The first draft: Staying motivated and finishing the race

Posted on by
1

Today I signed up for an online workshop titled “Writing for the Young Adult Market – Where do I begin?” taught by novelist Jordan Dane. I’m more than 30,000 words into the new WIP so I’m far from beginning in one sense of the word, but as an unpublished author, I’m totally just beginning.

This morning I stopped by the workshop message board and introduced myself, noting that I work full-time as a writer and editor and then return home each night to write furiously in my YA manuscript. I expected a generic, “welcome to class” reply, but instead Jordan wrote this:

When I was an energy commodities trader, I wrote every day for three years before
I sold. It was doing two jobs at once, when one job was a labor of love & my
passion. A motivational speaker motivated me saying he wrote his nonfic book
doing it a page a day. Even a little keeps your head in that book. Keep pushing
to finish. Thats the only true test. Finish & start another one. Do it FOR YOU
because it elevates your quality of life.

How true! I don’t get new words in the WIP every day, but since I got serious about my writing again, I’ve worked on my story in one way or another every day. Some days it’s simply figuring out plot holes in the shower or daydreaming about my characters on the drive to work. Other days it’s fixing pacing issues that my crit partners have noticed or doing a quick copy edit of an old chapter to save myself time later. But regardless of whether I get new words in the .scriv document, it does keep my head in the story, and most days, that’s all the motivation I need to stay committed.

Sometimes if I can just get a measly 100 new words on the page, it makes me feel accomplished — not greatly accomplished by any means, but like I’m moving forward instead of being stagnant. It’s at least 100 words more than I had yesterday, right? I mentioned this to Jordan, and again, more motivation came my way:

The thing is, Laura. Even at 100 words a day, you are way ahead of all the
countless people who say they’ve always wanted to write a book once you’ve
finished one. Finish it. Then do it again. I promise you. You will learn most by
your mistakes but the journey will be amazing.

Her words reminded me of one of Natalie Whipple‘s blog posts about how writing is like a marathon. (I’d link to the post, but I just can’t find it!) You see, tons of people have a book idea or say they’ve “always wanted to write a novel,” but they never start it — they’re not even in the race. Many people start running (writing), but they get tired or lose interest along the way and drop out. If you just finish the marathon (that first draft) — we’re not talking writing the great American novel, getting an agent or getting published —then you’re leaps and bounds ahead of all those people who don’t even have a finished manuscript.

Yes, editing and revisions, querying and submissions, and platform building and marketing are other challenges you could one day face. But for now, just focus on finishing the race and writing that first draft.

And, of course, it doesn’t hurt to learn a thing or two along the way, so if you’re interested in joining us, sign up today! It’s just $20 ($10 if you’re a YARWA member) and we’ll be covering a variety of topics, including trends in YA sub-genres, developing believable characters and what makes a writer’s voice unique. Get more details here.

Happy running … um, writing!

Photo: lululemon athletica/flickr

DIY projects for the bookish

Posted on by
5

It may seem just plain wrong to rip the pages from a book’s binding or replace literary genius with potting soil, but you have to admit that some of these DIY projects are pretty amazing. Makes me want to get crafty!

Upcycled book purse

Book planters

More cute book planters

Literary clock

Book tote

I’m not nearly as talented as the makers of those upcyled items (How awesome is that Lolita purse!?), but I did start a little bookish DIY project of my own a few months ago. I came across a tattered copy of “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban” at a thrift store and remembered the old chair that my brother didn’t have room for in his apartment so…

I’m making a Harry Potter chair! Of course, the chair has been untouched since last fall … I could’ve captured and domesticated a hippogriff in the time it’s taking me to finish this project.

Have you ever gotten crafty with your books?

 

My YA book boy crushes

Posted on by
3

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d introduce you to three of my YA boy crushes. Don’t worry — there will be no possessive, sparkling undead or cake-decorating baker’s sons here! In no particular order…

Cricket Bell, Lola and the Boy Next Door by Stephanie Perkins

It’s widely acknowledged that no one can write swoon-worthy teenage boys like Stephanie Perkins. (If that’s not widely acknowledged, then it’s time for the world to acknowledge it…widely.) Yes, I know there’s the adorable Etienne St. Clair with his perfect hair and his British accent, but when it comes to contemporary YA boys, there’s just something about Cricket. He’s the tall, awkward boy next door who makes geek look hot. Plus he’s a super smart (and wealthy) inventor who’s related to Alexander Graham Bell. And then there are the pants. Am I right?

Ky Markham, Matched by Allie Condie (Spoilers below!)

I love dystopian fiction so I had to choose at least one boy who lives in a totalitarian regime. I considered the nearly fearless Tobias aka “Four” from Divergent, but there’s just something about the name Tobias that makes me picture David Cross in denim cutoffs. I was severely tempted to pick Alex Sheathes from Delirium — his hair is the color of “autumn leaves” and he loves even though it’s illegal. And then there’s that heartbreakingly romantic scene at the end of the book where he sacrifices himself to save Lena … sigh. But I’m giving crush #2 to Ky because he’s the mysterious blue-eyed, dark-haired boy who suffers in silence over his tragic past and teaches Cassia about words and creativity and love. He gives Cassia forbidden poetry and the gift of writing, and the “I love you” scene just makes me melt. I must admit that I’ve never before wanted two fictional characters to kiss so much … except for in a Perkins novel, of course.

Augustus Waters, The Fault In Our Stars by John Green (Spoilers below!)

Oh, Augustus, you one-legged, beautiful heartthrob, you. Your life may have been short, but my love for you will always linger. Augustus is smart and charming and witty and ridiculously sweet. Plus, he used his dying wish to fulfill Hazel’s dream of meeting her favorite author. (I’m tearing up just thinking about it.) Speaking of which, John Green, you owe me $2.95 for the box of Kleenex I went through while reading the last few chapters.

Who are your top YA book boy crushes? Don’t say Edward Cullen. Don’t say Edward Cullen. Don’t say Edward Cullen.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

We’re going to go celebrate with diamonds, champagne and a few dozen roses! (Actually, we’re going to order takeout and catch up on some Criminal Minds — because nothing says romance like a sexual sadist murderer terrorizing a small town, right?)

Character age in YA novels: How old is too old?

Posted on by
10

Would being thrown into the Hunger Games have seemed as shocking if Katniss were 21? Would Bella’s romance with Edward have been as intriguing if she were in college?

I’d venture to say that anytime a society delights in a televised fight to the death, it’s going to be appalling, so the story still works. But when there’s the possibility of a 12-year-old in that arena? That carries shock value. That creates a memorable story.

As for Bella being in college, I think that whether you’ve just gotten your driver’s license or are just adjusting to dorm life, you can still have a story of (supernatural) first love. Plus, her being a legal adult from the beginning would make me feel slightly better about her kissing a dude who’s well into his second century.

But these two stories are best-selling young adult books. Putting aside all debates over violence and the “romance” of a man secretly watching a girl sleep, these books are written for and marketed to teenagers. If the protagonists were just a few years older — if they could sign an apartment lease or purchase a six-pack — could the stories still be considered young adult novels?

This question recently came up in a discussion with one of my crit partners who’s struggling with genre issues. Her manuscript has all the makings of a great YA story … but her main character is 20. So that got us thinking: Is there a cutoff age for YA MCs?

Marketability

So much of the debate on this subject seems to come down to whether a YA book is marketable if it features older characters. I’ve read blog posts by writers, agents and editors who say that having a YA character in college is just a tough sell. One writer even said that she was persuaded to change her freshman-in-college characters to seniors-in-boarding-school characters. Now her story is out of that YA gray area, but her characters still have more freedom than they would if they were living under their parents’ roofs.

Still, I can’t help but wonder why we call it young adult literature and not solely teen literature if we should really only write about teenagers. The term “young adult” is nebulous. I was a young adult when I started college, when I first fell in love and even when I got my first “real” job, so why can’t there be more YA books about this age?

Reading up

We’re often told that readers tend to “read up.” Kids as young as fifth-grade might abandon middle-grade reads and pick up their first YA novel; after all, they’re hitting puberty and moving into middle school. Preteens are reading YA novels, too, and looking ahead to high school. Is it really such a stretch then to think that high school students might want to read about an MC who’s starting college, having roommate issues, deciding on a major and wondering if the cute boy/vampire in English 101 is “the one”?

Surely your average high school junior isn’t making the sudden leap from Maureen Johnson to Stieg Larsson. When I think about the books I read in high school (outside of the required Faulkner and Camus), it was a mixture of young adult books (I was obsessed with “Tomorrow, When The War Began”) and “adult” books my mom had lying around — everything from Marry Higgins Clark to Jonathan Kellerman. I was so over The Babysitters Club … but maybe I wouldn’t have been if Claudia Kishi had moved to New York to pursue a fashion degree or Kristy Thomas had found true love on her college softball team. Just saying.

New adult

However, there’s been a lot of talk lately about the “New Adult” genre … and whether all publishers even recognize it. JJ at St. Martin’s defines it like this: New Adult is about young adulthood, when you are an adult but have not established your life as one (career, family, what-have-you).

And according to Kristan Hoffman:

That puts New Adult protagonists in the range of 18 to 26 years old. College, first jobs, first relationships, or marriage…

There’s a lot that can happen when you’re 18-26 because kids and teens focus on the present, while adults draw on their past experience to inform their present and future decisions. New Adults are somewhere in between. As the saying goes: Old enough to know better, but still too young to care. That distinction might seem subtle, but it comes through loud and clear in the voice of New Adult fiction.

Now, obviously there have been protagonists aged 18-26 before. New Adult as a concept is not new, but recognizing and promoting it as a separate category is.

If you’re unsure whether your characters can tell their story as “young” adults or as “new” adults, take a look at your MC’s voice and your voice as a writer. There’s a definite difference when it comes to YA versus NA.

JJ puts it much more eloquently here:

There is a YA voice and an adult one, and even if stories overlap, the adult voice has a sense of scope. What makes YA compelling as a read is its immediacy; a young person cannot write of him/herself from any perspective aside from “now” and “later.” With a YA voice, the past is less present, the present looms like a storm, and the future ever just out of reach. With an adult voice, there is a sense that the future has come to pass, the past is present, and the present encompasses all that has been and all that will be.

My WIP is decidedly YA: My MC is 16, she lives with her father, and she’s still in school. However, the age of my MC isn’t the only thing that dictates my genre choice. I’m writing a dystopian novel and having a 16-year-old protagonist thrust into a society with very adult expectations is important in terms of world-building … and just generally shocking the reader. It works for me. It works for my characters. I know my genre.

Genre

I think it’s important to write what you want to write — if you don’t, you’re not going to enjoy writing it and it’s going to show in your manuscript. However, I think it’s a good idea to keep genre in mind. When you know your genre, it’s easier to know who you’re writing for and what their expectations are as readers, and it also helps determine the appropriate length for your manuscript.

If you’re struggling with meeting YA age “requirements” — if you really can’t take those college students and drop them into a boarding school — then don’t fight it. Why not venture into this New Adult world? I know I’d like to see more of these type of books.

Besides, we hear again and again that it’s the story that matters. Yes, it’s easy to get caught up in worries over genre, marketability, platform building, branding yourself, blah, blah, blah — my crit partner China and I have these freakouts weekly. But what it really comes down to is if your story is good. If it is, an agent will represent it, a publisher will get it on a bookshelf and a reader will buy it.

What’s your take on all this? Can YA books feature characters who are older than 18? Is genre that important? Is age really just a number?

Writing accountability: It’s more fun than it sounds

Posted on by
8

I was hesitant to write this post. I feared that by publishing it, I was setting myself up for public failure. (By “public,” I mean my two to four blog readers. I’d call you each out by name, but in the event a fifth person stops by, I don’t want he or she to feel left out.)

But honestly, I need a little accountability. In fact, that’s how this whole thing got started.

I used to write in spurts: 100 words here. 3,000 words there. Zero words for months on end. <—- I’m really talented at this one. Occasionally, when the month of my birthday and Thanksgiving rolled around, I could spit out 50,000 amazing words.

I’ve always wanted to write more, write more often, write better, but I kept setting myself up for disaster with my personal pledges and daily word count goals because they didn’t happen. Perhaps I just didn’t want it bad enough.

But now I want it. Bad.

So I started thinking about when it was that I wrote consistently, and I found this pattern: Monday-Friday 8 a.m. – 4 p.m. I asked myself, “Why do I write during this time?” And I answered, “Well, the paycheck is nice. And the side of health insurance is pretty sweet, too.”

However, it seemed unlikely that someone would pay me or insure me — a girl whose published works are limited to magazine stories, Web articles and very sporadic blog posts — to spend my days writing a YA novel. So I thought about what else it was that got me write during those hours. Answer: Deadlines. Expectations. Fear of failure.

Solution: I needed someone to hold me accountable.

That’s where my super awesome crit partners come in. I never used crit partners before. (Stupid, right?) I was nervous about people reading my writing. (Now, there’s a good quality for an aspiring novelist!) I didn’t think I knew anyone who would want to critique my work or have me critique theirs. (I was so wrong.) And I was afraid to find crit partners online via Twitter or a writing forum. (Although I stumbled upon this later and thought, “Brilliant!”)

Luckily, I now have two talented writers, China and Jamie, who provide me with that necessary accountability, and it’s all the motivation I need. For weeks now, we’ve exchanged chapters every Sunday. Sometimes multiple chapters if we’ve been particularly ambitious during the week. And most weeks I’ve been writing more than just one chapter. Sometimes it’s just a few extra paragraphs; other times it’s another 2,000-word chapter. If Jamie and China were to give me a crit partner performance evaluation, they might even check that “Exceeds Expectations” box!

Now in addition to getting a few thousand words written weekly, I’m also getting helpful feedback on my plot, character development, pacing and more. Plus, all this critiquing is sparking conversation on everything from book marketability to platform building. (Duh, Laura. This is why everyone else has had crit partners ALL ALONG.)

But the best part is that I’m essentially getting to read two novels — two top-secret, no-one-else-has-laid-eyes-on-them novels — for free. I must say that it’s pretty awesome to be one of the lucky few who gets the chapters revealed to her each week. The downside? I’m only getting to read a chapter or two each week … and at least one of my crit partners is prone to those pesky chapter-ending cliffhangers.

So, now you know, Internet. Maybe you, too, can hold me accountable.

**And I can’t believe I forgot to mention this above, but thank you to my Twitter pals who post their progress, hold me accountable and keep me motivated, especially the awesome Liza! Write on, #accountabilibuddy!

Photo: ilouque/flickr

A little experiment with the Universe

Posted on by
5

In the past four weeks, my house has been burglarized, I put my foot through the ceiling while capturing a mischievious kitten, my yard and car have been flooded with rain and sewage, and the cat I’ve had for half of my life has passed away. It’s been an awful month, but I’m thinking the Universe might want to make up for this terrible series of events, beginning on February 1.

In preparation for this, I will maintain a glass-half-full type of attitude and tomorrow I will purchase the second lottery ticket of my life. Don’t worry, Universe, if I win millions, I won’t quit my job, buy a gas-guzzling sports car or attempt to double my winnings in Vegas.

I’ll do worthwhile things — donate money to a no-kill animal shelter, have the water vacuumed out of my car, replace our stolen items, stimulate the economy by purchasing wands and drinking an indulgent amount of butterbeer at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Perhaps I’ll even embark on a search for the world’s greatest falafel. (It’s likely this trip will begin and end at the Pita House in Greenville, S.C., so it’s not like I’ll be wasting money or contributing to an excessive amount of carbon emissions.)

So, get to it, Universe…but if I forget to buy that lottery ticket tomorrow, let’s save this little experiment for Thursday.

And if winning the lottery just isn’t in the cards for me, I’ll settle for simply not waking up in the middle of the night and wondering why Foxxie isn’t sleeping by my pillow.

**Update: I won $5 by playing the lottery! Yes, I’m living the dream! Yes, I’ll be using the money to sponsor an FIV-positive cat in memory of Foxxie.

Adults can have Harry Potter parties too

Posted on by
1

When you tell people you’re throwing a Harry Potter-themed birthday party, they often assume you’re hosting it for your 9-year-old nephew — not your 29-year-old self. But adult Harry Potter parties really aren’t all that different from children’s Harry Potter parties.

The three chief differences are:

  • The adults arrive without children.
  • There’s alcohol.
  • The guests use the word “wand” as a euphemism for…um…body parts.

You can check out some of the party photos below.

Sorry, kids, but if you didn’t dress up in Harry Potter attire, you didn’t make the cut — except for Erin, whose LOTR getup was too funny not to include.


Continue reading →

Climate change: 24 hours of reality

Posted on by
1

Regardless of your time zone, closet GOP affiliation, feelings toward Al Gore, aversion to science or secret desire to live in a modern-day Water World, I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow to catch The Climate Reality Project‘s “24 Hours of Reality.”

What is it?

24 Presenters. 24 Time Zones. 13 Languages. 1 Message. 24 Hours of Reality is a worldwide event to broadcast the reality of the climate crisis. It will consist of a new multimedia presentation created by Al Gore and delivered once per hour for 24 hours, representing every time zone around the globe. Each hour people living with the reality of climate change will connect the dots between recent extreme weather events — including floods, droughts and storms — and the manmade pollution that is changing our climate. We will offer a round-the-clock, round-the-globe snapshot of the climate crisis in real time. The deniers may have millions of dollars to spend, but we have a powerful advantage. We have reality.

Now, I don’t expect you to run out and purchase a copy of “An Inconvenient Truth” (yes, there were a few errors in it) or begin buying carbon offsets for your daily commute. Just spread the word, tune in and perhaps learn a little something. Or simply make a post about it to piss off your Palin-loving, “I-know-climate-change-is-a-hoax-beause-it-snowed-this-year” Facebook friends. We all know it’s fun to read their comebacks — especially the ones that cite Glenn Beck as a legitimate source.

What’s that? You’ve already seen “An Inconvenient Truth”? Why should you watch? Well, word on the street is that Gore has some new slides in his PowerPoint presentation. *Commence jumping up and down.*

Still not convinced? Tweet me and we’ll turn it into a drinking game*. #climaterealityshot For every new slide you identify, that’s a shot! If you’re under 21, well, you’re just going to have to watch for the pure fun of it. After all, climate change is cool…well, actually it’s kind of hot at times…er…you know what I mean.

*I’ll be joining you in spirit — not spirits. Wednesday is a workday!

September 11: A freshman, a front-page story and a fearful day

Posted on by
5

At 11:00 a.m. on September 11, 2001, I sat down in my Western European history class. I was one of a handful of freshmen in the class and one of the few students to show up that day. I’d torn my eyes away from the nonstop news coverage and gone to Gambrell Hall out of some mixture of good-student obligation and a loss for anything else to do besides watch my country bleed on live television.

I took my assigned seat in the middle of the auditorium, roughly 12 rows back. The large screen at the front of the room was displaying CNN’s live coverage; my professor stood in front of it, the orderliness of the class before him juxtaposed with the chaos behind. He explained that today we’d put our lesson on the French Revolution on hold to discuss the tragedy unfolding before us in real time.

As he spoke, the tall, red-haired upperclassmen assigned to the seat to my right sat down, pulling off his headphones. He was usually late, but always friendly and quick to inject a witty comment into the lecture. But today he was silent, his eyes wide as he stared at the smoldering New York skyline screen before him.

“What’s going on?”

I wanted to ask how he could’ve missed this. Had he just woken up, put on his headphones and run straight to class? Had he not seen the delivery trucks parked in the middle of campus, doors thrown open, radios blaring? Had he not heard the inescapable nervous chatter that filled the hallways? Had he not seen his red-eyed classmates wandering out of the student union?

“Planes flew into the World Trade Center,” I replied. Surely he knew.

“What? What part of the Trade Center?”

“Both the towers — they collapsed. They’re gone.”

He started to stand up and then seemed to change his mind, sitting back down in his seat. “My parents work there,” he finally whispered. A moment later he stood up and he left.

That’s my most vivid memory of 9/11.

As everyone who talks about that day will say, it started out like any other day. I woke up at what I thought was an ungodly hour, showered, threw on clothes and grabbed a granola bar to munch on while I rushed to my 8:00 class. I was on my way to University 101, a seminar for freshman transitioning to campus life. I was 18 and a print journalism major at the University of South Carolina.

I couldn’t tell you what we discussed in class that day — my mind was wandering, undoubtedly calculating how much of a nap I could get in before my history class — but I remember the professor from next door bursting into our classroom and announcing that the World Trade Center had been bombed. At these words, our professor dismissed us early, but most of the students and I lingered outside the next-door classroom, watching the small TV suspended in the corner.

Smoke was billowing from the North Tower, debris was blowing in the wind, and we couldn’t look away. Reports were coming in that a plane had hit the WTC — we weren’t bombed — but this didn’t make sense. How could a plane accidentally run into a building? I was about to walk back to my dorm, figuring I could turn the TV on there, when the newscaster’s voice became frantic, and as we all watched a plane hit the second tower.

It wasn’t an accident.

Some of my classmates were crying, others were hurriedly dialing cell phones — waking up their roommates, calling their parents, checking up on friends and family in New York. I hurried back to Columbia Hall, and as I passed students, it was easy to tell which ones know and which ones were still blissfully unaware. But they wouldn’t be for long. Maintenance and delivery trucks parked outside the Moore School of Business had left their doors open and radios on, and the lobby of my dorm had its tiny TV blaring. For the first time since I’d moved into the building a few weeks ago, the girl working the front desk didn’t greet me with an obligatory “good morning.”

When I reached my dorm room, my roommate, Stefanie, was sitting up in bed, staring wide-eyed at the television. Her mom had called and woken her. We watched in silent horror as the towers burned, rubble tumbling from the building, and then we both gasped — we were almost sick — as we realized that what we’d mistaken for falling debris were actually human bodies. The heat and the smoke were too much to bear, so people were throwing themselves out of the windows and plummeting to their deaths.

I’ll never be able to erase that image from my mind.

Within minutes reports were coming in that a plane had crashed into the Pentagon, and it’s at that moment that I realized it wasn’t over. It wasn’t just an attack on New York — it was an attack on America — and we didn’t know who was going to be hit next.

Stacey Armstrong, me, Stefanie Parker and a friend a month later in October 2001

Sure, the University of South Carolina in Columbia, S.C., is an unlikely target for a terrorist attack, but that didn’t make us any less fearful. The year 2001 was pre-Facebook, pre-Twitter, pre-smartphone — I didn’t even have a cellphone — but we had Internet. My roommate and I were reading local news reports, which were being updated every few minutes, and we were chatting with friends and classmates on AIM.

“Lindsey said the Statehouse and government buildings are being evacuated, and that’s just two blocks from here!” (This was true.)

“Katie says the police are welding manholes shut all over the city! Why would they do that?” (This was true.)

“My uncle says the planes are probably heading to Shaw Air Force Base. It’s one of the largest bases in the country and it’s just 30 miles away!” (This was never proved to be true.)

So, yes, we were safely in South Carolina’s capital city, but we were terrified. Our state leaders were leaving, the city felt it necessary to weld our manholes shut, and we didn’t know what we were supposed to do. Pack our bags and head home? Go to class? Watch the horror unfold on TV? We opted for the latter.

We saw the South Tower come crumbling down in a magnificently horrifying display. We heard screams of terror and people calling for friends and loved ones. At one point the scene was completely engulfed in thick black smoke, and we were taken back to the newsroom where a shaken news anchor looked back at us. He was used to fluff pieces, human-interest stories. Not this. When the camera came back on, New York City was unrecognizable. It was coated in ash and debris, people were covered in thick gray powder. They were running and bleeding and scared, but they were also pausing to give the fallen a hand; they were pulling together amid the nightmare.

Moments later the anchor said a plane had crashed in Pennsylvania and my stomach twisted. Seconds later he said it might have hit near Pittsburgh. I grabbed the phone and begin frantically dialing my brother’s number, but I couldn’t get through. The network was overloaded with everyone calling friends and family.

I continued to hit redial over and over and over again while reloading the CNN.com homepage, but it hadn’t even mentioned the Pennsylvania crash. Stefanie and I were both crying again.

United Airlines Flight 93

I called my mom at the hospital where she worked. She knew about New York and the Pentagon, but she hadn’t heard about Pennsylvania. She told me to calm down and that she was sure Jarrod was fine. But I could hear the fear in her voice.

For the next few minutes, I sat and watched the news unfold, waiting to hear something about the crash in Pennsylvania and hoping the next report would be a retraction. After all, the media had been making announcements — about bombs and more planes — and retracting them all day. Finally, they confirmed the crash was in Somerset County, which I’d never heard of. I hurriedly pulled up Mapquest and discovered that it’s 80 miles from Pittsburgh. I breathed a sigh or relief, knowing he was OK.  Still, I needed to hear his voice so I kept calling my brother. None of my calls would go through.

Continue reading →

Writerly advice from the experts

Posted on by
6

I had the pleasure of attending the AJC Decatur Book Festival this weekend, meeting some of my favorite authors and taking away a little bit of writing advice and inspiration as well. I kicked off the festival in an amazing way by joining the lovely Vania Stoyanova and some of her YA author and book blogger friends for breakfast. It was fun matching Twitter photos with faces and recognizing writers from the back pages of their books — plus, the J. Christopher’s fruit cornucopia was delicious as usual.

Over the course of the festival, my friend China and I attended some panels, talked books with fellow YA lovers and tried not to go too fangirl when we spotted our favorite writers casually strolling the streets of Decatur. And here are some of the things I learned — from the experts. Some are things we’ve all heard before, but I know I can do with a little reminder now and then. And a signed book or two sure doesn’t hurt.

Tension is important … but so is kissing.

Beth Revis and Myra McEntire bantered throughout their talk on “Past and Future Loves,” with Beth repeatedly saying how she loves to kill off characters and “blow stuff up” while Myra argued that as a writer, she just wants to “get to the kissing.” But while Myra’s editor encouraged her to move back the kissing in “Hourglass,” increase the tension and leave the reader wanting the kiss just as badly as the protagonist, Beth’s editor said that “Across The Universe” was missing a little something and Beth joked that it needed more death and destruction. What did her editor want? More romance. More kissing.

The lesson here: Action, adventure, magic, intrigue and plot twists are just as important as the romance — even if it’s not the main storyline. And sometimes you just need to make the reader wait for it. After all, the anticipation and the build-up are so much better than the actual kiss.

There are many paths to publication.

Perhaps one of the most comforting (and slightly unnerving) things I learned was how different — and difficult — a novelist’s journey to publication can be. Take Beth Revis for example. She wrote 10 manuscripts over 10 years. The tenth one was finally published. Can you imagine dealing with that kind of rejection, but remaining so dedicated to your dream? Talk about earning it! Then I heard Jennifer Jabaley tell the story of her first novel: She was home with her newborn son and looking for something to do so she decided to write a book. Pretty soon she’d written “Lipstick Apology” and before she knew it, she had an agent and a published manuscript. Bubbly, peppy and adorably blonde, Jennifer joked that people probably compare her to Elle Woods in “Legally Blonde,” saying they must ask, “Do you think she woke up one morning and said, ‘I think I’ll write a book today’?”

Here’s what I’m going to take away from this: The first book could be the one. If so, that’s excellent. Rock on! However, the ninth, tenth or eleventh book could be the one. It might be a discouraging journey at times, but if you stick with it you’re going to get there.

Teens can fall madly and deeply in love…and it can last.

I had my share of boyfriends in high school, but I was never in love with any of them. Perhaps I bought into what my mother always said and didn’t believe that teenagers could fall in love. Perhaps my high school boyfriends were really nothing more than homecoming dates and an obligatory reply to the age-old question of “what was your first kiss like?” Regardless, I was struck by something Stephanie Perkins said. I’m paraphrasing here, but this is the gist of it: “Teens really can fall in love. I got married as a teenager — don’t tell your parents I said that — but I married my best friend and we just celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary.” And Beth Revis? She married her high school sweetheart, too.

If you’re writing YA, you’re not just writing lust or puppy love,  you could be writing a true love story. Just don’t forget to blow some stuff up, too.

Sometimes you just can’t help but write from experience.

I have a lot of words under my belt — news articles, magazine features, blog posts, unfinished manuscripts, angst-ridden teen poetry that I really need to burn already, etc. — and it all has a little bit of me in it. It might be the way I phrase things, my overuse of the em dash or my tendency to use words I learned only for GRE test-taking purposes, but it’s definitely there. And it tends to creep into the fiction I write as well. Whether it’s putting a little bit of you into your protagonist, assigning a personal experience to a character or killing off a whole lot of people in your WIP when you’ve just had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, it’s there.

I know I’ve done it, I bet you’ve done it, and published novelists have too. Elizabeth Eulberg, Stephanie Perkins, Jennifer Jabaley and Terra McVoy all owned up to. We’re writers, it happens. Your art can easily become a reflection of you and your experiences, which can be both a blessing and a curse.

Don’t alienate your audience.

While I met some super duper, amazingly friendly, way-talented authors this weekend, I also met some who were…uh…not-so-amazing. (Yeah, that’s a nice way to phrase it.) You see, I heard people like Myra McEntire and Elizabeth Eulberg speak whose novels I’ve never read, but after hearing their insight and witnessing their personalities, I can’t wait to read their work. They love what they do and they love their fans — what more could a writer or reader want? And Stephanie Perkins and Beth Revis totally lived up to my author-crush expectations — they, too, are doing what they love and loving their audience for supporting them.

But I met other published authors this weekend (none of whom I’ve named in this post) — as well as book bloggers and aspiring novelists — who had a different sort of outlook. There was a holier-than-thou attitude that permeated our conversations. There were judgmental questions like, “Oh, you haven’t read my book? Well, why not?” and looks that clearly said, “You’re not a best-selling author? And you’re here why?” Not cool.

If you’re writing YA — or any genre for that matter — if you’re attending book festivals and interacting with fans, bloggers and aspiring novelists (you know, your very demographic), then at least convincingly feign interest in them or offer some sort of gratitude for their readership. Luckily, these people are few and far between — 99.9 percent of the writers I met were truly awesome people who were overjoyed that readers wanted to talk to them or have them sign a book. As for the others, guess what? You just lost a potential reader.

Overall, the festival was awesome, I have some freshly signed books on my shelves, and I was so inspired that I actually woke up this morning and added 3,000 words to the WIP I haven’t touched in a more than month. The only downside? I wasn’t lucky enough to acquire one of the 20 copies of “Lola And The Boy Next Door” that were briefly for sale. Unfortunately, a mere three to four people snatched up all of them. Oh, well. There’s always pre-ordering. ;)

Photo: Terra McVoy, Elizabeth Eulberg, Stephanie Perkins and Jennifer Jabaley at “A Real Girl Conversation About Writing Real Girl Books”