weeklong tour of Saskatchewan. I had driven out from my home in Kimberley, BC, the previous Sunday and then traveled from town to town each day after that, sometimes driving up to three hours in the afternoon after doing as many as five writing workshops with various classes/grade levels. I stayed in cheap motels to cut down on costs, and I even skipped lunch each day to save money and to ensure I didn’t put on too much weight by surrendering to my predilection for fast food.

I’d just spent the morning in a little town where I had one of my most positive experiences of the tour. The teachers were enthusiastic and helpful, and the kids were excited to meet a real live author. I’d also sold a lot of books — always a plus. I had just one more stop: an afternoon-long workshop in a nearby town where I would be working with a group of grade nine students,  and then I could begin the 13-hour drive home.

As I pulled away from the first town at noon with just enough time to make it to the next community before classes started, I was feeling good. It was late spring, and the weather was amazing, making me nostalgic for my days growing up on the prairies and the excitement that came when the snow melted, and pools of water formed for a few days where they didn’t exist otherwise.

Early warning signs

That feeling of bliss ended almost as soon as I entered the next school. When I checked in at the front desk, I discovered the teacher who had booked me wasn’t there that day — always a bad sign. That meant whoever was going to facilitate my visit was probably doing that person a favour or had been assigned the task and probably felt ambivalent about it, or worse.

Sure enough, after greeting me, the first words out of the teacher’s mouth as she escorted me to the classroom were, “We didn’t tell them you were coming.”

I looked at her in surprise. “Why not?”

“Because if we had, they would have all skipped out for the afternoon.”

“So let me get this straight,” I said. “They have no idea I’m coming or who I am?”

She nodded. “That’s right. But don’t worry. They’re a pretty rambunctious group, but we’ll have lots of staff members there to help keep them in line.”

This might be a good time to note that I have spent a fair amount of time over the past two decades teaching creative writing in all sorts of situations all over North America, the UK, and Australia, so I had encountered my share of recalcitrant students.

Perhaps more pertinent to this situation, in university I focused my studies on how to process young offenders through the justice system without deepening their criminal identity. Once I graduated, I spent a year applying what I had learned by working in a couple of youth custody facilities where only the strong survived — and I’m talking about the staff, not the inmates. I’d dealt with some of the worst kids out there and survived. So, worried? No I wasn’t worried.

That is, until I entered that classroom.

A hostile environment

First of all, it was hot — and packed. Two classes of sweaty grade nines crammed into a room designed for half that number. The windows were open, but that didn’t seem to help.

As I struggled to connect my laptop to the SmartBoard, sifting through a tangle of cords, I fielded a few questions from a snarky student in the front row who wanted to know who I was and what I was doing there. Others joined in. I joked with them, trying to break the ice and build a rapport, but I could tell they were gearing up for “substitute teacher syndrome.” It was a hot Friday afternoon at the end of a long week, and they just wanted to close things out by hassling the bald guy.

Things didn’t get any better once I started. I do a number of different workshops on all aspects of writing, including how to create a story premise, how to create a villain, something I call the “Wheel of Story,” dialogue, description, and so on. What all my workshops have in common is that they are highly interactive. I often feel like I’m doing improv as I throw ideas out to students and then spontaneously work with them to build a story right there in class. I’m consistently amazed at the incredible ideas we manage develop within a space of 45–60 minutes. That day, we had twice that amount of time and twice the typical number of students, but it was one of those rare moments when the magic didn’t happen.

I have a bad feeling about this . . .

First of all, as can be the case with grade nine students, when I threw out a scenario and asked for ideas, I was met by a stony silence. Some students just sat and glared at me. Others chatted with each other as if I wasn’t there. The remainder doodled in their notebooks or stared at the clock, willing it to speed up. That said, I do recall one or two sets of eyes in the room who seemed like they were vibing with what I was saying and appreciated my being there, but they were too terrified of the ringleaders to speak up.

When I did get answers, after some prodding from the staff members present, they were from students who were purposely trying to sabotage the exercise. I tried to roll with the punches, pulling out every tool that had worked everywhere else, but I wasn’t getting anywhere. This was the quintessential tough crowd. The sense of resentment of having to be in that room with me was palpable.

About thirty minutes into the experience, I was so discouraged that I felt like walking out, requesting my check from the front desk, and going home. It felt like an utter waste of my time, and I was getting angry — which is rare for me. But it had been a long week for me too, and I was tired.

But I soldiered on, feeling relieved when I finally reached the point where I could stop talking and get them to spend fifteen minutes writing a short scene based on the sliver of an idea that we had developed together. That went about as well as the rest of the session, with a handful of students being compelled to read what they’d written by their teachers after none of them volunteered. For the most part, once again, those who did read merely tried to sabotage the exercise. I’m sure some students had written something amazing, but they were too frightened to share. I got the feeling this was the kind of place where students were punished by their peers if they showed any kind of initiative for learning.

All that to say, by the time I headed to my car at the end of the school day, I’d never felt more relieved to leave any place. A couple of teachers said an apologetic goodbye in the parking lot, a tacit acknowledgement that things certainly hadn’t gone as planned.

What can we learn from my experience?

My smarting ego aside, woven within this anecdote of my worst workshop experience are a number of things that, if they had been different, could have turned it into a great time for all.

Before I get to what those things are though, let me make something clear: I have done hundreds of writing workshops at dozens of schools for thousands of students across Western Canada, from Vancouver to Winnipeg, and it has been an overwhelming positive experience. I am consistently amazed by the enthusiasm, intelligence, and creativity of the students I’ve encountered and the hospitality offered by the teachers, including numerous potluck lunches in my honour.

Furthermore, despite the common notion that kids don’t read these days due to the proliferation of video games and other forms of media, that has not been my experience at all. Not only are kids excited to read and excited to buy my books, many times they surround me begging for autographs at the end of a session. That could be due to the fact that I once played Lex Luthor on the TV show Smallville — something I let slip in every session to buy some street cred, though I suspect it probably just dates me — but I prefer to think it’s because of my books. As for the workshops themselves, some classes need more prodding than others, but most of the students I’ve met are excited by the opportunity to spend an hour or so letting their imaginations run wild, something they rarely experience during a typical school day. Many of them come away from the sessions enthused about what we’ve created, with several of them asking me to turn the idea into a book.

So, if you’d like this latter outcome rather than the former, here are some ideas to help ensure the author visits you facilitate don’t become someone else’s cautionary tale.

  1. Invite authors to your school

This should be assumed, but sometimes the obvious needs to be emphasized. Not all authors are strong presenters, but for students who like reading or who dream of becoming a writer one day, even if an author is a poor presenter, just meeting someone in the flesh who makes all or part of their living writing books can be a transformational experience. I can’t tell you how many fledgling (and often closeted) student writers I’ve met and encouraged along the way. I’ve also heard comments from teachers that boys in particular who never show an interest in reading or writing are unusually vocal and prolific during my sessions, so you never know what an author visit can bring out of your students. Bringing in an author injects new ideas into the school and possibly introduces students to some new reading material. This is a boon for teachers, something they can build on for weeks afterwards.

  1. Before the author arrives, prime students on who the author is
Kevin Miller

There’s nothing worse than a cold open. If you’re going to bring in an author, do the author — and your students — a favour by letting the students know about the author visit beforehand and also informing them about who author is and what he or she has written, possibly even reading one of the author’s books together beforehand or creating a display in the library or another location advertising the author’s visit. One school I visited while promoting the first book in my series, Up the Creek, actually brought a canoe into the library as part of the display. Such efforts build excitement and anticipation and help the author establish rapport almost immediately, making their job much easier, which will improve the experience for everyone.

  1. Be a good host

Authors tend to be introverts, so entering completely unfamiliar territory and having to interact casually with others can be a challenge. At many schools, as soon as I arrive, my host gives me a brief tour, points out the staff room and restrooms, and then takes me to where I’ll be doing my first session for the day. The best hosts also offer me a cup of coffee, water, and/or a snack.-Introducing the author to the other staff is also nice, as is eating with the author at lunch, so the author doesn’t feel like a noob walking into a room full of strangers. And free lunch in the form of a potluck? Well, nothing is better than that.

  1. Do author visits in the library

I often do up to five and sometimes even six workshops per day. Sometimes that means hustling from one classroom to the next, which always eats up valuable time connecting and disconnecting my laptop (I use PowerPoint to present). My preferred situation is to set up in a single location, ideally the school library, and have the students shuttled in and out of there. Seeing as authors are talking about books, this offers a natural opportunity not only to get kids into the library who normally don’t spent a lot of time in there but also to connect them with other authors and titles related to the books your visiting author has written. Perhaps set up a display of the author’s books along with similar titles to help spur new reading possibilities.

  1. Avoid technical difficulties

I always arrive at least 20 minutes early, so I have plenty of time to set up and ensure the tech is working properly. I travel with all sorts of attachments for my laptop, and I always have my presentations on a thumb drive just in case. Even so, I’ve had projector bulbs burn out midway through a session and other sorts of technical problems happen. So, the day before the author arrives, ensure everything is working properly, and when the author arrives, have someone on hand who knows how things work in case things go squirrelly.

  1. Support but don’t over-facilitate

I love to let students’ minds run wild during a session. Sometimes that means things get a little rowdy, but I’m pretty good at reeling them in and regaining control when necessary. I see excitement as a good thing. I’m also a huge proponent of seemingly silly ideas when I ask for story possibilities because in my experience, lurking right behind every ridiculous idea is a brilliant idea. Sometimes you just have to be willing to crawl out to the thinnest part of the branch and risk falling to get it.

I’ve had some teachers who I wish would have jumped in to help kickstart a particularly recalcitrant group of students and others who have been too quick to tamp down ideas when they fear things are getting out of hand. The best teachers tap into what I’m doing, read the energy in the room, and partner with me to encourage the flow and deal with the few students who are trying to disrupt the process.

  1. Buy the author’s books

This may sound a bit self-serving, but it actually reflects the financial reality of what people like me do. First of all, while I charge schools for the pleasure of my company, I strive to keep my fees as low as possible, hence my skipping of lunch. Out of my fee, I have to cover the cost of my rental car, gas, hotels, and food. So, any time I can sell books at a school, it’s a huge bonus. In fact, sometimes my book sales are my only way to rise above the break-even point.

However, selling books doesn’t just serve me. If a student buys a book directly from an author — a signed copy, no less — the probability of that student reading the book goes up exponentially. The same is true if the school buys the books for the library. I’ve heard many stories about kids being on a waiting list to read my books after I leave. Build on that excitement by encouraging kids to buy books themselves and/or ensuring they can access the books in the library long after the author has left.

There’s nothing like being there

I started making myself available to schools because I write middle-grade fiction and picture books for younger kids, so I saw it as a great way to meet the gatekeepers (teachers, principals, and librarians), seeing as it’s difficult to market to children directly. Rather than just marketing my books, I wanted to offer a value-added opportunity for schools that would also allow me to meet my potential readers firsthand.

Over the past five years, that potentially self-serving motive has grown into a genuine love for the readers in my target age group (8–12) in particular, although I do workshops for students from K-12 and have had plenty of positive experiences with all age groups.

With the pandemic situation, I’m now restricted to doing virtual workshops. They’re a lot of fun too, but nothing beats the opportunity to interact with students and teachers personally, so I can’t wait until I can get back out on the road again.

If I happen to run into any of you out there somewhere, don’t worry; I’m not expecting a potluck lunch at every stop. But when you’re out on the road for days at a time, little things go a long way . . .


Kevin Miller

Raised on a farm just outside of Foam Lake, Saskatchewan, Kevin Miller went off into the world and fulfilled many of his childhood dreams, which included working in the film business as a screenwriter, director, producer, and film editor and also establishing himself as a freelance writer and editor in the world of book publishing. Over the years, Kevin has worked on over a dozen films, including documentaries, feature films, and short film projects and over a hundred books, both fiction and non-fiction, many of which he worked on as an editor. His best-selling debut novel, Up the Creek, has sold over 30,000 copies and topped Amazon’s Canadian literature chart for over 17 weeks. In addition to his work in film and publishing, Kevin has taught extensively, conducting writing classes and workshops in schools, colleges, and at conferences across Canada and the US as well as in the UK and Australia. You can learn more about Kevin at www.kevinmillerxi.com.