Haunting The Broken Tree

Writer's Intuition — Part I

2012-01-26T15:29:00.000-05:00

When it comes to women's intuition, even Ghost Hunk has been converted from a skeptic to a true believer. He has learned over the years to trust my intuition no matter how wacky it may seem. And of course, it's almost always right. But what about writer's intuition? There are many facets to this wonder of the creative process, but for this post I'm going to tackle the question of the new project and how do you balance your WIP(s) and your inspirations. When in the process are you thinking of your next book?

I've known writers who juggle a handful of manuscripts in various states of repair all at one time, but I have enough in my life to sort out, so that won't ever be me. I tend to be a monogamous WIPster, a one-WIP-at-a-time kind of gal (excluding editor/agent revisions, of course). I have, however, developed a sort of rhythm about these things. I don't really know when the WIP is almost ready until I've had that ZING of inspiration for the next novel. But I can't get that zing until the WIP is in the right place either.

I guess that's what I mean by writer's intuition. The whole process is completely subconscious, lodged somewhere in that mystical land where the heart/gut sends invisible smoke signals to the brain and they figure out who is going to lead the search party and when. Then you have the wind and the rain and everything else that can get in the way...

My poor WIP has been wheezing along for the last two months, inching its way towards the final hurrah but not quite getting up enough steam to make it over the hill. Meanwhile, my writer's intuition has been sorting through the odd possibility or two for the next project. On several occasions, I thought I may have struck gold but it turned out to be nothing more than pyrite and my WIP still lumbered along.

Then last week it happened. The Zinger. It stuck me right between the eyes and deep in my heart because the subject is so close to home. Amazingly, the WIP suddenly picked up steam too. I got clarity and momentum all in one day! I don't think the Zinger would have found me if I hadn't reached a certain point in my WIP, and I couldn't have cut that lodestone loose and revived my WIP unless I had met my Zinger. It's all in the timing.

I know...this post wreaks of bad metaphors, but I'm saving the good stuff for the novels! So how do you balance your WIPs and inspirations?

So long 2011...

2011-12-31T13:53:00.000-05:00

I am sitting down to finish off my WIP, but had to take a minute to bid farewell to 2011. Though a lot less eventful than 2009 or 2010, it has brought its share of doubts and joys and mixed blessings.

I've seen my son weather the last gasps of middle school to blossom into an amazing young man in high school. I've always loved hanging out with him, no matter what age, but so many of us approaching middle age get those pangs of missing the babies we once had. For me, that lasts about a blink and then I am wide-eyed and staring at this witty, wonderful, cultural explorer who has been shipwrecked in a wasteland and refuses to let that stunt his growth in any way. I love you, Ghost Son.

I've watched my daughter grow into a young lady, excel at academics, process intense grief when her beloved pet died in her arms, and wrestle with the demons of puberty mixed with a processing disorder that has rocked her little world out of focus. We have managed some great feats in the past, and I know we can get through adolescence together. It won't be easy, but we know that in the midst of all the chaos, our beautiful girl is still in there. I love you, Ghost Daughter.

I've been surprised by unexpected turbulence in a rock solid man as middle-age hit him smack in the face. I'll just say that a mid-life crisis can happen to anyone, no matter how steady or logical, and if you keep your head, you can get through it. He is still and always will be the only one for me. I love you, Ghost Hunk. All day long.

As for this Ghost Girl, I'm still discovering who I am as a writer, still fighting to pull it all together. This novel has taken me longer than anticipated to write, but I'm hoping it will be worth the wait. So here's to a shiny book deal and phenomenal things all around for the whole Ghost Clan in 2012!

Justice? What happened to "Hang 'Em High?"

2011-12-16T10:09:00.000-05:00

Warning: Rant to follow. This post has nothing to do with writing, though it is more fantastical than fiction. No names will be mentioned, but the facts are accurate.

In the old days of the wild west, horse thieves could be hanged for their crime. Apparently in the 21st century, they get a cruise as well as huge profits on their stolen booty. There is a reason that horse people have a bad name and this woman is the poster child...though she should be on a wanted poster. Is there no justice anymore?

A dear friend of mine has two beautiful girls. The oldest is my own daughter's best friend. With their daddy on active duty and their best friend moving away, as well as other stressors, these girls have had enough to deal with without their ponies being stolen...by someone they knew and trusted.

A woman who should have served as a role model and an instructor betrayed them all and stole their 2 ponies, selling one across state lines and the other to a family who is also a victim in all of this. What do the police do? Almost nothing. "It just isn't a priority." It has been almost 2 years since the theft occurred and roughly 18 months since the truth of it came out. Still this woman is walking around free and trading horses and offering lessons.

As a professional member of USEF and PHSA, she should be held to a high moral standard. I have recently discovered that they don't care about moral or professional standards as long as their membership dues are paid. So this criminal can continue to profit from her elicit activities because the police don't have the time to deal with it and the professional organizations don't care about the unethical and even criminal behavior of their members.

Of course civil court could get involved, which means even more financial and emotional hardship for a family who has done nothing wrong. I am stymied. Let is not forget that two little girls are the victims here. Two horse-crazy, loving, and innocent girls who until now had not learned that adults cannot be trusted.

No one has been murdered. This is true. This woman is not running the biggest meth operation in three counties. But does that make her any less guilty of a crime against two little girls? Given the money involved and the interstate transfer of stolen goods, she is guilty of a felony. We have positive proof, even recorded confessions, but no one will do anything.

Perhaps it is a good thing that I no longer have a horse. That I no longer rub elbows with such sleazy horse traders as this. I have lamented my loss for the last ten years and ached to be among horses again, but not if it means dealing with conniving, lying, thieving delinquents like this woman.

As for the response by law enforcement, God forbid my house gets broken into. It may not rate high enough on the attention scale for the police to respond.

Meanwhile, two little girls have seen how it works. Get screwed by one adult and then take it up the butt again by the adults who are supposed to help you.

I have only one word for the women involved in this crime and the so-called authorities who are supposed to protect us from them: DISGUSTED

Creative Urges

2011-12-05T08:55:00.000-05:00

We are all familiar with the basic biological urges: hunger, thirst, sex drive, etc. As a writer, I wonder how many people feel that same sort of inescapable drive towards creative endeavors. We all need to eat, but some people have an overwhelming need to satisfy not just the need for sustenance to keep the body functioning, but the need to satisfy the spiritual desire for a savory experience. It is not enough to simply put food in their mouths. Eating must be an event. They are not complete without a sensual taste experience.

I think creativity can act just like that sort of hunger. It was my son who got me thinking about this. He is one of those kids who has many talents and will eventually be paralyzed by the number of choices he has until he finally breaks through and chooses one talent to pursue. All of his talents are traditionally creative. Music, art, writing. I see that same sort of restlessness that I had at his age. The difference is, he is embracing the journey and reveling in the exploration, while I worried about making the wrong choice and being mediocre at everything rather than really talented at one thing. I so admire him for that.

But I continue to field these deep-seated urges to create. I wish I could sing well. I have these emotions and ideas that I just want to embrace through song...but I'm not very good at singing. I ache to paint, to immerse myself in color and shape it into something that reveals some great truth...but I'm not that great at painting or drawing. I long to satisfy my eye for composition and the hidden magic behind the ordinary flotsam we see all around us...but so far, I'm an amateur at photography.

In all of this is a gut-level, inescapable urge to feel something so deeply that it takes a part of you with it when you finally release it into the wild. But it takes confidence to be able to reach that pinnacle. It takes talent. It takes great risk. Perhaps its like the adrenalin junkies who base jump or skydive. That urge cannot be satisfied unless you risk it all and lay it all out there, good or bad. I had to sound so cliché, but it is liberating.

Comedians are often good at that. Imagine how terrifying that must be, because humor is a very personal and spiritual phenomenon. You lay out truths (sometimes half-truths) and ask us to laugh at ourselves and at you. I imagine it must be addictive. And cathartic.

Maybe that's it. All these creative pursuits allow us to free something that has been held captive for far too long. Simple words cannot go far enough or even approach the truth of it. It takes more than words set together in a straight line. It takes a medium that dares us to dig down to the roots of it all. To mess it all up, fill it with emotion, and spread it all around.

I know, I know...this post is rambling a bit. But I guess that is just where my urge has taken me. It's not a perfectly constructed plate of food—apologies to Tom and Padma—nor a flawlessly executed work of art. It's easy to forget that even the most talented creative types have a process. I hope that someday I can hone my writing into that creative expression that fills my soul and truly satisfies. Even if it only satisfies me.

The Digital Revolution—Not an End, but a Means

2011-10-18T11:50:00.001-04:00

At the SCBWI Southern Breeze WIK conference this weekend, I had the great pleasure of attending four truly relevant workshops. One presentation, in particular, altered the course of a significant grudge I have held against e-readers and tablets. I'm no luddite, but some things are just sacred. Rubin Pfeffer, former Senior VP of children's publishing at S&S and currently an agent at East/West Literary Agency, gave the specter of E-Publishing a whole new look and eased some of my anxiety that I may have missed my chance to publish the way I had always dreamed—as a real, paper and binding book.

He started by taking us through the development of media through history, from radio to film to television to the internet, and pointed out that while technology has changed, none of these vehicles for creativity has gone into extinction. To the contrary, such revolutions have brought about innovations that have not only created enormous opportunity but expanded the media in ways that reach an even broader audience. With e-books, enhanced e-books, and apps, the possibilities are staggering.

I know, I know. At first I felt that technology cheapened our enterprise, that it somehow denigrated the sanctity of the book. I still feel a little twinge of that pain, but I truly believe that the book as we know it will not die, not completely. The way we publish in general, however, will definitely change. Contracts, marketing, development. The business model simply must change.

As I listened to Mr. Pfeffer describe how the new technology is evolving and what implications it has for our creativity, I started thinking of all the new possibilities and mourned the fading biblio-empire a little bit less. Change is difficult...and inevitable. We will all go through some growing pains, but I hope they will be truly growing pains. That we will stretch ourselves a little more and seize the opportunity to connect with our audience in ways that will enrich their relationship with literature and maybe even whet their appetite for more.

It will not be long before the number of e-books sold outpaces the traditional paper book, but that does not mean an end to good books. Technology is simply a means by which we can share our stories with even more readers. If their eyes are glued to a glowing screen and their fingers agile at finessing a touch pad, let is meet them where they are, where we can engage them in a variety of ways.

I can imagine the terror that those first screen actors felt when silent movies gave way to the talkies. Some embraced the revolution and honed a new side of their craft, while others slinked away into obscurity. Think of how much richer the experience is, how those who embraced it discovered a new voice. I will always cherish my romantic ideal and dream of holding that beautiful hard-bound book in my hands, but I will also relish the knowledge that my story is in the hands of the young people for whom I wrote it, in whatever way it reaches them.

I would rather have my kids' eyes locked on a screen that leads them through a path of beautifully sculpted words and into challenging revelations than one that dulls their mind and entrances them with the likes of a giggling sponge or lowers them into the mire of some alternate universe that claims to be "reality tv."

RIP Steve Jobs: 1955-2011

2011-10-06T09:27:00.001-04:00

Today, the internet is flooded with tributes to Steve Jobs, who passed away last night. When I heard the news I wanted to cry as if I had lost a close friend. There are several reasons why the news hit me this way, but I'll name three:

Steve Jobs was a pioneer who defined the world I lived in precisely at the time of my "awakening." I was among the first students who learned about computers on an Apple back in the late 1970's, when the Apple had just opened the door to personal computing for everyday people. In college, the little Mac brought the world of computing into my dorm room and eventually made my old electric typewriter, dropped and busted by a "friend" during senior finals, obsolete. I was exactly the audience who grew with the company, who saw a true pioneer, a genius, define the way people interacted with computers. He personalized them with an uncanny intuition for how people think. Not just smart people...all people. "Visionary" almost seems too hackneyed to describe his gifts.

I would not be the writer/teacher I am today. While some people may still prefer to grab a pen and a legal pad and write out their manuscripts in long-hand, I simply could not function without my MacBook Pro. A pen or pencil could never keep up with my mind when it comes to writing down my stories and ideas. The computer keyboard at least lets me stumble through the mistakes or type stream-of-consciousness in a way that lets me put it all together with ease later. My Mac is far more forgiving than a legal pad...and far more durable as well as versatile. Because of my "insanely good" Mac, I have an online community that keeps me sane and never lets me give up. I have a tool that has supported and inspired my creativity both in my writing and in my teaching.

My faith in people, in the world, in the wonder that is life would be missing something without Toy Story, Monsters Inc., Wall-E, UP, and all the wonderful Pixar films that owe so much to Steve Jobs. All due respect and a standing ovation to the writers, but the realization of their vision, what so many of us writers dream of, comes largely from the tools that Steve Jobs offered. For my kids and myself, the simplest emotions still have immeasurable magic.

As I awakened to my own potential gifts and set my feet on a road with no one particular destination, the Mac, the iPod, the iPhone, it has all been there over the years to give me direction. Technology that was more than useful, more than personal. It was art. And as I discovered the beauties of parenthood and pondered the simplest questions only to realize they are the hardest to answer, Pixar showed me a lifetime of wisdom in less than 90 minutes. Like so many others of my generation and younger, I can't help but wonder, will it ever be the same?

Thank you, Steve Jobs, and Godspeed...

All My WIP Children

2011-09-23T09:31:00.001-04:00

As authors, we often refer to our books as our children. At conception, those little babes fill us with joy and anticipation. We imagine their future in every detail and nurture the concept until it is fully formed and ready for the real labor. Oy! You think 15 or 20 or 30 hours of labor is tough, try two years!

As each WIP grows, it takes on a personality of its own. You love them all, but you can't help but compare them sometimes and realize that each one needs a very different kind of discipline.

One WIP has you running non-stop right from the start and you're always excited to see what he's going to do next. He takes risks and isn't afraid to get a little dirty or scuffed up. Blunders are just another nugget of gold waiting to be mined. And he does not like to wait...for anything. He's that child of wonder who is always discovering some glorious secret that he can't keep. He inspires you and sucks the life out of you at the same time, but you always know that eventually he will "wow" the world if he gets the chance.

Your next WIP is not so gregarious. This shy little bud needs more coaxing. She is brilliant, but hyper critical of herself and afraid to put a foot wrong. She becomes fixated on some ridiculous detail and can't move on until it is just right. Yep. This is your perfectionist. Completely obsessed with the details. And though you try to hide it, she knows you expect more out of her than the others. Before you know it, those unspoken expectations have spun out of control and cranked up the pressure until performance anxiety almost cripples her. The best thing to do is take a spa day (or two or three) and have a make-over. She'll need a heart-to-heart reminder that she is just as awesome as your other WIPs. She's just different.

And somewhere there is that sweet, quiet, parent-pleaser who is just waiting for her chance to shine. This was your first. She had to be the test subject, the kid who got to endure all your early parental mistakes and experimental discipline. There were no hand-me-downs, but her hand-made clothes were a bit cheap and unfinished. You hadn't quite learned how to cut the patterns and sew yet. Amazingly, she still has her dream intact. She just waits patiently to see if she'll get another chance to go to the ball or the parade or whatever it will turn out to be. No judgement. No grudges. Just hope.

It's the shy one who is giving me fits now. I'm hoping that she is a gifted child in the end, and that these are just her perfectionist growing pains. That I'll be able to unlock her inhibitions and give her a little more faith in herself so she can really take off. After the first spa day, she is starting to loosen up a bit. She is still a little afraid of the big finale, but I think I can get her there. Soon.

Remembering 9-11-2001

2011-09-11T11:38:00.001-04:00

As we sat around the breakfast table this morning, the entire Ghost Family remembered that day ten years ago. Ghost Son was 4 and Ghost Daughter was 6 months old. I was surprised not by what they did or didn't remember, but by what they understood. Both of them startled me with their keen perspectives. Ghost Son shared the details he could remember and talked about how his Civics class discussed things on Friday. He is becoming such an adult already...one who every day gives me boundless hope.

Ghost Daughter talked about how wrong it is to assume that all Muslims are like those people. She was appalled to think that anyone would make such a generalization. She went on to talk about the impact of those events not only on the people connected to them, but on those who would be collateral damage simply because of the color of their skin or the way they dress or the beliefs they profess. She understood so much more than I had ever imagined. More than a lot of 10-year-olds might.

For the Project 365 blog today, I chose not a photograph but a drawing. The indelible impression of that day on a 4-year-old's world.

That's why I write for young people. They are amazing...

A Letter to my WIP

2011-09-01T11:19:00.001-04:00

Dear WIP,

We've been together for a while, now, and I've come to know you pretty well. You are bold and interesting and not afraid to take some risks. I always liked that about you. Sure, you say some stupid things now and then, but who doesn't? Lately, though, you have been so hard to talk to, afraid to open up. You're holding back, showing me only the tiniest bits of your world where you once wore your heart on you sleeve and felt free to gush. Is it something I said? Have I offended you? Did I give you bad advice? Are you having mad hormonal surges or something?

I can only wonder if this new wrinkle in our relationship is because you are growing up. Believe me, I've been there. One day you are doing your own thing, oblivious to the existence, let alone the opinions, of anyone else. Then "Bam!" You realize that you're not alone. That others are watching you. Maybe you start watching them. Before you know it, you are constantly comparing yourself to others or worried about being left behind or making the wrong choices. All of a sudden you are aware of what's out there and it scares you. That's growing up. I won't lie; it ain't always pretty. And it definitely isn't easy. You will be judged, rejected, deconstructed, and made over. But that's life. That's how we become our best selves.

Or maybe it's me. Maybe I've made all the wrong choices for you. Maybe somehow I've lost touch with the real you. Have I stifled your voice or failed to listen closely? Maybe I've been the one who's afraid. So scared to get it wrong and send you out there unprepared that I become overprotective. After all, you are my responsibility. But maybe it's time to let you have your head a little more. Drop the reins and let you run. It's hard. You'll never know how hard. I just wonder, have I given you enough direction to keep you from dashing head-on into catastrophe? I guess it's time to find out.

So here it goes. I'm letting go and letting you lead the way now. I'm right behind you. Just remember, don't be afraid to show yourself as you really are. Make no apologies. Just put yourself out there.

One last thing. When it's all said and done, I, and a highly qualified team of specialists, can always give you a kick-ass make-over, so be bold, be sassy, and run like hell!

Bloggedy, Blog, Blog—Awesome!

2011-08-23T09:29:00.000-04:00

As I was mulling over a handful of blog post ideas this morning, a very cool bit of info popped up in my inbox. I was just given a blog award by an awesome writer buddy!

The Liebster Blog Award is for blogs that have under 200 followers. This award is a great way to share some blogging love, get people’s names out there, and help bloggers build up their followers. There are some rules that come with the Liebster Blog Award:

1. Thank the person who gave you this award and link back to them.

Thank you, Angelina Hanson!!

2. Reveal your top 5 picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog. (see below for list & links)

3. Copy and paste the award on your blog.

4. Have faith that your followers will spread the love to other bloggers.

5. And best of all - have blogging fun!

1. Deena, Kristine, Emily, and Kate

2. Joyce Moyer Hostetter

3. Clara Gillow Clark

4. Shari Green

5. Kelly Hashway

You guys rock!

Identity Crisis #1

2011-08-06T15:33:00.001-04:00

Warning: The following post may ramble a bit.

It's that uncomfortable place where anxiety, momentum, and perfectionism smack into a rapidly deflating self-confidence. In this case, I am sharing this particular moment of truth with my main character and I'm not sure who will come out if this ahead...or even alive. Plodding through this latest WIP, Maggie's back story keeps getting richer, but what lies ahead for her and for me remains lost in a fog bank. I keep writing her character in my head, embracing each little epiphany and checking it off for revision later.

But what about now? I'm working on the last rise towards the climax and I seem to be stuck on a ledge, terrified to climb up but absolutely petrified to look down. Where do I go from here? I'm fighting the urge to go back to the beginning and start revising. Maybe starting again will give me more momentum to get over this hump and realize her character and the plot more fully. But the other part of me is saying, "NO! Stay on the path and get to the end and plant your flag so you know where to go when you make your second journey through this tale." Which voice do I listen to? Do I let go and repel down the side of the mountain and start again or keep climbing hand over hand until I reach the top?

Behind all of this is my own insecurity and doubt. Every writer goes through this. I know that. The tape in my head keeps saying, "You should have been there by now," and I have a hard time seeing the growth and the miles I have come already. I keep hoping that I'm stuck in a time warp and it really hasn't taken this long to get this close but still not there. No such luck. I am where I am and I'm kicking myself for not performing better.

Today, I stopped by the library to grab something new to read, something to distract me a little so my other neurons can fire less self-consciously. Jay Asher's Thirteen Reasons Why ended up in my bag, though I can't believe I haven't read it already. I remember Jay's posts on the Blue Boards way back when he was feeling what I feel right now. He was ready to give up on writing and being published. Okay, "ready" may not be the best word for this feeling. I'll never really be ready to give up and neither was he. But he was feeling defeated and unsure, just as I am now.

Then magic happened. He got a book contract. Soon came the accolades for his work and the speaking engagements and now a movie. He had been on that ledge, wondering if he could ever climb that last stretch, and somehow he found the strength to keep going and flew to the top. I'm sure he will tell you that it was and still is hard work, as it is for all writers, even after you "arrive." Writing is not for the faint of heart or the fatally insecure.

So where/who am I now? I'm with Maggie, I guess. Not fully formed. Impatient. Expecting perfection from myself. Afraid of failure...and success. Worried that the magic may have passed me by or judged me lacking in some infinite way. It's funny. I guess in some ways I feel like...well...a teenager.

Maybe it's time to pick myself up and draw on that hormone-induced mania that makes adolescence so much fun. Use it. Listen to that 17-year-old voice in my head and let it lead me, and Maggie, to the next stop. Onward and upward, right?

...but I'm drawing the line at re-living acne and incomprehensible mood swings, okay?

#WIPMADNESS Final July Check-in

2011-07-29T10:09:00.001-04:00

How did everybody do?

Today, I will break the 46k mark, which is a little short of what I wanted, but it is progress. This last week has been rocky...meetings that barred me from the WIP and potential upheaval that was eventually abated. But if nothing else, I got even more clarity in the development of the story.

What have I learned this month?

I've learned that I need to move around, to get up and stretch and think and direct my brain in different directions more often than I do. I've learned how much I miss writing at home. I've also learned that tension and romance can be hard to do without a major cheese factor killing your momentum. The "go big or stay home" mentality doesn't work quite the same way in that case.

Goals for August?

1. Finish the WIP! (HA!...I can try!).
2. Take at least one weekend and lock myself away to write. (That might actually happen)
3. If all else fails, just keep making forward progress.

Major goal — to have something workable for my agent to review. Then...the revisions.

Thanks for hanging with the madness everyone! Good luck in August and don't forget to check in with Angelina!

#WIPMADNESS July check-in #4

2011-07-22T09:29:00.000-04:00

It's a real jumble this week. Ghost Girl and Son have driven north to Wilmington, NC to meet Ghost Friends for a mother/son retreat at the beach. That means a lot of crazy 14-year-old boy antics, sun and surf, and very little writing. But I wouldn't trade this week for anything. (I might postpone it for a book deal, though...just saying.)

One thing that nudged me along was a great critique from a writing buddy. We exchanged 3 chapters a few weeks ago, and she sent me my notes yesterday. (Big thanks to @bkslinda) As can often happen in a first draft, part of the story was still in my head rather than on the page. You know those clever little bits of information that you mean to lead somewhere, but somehow you didn't quite get the "somewhere" down on the page? Yep, did that a little bit.

The good news is, revision is my bag. I'm slow on the first draft, but fast and efficient on revisions. By that time, my vision is more complete and the holes are more obvious when I go back over everything.

While my progress wasn't what I had hoped this week, it was what I expected (only about 600 words). Maybe I'll still get in a few hundred while the boys are swimming...

How did everyone else do?

#WIPMADNESS July Check-in Number 3

2011-07-15T09:54:00.000-04:00

It's Harry Potter day at last! I'm not sure how much writing I will get done today, but I am outta here at 2:00 to meet Ghost Son for our standing HP date. Aside from that distraction, it has been a pretty decent WIP week, especially since I broke the 44k mark and am officially building the climax. I continue to have little epiphanies along the way (yay!) as well as those moments of doubt.

Ah yes, those moments of doubt. With Harry Potter stalking me in the background and my rabid reading of the Hunger Games series, I find myself making far too many comparisons which is completely counter productive. I keep thinking, why can't I write like that? Or, I'm doing it wrong. My style is so different and that gestational stage of my WIP has me feeling bloated, unattractive, and downright cranky at times.

I keep telling myself that what I'm reading is a finished product that has gone through its share of fits and starts and revisions, not to mention the number of books Suzanne Collins wrote before this and all her television work. What I'm writing is still in its prenatal state. It's bound to be a little wrinkly and funky-looking. It might even smell bad at times. I'm not sure that pep talk helps, though. In the end, I feel like a teenage mom compared to all these wonderful writers I know and read. Everyone is staring and pointing and judging, dismissing me as unworthy to bring life into the world because I don't even know what it means yet. As uncomfortable as that analogy is, you know what I'm talking about. Then I realize, no...that is not everyone...that is ME. I'm judging and pressuring myself to be something else. I'm the one ready to dismiss myself as a kid who has no business bringing this life into the world because I couldn't possibly have what it takes...yet.

I think I need a Moonstruck Cher to smack me in the face and say "Snap out of it!" When I go back and read some of the earlier chapters of my WIP, I realize that there is a plan here, a voice, a style. It's just not like the dystopian stuff I'm reading for fun, nor should it be. After all, I'm not writing about teenagers fighting to the death in some crazy post-apocolyptic world. I'm writing about ghosts and life in 1850 and a teenager kicking some pre-Civil War ass. It ought to look different. Right?

So what has been your biggest personal challenge with your writing this week?

#WIPMADNESS July Check-in Number 2

2011-07-08T10:33:00.000-04:00

Where did the week go? Well, I think I almost have the WIP plan marked out enough to write these last chapters with some direction. The Ghost-in-Laws were in town from Saturday to Wednesday, so my writing week was a little slim this time around. Somehow I managed to get in about 2,000 words in the few days I had. I will take that.

One fabulous revelation I had came through a number of influences. First, I'm reading CATCHING FIRE, which has inspired a few motivational choices and made me think hard about teenage angst. Second, I had a heart-to-heart with my son about why he continues to read a book. What pulls him on page after page. Of course it was one of those "depends" answers, but still informative. Then I mulled over consequences.

I have to really map out the consequences of each character's choices if the climax is going to carry any umpf. Thus I have begun to build the fire and hope that I can stoke those flames nice and hot. I keep reminding myself that there has to be a clear price for each choice a character makes and I think I'm starting to figure out what they are. It's all about how high the stakes are, right?

So how high have the stakes been for you this week?

The YA Show Down

2011-07-06T16:50:00.000-04:00

If you missed it, go now and listen to today's broadcast of Radio Times from WHYY. The debate over Meghan Cox Gurdon's assault on dark YA literature continues and I must give a standing "O" to Maureen Johnson and to Madeleine Kemper for their eloquent, informed, and well articulated response.

Let's just set aside the fact that there is a lot of wonderful YA lit out there this is funny and smart and full of hope. As for round 1 of #YAshowdown, a few points stand out to me as I thumb through the highlights in my brain:

Let's start with an attitude. Not only is Ms. Gurdon's tone condescending to the writing community, but to teenagers as well. Teens get talked down to enough without literature taking the elitist stand that it knows best and will present a carefully prescribed view of their world no matter what the teenager is going through. Her cloying remarks to Cheryl Rainfield were quite telling. "I'm filled with pity...however, your book could be...extremely disturbing to children...who haven't encountered the phenomenon of cutting." I certainly hope what she went through disturbs people. Cheryl wrote the book in hopes of letting kids know they aren't alone, that healing is possible, that their world is real rather than the sugar-coated bubble-gum culture Ms. Gurdon grew up in. Don't condescend to kids. Don't dismiss their experiences. Don't belittle their response.

Let's talk about the "fun-house mirror" aspect of YA lit, as Ms. Gurdon referred to it. Adolescence is one big fun-house mirror where the world is trying to come into focus, but is drawn askew by so many influences. Emotions are bigger, problems are scarier, no matter what the cold reality in relative terms gives you. YA lit recognizes that and doesn't criticize young people or tell them that they are blowing things out of proportion. It gives them a safe place to explore those emotions.

And the last caller who said, "The job of the writer is to teach the reader...." As Paul Acampora tweeted, "NO. NO. NO. NO. The job or the writer is to tell the truth." Good books do have a clear and consistent moral compass, but that does not mean that their primary purpose is to instruct, no matter what Alexander Pope thought. There are truths that ring hard and clear to teenagers even if adults are afraid of them. We want to protect our kids from the truths of this world as long as possible (and believe me, I do). BUT, kids will go looking for those truths and I am glad there are YA writers out there who will offer it. Those kids can see through the Newspeak and the propaganda. Give them more credit and be a part of that journey rather than a bystander. Read with them. Talk to them.

It should not need to be said, but "correlation" does not mean "cause and effect." Don't assume that if a kid reads a book about cutting, she'll go out and cut herself. Ask why she picked up that book in the first place. Something drew her there. Our world isn't perfect. It isn't always funny. It isn't always nice. It doesn't even make sense half the time, especially to a teenager who is still trying to discover who she is and what kind of power she wields in the great big world. Explore it with her.

#WIPMADNESS July Check-in and Introduction

2011-07-01T14:52:00.000-04:00

I don't know what happened to my June #wipmadness check-in with Erin Bow on her fabulous blog, but somewhere I just lost track. But July has arrived and I promise I will be better about posting the progress, or lack thereof, and offering a little inspiration wherever I can.

Today, I am sharing an insight. One of those little bolts of lightning that zaps you at the core and makes you feel like an idiot before you realize what a treasure it is. And her it is: my muse is a ghost.

As I have struggled through the middle of my WIP and stopped to re-plot and explore where the hell I intended to go in the first place, I have wondered where she was taking me. Sometimes I wondered was she was at all. I knew she had a plan, but she was absolute mud at revealing it to me. I tripped over the holes in my story and got stuck in the trench somewhere, but today my muse snatched hold of my hand and yanked me up and back onto the path.

What did it? What slap in the face woke her up? The spooky side of my book. Yes, as you know I am the Ghost Girl and I guess that's what my muse was trying to tell me. Quick mucking around with all the psychology and character exploration and just jump in with a ghost again.

So, today's 1,061 words centered on a ghosty scene and it came pouring out in all its luscious creepiness. Finally! It felt good. Like a big cool drink after a month in the desert. So, that will be the order of July. Plow ahead and let the Ghost Muse lead me. I can muck it up with character development and all that jazz later!

What revelation is launching you into your July #wipmadness?

Embracing the Human Condition

2011-06-15T12:06:00.001-04:00

Since June 4th, the blogosphere and twitterverse have been teeming with authors and teens in arms against Meghan Cox Gurdon's "review" of YA fiction in the WSJ. Her piece is rife with manipulative little tidbits from concerned mothers who worry that fiction will encourage deviant or self-destructive behavior in their impressionable children. Gurdon takes a paper-thin view and paints it with a broad brush.

A large part of the outcry against her article has responded to Gurdon's argument that "books focusing on pathologies help normalize them and, in the case of self-harm, may even spread their plausibility and likelihood to young people who might otherwise never have imagined such extreme measures." Yes, it's the old the book made me do it ruse. Several authors spoke out about the lunacy of this assertion, none so eloquently as Sherman Alexie. The primary point of his response is the cathartic, re-affirming value of dark YA literature that offers kids in dire situations a sense of salvation. "They read because they live in an often-terrible world. They read because they believe, despite the callow protestations of certain adults, that books-especially the dark and dangerous ones-will save them."

Grace Troxel echoes that sentiment in her blog and defends dark YA literature for its ability to "contextualize" the difficult issues that teens already face and often feel they are fighting alone. She further argues that these novels create a dialogue where for years there has been none. And it's that very lack of dialogue that is most dangerous to our children.

Still others, like Becky Levine, stand up against the ridiculous suggestion that the industry is trying to "bulldoze coarseness and misery" into the lives of our teens while a swarm of tweeters exclaim "#yasaves" and continue to slap back Gurdon's elitist "gatekeeping censorship" disguised as the ever-popular and totally condescending concern for the greater good. I won't get into the question of parental guidance here, but suffice it to say I am an involved parent.

For the most part, much of the conversation I have read so far has focused on the value of YA to change the lives of teenagers who have experienced the worst of this world or the ability YA literature has to contextualize situations and start a dialogue for disenfranchised or marginalized adolescents. All of this is valid and important. But there is an even more crucial idea under attack here: The human condition. Sherman Alexie touches on it:

When some cultural critics fret about the “ever-more-appalling” YA books, they aren’t trying to protect African-American teens forced to walk through metal detectors on their way into school. Or Mexican-American teens enduring the culturally schizophrenic life of being American citizens and the children of illegal immigrants. Or Native American teens growing up on Third World reservations. Or poor white kids trying to survive the meth-hazed trailer parks. They aren’t trying to protect the poor from poverty. Or victims from rapists.

No, they are simply trying to protect their privileged notions of what literature is and should be. They are trying to protect privileged children. Or the seemingly privileged.

I think about my own son, a white, middle-class teenager who has faced some upheaval and disappointment along with the typical angst of adolescence, but nothing like addiction, rape, poverty, or mental illness. Does that mean he should never read anything that deals with such harsh subjects? What do books like Speak or The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian or Scars have to offer my son? The same thing that the Harry Potter books or the Percy Jackson series or any number of zombie books that he has read offers. A look at the human condition. We are flawed. We have fears. We make mistakes. We get betrayed and hurt and life gets messy. And some kids have been subjected to as many horrors as adults, perhaps even more. But we pick ourselves up from whatever our circumstance and choose how to respond. The majority of kids (a hopeful estimation) may never know such dire circumstances as those in some of the books they read, but for most kids (even the privileged), adolescence feels like a battleground where the choices they make have far more complex and far-reaching consequences and reinforcements don't always arrive on time. At least they can go through the paces and explore those questions through the pages of a book where the monsters are only ink and shadows and the kids are ultimately heroes.

It is a hard lesson to learn that the world is not a warm lap and tender kisses and sunshine all around, but adolescence is for finding yourself as well as learning how to deal with the realities of this world. My son is not about to go cut himself or smoke crack because he read about it in a book, no matter how devastated he was by recent personal events. But he may understand a classmate's behavior a little more. He may develop a stronger sense of relativity and compassion. He may find a strength he never knew before. He will have an even better sense of what it means to be human. And he will choose what he becomes.

While I would like to protect my children from all the ugliness in the world, I would do them far more harm if I pretended it didn't exist.

Thoughts on the Impact of eBooks

2011-06-09T09:53:00.000-04:00

With the rise in sales of eBooks and the constantly evolving market for eReaders, the question has arisen whether the effect of technology will drive the printed book to extinction. I've posted about this before (Clouds in my Coffee) and I can't say I have any better answers, but it did make me wonder what the effect of audio books has been over the years and whether that looked as ominous as eBooks when it all started. Granted, they each hit slightly different market motivations, but what is the correlation?

My husband listens to a lot of audio books simply because it allows him to read more than he would otherwise. He listens while he's mowing the lawn, taking a shower, driving, and other less convenient places for paper books. He still buys paper books, especially those he wants to read again or keep as a resource. But for fun, popular fiction, he often goes the audio book route. Ultimately, I doubt he would ever really subscribe to the whole eBook deal simply because it would just be another way to read a paper book...involving hands and eyes.

So, why choose eBooks over paper? For the most part, I think people choose it for the weight factor, as well as convenience. Why lug around 60 pounds of literature when you can have your entire library at your finger tips for just 8.5 ounces? I know that's one reason so many agents and editors glommed on to the Kindle way back when. Are there other reasons?

Audio books certainly have their niche and they have provided literature for a wider audience who might not otherwise read paper books at all. They have also generated additional revenues for the publishing business. Will eBooks find that same kind of well-defined niche or will they supplant the printed word altogether?

I would love to know how many writers have an eReader, how many are thinking of getting one, and how many refuse to be traitors to tradition.

What are your thoughts on the issue? Please feel free to comment in detail.

Learning: The Quintessential Survival Skill

2011-06-08T10:26:00.001-04:00

I've been considering picking up some additional graduate work and the following is my response to a request for a writing sample. The topic was "the impact of three issues that challenge educators today." This will be the last of my rants on educational topics for a while...I promise.

As I stepped through the door into my own classroom at Heritage High School eighteen years ago, I brought my passel of ideals and my passion for literature with me and laid them right out for everyone to see. I had no doubt that these pieces of gold would inspire my students and generate a whirlwind of learning, no matter how disparate the learning styles or how severe the behavioral issues or anemic the student motivation. I had a mission. If only it were that simple. While I had the immeasurable support of my administration and confidence in my vision, it soon became clear that there was a lot more to being a teacher than teaching, talent, and good intentions. In college, no one really prepares you for the politics of teaching. By politics, I don’t mean the ideology of the superintendent or the social etiquette of the faculty lunch room. I mean the white noise that both student and teacher must endure to get the job done.
Working in a township school, I was prepared for some disparities in the socio-economic composition of the student body, but the most persistent motivational roadblock came not from the students themselves, but from their parents. Politicians argue about the accountability of the school districts for the quality of their children’s education, but one of the most damaging cultural attitudes that teachers must face is a devaluing of education by the already disenfranchised. In this particular community, many of the parents had never finished high school, let alone gone on to college. They were farmers or factory workers who saw school as a necessary evil. Other families may be broken, one-parent homes relying on school to babysit their children while the parent worked two or three jobs just to make ends meet and avoid welfare. The frustration, exhaustion, and formative experiences of the parents translated to a mistrust of school as an institution and even an adversarial relationship with education itself, an attitude which was ultimately inherited by their children. They did not see education as an opportunity, but rather as just another yard stick with which to measure their deficiencies. It is difficult to help these students (and their parents) see the value of learning for its own sake, but that is part of our mission.
As our economy struggles, the divide between the haves and the have-nots grows and so does this attitude that education is not for everyone. Lack of equity in the distribution of resources has always been an issue. Some school systems simply do not have the same access to funding or the most modern resources essential to educational growth. And with the lightning pace of technological advances, many schools cannot keep up, which again pits the more affluent communities against the poorer communities and the politicians get to decide who gets funding based on academic performance rather than need. Their altruistic but misguided answer is No Child Left Behind legislation that is intended to hold public schools accountable for sloppy standards, bad teaching, and poor programming. However good its intentions, NCLB is in large part perpetuating some of the most pervasive problems as it widens the gap and confirms those old prejudices against education. It has created a “teach to the test” mentality in many school systems that are terrified of losing their funding or being labeled as “the bad school” and abandoned by anyone with the means to transfer their child to a “choice” school. Administrators have begun to pressure, and in some cases bully, their faculty into using a canned pedagogy that may encourage a stronger performance on the test but that will surely hinder true learning, which is whole the point of education. Jobs are threatened, innovation is stifled, and whole populations are ignored in the name of that sacred test score. Sadly, NCLB is now a significant part of the problem instead of the solution.
Solid, veteran teachers will continue to inspire their students and help them learn, but in some ways their efforts may be hobbled by politics. First year teachers do not have the experience to help them discern where an appropriate line can be drawn between content and learning so they rely on their administration and their mentors. Moreover, the efficacy of the assessment is only as good as the instrument, and we have plenty of research that demonstrates the biases and limitations inherent in many standardized tests. So where does this leave ESL students and students with learning disabilities and other special needs? With the ever growing diagnoses of children with ADD, ADHD, and Asperger’s Syndrome, as well as other issues that affect learning, the current trend in response to NCLB is to make few accommodations while forcing them to participate in this flawed evaluation process. There is no specific measurement of their growth as a subset of the population. Through my own teaching experience, I saw the number of students with these issues in my classroom grow year by year. Some of these students had early intervention, but many went undiagnosed or unserved for years. In addition, the influx of non-English speaking immigrants is disproportionate across regions, yet these students are introduced to our classrooms, often with little support depending upon the availability of funds and programs, and included in our standardized testing which will impact that carefully guarded average that represents “adequate yearly progress” and subsequent NCLB approval.
Teaching has always been a challenging vocation and certainly not a profession for the weak-hearted. Education, however, is the backbone of any society and no matter what the political climate or the changing demographics or the gap in generational attitudes, learning is the essential point. A student cannot effectively acquire content knowledge unless he learns how to learn first. At its very core, learning is a survival skill, one that needs to be nurtured and fed and practiced throughout life. Good teachers lead their students onward through the white noise and help them develop the most crucial competency they will ever master—the ability to learn.

Fast Food Education?

2011-06-06T11:17:00.006-04:00

Caution: The following post may rant, rave, or otherwise inflict strong opinions upon the reader.

The week before I graduated from college, looking forward to working on my Master's degree and beginning a career as a teacher, I was treated to dinner out with my parents. Though I embraced my calling whole-heartedly, graduation still brought out the jitters and uncertainty of my impending "adult" life. My parents apparently felt it their duty to add to the butterflies in my stomach by choosing that night to question my plans and denigrate what I thought of as a noble and intellectually fulfilling field of work. They wanted me to be a lawyer or even a doctor, not a teacher. Teaching would be an abominable waste of my talents.

As I sat there with my jaw hanging open and my stomach in knots, two things came to me. First, I realized that my parents had no idea who I really was or what talents I possessed. Second, I realized that these two people, with their college degrees and their white-collar jobs had already forgotten who had led them to that place of success and who had prepared the daughter sitting in front of them go out and blaze her own trail and quit sponging off them. They may believe both their own success and my impending launch into independence was all of their own making, but anyone who knows my family dynamics would laugh out loud at either supposition. By some miracle, I left their doubts and denigration in the dust and pursued my own dream anyway. After 20 years of teaching, raising my own children, and writing, I wouldn't change a thing.

Sadly, my parents' cynical and demeaning attitude towards teaching continues to infect our culture and ultimately tear down the once high standards and respect that used to be and should always be associated with teachers. This morning, I saw this story on the Today Show:

Believe me, I know what it is to face such malice, and what makes it worse is this infuriating notion that because we teach "children" we are no longer human beings with the right to protect our own safety. I emphasize the word "children" because it's obvious that high school students like the one in the video are not those helpless, wide-eyed little creatures we like to think of when we say that word. This guy was physically a man. At 5'2 and 100 lbs, I certainly would have felt threatened. In fact, our 6'1 male band director was assaulted by a student with a hammer and sent to the hospital one year. Another was jumped by 3 male students after school and beaten severely...all because one of the boys was told to spit out his gum 3 times before he was sent to the hall for mouthing off.

What struck me most about Mrs. Hadsock's plight was this general attitude about teaching in the United States. Have we become no more than babysitters? Are we simply custodians or surrogate disciplinarians for parents who don't have the time or inclination to actually raise the children they spawn for whatever reason? (modifier purposely ambiguous there). If a kid acts out to the point that he endangers someone else's safety, why does a teacher get both blamed for the kid's actions and punished for protecting herself and her students? A student does not get a "get out jail free" card just because he is chronological still considered a kid, nor do the parents.

Our government has passed laws that require us to educate our children to a certain age to protect those children from the kind of industrial age slave labor and mistreatment we can find in any Charles Dickens novel. Why? Because we should care that our children grow up healthy, happy, and educated and become responsible adults who continue to make our country financially, politically, and morally strong. Otherwise, why not leave them in the sweat shops and blacking factories and corn fields?

I chose to teach because I love literature, learning, and writing. But even more, there is a certain magic that happens when a kid discovers something new, both for the kid and for the teacher. It's a physical sensation as much as it is an intellectual one. That tingle that makes you feel strong and smart and capable of anything. It's intoxicating and completely addictive. What's more, I know how priceless the ability to learn is and what teachers sacrifice to share that with their students.

Teaching is not a cushy job that gives you lots of holidays and the summers off. Most of us work practically non-stop. A teacher never stops looking for inspiration, for those little connections that may spark magic in the classroom. We think about ways to reach our students even in our sleep. Never mind all the grading and paperwork and preparation we have to do. We come to our mission with awe for the sheer impact it can have on a single life. But for a growing number of parents and kids, teachers are like those frozen burritos you can buy 4 for a dollar at the Quick-E-Mart: cheap, convenient, and filling the most basic purpose. There is no respect, no sense of honor, no reverence for the deliverer of the most crucial survival skill a kid can master—learning.

I know there are some lemon teachers out there, more and more every year precisely because of this attitude. We give education majors more hoops to jump through instead of higher standards and greater inspiration. We demand our teachers teach to a flawed test instead of teach our kids how to learn. We lower our standards so we can raise our numbers. It's no wonder this generation is filled with a false sense of entitlement and false self-esteem. It's all based on nothing. Their advancement, their diploma, their sense of self-worth. Show up and get a medal. Actual participation is optional.

To Mrs. Hadsock, I say thank you for caring, thank you for inspiring, thank you for demanding that you get the respect you deserve. For those who consider teachers to be nothing more than convenience food, shame on you.

Fear and Loathing

2011-05-10T10:35:00.000-04:00

I just read a writer-friend's post on The Abyss of Suckitude and she has nailed some things right on the head. Maybe it's the artistic temperament, but I think we all go through some version of what she describes. It got me thinking about this last year of writing...and not writing...and why I've been in such a funk. I'm working on my third YA novel, now, and each one has been a different experience.

My first story was in many ways a catharsis for me. It was a taking back of things in my childhood that had been so rudely stolen by the dysfunction of my family. I know. There is dysfunction in all families. But trust me when I say mine is pretty royally screwed up. So, I took things from my MC and forced her to grow up and confront her own guilt and longing. Catharsis. (not necessarily "writing") I don't know if I'll ever publish it, but I will treasure it.

My second novel was a journey. I learned where my writing could go and gained more confidence in it. I crafted and molded and dug deep. I met characters who refuse to leave me even now, refuse to be quiet while I try to move on. They are still waiting for their day in the sun. I have to believe they will find it when they are truly ready. Or at least, when the world is ready for them.

Novel #3 is a whole new experience. In some ways, I'm afraid of it. I have big plans for it...maybe too big. That is part of the problem. What if I choke? What if in the end, I truly deeply suck? There is only so long I can blame the upheaval that has been the last three years of my life for hindering my writing. Now I need to take charge and make it happen. What if I can't do it? There are people I don't want to disappoint, including me. What if I only think I can write? Am I kidding myself? If that kind of doubt isn't enough, the next step is to pick apart my draft and search for every fault just so I can beat myself in the head with it. How many good writers do that? I have almost managed to convince myself that all good writers to that.

But somewhere deep down, there is this odd little person who thinks she can really write. Who believes she has some fascinating stories to tell. And behind that funny little person is a host of characters all waiting to be heard. Waiting to be discovered. Waiting to change someone's life, even if it just means they live in someone else's head (or heart) for a short time.

I've taken my share of rejection and handled it. I don't blame my crappy childhood for my adult failures (mostly). If anything, I might have to give thanks for it. The store of emotions and experiences I have to play with is vast and oh so interesting. I've learned to kick myself harder than anyone else can just to stay ahead of things and that's not always bad. What doesn't kill us makes us better writers, right?

And then I find those bits of gold that remind me why I write. Those same gilded clubs I beat myself with are what make me a writer. They are voices that won't be silenced. The moments of crystalline brilliance that I cannot be afraid to own. The little morsels of humanity that force us into a kind of intimacy with ourselves that only books can bring—both in the writing and in the reading.

So I'm going to kick my fear and self-loathing in the butt and write a stunning YA novel. You know that saying: Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. ~Ambrose Redmoon

I think I have found just enough in my writing to make that judgement.

Will Technology De-value Our Books?

2011-04-18T11:42:00.000-04:00

As I was thumbing through my usual blog quest and twitter scan today, dystopian visions of a Brave New World sort began to cloud my writerly fantasies of what the future will hold not only for me and my books, but for books in general. Several cyber acquaintances are exploring the ramifications of the electronic world of publishing. I'm not pronouncing the end of literary days or anything, but I do wonder. No matter what lay ahead in technology, story telling and books will endure, but will they hold the same value? Or will it simply become our dose of soma, minus the euphoria? Something to maintain the status quo, fill a void but only with white noise?

Nathan Bransford's post looks at the economic philosophies that drive market evolution and applies them to the publishing world, namely to the bargain ebook phenomenon. While his post is hopeful, it does leave me wondering if books will be as valuable to our grandchildren as they are to us. I won't rehash the whole doomsday prediction of the end of paper books, but as technology takes us in a new direction, will books become no more than a disposable blip on the kindle/ipad/computer screen? I tend to agree with Nathan that quality will always find its way out and the everyman march to mediocre is a myth. (I pray!)

I admit—I'm a book junky. I hoard them, spend money I don't have on them, stockpile more than I can possibly read, and lie there and inhale the sent of paper and ink and glue as if it were crack. I pet their tattered bindings and talk to them when we're alone. Kind of pathetic, I know. But to me, books are not only my drug, they are my religion, my family, my consolation.

Okay, so ebooks are going to take over the world and relegate print matter to back room "read-easies" or the Antiques Road Show or the antiquities section of the Smithsonian along with the mummies and the salvaged remains of the Titannic. Let's say that ebooks do balance the market out and maintain the integrity of good reading. What happens to those oh-so-precious-and-valuable signed editions?

Someone has thought of that. Autography will allow an author to sign her ebook for a fan and digitize that personal touch for posterity. (Pardon the ironic smile) So...what will a signed electronic edition of J.K. Rowling's next book be worth in 50 years? Will electronic signatures be pirated and distributed en masse with a single click? What would an e-signature be worth, then? How is it authenticated? Or does that point simply become moot because that sense of iconic wonder, of religious fervor, of hero-worshipping awe has simply faded away into the everyday blip of silicon-induced complacency?

I wonder...

Gold Star to Nathan Bransford

2011-04-05T15:02:00.001-04:00

Just a short post. If you are a writer and you don't follow Nathan Bransford, you should. Today he posted a particularly salient piece, given a few recent meltdowns in cyberspace, that reminds us that the artistic temperament and the speed-of-light conduit of information that is the internet often do not mix well.

Miscellaneous Madness

2011-04-05T11:08:00.000-04:00

Butler made it to the finals and almost took the championship, tragedies both small and large changed my path more than once, and writing goals took on new meaning over those 31 raging spring days.
Thank you to the March Madness crew and all those who participated for keeping me motivated and inspired. I didn't quite reach my goal, but I gained momentum that will surely kick some April butt.

The biggest event of the month continues to haunt us as Japan struggles with the devastation and potential radiation contamination wrought by the earthquake and tsunami on March 11th. I continue to get news from friends and acquaintances as I pray for healing and grace for everyone effected by this event. If you wish to help, Charity Watchdog has compiled a list and some general information about organizations committed to helping Japan.

As for a small tragedy, my dear daughter unexpectedly lost her bunny last week. Can you remember that first pet that was really yours, that you gave your whole heart to and spoiled with affection every day? This was hers. Aptly named "Angel," that little rabbit loved the attention and gave Ghost Daughter so much in return. The most heart-wrenching part of it all is that Angel died basically in our girl's lap. She was moving and content one minute and the next, dead. Our poor girl brought this lifeless body to her daddy and asked, "Is she dead?" After mourning and keening for a day, and a lovely funeral, Angel was laid to rest. A heart attack is the most likely culprit. The first weekend of April brought a 4-hour drive North to a breeder where we adopted Angel Jr. and started a new journey, Ghost Daughter, me, and the bunny.

And the writing goals? Well I added more than 10k to my WIP, had a few plot/character epiphanies, and kicked up the pace, so the madness led to at least a more focused method. It's odd, though, how life can show me such unexpected moments of despair and supreme grace that not only give me perspective on reality, but inspire me to want to capture it in a place where we so often go to escape—writing. The more real it is, the deeper the catharsis.

Perhaps that is just too much philosophizing for a Tuesday...

Project 365

2011-04-03T19:41:00.001-04:00

March flew by far too fast, but I will take some time to reflect and blog about the madness in a bit. (A good kind of crazy!) But today marks the 18th anniversary of the day Ghost Hunk and I said our vows and promised to love each other forever. A woman asked me how we managed 18 years. The simple answer is, make love an action and keep doing it every day.

To celebrate, and because blogger pal Just Mom inspired me, I'm going to take a photo a day for the next 365 days and post it on my photo blog. Why not here? I want to keep this place tidy for my writing ranting and reflection. But perhaps I just build another Blogger site for the project. We'll see.

In the meantime, off I go to year #19!

March Madness and Spring Break...(sort of)

2011-03-08T19:08:00.000-05:00

Well in southwest Georgia, Spring has arrived. I gripe a lot about living here, but this is one lovely perk...spring in February. But March has somehow hopped right in here and I have a lot to get done. So I will definitely be a mad hare as I dash through my WIP (ha ha) and get it ready for my awesome agent. I wish I could guarantee that my WIP will be so awesome, but it's a first draft and a bolder project than the last.

To keep me on the right track, I'm following a fabulous group of writers who are blogging to inspire. Join me as I check in all month:

Denise Jaden (Mondays)
Shana Silver (Tuesdays)
Angelina Hansen (Wednesdays)
Shari Green (Thursdays)
Craig Pirrall (Fridays)

*I've been told there will be prizes as well as inspiration!

Drawing conclusions... and a contest!

2011-02-18T09:09:00.000-05:00

Check out the interview with Ruth McNally Barshaw, author/illustrator of the ELLIE MCDOODLE series for young readers, over on the MIXED UP FILES OF MIDDLE-GRADE AUTHORS blog.

Sketches and doodles are a fun trend in MG books, and one that my kids can really relate to. Ghost Daughter comes home everyday with a notebook full of adventures and commentary. I can hardly keep the kid in paper!

Tattoo Me...Please!

2011-02-13T11:18:00.000-05:00

Is it a mid-life crisis thing? Or perhaps a need to rebel? Or maybe just an urge to take control of some small part of my bod? For whatever reason, I've been aching to get a tattoo. The big question is, what do I want to etch into my ivory skin forever? Of course a nice little celtic design would graft my love of Ireland to my shoulder for all eternity. Maybe a spunky little fairy. Of course horses are another passion, but I'm not sure I want just a horse-shaped stamped on my shoulder blade unless it's something really interesting. What about something literary? I considered a wonderful "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good" or something like that, but I think an iconic image would be more up my alley for this purpose. Or maybe something ghosty.

Here's the gig:

I need a great idea.
It has to be small. I don't want it to swarm across my back. Just a small little accent on my shoulder blade.
It can be color or monochrome
I'm asking my blogging buddies for help...HELP!

If you have a suggestion, post it in the comments along with a link to the image. OR email me with your suggestion and paste the image right in the email. I'm open to original work by any of my illustrator buddies as well.

Hit me with your best!

Obligatory Morals...

2011-01-26T11:10:00.000-05:00

Apparently HARPER COLLINS has added some new language to their contracts:

New language in the termination provision of the Harper’s boilerplate gives them the right to cancel a contract if “Author’s conduct evidences a lack of due regard for public conventions and morals, or if Author commits a crime or any other act that will tend to bring Author into serious contempt, and such behavior would materially damage the Work’s reputation or sales.” The consequences? Harper can terminate your book deal. Not only that, you’ll have to repay your advance. Harper may also avail itself of “other legal remedies” against you.

There is quite a wave of response to this in the blogsphere, including the an initial posting from Richard Curtis (quoted above), a spicy offering from Ursula Leguin, and a fun romp from Jock Stewart. Steve Laube offers a somewhat different take, citing the standard MO of Christian Book publishers.

While I ruminate...what do you all think?

Huck's Audience

2011-01-08T12:25:00.000-05:00

With all the flurry over the recent attempt to sanitize THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN for young audiences, one important element of the question seems to have gotten lost. Who was the intended audience? For that matter, consider the newly released film version of Jonathan Swift's GULLIVER'S TRAVELS. It is being marketed as a fun "family" film, but Swift's work was carefully crafted political satire aimed at adults.

Now look closely at Twain's book. Consider when he wrote it, not only in terms of the historical time period but also in terms of the stage of Twain's own life. Though he may have envisioned a boy's adventure book when he began writing it, his novel became something very different by the end. The end of Reconstruction, the introduction of Jim Crow, and a flood of lynchings as well as personal tragedy led Twain to put the half-finished manuscript on the shelf for seven years before he finally picked it back up. And when he did, he came at the novel from a very different place. There is far more darkness in his tale than today's young people would understand. Does that mean they shouldn't read it? No.

However, it does mean that we should treat it as what it is. This book has been a point of contention on school reading lists for decades primarily because of the language, yet teachers want to share this eloquent indictment of Southern Honor and Post-Reconstruction realities with students of all ages. Why? What abiding truth resonates with the young reader? I think the problem is that many teachers don't really answer that question, if they ask it all all, before they plunge in with a group of unsuspecting 8th-graders. Does a popsicle-stick raft really demonstrate an important theme in the book?

I'm not saying we shouldn't include this in our school reading list or ban people from teaching it. I'm just saying don't be careless with it because you think it was meant for kids to read and learn a lesson about racism and don't let a sanitized version of the text lure you into a complacence that fails to address the true issues in the book. An adolescent main character does not always mean a book was written for kids. Is THE LOVELY BONES a book for young readers?

You can look around and find a host of classics that have been turned into graphic novels or abbreviated versions for young readers and that is not a bad thing. We teach books written for adults all the time. But if you wish to teach a book like HUCK FINN, don't assume that because one offensive word has been extracted or painted a different color that it is somehow more relevant or more acceptable to a young audience.

Kids can learn a lot from HUCK FINN. Don't boil it down to a single word and don't assume that it was written for kids. Think about those abiding truths you want your students to glean and start there. After all, if we want them to learn how to think about the hard questions, we have to be good models and ask them ourselves.

"Light Out, Huck, They Still Want to Sivilize You"

2011-01-06T20:17:00.000-05:00

Yes, it's time for another round of literary sanitation in the name of political correctness. If you haven't heard, an English professor at Auburn University is protecting us from ourselves in order to preserve a classic for generations to come. How does he plan to do that? He has replaced the word nigger with the word slave in THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN. All 243 times it appears. His hope is to make the book more palatable and less taboo to parents, teachers, and young readers alike in order to preserve a classic.

While I understand his aim, I have mixed emotions about the ramifications of such a cleansing. My guts tightened and my brain shuddered when I heard the news. Who would dare? But I'm sure many teachers have grown weary of explaining and testing the cultural climate before attempting to teach the text and have abandoned it altogether in the name of job security. It's a delicate business and believe me, I understand. But there is something more to this issue beside censorship and the political conscience of a modern audience. For me, it's as simple as integrity.

I taught HUCKELBERRY FINN in the 90's and my students truly "got" it. Now, keep in mind, I didn't just fling the book at them and dive into it without any context. That would be ludicrous. But then teaching any classic without context is not only asinine, but borderline criminal. In his New York Times article, Michiko Kakutani sums up a crucial point here:

Never mind that today nigger is used by many rappers, who have reclaimed the word from its ugly past. Never mind that attaching the epithet slave to the character Jim — who has run away in a bid for freedom — effectively labels him as property, as the very thing he is trying to escape.

I was teaching high school juniors at the time, and when I announced our next project, several sighed and said, "We already read that in 8th grade." These were gifted students, mind you, and they had little tolerance for repetition let alone something that has been dubbed a "kid's adventure story." Yes, that is how it was presented to them the first time around.[shudder] Of course I set them straight and then presented the historical and cultural context, complete with disclaimers about language. Also consider that the demographics of this school were 49% caucasian, 48% African American, and 3% other (Indian, Iranian, etc.) Moreover, the socio-economic scale reached from the poorest to the wealthiest (children of pro football players and heart surgeons, etc.) who made their own cliques to often surprising ends. When we had finished, several students remarked that they had read a completely different book. They had no idea that that is what the book was about. They loved it and each one of them took in the truth that they found there.

Prof. Gribben hopes to introduce more young people to Huck by sterilizing part of the very social comment that Twain was addressing. Of course we have seen the term pass through different usages and through its evolution, we have cringed and cursed at the sound of it. But what is really at the heart of good literature? Truth. No matter how ugly, uncomfortable, or embarrassing, if we seek it earnestly, we shall find it. As teachers, isn't that a large part of our job, to help our students discover their understanding of the world and its naked truth?

The primary problem is not the text. The problem is that so many teachers get it wrong. If you think that boiling down a social commentary like HUCKLEBERRY FINN to nothing more than a jaunt on the Mississippi, than you should not be teaching it to anyone. The rich, beautiful, harsh story says so much about Twain's understanding of a country that had just come through a firestorm, not unscathed, not instantly wiser, and certainly not romantically mussed up, but truly, brutally scarred. This isn't a book about friendship and acceptance. This is a book about honor and truth and clarity. Where is the honor and truth and clarity in eviscerating the text and subjugating the context?

In the end, Huck doesn't necessarily see all slaves as equals, but he does see Jim as a man—an honorable, brave man—and a friend. Mark Twain simply asked that we look at him, that we look at ourselves, that we see this country as it was, warts and all and consider the truth. Don't look away now because it makes you uncomfortable. You'll miss the most important parts.

Tales from the NaNoWriMo Trenches, Part II (The Emotional Melée)

2010-12-23T11:29:00.000-05:00

My first friend made it easy—a sort of halfbreed cross between Inspiration and Determination. With my lower lip clenched tightly in my teeth, my fingers warm and nimble, I launched into my WIP with a vigor I hadn't seen it quite a while. This was it. Time to bang out that novel in 30 days and then spend a few months making it over for the real world. She carried me high through the first week, nudging me closer to sun with little bursts of enthusiasm. Of course another mosher was constantly tugging at me from behind.

Hello, Guilt. Oh yes, this little friend was high-spirited and relentless. "Ghost Girl, you're neglecting your family!" he shouted. "The kids can't survive on frozen salisbury steak and applesauce forever!" I swear he even brainwashed the tater tots who glared up at me from their grease-stained paper plates and chanted "saturated fats...saturated fats...you're killing your children!" I covered my ears and pressed on, but that nasty little mosher rallied the rabid dust bunnies to revolt. But I just closed my eyes and flung myself deeper into the pit.

Aha...halfway through the month, I felt myself slipping, tumbling in a rock slide of dwindling word-counts. 200 one day, 150 the next. Suddenly, a toady little critter tugged at my pants leg. Fifty more stood arm-in-arm behind him, salivating through their smug grins. Yes, it was Defeat and his minions. Their triumphant taunts rang throughout cyberspace: "I hit 28k today!" "I'm almost done and I have 15 days left!" "I'm finished...time to revise!" Yes, there I was caught in the tightly clenched jaws of defeat, clutching my meager 12,000 words in my tiny fist. A new pile of ENG 1102 essays mocked me from the corner. Even the Thanksgiving turkey betrayed me! "Time to write...," they taunted. It wasn't their fault that others were more on the ball than I was.

But somewhere in the midst of my grading haze and my post Thanksgiving stupor, another voice sifted through the darkness. "Look what you did! You broke through! You taught your students, fed your kids, and broke through!" She grabbed me by the ear and pulled my face in close. "There..." She pointed her bony finger at the bottom of my laptop screen. Blinking back at me from a tiny grey box was a small but admirable figure. Perhaps a little lean, but very well-formed and even beautiful in places. 13,340, you're not so bad. I gave my tiny sense of Accomplishment a little pat and said, "Welcome to the moshpit, now let's go dance..."

Tales from the NaNoWriMo Trenches, Part I

2010-12-12T11:15:00.000-05:00

As promised, it's time to spill my guts about the whole NaNoWriMo whirlwind. First, there is a very specific kind of mental gymnastics you have to do to commit yourself to this process. I decided to do NaNoWriMo primarily to kick-start my new YA WIP and motivate myself passed whatever obstacle was keeping me from breaking through. I won't call it "writer's block" because I had a fair idea of what I was writing and where I wanted to go. It's more like a supra-sensory overload that left me spinning in neutral. Perhaps it was even one part fear of failure. After all, I had just written my best work yet and somehow it still didn't break out (not that it won't, soon). So I told myself that it didn't matter if I didn't finish the book in 30 days, just as long as I made some real forward progress.

Okay. All set, right? Not exactly. I had to stretch something else, a muscle that is strung so tightly it just might rip in two if I'm not careful. I'm talking about the meta-writer, the constant editor that lives in my head and refuses to let me just vomit on the page. But if you are going to write 50,000 words in 30 days, you have to let that baby fly! Ouch! Not so easy for this perfectionist.

Flexing. Stretching. Laying out the outline before Nov. 1st. Check. Hey, I even spewed some real stupidity on my awesome Scrivener note cards. All right! And then the righting began. Frozen dinners, too much TV, not necessarily bathed on time—that was my kids' side of the bargain. Ghost Hunk is rarely affected by these bouts of creative diarrhea, but he does eventually step in and man the standby parent booth when necessary.

And there I was, stoked and stretched and all warmed up. I spat out 1200 words the first day. Logged another 800 the second day. Stumbled through about 250 on day 3. Then I hit a 2K day and danced a rather conspicuous little jig at the café, though I saw very little of my family and spent the wee hours of the night preparing for class the next day. But my main concern was...is this crap? No matter how much I screwed up my courage and my resolve, I still could not fight the urge to spend 20 minutes searching for the right word or go back and add that certain something to the previous scene to connect the dots. But I did manage to throw down a few painfully nasty tidbits and move on just to keep the momentum going. I'll come back later! My mind couldn't help itself...it kept wandering off to the revision process already. Scratching that itch just enough to distract me from my forward motion. Back! Back, I say! (kkkaccchhhh!) And on I marched.

By the time I got to November 20th, I had more than 13,000 words down and the satisfaction that I had indeed broken through. By that time, however, I had also lost that sense of reckless momentum and had a new stack of papers to grade and a Thanksgiving dinner to prepare as well as a significant ghost kid crisis to diffuse. And 37,000 words to go?!! Oh the pressure! It was either vomit or take a long nap and sleep it off. I chose to sleep it off.

I'm all for NaNoWriMo and applaud those who whiz through it, some hitting 50k by Nov. 15th! I might do it again, but I don't think I can ever kill my meta-writer or even bind and gag her long enough to spit out 50k in 30 days. But the whole experience gave me two awesome gifts...a breakthrough and a new bit of writing software that kicks some butt.

Next: The emotional melée of NaNoWriMo...

Crafting a Story vs. Writing a Story: Tales from the NaNoWriMo trenches

2010-11-09T10:59:00.002-05:00

Coming soon...

Halloween and NaNoWriMo...Oh My!

2010-11-01T16:16:00.000-04:00

Well it's here. NaNoWriMo, and I greeted it at 3:00am with a firm resolve and a bad case of insomnia. So what the heck! I wrote 500 words. Not my daily goal, but it's a start. More to come later.

Now what about the Ghost kids and Halloween? Ghost Son is officially a teenager, so no pictures could be had of him and his banana-toting buddies, but Ghost Daughter can safely say she was the only Falcon on the streets that night:

Countdown to Chaos!

2010-10-30T09:48:00.001-04:00

Less than 48 hours until NaNoWriMo begins and I'm not ready yet. Egads! I'm taking today and most likely tomorrow to get my plot straightened out and get myself poised for the attack. My students are doing poetry, which will make it a little easier on me as far as my reading and prep load.

I'm hosting a Write-In and believe or not, I think at least 3 people will actually be there! As far as I know, however, I'm the only kidlit writer in these parts. Anyway, ELEMENTS Coffe Co., crank up the expresso machine and the teapot and get ready for us!

Full disclosure, I am picking up my WIP for this one, but since I'm scarcely 4,000 words in, I'm taking it as a reboot and not vying for a win (if you know what I mean). Lots of buddies are participating this year, so I hope they have their extra powerful motivational boots on so they can kick me in the pants with wild abandon! Now, if you haven't yet checked out Nathan Bransford's awesome advice for NaNoWriMo prep work, get your buns over to his blog and drink it in.

Write on, folks!

NaNoWriMo...Why Not?

2010-10-18T14:24:00.001-04:00

I admit it. I'm a NaNoWriMo virgin. But I'm putting it out there this time around, hoping that the community and the deadline will give me a little extra momentum as I try to get this next YA banged out. I've resisted in the past primarily because I was already well into a project and making steady progress. This time, however, I could use a little pick-me-up. So here I go.

I'm looking to my writing buddies and acquaintances for further encouragement, and they never let me down. Many of the gals from The Mixed-Up Files of Middle Grade Authors have participated and they're good at spreading the fever. Stephanie Ruble has also offered some helpful tips for newbies like me.

So stay tuned...the counter should be cranking at top speed in about 2 weeks!

Thank You.

2010-10-15T15:03:00.000-04:00

This summer, Ghost Daughter attended a fabulous American Girl Summer Camp at Darton College. As they learned about Kit and what life was like during wartime, they thought a lot about the service men and women who are protecting not only our freedom, but that of others around the globe. To learn more about money, the girls put up a lemonade stand and used the money to put together CARE packages for some troops stationed in Afghanistan.

Not too long ago, we received a lovely surprise in the mail. Warrant Officer Phillip Kelliher and his troops were so touched by the girls' notes and cards and thoughtful gifts that they dedicated a mission to the girls and sent along the flag they had flown over that mission as well as a certificate the named the date of the mission and its dedication to the girls. The flag and the original certificate will be displayed in the Office of Continuing Education at Darton.

Reading the personal note from CW4 Kelliher touched both me and Ghost Daughter so much and inspired us to do a little something more. It's not much, but Ghost Daughter wanted it to be personal and hand-made, so I knitted a couple of little soldiers to send CW4 Kelliher. Perhaps I'll make some more. I just know that whenever I think of him and his troops, I wish I could hug each and everyone of them and send them a little piece of home.

I have met a girl who truly knows the value of what these troops are doing. A young woman who had to be smuggled out of Afghanistan before her mother's traitorous act of educating her daughters got them all killed. She started her senior year (at a high school where I once taught) labeled simply as "home-schooled" and soared to the top of the class. Other students were upset that based on only one semester, this stranger uprooted a classmate from the top 10. It wasn't until the Senior Honors dinner that these fortunate young people learned what they really had.

Each student took a turn to stand up and introduce their special guest at the dinner. Some of them brought teachers, some brought family friends. This young woman brought her savior. When her turn came, she stood and told a cynical public how her mother had hidden her and her sister away and educated them in secret because to do so openly could mean death. That everyday, her mother had risked her own life to give her children a better one. That this man, her dear honored guest, had risked his life to smuggle them out of the country just so they could be free to learn and live. This is what an education meant to her. Something worth dying for.

So for all those men and women who serve, thank you. Forget all the political diatribes and posturing. Think of those who lay their lives on the line everyday to protect our lives and our freedom.

Burn, Baby, Burn...

2010-10-08T15:12:00.000-04:00

I've been absent from the blogosphere a bit too long, dealing with the sometimes overwhelming tasks of being a writer/teacher/mom/wife with a newly-minted teenager exploring his angst and a feisty 3rd-grader running all over. But I have been checking in from time to time and read something truly heart-breaking.

Last week was Banned Book Week. Censorship is nothing new and some of you may already be familiar with Risha Mullins' plight, but I am still sickened that such a witch hunt can take place in modern America. I fear for our teachers who care about actually teaching our children and even more, about inspiring our children. I fear for the countless kids who could learn so much and discover a love for reading by participating in innovative programs like hers. I fear for the future of this country when small minds can level such ignorant accusations and cripple our schools and allow a fascist minority to dictate that No Child Left Behind actually means no child goes forward to discover the true meaning of critical thinking and growth because those are dangerous concepts.

Look at what a sharp, insightful, creative teacher can do and think about why our kids are in school. Despite the moral majority's opinion, they are not there to pass a test. They are there to learn and to grow. Education is not about dumping information into kids' heads and hoping they can regurgitate it on an endless bubble sheet. The word itself actually translates "to lead or draw out." It's about meeting them in their own space and helping them to explore their world and actually think about the connection between their own experience and all the world has to offer. YA literature is an excellent place to share common experience and expand it to the uncommon. It challenges kids to think about what they know and what could or could not be.

Do we really serve our kids by hiding the truth of human experience from them unless it fits neatly into our own little bubble of the unreal or chronologically irrelevant? Yes, they read MacBeth and A Tale of Two Cities and Night and see some harsh truths about the human condition, but what about Speak and Soul Enchilada and Twenty Boy Summer and The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian? While the classics may be great and important literature that will surely live on in English class, AP reading lists, and college courses, can't we make room for the YA experience as well? If we have nothing to turn our kids on to reading, will they ever even open those so-called classics?

I won't go on and on about this because Risha's case sums it up so well, but I challenge those who would keep books from our students to spend a day or even an hour in the poorest neighborhood in town or walk with a girl on her way to planned parenthood or stand for even a minute in the shoes of a teenager wrestling with the truth of his/her sexual orientation. Tell me what your experience is in that case. I know it's not only the white middle class conservatives lodging complaints. Any closed-minded group can curry oppression. I once had an African American parent complain about the film The Power of One because it showed the abominable treatment of a black South African. Never mind that the film actually abhors the injustice Apartheid perpetuated and celebrates the power of even one small voice to make a difference. This parent couldn't be bothered to actually watch the movie or consider the power of its message for her child. We certainly could not have read the book, because most of the kids in this class could hardly put a subject with a verb because they had skipped through school all these years without reading anything but the inside cover Cliffnotes.

I wonder if all the kids who read The Crucible in their high school English class have any idea that they are bubbling and burning in a crucible of their own...

Check out these links:

The Kids' Right to Read Project
The Book Smugglers
Controversial & Banned Books

Word by Word

2010-09-14T15:07:00.000-04:00

That's how it will begin...and that's how it will end. Yes, my newest is WIP is officially underway and promises to be even more exciting than the last, though this one has had a tougher launch. Lots of distraction and a little obsession have de-railed my initial plan to blaze on through this one and have a smoking hot YA thriller to send out the door before Christmas. Ha! I can hope...

Summer, car trouble, family entailments, new job—yeah, I can blame a lot of things. I think the most devastating obstacle, however, has been my own ego. Yep. I've been obsessing over my many writing buds who are making their sales and celebrating big deals, while I feel like a failure and put one on the shelf to rest a while and start anew.

Oh, I will still poke my head into this pity party every now and then, but enough is enough. My WIP will never get written if I don't start laying down some words, even crappy words. Besides, my last book is not a failure...it's just delayed. So, off I go to write a slamming new YA and frankly, it will be awesome. So to give myself a little kick in the butt, I thought perhaps I might post my word count on my blog. I know, I know. I could be setting myself up for utter humiliation, but I need to start somewhere. So, I start at this moment with a total of 2,775 words. I have a few more to add today, but that's where I ended up at 3:00pm.

And that's how I will take this next part of the journey—word by word...

2010-09-08T14:38:00.000-04:00

Before I started writing semi-full-time, I taught full time. Believe me, there are very few teaching jobs that are "fluff" jobs, but lately there has been a lot of debate about the fate of tenure in American universities. A recent essay by Christopher Shea in the New York Times Sunday Book Review addresses two books that tackle the question — Higher Education? How Colleges Are Wasting Our Money and Failing Our Kids — And What We Can Do About It, by Andrew Hacker and Claudia C. Dreifus, and Crisis on Campus: A Bold Plan for Reforming Our Colleges and Universities, by Mark C. Taylor. Earlier in July, the NYT also posted a debate that considers the ramifications of eliminating tenure and restructure higher education altogether, a thought that makes me cringe, though I am no blind disciple of the system as it is.

I'm not going to rant and rave about why tenure should be protected or why colleges should cutout the bulk of administrative fat that clogs the financial and social arteries of most institutions of higher learning. However, I find it funny that so many people seem to think the majority of tenured college professors are self-indulgent fusspots who rest on their laurels and do little teaching and spend their time spouting communist propaganda and cranking out fluff scholarship and books that no one reads while the adjuncts do all the heavy lifting with no benefits or job security. Come on folks! For every job in America, from sanitation to corporations, you will find that guy.

As an English teacher, I constantly warn my students against laying out sweeping generalizations to prove a point. It undermines your credibility and obscures the real issue. Yes, such examples of vocational gluttony do exist, and I'm sure those professors feel they are entitled because of their own years of slave-labor and hard-won scholarly credentials. But most of the tenured professors I know do teach full loads AND work on research or scholarship or service projects. Their extra-curricular work makes considerable contributions to their students as well as their field of study and their campus community.

As for who gets the money...few college professors I know make more than $50,000-80,000 a year, while college administrators and athletic personnel go well into 6-digit salaries. And that's where Shea gets it right:

And if colleges are ever going to bend the cost curve, to borrow jargon from the health care debate, it might well be time to think about vetoing Olympic-quality athletic facilities and trimming the ranks of administrators.

I know that from city school districts to small colleges to major universities, administrations are far too often top-heavy and the distributions of funds less than equitable or reasonable.

When it comes to tenure, let me say this. In a profession where speaking your mind is one of the most essential tools in your belt, as well as the most dangerous, and where your "superiors" can wield an Orwellian power that could extinguish a brilliant mind just for having an opinion if there were no protections against such dictatorial rule, tenure is merely a safety net that allows a professor an iota of freedom to do his job well. Without it, education would cease to exist and indoctrination would takes its place. Yes, that may be a little over-dramatic, but think about what a professor's job is all about.

Now consider the ever-growing complexities of the university system as a whole and the competitive playing field that now encompasses web presence, commercial appeal, financial growth, and social credibility in addition to its altruistic roots of education.

Every college or university has its own agenda...it's own "mission." For some, research is their claim to fame, while others subsist quietly on the satisfaction of educating eager minds no matter what their next step may be. So while I sit up and wait for my tenure-track professor husband as he sweats out the next book or the next service project or the next committee meeting along with preparing inspiring class lectures and activities and grading essays and advising students, I'll think about how "overpaid" he is. Next time I take my calculator to the grocery store and put back six items because they just aren't in the budget, I think about how "overpaid" he is. And next time I try to plan that family vacation that we have never taken in 15 years...I'll think about how overpaid he is.

At least he has job security...

I'll have a plate of Hypocrisy and a side of Stupidity, please...

2010-09-07T11:07:00.001-04:00

I don't like to talk politics, especially on a blog, but when some ignorant group of fascists declares a "national burn the Koran day," I simply cannot hold my tongue. Yes, that idiot pastor Terry Jones appeared on a recent episode of HARDBALL with Chris Matthews as well as CNN to proclaim 9/11 as a demonstration against Islam. Sure, he says "Muslims are free to worship here, but they must respect the constitution...that's why we have declared 9/11 national burn the Koran day." Really? Are you kidding me? How can he not see the hypocrisy in that statement?

What gets me about these fundamentalists is their complete tunnel vision and lack of self-reflection. Shall we say that Jim Jones represented all Christians? How about the Ku Klux Klan? Or even Timothy McVeigh?

Mr. Jones calls for "radical times" and all but incites violence against Muslims. Interviewer Rick Sanchez called him to task, saying he does a disservice to Christians. Amen. What astonishes me even more is the fact that this guy actually has followers who take him seriously. This is how Hitler got his start, isn't it?

Running Towards Nirvana

2010-08-15T12:51:00.000-04:00

You hear it all the time: "Writing and publishing a book is a marathon not a sprint." What I would like to know is...Is this a 5k, a 10k, or a 20k run? I don't want to be a nattering nabob, but I feel as though I've hit that wall more than once, and I'm wondering if I have that second wind that everyone talks about. Don't get me wrong. I have plenty of stories in me, plenty of spooky atmosphere waiting to splash all over my laptop. And I know I can write a kick-ass book. But right now I have some serious writer's cramp.

When do you break through the wall of pain and find that writer's nirvana?

I promised myself, and the Madwoman, that I would write everyday in August. Sorry folks...I stumbled. It must be faulty running shoes! To be fair, I did take my son on a 4-day junket to meet his best friend in North Carolina. Totally worth it and can't wait to do it again next year. And when I returned, I had the whole college course to design in a week and a half. So in some ways I was writing, just not writing.

I'm hoping that tightening my schedule with these 2 classes will actually help me sharpen my focus and slam this new WIP. Is it possible? Will splitting my concentration guide me to that Zen awareness of my inner voices? (believe me, there are more than one!) Is distraction the key to razor sharp focus? Obiwan, where are you when I need you?

I suppose I can blame summer and the scorching Georgia heat as I gasp for breath and reach for the inhaler.

But I do remember it...that rush when I get totally lost in a scene I've just written. That adrenaline overload when I've just written the last page and I can't sit still and have to walk it off until my breathing settles back into its normal rhythm. How many miles until I know that again?

Maybe I forgot to stretch before this leg of the race. Perhaps my running shoes need a re-tread. Or maybe I just need to crank up the iPod. Somewhere down this road, the endorphins will kick in. Right? I guess I can't know unless I keep running...and writing. And frankly, at this point I don't know how to stop.

Cries from a Cultural Wasteland

2010-07-27T13:27:00.000-04:00

Huddled at my tiny round table in a dim corner of the coffee house, sipping my caramel milk tea (non-dairy of course), I grasp at the few shadows of civilized life and dream of flesh-and-blood writer contact. Yes, after a quick search on the SCBWI roster, I found exactly one (1) writer who lives within a 20-mile radius of this little cesspool. Surely there are a few more out there, hiding among the palmetto bugs (aka giant cockroaches), lizards, and title pawn shops.

Two years ago, when we first knew a move was in the offing, I dared to think of it as a new adventure, a chance to stretch a little more and maybe even afford a little more house or settle near the ocean. If truth be told, I got my wish, though not exactly the way I had envisioned it. It certainly has been an adventure...something like those pioneer stories we read in grade school. No, there are no savage indians or blood-thirsty bandits threatening our wagon train, but to put it bluntly, we have rolled into a fearsome wilderness. A vast cultural wasteland where the nearest thing to civilization (besides the college) is a Books-a-Million in the mall and this little slice of heaven called Elements. What's a writer to do?

Observe. Listen. Sketch. That's it. I'm soaking in the atmosphere and the characters and the cadence of life down here in the South. Spanish moss dripping from the trees, pine straw swaddling the shrubs and flowers that decorate even the mienest of bungalows, ladies in brimmed hats sipping sweet tee while they swat away a hoard of psychotic gnats. And the festivals...yes, festivals of all kinds—The Peanut Festival, The Gnat Festival, the Fleagrass Festival, The Mayhaw Festival, The Dogwood Festival, The Rattlesnake Roundup. You get the idea. I love festivals! But you have to admit, they do things a little differently in the deep South. That can be a real boon for a writer. Right?

Three hours away, Atlanta offers a more cultured escape. But in this economy, even a quick jaunt up to civilization is a rare treat. So, I'm putting it out there: a call to writers—kidlit/YA people in particular, who live anywhere near Albany, Georgia—support group for lonely, deprived writers who need a little encouragement and a dose of literary conversation. I have posted a note on SCBWI and on the Blue Boards, but so far I've discovered that the SW Georgia is not exactly a mecca for artistic personalities. I'm not a big one for critique groups, so I'm not focusing on that aspect of things. This is truly meant to be a hopeful gathering of writers to share experiences, vent frustrations, and perhaps share a little low-pressure critique from time to time. Maybe I'll make a silk purse from a sow's ear after all...or maybe I'll just press on into the wilderness.

For now, I'll go back to my luscious caramel milk tea in my dark little corner of the coffee house and wait for that familiar whinny that announces new mail.

To Answer the MFA Question

2010-07-14T14:43:00.003-04:00

I just had to add this little nugget from Kurt Vonnegut:

Beware of the man who works hard to learn something, learns it, and finds himself no wiser than before... He is full of murderous resentment of people who are ignorant without having come by their ignorance the hard way.

Thanks to everyone who offered some advice on this topic. Several people said the MFA pursuit transformed their writing lives, while others offered more practical comments, especially when it comes to the financial burden that comes with such a choice. I think the very best advice I got came down to a very simple but essential issue: Be very clear about what you are hoping to get out of the experience. (Thanks, Laura).

My uber-awesome agent, Elana Roth, has me dialed in to a tee; it's not about giving myself a leg up towards publishing. I know I have what it takes, and I have exactly the right representation on my side. But I am totally an information junkie. I'm addicted to knowledge and love the whole school experience, as grueling as it can be. Usually.

However, I am in a very different place in my life, now, and I have a lot of other things to consider. Kids. Husband. All the complexities of mid-life angst. So is the MFA really the best thing for me at this particular moment? Probably not. Are there compelling reasons that could supersede the more practical considerations against going for the MFA? Definitely. But they are not compelling enough right now. And to come back to that most salient point, what I am hoping to get out of it, I may already have. Sorry I can't be more specific than that, but suffice it to say the point is as much emotional as intellectual.

Add to the mix a newly-procured adjunct position at the local college and you have the final answer: No. It's not time to take that particular leap. Maybe some day. So while I let that simmer in the back of my brain for a while, I will bust through this current WIP and kick some YA butt.

A Fun Contest

2010-07-10T15:20:00.000-04:00

To celebrate the fabulous news that her book, MY UN-FAIRY TALE LIFE sold to Sourcebooks Jabberwocky, Anna Staniszewski is having a fun contest on her blog. Head on over there to win a copy of either THE TRUE MEANING OF SMEK DAY by Adam Rex or WHALES ON STILTS by M.T. Anderson.

And stay tuned for my follow-up to the big MFA question...

To MFA or Not to MFA?

2010-07-06T17:39:00.000-04:00

As if I don't have enough on my plate, I am tossing around the idea of going for a low residency MFA. Why? Perhaps because it's there. Or maybe because it would give me a more solid credential for teaching at the college. Or maybe because I'm itching for another way to hone the craft. Of course if you read The New Yorker's article Show or Tell, you might come to the conclusion that it's all just another way for universities to make money while pampering egos and proffering false hopes. Sure, Louis Menand tips his hat to some of the benefits of such programs, but overall, you come away feeling a tiny bit idiotic for even thinking of doing a degree in creative writing. Nonetheless, learning is learning and what you do with it is up to you.

So that doesn't help so much. Perhaps a list of pros and cons would shed a little more light.

PROS:

I love going to school. (cue the nerd music)
I would have another reason to throw myself into my writing.
I would have a chance to work with some of the people who inspire me. (of course I can get some of that at conferences and Highlights Foundation Workshops, too)
I would have a piece of paper that says I can write. (just a little chuckle on this one)
I could add MFA to my vitae and pump up my credentials

CONS:

Money. The biggest drawback is spending more money that we don't have. I can apply for scholarships, but that's no guarantee that I will get one. And do I really need more student loans?
Time. I am in command of my time, more or less, right now, but will a Low Res program be flexible enough for me and my family?
Are there enough benefits or potential benefits to even consider sinking the time and money into an MFA?

While I mull all that over, I'll look at what's out there. I found a fabulous website posted by Anna from Bryn Mawr that gives a good overview of what to look for and then provides listings for programs according to regions. Another Blog that offers information and general commentary on Creative Writing programs is the MFA Weblog. NewPages.com also offers a list of universities and colleges who offer MFA programs—some low residency and some full residency. Byzantine Roads is yet another cite that lists a number of MFA in Creative Writing options.

So with all of this information, do I really want to pursue another degree? I have one half-finished Ph.d. that will go nowhere. Would and MFA really offer me anything I truly need? Of course the other option would be to look into a Library Science degree. I'm just saying...

Frailty

2010-06-29T15:42:00.000-04:00

I was at my RA doctor for a routine appointment today, and she mentioned that my recent x-rays show signs of osteoporosis. Gulp. She said it's not a surprise since I'm "caucasian, pettite, and frail..." Hang on! Did she just use that word to describe ME? FRAIL? I was that skinny little girl who played football with the boys and got called for rough play. I was the only chick on the baseball team and I kicked ass. I've wrangled spastic horses through the hunt field and slightly crazy kids in the classroom and at home. I've travelled the world. I've never backed away from a challenge. What's she talking about frail?!

My mind sort of went white and silent all of a sudden as I considered this description. Okay, so I was ever so lucky to develop Rheumatoid Arthritis when I was 34. Does that mean I'm frail? Somehow less than that balls-out chick who jumped from balconies and dirt-skiied down the dusty ravine beside my house when I was a kid? There is a huge dissonance between the person I feel in my bones and the one this doctor was looking at. But I guess what really bothered me was the dubious assumption that physical and mental weakness were not necessarily mutually exclusive. (Don't ask me why I jumped there.)

Then I started thinking about my characters and how they develop. Have I let some frailty slip by me when I wasn't looking? Do they ever feel the way I did at that moment? Probably. Should I allow them to feel that way? Maybe.

One of the big issues I tackle with my new characters is their flaws. What does that really mean? I look at it as more of a blind spot in most cases—that part of their personality that gets them into trouble. But what if it's something that keeps them from achieving their goal? They could be one in the same, but not always. Good character development is complex and lets the reader squirm a little. We cringe when they say the wrong thing, but that only makes them more real to us. We slap ourselves in the head when they make some bonehead move that puts them in danger or alienates them from the other characters, but that only elevates the sense of triumph when they succeed or deepens the mourning when they fail.

I've spent most of my life hearing about and facing my flaws. Let's just say I've had a lot of practice. But what does that really mean? Is there some continuum where the degree and number of flaws a person has add up to frailty? Somewhere in that doctor's office I started to think so. I thought about it as I drove home. I thought about it as I slammed the car door shut. I thought about it as I prepared to take my child to the orthodontist to have her skull expanded so all of her teeth would fit. I'm not sure I really have an answer, but in the end it seems to come down to that dirty little literary notion of the human condition. In the grand scheme of things, I suppose we are all frail...small and frail and oh so significant.

W.B. Yeats wrote a lot about human frailty... (please pardon my maudlin indulgence).

The Four Ages of Man

He with body waged a fight,
But body won; it walks upright.

Then he struggled with the heart;
Innocence and peace depart.

Then he struggled with the mind;
His proud heart he left behind.

Now his wars on God begin;
At stroke of midnight, God shall win.

Toy Story 3 and why I bawled my eyes out...

2010-06-21T13:13:00.000-04:00

For Father's Day, we decided to take a family excursion to the event that is TOY STORY 3. My expectations were only slightly guarded as Pixar has more than delivered on this franchise twice already. What I hadn't braced myself for, however, was my own parental journey as I sat there with my 13-year-old son and 9-year-old daughter and watched Andy say goodbye to his beloved pals as we, too, said goodbye not only to these wonderful characters, but to our own sense of childhood while our role as parents becomes ever more tenuous. This parting is particularly poignant when it comes to our son who has grown up far too quickly along with Andy.

The first TOY STORY came out in 1995, just 2 years before my son was born. Of course Ghost Hunk and I saw it in the theatre, young newlyweds who enjoyed good film making. Heck, one of our early dates was to see BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. When our son was 2 years old, we introduced him to the magical world of movies, beginning with TARZAN and THE IRON GIANT and TOY STORY 2. That boy was made for the cinema. He loved sitting in a theatre with Mama and/or Daddy, drinking in whatever amazing story spilled across the darkness. We all cried when the Iron Giant sacrificed himself and when Jessie's torch song pulled us into her heartache and loss. Sure, Ghost Son saw the first one on video before we hit the theatre for the sequel, but it was no less enthralling and he immediately loved all the characters, old and new.

As I watched Andy pack for college yesterday, it suddenly struck me that our own little dude is only 5 years away from that. There is really nothing left of that baby, anymore, that fantastic toddler whose belly laughs filled up the house and shook us all with such joy. I know...this may get a little maudlin, but I'm a mom. I can't help myself. (By the way, the same actor has given Andy his voice in all three movies.)

I felt him sitting there next to me in the dark, growing, maturing every minute. And it didn't help that Andy is a lot like our boy. I'm sure he's a lot like many boys, but I'll continue to believe our son is exceptional, unique, amazing.When Andy makes his decision to give his toys to a little girl who will love them well, I had mixed feelings. Happy that the gang will continue to be loved and treasured, but sad that Andy will forever be separated from them. That he has grown up. His own hesitation is so telling. As he played with his friends one last time, introducing them to their new owner and making sure their stories continue, my heart ached. The realization that our son would be leaving, growing up, abandoning his childhood things, well that started a flood. Yes, I cried. I sobbed. I bawled my freaking eyes out!

Ghost Son thought I was being a little too sensitive about Andy's toys, but then he, too, realized that he was growing up and what that meant to his loony old mom. That's the thing about all three of these movies. They touch real emotions. No matter how old you are, you can relate to the trials of Woody, Buzz, Jessie, and the gang. We know what it is to be betrayed that first time, to be abandoned by someone moving on to another stage of their life, to learn the price of friendship and how to have a little more faith in ourselves. These are such raw, real experiences no matter how old you get.

And now, I've watched my children trip through these quintessential life moments and TOY STORY 3 just brought all of it home with a 1-2 punch to the gut. They are growing up. They will be on their own sooner than we want, but they are ready to take on the world. I just wish I were ready to let them...

In the Flesh

2010-06-08T20:36:00.001-04:00

At least once in a writer's career, she will hear someone say, "Flesh out that character more." I chant that in my head sometimes as I work on more personal sections of my book. But what does that mean? How do you put flesh on the bones of an imaginary friend (or enemy)?

There are some great tools out there to give you a nudge: Nancy Lamb has some great checklists in her book, THE WRITER'S GUIDE TO CRAFTING STORIES FOR CHILDREN. You generate a lot of details (that you may or may not use in the actual narrative) that get you to see the character as a whole.

I'm also glancing through Orson Scott Card's ELEMENTS OF FICTION: CHARACTERS & VIEWPOINTS for a few hints. He takes you through some great discussions of motivation, emotional appeal, archetypes, and more.

But sometimes all this studying can get a bit overwhelming (not that I've done a lot of it). In the end, I have to do the work. Get down in the clay and start molding and sculpting with my own two hands. The dirtier I get the better.

So for my latest WIP, I took my 4 main characters (including the narrator) and gave them each their own page. I started with a GENERAL DESCRIPTION. This can include physical and emotional, but I keep it simple and straight-forward. The hard-core stuff comes in the writing. In this section I also include and habits or ticks or preferences she/he might have—ie. trips over her own feet, hates to clean the chicken coop but loves to muck the stalls, wears a red string on her left pinky toe every day, etc. What pushes your character's buttons?

Next I look at RELATIONSHIPS. What characterizes her relationship with each major character in the book? If it's relevant, what characterizes her relationship with people not present in the narrative? Dead or absent parents, friends, or relatives, for example. Characters don't live in a vacuum any more than a living, breathing person does...unless you have an agoraphobic personality! Thinking ahead, I consider how those relationships will change through the course of the novel. Think dynamic not static.

It's time to look at some FLAWS. Every character has to have them. Big or small, a flaw is what makes your character human. Whether you write humorous MG or tragic YA, your characters cannot be perfect. They may even piss the reader off once in a while, just as long as there is enough redeeming virtue to keep the reader connected and rooting for your hero. These may come in handy when you build the climax and develop subplots.

Don't forget your villains. Villains should evoke anger, disdain, even condescension but they should not be flat. Take them through all the steps as well. We need to have a sense that there is more to them than their slithery betrayal.

I'm keeping it short, so I end with a list of WORDS THAT DESCRIBE my character. Gut reaction words. You may find that some of them contradict each other, and that is not necessarily a problem. After all, most of us get confused at some time or another, especially kids. Come to think of it, adolescence is a cloud of contradictions!

That's the basic list I make for myself, and I post them on the wall by my desk or keep them in my WIP folder, along with a list of themes, snippets of research, and any other scrap of inspiration that will put a little flesh on the bones and breathe life into this shiny new world.

What do you do?

Just for the Ghosts...

2010-06-04T14:16:00.000-04:00

I've started a new blog dedicated to all my ghostly wonderings...and wanderings... I'll still post my usual (albeit sporadic) musings on writing and life here, but I'm dedicating The Darkling Veil to my spookier explorations. Stop by if you have a chance.

Workshopping Your Villain

2010-05-30T11:31:00.000-04:00

Ah! Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal...

A couple of weeks ago, I relieved a very grateful substitute teacher in my son's 7th-grade Language Arts class by giving a brief workshop on creating a compelling description of a villain in their writing. I started by reading the first 2 pages of Neil Gaiman's brilliant Newbery-winning THE GRAVEYARD BOOK. They were hooked!

Of course they would have been happy to listen to the book for the next hour, but being the evil English teacher I am, I made them write. As usual, a few kids attacked it with gusto, while some looked around the room and hoped someone would give them the "right" answer, and a couple just put up their while and tried to shut off their brains. But something about that knife pulling us into Bod's world kept calling to all of them and they couldn't follow until they offered a little blood sacrifice of their own.

Their altar: a sheet of paper scrawled with some boxes, grid lines, and a few words. Yes, they actually had to do something other than watch the abandoned lessons on the wipe board fade into oblivion.

My goal for this little exercise was to get the kids thinking about a character in some way other then what's his name, does he have black hair and nasty teeth, what is he doing? We need to feel his presence. And how do we do that? With all of our senses.

First, I pointed out that our first glimpse of the man Jack is not the man at all, but his knife as it skulks through the house snatching lives. That knife tells us much about the villain. It distances him at the same time it draws us closer to him, to the action. How cool is that?!

So when it came to thinking about a dark character, I asked the kids to NOT think about a character, but first to think of 3 things that scare them, really scare them. I called those The Seed. Of course you had the obligatory "Zombies!" "Girls!" "My mom's cooking!" responses, but many of them chimed in with honest answers that you could see on their faces as they wrote "spiders," "darkness," "being alone," or "lightening" down on their papers.

Next we kicked up a little Dust and wrote down 3 words that are creepy. "Looming" popped up on one list. Throw in a little "bloody," "creaking," "stalking"... you get the idea. Most of the kids did too.

Next we filled up our senses and actually started to think in terms of a person. But not quite so straight-forward as that: If your villain were a smell, what would he be? What kind of weather would he be? What would he taste like? What texture would he be? What sound would he be? Don't use the word "like" — just let him BE those things. One fabulous kid says, "I know what this is...we're making metaphors, right?" Pat that boy on the head!

Okay boys and girls, now we are almost ready to meet the dastardly dude. Let's get more literal. Think about those little details: Describe your villain's walk; his handshake; his voice; his mouth; his nose; one other attribute of your choice.

And we have arrived. Let's meet your villain. (Cue the "you're going to write a theme" moan—although I am thrilled to say not many kids moaned.) In fact a few were bummed out that the period was almost over. So while they stewed on the prewriting they did, I read a few more pages of the book. Holy Creepy Zombies, bat folks! All that crazy stuff we just did actually makes sense! Yep, they could trace their prewriting steps right through the murder of three people before the bell rang. What fun!!
I don't think I embarrassed Ghost Son too badly, and believe it or not, the substitute teacher joined in the fun and did the whole thing with us. My main goal was to push them beyond the flat cliché and into something more complex, something more tangible.

Now I'm sure they all ran home and wrote that opening paragraph that introduces their villain...right?

2010-05-13T12:13:00.000-04:00

My apologies for the stagnate blog of late. (Especially for freezing things on a rant.) After almost 6 weeks, I think I may actually have things back on track.

Chaos—yes, you have to love it. Afterall, it inspired some of the greatest innovations, like PB & J and the travel mug! The car is fixed (the damage didn't read as well on film as it did in person) after almost $2,000,

the move complete,

and the retreat a fond memory (a brilliant one actually, thanks to an amazing faculty!).

So just in time for summer vacation (cue the pitter-patter-slap of large, bare feet on the tile), I dive again into my WIP. My goal with this one is to pay close attention to character development as well as the plot. Sandy Asher's session on "Who's story is this?" was awesome, even though I missed most of it because I was running down chairs and power chords, etc. Management duties aside, the handouts and the info she shared will give any writer a great place to start dissecting character and really understand who is telling (and populating) your story.

So look for a post on character coming up. I've had plenty of inspiration lately...

My Chaos Theory

2010-03-28T19:47:00.000-04:00

Caution: the following post may lead to ridiculous conclusions or utter confusion. Read at your own peril.

There are a number of reasons why I have neglected this blog lately, but suffice it to say I am embracing the chaos once again. I nailed down another revision in January and continue to wait (not quite so patiently) for the next step. In the meantime, everything around me has exploded into a flurry of systematic change and if this doesn't kill me, nothing will...

Seriously, when you think about the idea of chaos, do you draw a positive or negative connotation? Apparently I tend to balance both. For the second year in a row, the major aspects of my life are colliding on one sad little weekend, and the run-up to that weekend could net one of an infinite number of possibilities. Okay, let's talk specifics. We are moving. Not across 5 states this time, just 8 miles away. But it's still a move. And wouldn't the fates decide to cut this thread right on the same weekend I am directing the SCBWI Pocono Mountain Retreat? To top it off, I was really hoping to have an exciting announcement this year, but again, the fates are toying with me. No book deal. Yet.

So here I am packing dishes and books and clothes and all those little bits of life I dared to unpack for the 12 months we rented this house. In the middle of the paper and boxes, I am tapping away online, juggling all those little details like menu, last minute registrations, emails, nametags, etc... Whew! Have I reached utter chaos yet? Well, if there is any doubt: We close on the new house April 5th, I leave for PA on April 7th and stay until the 11th, and we have to be out of the rental by the 12th. No pressure...

What about my writing? Well, I did manage to knock out a synopsis for the new book and send off my application for the SCBWI WIP grant, which will be announced in September (yes, more waiting).

Forgive me for rambling. I can't help but wonder what Chaos Theory would posit about the next change. Can I get my head screwed back on and write a kick-ass YA book? Where would this book be if we had never left PA? Or if we moved in December instead of now? Or if all I did was write?

If this writer's life isn't a dynamic system, then I don't know what is. What would a recurrence plot have to say about this particular moment in time? Or my ever-changing trajectory? I just hope I don't write any recurrent plots and spin my trajectory straight down the drain!

I guess it's just time to add this amazing experience to the million little fluffs and flutters that have led me here in the first place. My writing is the best it's ever been, and I hope it keeps evolving. Perhaps all this multi-tasking and change will spawn something brilliant, maybe even award-winning. But I have to say, I've hit one of those moments when I feel incredibly insecure. Change doesn't frighten me. In fact I generally welcome it as an exciting adventure. But the past two years certainly pass for more than just change...more like the BIG BANG!

So how do other writers handle the chaos behind them? Does it fuel their writing? Does it choke them with writer's block? Does it bounce off them like rubber bullets? For now, I think I'll just pray for a pair of wings...

Now what about libraries?

2010-02-11T15:28:00.000-05:00

Here we go kids. The great debate over the future of the traditional library vs. the digital library has taken off in the "pages" of the New York Times. Several interesting people weighing in on the topic. What do you think?

Does Nathan Bransford have clouds in his coffee too?

2010-02-09T16:13:00.000-05:00

Well, he does have another take on the subject of ebooks and the future of the physical book store. Check out his blog.

Clouds in my Coffee...

2010-02-07T13:46:00.001-05:00

Sing it, Carly —"You're so vain..."

The last few weeks have brought a hailstorm of controversy regarding ebooks and the future of traditional publishing, and more than a few writers, publishers, and agents weighed in with their take on the situation. And of course Steve Jobs had to add his inadvertent 2 cents by releasing a shiny new iPad stacked with a whole now ebook eden called the iBook Store. Worries about the whole digital takeover are nothing new, but they do seem to be gaining affirmation daily. We can talk about this as a revolution, an evolution, an opportunity, an awakening—whatever it takes to put a positive spin on things (not that a positive spin is wrong). But there are a host of old-timers who will cling to their paper-, cloth-, or leather-bound books until the cyber-police pry them from their cold, dead hands. But I'm not going to ask if the death knell for traditional books has been sounded. I'm not going to speculate on how long our dear pile of tangible pages has left in this world. It's all just a matter of time and technology anyway. No, what is pressing hard on my guts right now is more than books; it's the atmosphere, the community, the metaphysical vibe that sustains my cultural angst. That's right, I'm talking about the fate of the physical bookstore/café.

What's all the kerfuffle? I think Scott Westerfield offered a brilliant summary of the the whole Amazon/MacMillan clash in his blog. Frankly, I'm behind MacMillan on this one, and not just because I'm a writer. It's not about panic or unfair wages at the moment, it's about the future. And who isn't looking towards the future, especially now?

Which brings me to my main point: the future of my beloved local literary community, aka the bookstore. Anyone who knows me knows what a rough year 2009 was. You also know that I have moved to the "armpit of the South" where the word culture refers to that crust of black mold in your bathroom drain and nothing more. When I was in Pennsylvania, I relished my hours at my local Barnes & Nobles or Borders Book Store. These were meccas, holy places of meditation and inspiration, not to mention 15 million-calorie coffee drinks. Some days I would just go and peruse the shelves, whether I bought anything or not. Just being among books, surrounding by them, steeped in their hot-of-the-press scent somehow brought both a sense of peace and a powerful invigoration. I'd park myself on the floor next to the YA book stacks and pluck a few things off the shelf and pore over them for a couple of hours. Ahhhh...at least once in a while I can drive the hour and a half to Tallahassee to partake.

Often I would meet friends there where we would scour the "new in paperback" shelves or check out the latest toys for bibliophiles. We'd grab a cup of hot frothy liquid sin and gab about whatever topic floated up out of the stacks around us. Sometimes it was personal trials, sometimes it was questions about writing. The best part was the eavesdropping. Oh, admit it. Everybody does it. We'd catch a snippet of a conversation and couldn't help but get caught up in the topic ourselves. Or maybe it was research for my latest book. A character study, perhaps. There was plenty to grab hold of and love in that atmosphere.

The bookstore has always been a favorite date spot for me and Ghost Hunk as well. Sometimes we would get a babysitter and head out for dinner and a movie, but inevitably dinner would run too long and we would miss the early showing. If we had enough energy (and cash for the babysitter), we would just catch the later flick and spend the time in between at the bookstore. Sometimes, the bookstore WAS the date. We would wonder around together at first, sharing jacketflap blurbs and wishlists. Then we would wander off into our own favorite nooks and get lost for a while. Me in the YA section or the Paranormal stacks, Ghost hunk in the Graphic Novels or the Cultural Studies section. When one of us found something exciting or had a sudden breakthrough, we would weave in and out of the shelves and bewildered or bemused patrons until we found the other and share our epiphany. Ah...bonding over books. Now that's a date! I, more often than Ghost Hunk, would wonder around with an armful of books, vainly wishing I could buy them all, but one by one they found their place back on the shelf and the two of us would leave feeling wistful and refreshed.

My kids have been raised on four main literary food groups: Picture books, Middle Grade, YA, and of course...creative bookstore merchandise. I took them to story times where they cut their teeth on the likes of Eric Carle or Laura Numeroff or Sandra Boynton (those are the ragged, spit-covered copies stuffed in the back—just warning you). I've watched them graduate from mouthing chunky board books with their toothless little gums to recommending their favorite reads to hapless strangers in the book store as well as to their friends. They learned patience and reverence for literature. And we bonded, mother and child, teacher and student, philosopher and apprentice.

Yes, books are the key, but the house is where they live and where we thrive. While I, like so many others, am captivated by the iPad and it's shiny new iBook store, I am also aware that a new model for the literary world is on the horizon. And it is not necessarily a bad thing. It's just inevitable change. But is the romance of the book world, the sense of community, the awe-inspiring temple to ideas that is the physical book store on its way to extinction? I don't know. Perhaps the cyber café will take its place—vast palaces of caffeine and WiFi connections where people will gather and download ebooks. It just seems so antiseptic, so isolated. Will my tea and coffee taste the same in cyberspace?

A brave new world, indeed...

Revision Aftershock

2010-01-28T15:49:00.000-05:00

I've done it again. Another revision. This one I attacked, obsessed over, and made a burnt offering of my most precious 8 hours of sleep a night to. Okay, I can't put all of my insomnia off on the revision process, but it played its part. And now I'm left with the after effects of it all. I wonder how other writers feel after a revision—disappointed? invigorated? defeated? convinced they've just mastered a best-seller? Right now I just feel a little lost.

At first, I was completely psyched about what I had done, even if I managed to cut only 5,000 little darlings out my manuscript. So...my YA became a longish MG...that's okay, right? Uh-oh...now all those questions I thought I had slain have become little ghosts haunting me night and day. I can't help it. I have that perfectionist gene. You know, the one that forces you to retake the test in your mind 20 minutes after you finished it in real life. And you remember how you answered certain questions and are absolutely convinced that you did it wrong and completely screwed up the entire test, never mind the things you did right. I hate that feeling.

I do think the changes have made my book stronger. Yes, I do still love my book as always. But as I get ready to throw myself into the next exciting WIP (which will be completely awesome!), I'm finding it hard to let go of the last one. As I try to get inside the head of my new narrator, the last one is still tapping me on the shoulder and asking ME questions. Are you sure that's enough? Did you kill some of the good stuff? Am I still your favorite?

As far as that last question goes, one thing I have learned through all of my writing and revision is that I am still growing as a writer. And if that ever ceases, then I may as well pull the plug. So I've got to find a way to put that nagging little nabob in cold storage and clear my head for the next visitor. Perhaps an exorcism? Too extreme. Straight-jacket? Too literal. Hmmm...okay, there can be only one answer to this problem...HERSHEY SPECIAL DARK PIECES.

So off I go to grab a bag and then sit down with my new narrator and have a chat, while my agent entertains Mr. Nattering Nabob.

Do You Breathe Through Your Eyelids?

2010-01-09T14:48:00.001-05:00

Saturday—another day of un-writing my WIP, and I'm wondering, do I really want to hide in my office or do I need a change of scenery where people are chatting, coffee grinders grinding, steamers steaming, and whiny coffee house music trickling through the PA? For some reason that started a little dialogue in my head that ended with a very different question: Am I a Lava Lizard or a Hermit Crab?

If you're confused, maybe I should let you in on a little more of that conversation. It all comes down to the pros and cons of distraction, and yes, there are two sides to everything. If you're a fan of BULL DURHAM, you might remember the breathe-through-your-eyelids garter method. That wonderful exchange between Susan Sarrandon and Tim Robbins when she wants him to act like a Lava Lizard (from the Galapagos Islands). You know, the critter with the parietal eye that allows him to "sense" the things he can't see with his regular eyes. His pitching sucks because he can't get out of his head enough. He can only throw the ball, throw the ball, throw the ball...which hits everything (including the Bull mascot) but the strike zone. So Annie talks Nuke into wearing her garter belt to get him off center enough to let loose. He needs to be distracted a little to do his best work.

I know that some writers prefer to hide themselves away in their cave, with absolutely no noise, nothing to distract them, like a Hermit Crab tucked into his shell. Others thrive on a little distraction—music, television on in the background, people all around, like Lava Lizard working his parietal eye. I'm somewhere in the middle.

Back in the day when I first started to dedicate myself to writing, my space was a corner in the kids' playroom. Nap times were fringe times when I got the most work done. Eventually, however, nap time was out the window and I had to leave the house just to get out of reach of all the "Mama, Mama, Mama" distractions and focus on my writing. Armed with earphones and my laptop, I quickly learned how to tune out the café noise and write. Now that I have my own space, I find that it really depends on my mood. Bad television in the background can work, but so can fabulous play lists that echo the tone of my WIP. I have to say, though, quiet time is still the best at home. But, there is something about the white noise of a public place that forces me to draw from a deeper place. So being a Lava Lizard once in while really rocks. The rose goes in the front, big guy.

So what about other writers out there? How do you work best—Lava Lizard or a Hermit Crab? Take the poll at the right or leave a comment...or do both!

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly of 2009

2009-12-31T14:38:00.000-05:00

Woosh! There it goes. Another year full of spastic hopes and kids that are growing just too darn fast. Yes, the ghost children have probably gained a collective 12 inches in height over the last 12 months, though it came in bursts. Adolescence has set in on one side and pre-adolescence is in full swing on the other. But how have I grown this year? If adversity is any indication, I should be a giant any minute, now.

Let's start with the bad:

Couldn't sell house for what it was worth and it took far too long.
Spent August 2008 - April 2009 apart from Ghost Hunk.
Moved away from a home I loved to a cultural desert
Still no book contract
Best friend's mom died
My Mom died
We won't even talk about the Estate...

What about the ugly:

Lost a lot of furniture in the move, (which was 2 days of driving in the pounding rain)
Caught a horrible respiratory infection while running the Pocono Retreat
Dealt with horrid relatives at the funeral and beyond
Had some wicked RA flares
Came home from Indiana with the freakin' Swine Flu
Discovered my YA is really a better MG...not sure how to feel about that one.

Okay, let's have some GOOD stuff:

Sold the house and reunited with Ghost Hunk
Stayed with a wonderful writer, Joyce Moyer Hostetter, on our way to GA
Had a FABULOUS Pocono Mountain Retreat
Met even more awesome kidlit writers
Put some kick-ass revision on my YA-turned-MG with my awesome agent
Watched both ghost kids blossom in their new school
Saw Ghost Hunk's book come out in paperback
Got my own writing office (finally!)
Learned to play golf again, and love sneaking out to the course with Ghost Hunk while the kids are at school.
Got my first article in print in the Nov/Dec Cricket Magazine
I'm still writing...

So now it's on to 2010. Predictions? Okay, let's play:

My stunningly spooky MG will be sold before March
I'll finish my brilliantly creepy and exciting YA (which will be genuinely YA)
We'll find a wonderful place to live that will still have a writing office for me.
We'll have another amazing Pocono Mountain Retreat
My kids will grow and flourish
Ghost Hunk will do brilliant work at ASU
Dear friends will never be far from my heart
And Danté the dog will learn to quit tugging at my clothes.

Wishing all the best to everyone out there, and thanks for following my rambling little blog. A new website and blog is in the works for 2010 as well. I hope to see you all there.

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-24T08:37:00.001-05:00

Happy Holidays, and may 2010 be full of shiny book contracts, glowing reviews, and the next bestseller in progress...

Are We There Yet?

2009-12-16T13:32:00.002-05:00

It looks as though I'm in for another round of revision. At first the rejection news is disheartening, frustrating, and reason enough to down a vat of raw cookie dough. But when the dust settles, I think a little harder on the suggestions so kindly offered by the rejecting editors and slip them into three neat categories:

1. Matters of Personal Taste— You just can't win these battles. And they are not necessarily wrong or twisted or evil. They are simply opinions. So I file these away in the "Ah, that's what this editor likes/doesn't like" file.

2. Repeat Offenders — These are those annoying little points the seem to crop up in several rejection letters so you can't ignore them. Now these can fall into 2 sub-categories: things I can fix and things I don't want to fix because they have little or nothing to do with my goals for this book.

Things I can fix: These will not change the story. They are little quirks in my writing or basic structural or characterization issues that require more tweaking than full-on re-writing. Quirks can be good, but sometimes they are distracting, so I weigh the comments and decide how to proceed.
Things I don't want to fix: These are things that involve completely altering the direction of the book or trying to make it something it will never be. Sorry guys, but I won't add sex or romance or addiction just to spice things up or appeal to a broader market. Uh-uh.

3. The Identity Crisis — Where does my book really belong? I have a great story, but the how of it might fit better into MG than YA. What? But I always thought of myself as a YA writer! Yep...I'm a straddler. Much about the story is YA, or at least it would have been in another time. But the modern YA reader comes from a very different place than many of us did at that age. Add in the historical element and you complicate the issue even further. How do I keep it authentic but still appeal to a modern teenage sensibility without completely re-writing the book? That's the tough point. It's a question that I have to ask myself. And because I am a writer, I will ask it.

But how do I overcome this breathless sense of failure? I revise my vision of success. I want to write the best story I can write and I want kids to read it and enjoy it. That part hasn't changed. Refocusing this piece won't change that either. I'm just starting this part of my career in a slightly different place than I thought.

So here I stand contemplating yet another revision. Thanks to my dear BB buddy Mindy for talking me off the ledge and to my fabulous agent for hashing over all of it and coming up with a good plan for the next round. And as Ernest Hemingway once said:

Optimism can keep a fool from accepting failure.

I guess I'll just be a happy fool and dive right back into what will surely be an awesome MG book.

Agent Appreciation Day

2009-12-11T10:06:00.001-05:00

Skimming through the Blue Boards this morning, as is my usual a.m. habit, I came across a post entitled "Agent Appreciation Day," complete with a link to a lovely blog by Lisa and Laura Roecker. In their latest post, they pay tribute to Catherine Drayton and encourage everyone to take a minute to celebrate their agents today. Thank you Kody Keplinger for getting the ball rolling.

Well, it's the first day of Chanukah (or Hanukkah), so it seems as fitting a time as any to pay tribute to my beloved agent, Elana Roth. Okay, so my name may not ring any significant bells on anyone's list of authors, yet, but I have no doubt that Elana is the one who is going to help me change that. To follow suit, I guess I'll list three reasons why I love my agent.

1. She got me from the get-go. When we spoke the first time about my book and our vision for it, we were definitely on the same page (pardon the pun). She asked about my process and told me what she liked about my manuscript. When I asked what kind of revisions she thought would make it stronger, she was dead-on straight with the spirit of the book. She wasn't interested in stripping the guts out of it and creating something completely different (and believe me, some would). Her strategy was all about enhancing the story, not changing it.

2. She puts it all out there. From pre-selling an idea to editors, to knowing when to put out an idea and then leave you to it, to helping authors develop their promotional presence, she's all about working it. She's got the whole submission gig down and makes it so much easier for me to obsess about who's reading it, who's going to say yes, when are they going to SAY YES!!!?

3. Twitter love! I can't help it. I always get at least one solid laugh or "uhuh, I know what ya mean" as I pop on twitter and see Elana's journey through the query pile or her latest jaunt through NYC (I miss you, East Coast), or the glory days of teaching Hebrew School.

So, as I await that fabulous first book contract (any day now...), I do appreciate you, dear agent. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for always sharing the positive even when it comes nestled in rejection. We've both had a wild ride through this last year (outside of our literary lives) and I hope the tracks are a little straighter from here on out. But then again, where would the fun be without a few mind-numbing challenges?

One more thing... HAPPY CHANUKAH!

Too Much Information

2009-12-06T10:08:00.001-05:00

Most kids in the throes of puberty will tell you that adolescence is hell, but more importantly, their personal hell is much worse than any other in the history of the world. I come from a generation whose parents walked 5 miles up hill in a snowstorm to school everyday and heard the words, "you have it so easy" almost every day of my teen years. Yes, and my grandfather had to work to support his family when he was 14 years old while at that age I was only babysitting for pocket money. I hate to burst my parents' bubble of martyrdom, but the stories of the modern teen experience I could share from my teaching days would easily curl even their hair, no doubt—kids with addict parents, abused kids, kids with no parents or guardians to advocate for, love, or support them. There is plenty of hardship to go around.

But what about the average kid's experience? To sum it up, too much information. Texting, sexting, Facebook, LiveJournal, IM. No longer is the honor of torturing a kid at school reserved for the odd note passed in study hall or taunts in the hallway or bullying at the bus stop. Now they have 20 techno ways to exploit even the tiniest error in judgement wrought by raging hormones. We've heard the stories of distraught teens hurting themselves because of something that is going around on FB about them or an incriminating photo snapped with a cell phone and launched into cyberspace by some petty kid to grace a thousand LED screens and invite even more denigration.

For most of us, the hardest and most haunting remnant of adolescence is also the most eternal lesson: we are the choices we make, for good or ill. But we don't really get the until we are old farts. So teenagers should be allowed to screw up and face humiliation as we all did. BUT, it's just not that simple these days. Every mistake a kid makes could be broadcasted to the entire school with the touch of a button. And it often is. That's a lot to take when you are still just trying to figure out who you are. Why do you need 30 text messages to remind you about the dumb remark you make in front of the hottest guy in school. A mild example, but a blow to self-esteem nonetheless. Let's try another. Back in the day, if you succumbed to pressure and took off you clothes for your boyfriend, people may have heard about it, but now they can see it in living color if you were naive enough to believe the cell phone photo you snapped really was for his eyes only.

And if cliques aren't bad enough in the hallway, let's just take it online and compete for the highest number of friends on Facebook. Or better yet, start fan clubs for people who hate Courtney or whoever is lucky enough to wear the crown of most-hated loser that week.

I love Facebook, and I've been able to reconnect with some dear friends who fell out of touch over the years. And when we moved away from PA, my 12-year-old son started an account so he could keep up with his buddies so far away. As for the cell phone, I rarely text, but my smartphone is indispensable with its address book and calendar and instant emergency contact no matter where I am. My 7th-grader, however, does not need one of his own. He'll be just fine sitting in class without the aid of technological subterfuge and textual harassment.

I'm not saying we should ban social media or cell phones, but as a parent and a former high school teacher and now a writer for young adults, I think a lot about the impact this constant hook up to information has on our kids. Every generation has its cross to bear. Every generation changes what it means to be a kid. Adolescence is about making choices, screwing up, and making new choices. It's about learning how to be human, the good, the bad, and the ugly of it.

Laurel Snyder made a fabulous observation when we were talking about YA vs MG characters at a recent SCBWI event: "The middle grade kid is looking out at the world and trying to understand it all, while the YA kid is looking inside, trying to figure himself out." I think that is exactly right. Add a barrage of information, a large portion of which can petty and destructive, and where does it all go? Deep inside.

Spring is Coming!

2009-12-03T11:25:00.000-05:00

Okay, so it's only December, but you know what that means...registration for the SCBWI Eastern Pennsylvania 2010 Pocono Mountain Retreat is OPEN! Just click here to go to the registration website and get things started. OR head over to our chapter website to download a PDF brochure.

Registration will be open until February 20, 2010 so maybe Santa will put a little something special in your stocking! I hope to see you all there!

Check it out...it's FREAKY FRIDAY!

2009-11-27T15:46:00.001-05:00

Just click on the title of this post to link to Kim's blog. Big thanks to Kimberly Sabatini for letting me raid her blog on Black Friday. Can't wait to see you in the Poconos...and on the book shelf!

Anticipation...

2009-11-20T10:38:00.006-05:00

Yes, strains of Carly Simon are beating against my brain right now... in fact, most of the time, lately.

Let me tell you, it is nothing like a fine wine and it definitely does not mellow with age. I thought it was bad when I finished my first book and sent out those initial queries, but I can hardly stand it these days. Sure, I'm hard at work on my next YA masterpiece, but it's also comforting to know that writers aren't the only ones who suffer through this process. Check out Agent Nathan Bransford's quandary. (of course, for some reason, when I read the title of his post, Tom Petty temporarily shoves Carly aside for strains of Waiting is the Hardest Part...)

I don't know about others, but in my case, the evolution of my particular mania is somewhat perplexing to a logical brain and frankly, the obsession is reaching epic proportions.

In the beginning...(cue the music)...I posted my little missive, dressed in its finest and tattooed with the perfect postage, in the box outside my door and immediately started fantasizing about the arrival of a shiny new contract...quickly followed by the inescapable Newbery or Printz or a plethora other book prizes, then the image of my tapping out one awesome book after another. Oh, and yes, my ravenous fingers were groping the mailbox the very next day...and the next...and the next... Mail and I definitely have a love/hate relationship. Even when I lived abroad, I hoped against hope for something exciting in the post. It never came.

So then the question arose in my spastic brain, "will it be a letter? or a contract in the mail? or a phone call?" (email hadn't quite overrun the universe, yet) No matter what, I could never unchain myself from my completely irrational faith in the postal option. (To this day, I still haven't managed that!)

Of course now it is a digital universe and email is far more the standard. So I have another mania to occupy my days. How many times do you check your email? If I could, I'd hook myself up to it like an IV drip! And holy crap! Don't forget to check the spam filter!

When it came to getting my agent, it was email...at least for the introductions. Yes, the agent search can be as sphincter-clenching as the pursuit of the publishing contract...perhaps even more because you want to build a long-lasting relationship that will weather any publishing storm. After a lot of research, I would email a query. Then I would get a request for a partial or, in most cases, a full manuscript. (I was onto something!). And then there it was. AN EMAIL! Not an offer, mind you, but a request for a phone conversation. Perfect! Then it was the phone conversation...and then the offer. Followed by some end-zone dancing, spiking of pillows, a few squeals, and finally...breath. And the thing that made it great was that the phone call told me that this was a perfect match. We got each other. We shared the vision. We wanted the same things.

So, editors...now it's your turn. Make this little red-head dance like a Tazmanian Devil all around her house. I know you've had my manuscript for what, 2 weeks? I know that you saw that email come through. You know, the one with the amazing title and the pitch packet that you couldn't put down? Yeah...You've got the manuscript loaded on your kindle and can't put it down... You've read it twice already because you adore it, right? You're just stuck on whether to offer a basic contract or a multi-book deal...right? Am I right?

To answer Nathan's question...that's what I do when I'm waiting for a response on a submission.

Go stark, raving mad.

Veteran's Day

2009-11-11T09:01:00.004-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, my 12-year-old son's English class was asked to write an essay on what Veteran's Day is. I haven't asked his permission, but I hope he won't mind if I post it. It brought tears to my eyes, this amazing essay that he wrote completely on his own. He didn't ask for help. He just wrote from the heart:

Veteran’s Day

What is Veteran’s Day? Why do we celebrate this day? Veteran’s Day is a day to celebrate all the veterans that gave and risked their lives so that we could live ours. The point is, on Veteran’s Day, we honor those who fought in the war, no matter which war. Many lost their lives, and many families grieved. Veteran’s day is celebrated to insure that their passing was not in vain. This is where the mystery begins.

Many people may ask, “Why do we go to war?” Many think it’s terrible. Many think it’s just what’s right, like it or not. My view is just this: it is not necessarily right or wrong. Back when people were drafted and forced to be in the war, most of them didn’t want to. However, when people sign up, they are choosing to join the war. They want to fight for their country. Luckily we have enough people like this that we don’t have to draft anymore.

A veteran is someone who participated in a war and still sees this day. I have personally met many veterans. One thing I can say is that they all seemed proud to have served in the fight for our nation. Our nation’s freedom is something people seem to not think about enough. We may not want to wear school uniforms, but imagine if we couldn’t ride our bikes in Americus, or we couldn’t eat green apples. These ideas may be a little outlandish, but no one would want to be controlled by someone else. Would you? Veterans helped prevent this, and we all should be thankful.

War is always going on, and it seems like there is too much. I am always hearing things in the news about soldiers dying in the war. This breaks my heart. I see footage of president Obama at the soldiers’ funerals. I have always wondered what a veteran would think seeing this. I never want to find out about what it’s like being in the war, but I thank those who fought for their country, knowing their lives were on the line.

And that’s what Veteran’s Day is: thanks. We thank the men and women who played a part in the war. Soldiers do not get paid very much. They may wonder why they are even doing what they do. The least they could expect when they come home is some appreciation. Veteran’s Day is a day that all should celebrate. That is Veteran’s Day.

~Connor Scott
Lee County, GA

Thank you, dear veterans and active service men and women. Most humbly, thank you.

Time to Feed My Soul...

2009-11-04T18:42:00.004-05:00

Tomorrow I hit the skies and head for Pennsylvania once again. A dear friend is showing her work as the Emerging Artist at the phenomenal Red Raven Art Gallery in Lancaster, PA. I have watched her hone her craft just as she has taken almost every step of my artistic journey with me (and read thousands of my pages) over the last 7 years. Together, we have walked through the fire and shared our little bits of heaven and hell as we grew our gifts. I don't know what I would have done without her. And her latest work is truly brilliant.

I've complained a lot about our recent move to the "arm pit of the South," and I stand by my words. Or at least one word—"desolate." However, there is a feast of sub-cultures down here, and plenty of regional flavor to inform my writing. As of yet, however, the South doesn't really fit into my WIP's setting or plot. I haven't given up or anything, but it's time to feed my writer's soul with some dear friends and a breath of metropolitan life. Okay, so Lancaster PA isn't exactly a teeming metropolis, but it is the East and only a breath away from Philly. There is plenty of artistic influence seeping over the county line and I can't wait to get up there and take it all in again.

But I wonder how other writers who live in small towns far away from a cultural center deal with such cultural quietude. It's not that I'm a cosmo girl or anything. I grew up on a small horse farm in Northern Indiana. But I was close to some Midwestern centers, including Chicago, and I did my fair share of traveling. At heart I am indeed a country girl and I miss my farm, but I really miss the proximity of a city where I can feast on diversity, progressive attitudes, culture. And it wouldn't hurt to go to a real museum or even a real book store! I'm not that I'm a city girl. That's absolutely not the issue. I need my quiet place to nest and cloister myself on my own terms. But I have to know that civilization is close at hand if I need it.

So what is it in me, a girl from northeastern Indiana, that hungers for such things? Maybe it's a past life intruding on the present. Or maybe it's a deep instinct for escapism. Perhaps it's just an innate sense that the world is bigger than me and I don't want to miss something. Whatever it is, I gotta have it. So I guess I am destined to be a traveler. Which is probably a good thing, because I plan to do some major book tours...when my time comes!

A Beginner's Guide to Your First Writer's Conference

2009-10-13T17:00:00.004-04:00

In light of the recent issue with a certain reporter and the delicate spirits of newbie writers everywhere, I am offering a bit of advice for first-time conference goers in the KidLit world based on my own experiences of the last 8 years. It is true that writers coming into the world of children's books from other areas of writing may be surprised at the level of civility here. And those who have never experienced the wonderful world of a SCBWI conference often do not know what to expect from their first writers' conference. Sometimes their excitement over the possibilities gets the better of their otherwise inquiring minds, so I thought I would take a minute to offer some guidelines about expectations and etiquette.

First things First: What is the purpose of a writer's conference?

If you answer that question with something like, "the key to fame and fortune and a published book," then you are wrong...and you are right. No, a conference is not designed to give you instant gratification in the publishing department. Sorry to burst a bubble, but it is exceptionally rare that a new writer gets a book contract from her first conference. But feel free to keep that particular fantasy in the daydream file.

Yes, a conference is all about honing your craft and teaching you how to submit your work so that you can make that dream come true. If you read the brochure, you will see a list of workshops (note the word "work" in there) and speeches aimed at giving you insights into the publishing world as well as tips on how to craft that amazing book, seasoned with a little inspiration as well. So come prepared to learn a lot.

Next: How do you prepare for the conference?

Perhaps I should divide this section into the Do's and Don'ts of preparation. Let's start with the...

DON'Ts:

Don't gather a pile of manuscripts and synopses together and bind them neatly in envelopes to hand out to every editor at the conference—unless you are working on your biceps, because you'll be lugging those little bundles around all day.
Never plan to approach an editor with said bundle of writing at the conference. Each publishing house has its own guidelines and you will get that information in your folder.
Don't expect a lot of one-on-one time with an editor unless you have paid for a manuscript critique or portfolio review.
Don't be afraid to ask questions, and even prepare some in advance.
Don't think that everyone else there is better than you or that they will have some secret you don't have. They have all come there to learn and be inspired.

Okay, how about the...

DO's:

Do pay for a manuscript critique if you can afford it. This is the one time you will get some quality face-to-face time with an editor or agent, but more importantly, it will bring truly professional feedback on your manuscript.
Do a little research about submissions and such at SCBWI's website or other writers' sites.
Do take a little time to jot down questions before the conference. When you are there, things often seem to come so fast and it can be hard to formulate your questions or feel confident in asking them unless you have prepared them ahead of time.
Do read the brochure carefully for things like dress code at the venue and workshop descriptions. Most conferences are casual dress, but occasionally a venue has a "no jeans" policy. And make sure you understand the schedule.
Do prepare business cards to share with other attendees (not the faculty).
Set your expectations to what you will learn at the conference, what you need to know about submissions, trends, matters of craft, etc., and you won't be disappointed.
Do plan to meet some awesome people!

What to bring:

A notebook and pen to take notes on all the fabulous things you will learn.
An open and inquisitive mind and a positive attitude.
Business cards (as stated above)
Courage...and a little faith in yourself.

What to do when you are at the Conference:

Don't take the critique comments personally—they are constructive criticism. Use them to hone your manuscript. You may not agree with all of them, and that is fine. But accept them graciously, discuss them, but don't argue them.
Talk to the people at your table and share your questions and experiences. Don't be shy.
Ask questions during panel sessions, critiques, and workshops. The only stupid question is an un-asked question.
Don't be afraid to admit you are a newbie. Everybody has to start somewhere.
You may talk to the faculty when the opportunity arises, but don't "accost them at the salad bar with your packet of goodies." Talk to them as people. Yes, believe it or not, editors are actual flesh-and-blood people who like to chat. Ask them about their latest project or what they think about the most recent scandal in publishing. Tell them you like their shoes (if you do, that is!). This is actually where you begin to understand why they like what they like...getting to know their personality a bit.
Look at the books for sale. You'll get to know a little more about what the editors work on.
Consider the attendees as colleagues. That is one amazing thing about Children's writers...they are nurturing and supportive. Sure it's a competitive market, but this is not the dog-eat-dog atmosphere that other areas of publishing might be. Embrace the generosity of these people.

What to do after the conference:

Let it all soak in. Process the critique information and then take time to respond to it with a fresh revision before you try to submit it to any of the editors you met (or heard).

Review your notes. Perhaps even blog about them to set them in your mind as well as share some great info with other newbies out there.

I hope you will feel inspired, but sometimes the whole experience can be a little overwhelming. Cut yourself a break. Remember, you went there to learn something and meet some amazing people. Keep it all in perspective.

Remember that writing is a process. So is publishing. And so is learning about all of it.

A Misguided Zealot Lost in the Wonderland of Children's Book Publishing

2009-10-06T13:30:00.003-04:00

This morning I found steam wafting up from more than my cup of hot tea. It was pouring from my ears as I hopped online to catch up on tweets and blogs before I started my day. Yes, there it was. This ridiculous article from so-called writer Julia Duin on the Washington Times website, misrepresenting SCBWI and slamming a couple of conferences she attended, apparently in the hopes of instant literary stardom. To this, I will respond with an open letter to this poor misguided zealot:

Dear Ms. Duin,

I found your article in the Washington Times online this morning rather amusing, though more to the point, excessively irritating. I have attended many SCBWI events and have gained so much from them, that I now volunteer and put a lot of work into organizing an event. You begin by attributing some dubious claims to the organizers of some Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators conferences.

These conferences lure you with the hope that you can be the next J.K. Rowling. The reality is far nastier, despite the names of various agents, publishers, magazine editors and art directors that grace the society's brochures.

You imply that these conferences proffer false hopes and make empty promises, as if they were scurrilous vanity publishers or unethical agents who prey on unsuspecting writers willing to fork over their dollars for even the smallest possibility of getting their book published. Believe me, there are plenty of people out there willing to con writers, good and bad, out of their money and it's not the SCBWI. I suggest you check out Predators & Editors and Writer Beware Blogs! to make sure you won't become a victim.

However, I take exception your characterization of the SCBWI as some shady organization that "lures" innocent writers into what can only be swift and sure defeat. Obviously you misunderstand the purpose of a writers' conference and you arrived with unrealistic objectives of your own making. Moreover, you must have a highly inflated notion of the "reality" of children's book publishing if you thought all you had to do was show up at a conference and accost an editor with your packet of proposals and manuscripts. If you haven't figured it out, children's book publishing is one of the toughest, most competitive fields out there.

Like many professional organizations, the SCBWI offers guidance, creates a sense of community among its members, promotes dialogue on important issues in the field, and offers opportunities for professional development. When it comes to conferences, they are first and foremost about honing your craft and being aware of the market and your target audience, and learning how to submit your work. Volunteers dedicate untold hours to putting these event together. They don't get paid. I looked at the brochures for the conferences you mentioned, and they do exactly that. They claim nothing more. If you see a brochure for a conference that promises to get you published, run the other way.

Of course as aspiring authors we love to fantasize about being "discovered" at a conference, like some would-be starlet sipping her malted at Currie's Ice Cream Parlor in Hollywood. Let me know how many authors started that way. All the authors I know made it by working on their craft and learning from workshops at conferences, making the contacts that allowed them to get their work past the initial slush pile. They paid their dues. Even J.K. Rowling was not an overnight success.

Your flashing your credentials of 5 published books does nothing for me but prove you have a false sense of entitlement—a problem many of our teenagers have these days. The Christian market is very specific and has its own set of standards. Likewise, the children's market has its own rules of etiquette and quality assurance. I suggest you explore this in more detail by visiting SCBWI's website and reading their list of Top 10 FAQ, and visit some of the amazing blogs and discussion boards online. While you are at it, pick up a copy of the latest CHILDRENS WRITERS AND ILLUSTRATOR'S MARKET and read the articles as well as the publisher listings (which includes Christian publishers). And why not add Harold Underdown's COMPLETE IDIOT'S GUIDE TO PUBLISHING CHILDREN'S BOOKS as well? I won't even get into your broad generalizations of the current kidlit market, but if you really want to limit your experience to Christian publications, check out the Christian Writer's Guild.

But please, don't malign an organization that works hard to educate and support writers of children's books because you made unreasonable and uneducated assumptions. Sweeping generalizations and ignorance will get your name out there, but not in a productive or morally sound way.

~ A humble, soon-to-be-published writer who has paid her dues.

CANDOR is out!

2009-09-22T09:53:00.005-04:00

I have to take a moment here to plug a friend. Pam Bachorz has a fabulous YA novel out and you absolutely must run out and get it!

Imagine a world where parents can have their teenagers brainwashed into being "perfect" children.

In the model community of Candor, Florida, every teen wants to be like Oscar Banks. The son of the town’s founder, Oscar earns straight As, is student-body president, and is in demand for every club and cause.
But Oscar has a secret. He knows that parents bring their teens to Candor to make them respectful, compliant–perfect–through subliminal Messages that carefully correct and control their behavior. And Oscar’s built a business sabotaging his father’s scheme with Messages of his own, getting his clients out before they’re turned. After all, who would ever suspect the perfect Oscar Banks?
Then he meets Nia, the girl he can’t stand to see changed. Saving Nia means losing her forever. Keeping her in Candor, Oscar risks exposure . . . and more. (publisher description)

Click on Pam's name to see the amazing trailer for this thrilling ride through CANDOR and learn more about the author!

The Program and Guerrilla Teaching

2009-09-11T19:33:00.006-04:00

WARNING: RANT ALERT!!

Besides the lives of the students themselves, the greatest casualty of this ridiculous beast known as No Child Left Behind is learning, itself. We know that the powers that were (SGWB) unleashed an infantile creature on a rightfully concerned public and it has been reeking havoc on education in America ever since. But today the ravages of NCLB have hit an all new low. My husband teaches the English/Ed Masters program at the university, and his course at the moment revolves around methods of teaching writing to high school students. He is giving his students excellent pedagogical information as well as viable lesson plans they can take back to the class room. Well, some of them.

Imagine our horror when we discovered that there is a programmed curriculum, implemented primarily by at-risk schools, that does nothing more than teach to the test. I'm not talking about a handful of teachers wasting time on worksheets and test drills. No, I'm talking about a system that hogties teachers and forces them to implement the most asinine methodologies in a vain effort to insure that their school meets NCLB performance requirements. This is far more insidious. It is a program that does NOT require students to actually read books. No, it simply "teaches concepts" that are necessary to pass the state standardized test. You read that right—"concepts." It's nothing more than a glorified exercise in rote memorization of terms.

Now we all know that there are teachers who teach to the test for a couple of reasons: 1) they have no imagination. 2) they are too scared for their jobs to risk actually teaching anything but rote memorization. But holy crap, folks! We're talking about the only link between our kids and actual learning!

This so-called program requires only that the teacher give the students "snippets" of text in order to learn to recognize a concept that will appear on the test. Do freshman read Romeo and Juliet? Hell no! What good would that do? They read a few lines so that they can understand what a simile is.

Do they read Animal Farm and speculate on the potential or plausibility of utopia? Are you kidding? They might have a few sentences to from the book and learn that this is an example of political/social satire (if they're lucky!) Make sure you remember the word and its definition, kids. It will be on the test. But never mind about those nasty little nuances that actually make such literature relevant and important. And FUN!

What happened to actually reading classic and modern texts for the sake of learning how to think and to follow a concept all the way through to its magnificent impact? What happened to authentic assessment and active learning...and actual fun in the classroom?

According to my impeccable source, deviation from the program could be risky. When did it become professional suicide to read an entire book with students, to build a 3-4 week lesson plan on a single novel or even a group of poems that are connected by theme or style or some other relevant, interesting quality? For the good teachers, their only resort is guerrilla teaching. That's right. Actually teach, but don't let the administration find out. Put your job on the line to actually do your job.

Consider this:

The year after I left teaching, I met a student who not been allowed to learn. On pain of death. This remarkable young woman came to my former high school for her senior year after being home-schooled her entire life. After one semester, she had moved into the top ten rankings, which unseeded a student who had been part of the smart crowd for years. As you might imagine, at the top ten dinner, all the whispers were sniping remarks about how this home-schooler had only one semester on her GPA and her success had relegated one of the golden children to the 11th slot.

At this dinner, each student must stand up and explain why they brought the guests that they chose. Many of these guests were teachers who had made a difference. For this young woman, it was a man who had risked his life for her. You see, this articulate, intelligent, courage teenager came from Afghanistan only a few months before. Her mother had literally risked her life to educate her girls at home, for you see, it was illegal to educate a woman in their country. And the man, he had risked everything to smuggle them out of the country so they could have a chance to live a decent human life.

This wasn't about any stupid state exam. This had nothing to do with coloring in the right bubble or memorizing a vocabulary list. This was literally about life and death. After she told her story to this group of whining, wonderful top ten students, education had a whole new meaning to every soul in that room. Jaws open wide, eyes shining with emotion, every single person understood what it meant to be graced with the opportunity, the privilege to truly learn.

May we never forget it.

Science Fiction and the Art of Being Human

2009-08-30T12:54:00.003-04:00

Any visitor to my humble writing space would see that my bookshelves are crowded with an eclectic assortment of literary adventures. Ursula LeGuin, George Orwell, Rita Mae Brown, Debora Crombie, Isaac Asimov, Nadine Gordimer, Eoin Colfer, Donna Jo Napoli (just to name a few). It’s one wild party. But no matter how varied the genres, one thing these writers have in common is the ability to craft a phenomenal human story. When it comes to science fiction, however, novice writers often forget to do what science fiction does so well: ask the big questions. Sure an exciting and innovative plot is an essential hook, but the ultimate driving force of any book is its humanity.

The trap for beginning sci-fi/fantasy writers is the urge to get so caught up in creating cool gadgets, provocative character names, and mysterious places that they lose that sense of humanness that transforms not only the narrative, but the reader as well. I’ve read a small share of early drafts and even published pieces that fall short, and the primary flaw is that lack of a truly human story. Many writers portray huge events and complicated plots, but they end up meaningless unless there is a real and relevant human cost.

Let's start with some basic questions:

Character

One of the first questions you should ask is do we care about the characters? Are they rich enough, real enough, flawed enough for us to actually care what happens to them? If they are cardboard cut-outs, cliché stock characters, then they will have no resonance with the reader. Even if your characters are robots or aliens, they must have emotional depth to reach the human audience. And believe me, they can. (Take a look at Helen Fox's MG book, Eager for an idea of how one robot can answer this question.)

Setting

Whether it’s futuristic or otherworldly, the setting must connect to the human story. At the same time, it needs to be an organic part of the narrative. If it takes too much effort to explain it, the setting loses its impact and becomes detached from the crux of the story. Treat it as another character that brings this world into sharper focus. What does it contribute to the conflict? What does it tell us about the characters and what they need? How does the MC’s view of the setting change through the course of the story?

Conflict

What kind of conflict fuels your narrative? Sci-Fi landscapes offer a lot of potential battlegrounds, literal and figurative, but how does it connect to what it means to be human? There is the crux of it all. What does it mean to be human? The further your narrative travels beyond what is the known world, the more diligently the writer must seek to answer that question.

The Big Questions

What is the human cost? The stakes must be high and they must be relevant. The MC should grow through the narrative as well, even if he loses. This is something that good science fiction does so very well. It asks the big questions and pulls the audience, heart and head, into the discussion.

I'll close this brief treatise with a recommendation. If you have not seen DISTRICT 9, you must. This film has set the gold standard for our time. Some people may wish to bill it as a science fiction movie and others as an action movie. It is neither. It is a human story.

Other People's Children

2009-08-25T13:19:00.003-04:00

I was doing my usual blog rounds today, when I got a wonderful reminder about the reality of our artistic passion and our place in the world as writers. Thank you, Rachelle Gardner, for putting things in perspective so succinctly and so clearly. Seriously, folks, how often do you hear yourself saying, "How did that piece of crap get published while my darling masterpiece languishes in a dark drawer along with a flood of rejection letters?" As Rachelle reminds us, art is subjective. And even crap has an audience. Don't you occasional watch crappy TV just for some guilty, mindless pleasure? I totally do...just ask my husband.

I've heard people bash best-sellers (and I'll name no names), but obviously someone is reading them. Yes, we may see it as the last sign of cultural armageddon when what we call junk makes it to the NYT Bestseller list, but as writers we have to face the facts. Not everyone will love our work. To put a finer point on it, we may love our children to depths that we never could have imagined before we had them, but that doesn't mean that everyone wants to be their friend.

How many times have you rolled your eyes when some kid acts up at a restaurant or says something outrageously rude and his parents just laugh and think he's cute? Now think about some of the things your kids do that you find endlessly endearing. Maybe she likes to hug everyone she meets. Great, right? Sweet, affectionate child, right? Who wouldn't love some instant affirmation? Well, Mr. Jones might think she's an annoying, presumptuous child who should keep her hands to herself. Is he a jerk? Maybe. But then again, perhaps he was raised with different standards and different preferences. I happen to like an open, cuddly kid, but not everyone does.

It may be a cliché, but our books are our "rambling brats" as Anne Bradstreet would say. Like our human children, they are born out of love, raised with discipline, and invested with bits of our soul that will bind us to them forever. And doesn't every parent think their kid is brilliant?So when we see something "less worthy" than our own beloved offspring getting all the goods, we take it personally and we cry, "not fair!" But honestly, doesn't that make you love your child (or your book) just a little bit more fiercely?

For that matter, we spend a lot of time teaching our kids that life isn't always fair, but if we give it our best shot, we build character and confidence and ultimately we'll be happier. Stop worrying about other people's children and other writers' books. If we dwell on all those things that we deem "crap" and sit around and whine about how so-and-so didn't deserve to be published, we only poison our mood and waste time that we could be writing.

We nurture our children and make sacrifices without even thinking about it so we can raise bright, secure, amazing people. We should do the same for our writing. Nurture the craft, never stop searching and learning and exploring. Keep looking for opportunities and get to know your audience. And when that masterpiece finally hits the shelves with its beautiful, shiny dust jacket and a host of glowing blurbs on the back, celebrate its birthday and all the accolades that may come along.

BUT, remember that even in all its published glory, your book will not please everyone. So just don't read the negative reviews!

A Member of the Field

2009-08-16T14:45:00.003-04:00

As I watch the amazing play and the wide cast of characters in the PGA Championships, I can't help but consider what it means for those stalwart players who make up the field of virtually faceless names that stalk the leader board. Sure we all know who Tiger Woods is. And Tom Watson. And Jack Nicklaus. And Vijay Singh. We all have our eye on Padraig Harrington who seems almost unflappable playing alongside Tiger. But what about Zach Johnson or Steve Flesch or Camillo Villegas? Okay, Villegas (aka Spiderman) is a hottie and an up-and-comer, but for now he is a member of the field.

I wonder about these guys who love golf and are thrilled to get to play, even if they never win the PGA or the Masters or the British Open. They get to play golf for a living, something they love. They get to keep coming to the golf course every week, continue to hone their skills, and perhaps even snag an occasional win or challenge the greats in the last round of a major. They aren't as famous as the big names, but they are always there. They make fabulous contributions to the game in their own quiet way, without the glare of the spotlight or the excessive pressures of sponsorship that the big names face. Are they happy? They have gotta be.

So what does this have to do with writing? As I launch my career as a writer, I see many of my colleagues making their way through the field. Some of my Blue Boarding buddies are catapulting to the top and finding visible success like Maggie Stiefvater, who not only got a starred review but also just hit the NYT Bestsellers list with Shiver, or Fran Cannon Slayton who is getting rave reviews and touring the country with her debut novel When the Whistle Blows, while others are quietly publishing their amazing books, getting fan mail and glowing reviews, and writing—happily writing—almost every day. They may not win the Newbery or the Printz or a National Book Award. But they are crafting stories and building a life doing something they love.

Do they all want fame and fortune? I doubt it. If they are like me, they want to tell their stories, they want to bring something to kids that has meaning. They want to make reading personal. They want to create. There are so many reasons that writers do what they do and to try to quantify them would not only be impossible, but it would be utterly foolish.

Do I daydream about great reviews and sometime writing something award-worthy. Absolutely! But that's not why I write. That is a goal, but not a reason. Afterall, in many ways, the striving is the true reward. For all you jaded folks out there in blogland, I apologize if that seems too idealistic. But writing in itself is a process, not a product. It's my daily workout, my passion, my teacher, my inspiration. I can look out with genuine admiration and hopeful emulation at people like Neil Gaiman, Libba Bray, Jennifer Donnelly, and Jerry Spinelli and think Wow! I would love to get to that place. Will I be a failure if I never get there? Absolutely NOT. If I am one of the field of writers who gets to do what she loves (and maybe even get paid for it), that is the dream. That is my job.

Book Wisdom from an 8-year-old

2009-08-11T17:31:00.003-04:00

If you are looking for recommendations for young readers, the Book Princess has just started a new blog. Yes, she is 8 years old and she loves to read. When she asked me to help her start her own web site for book reviews, how could I resist?

Check out Time to Read a Book!

A Fabulous New Illustrator!

2009-08-10T14:21:00.001-04:00

Check out Kristen Billingsley's site. Any editors out there looking for some art with character, she has plenty of it.

Murder in the YA Stacks

2009-08-09T20:32:00.004-04:00

With my revisions on BTDV wrapped up (I hope), I am looking to my next project with unstoppable enthusiasm. This next project is even more ambitious than the last, and directed at a slightly older, more sophisticated YA reader. So I'm wondering, how much can you do with murder in a YA book?

I know death is no stranger to YA fiction, but how graphic, how specific, how much? Maybe I should start with looking back at some of my favorite books. Who could forget when Cedric died in HARRY POTTER AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE? I've read every single HP book aloud to my son, and when we got to that moment when Wormtail curses poor Cedric, I could hardly speak it. The words barely made it over my lips. Then, of course, there is Sirius in THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX and Dumbledore in THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE. And even more in THE DEATHLY HALLOWS. I must admit, however, these scenes are fairly "clean" in terms of details.

Another series that offered a bit of murder is Jonathan Stroud's Bartimaeus trilogy. Like the Harry Potter series, death is often accomplished by magic. But this is where my question becomes even more complex. How is murder portrayed in different genres, ie. murder mystery, historical fiction, fantasy, sci-fi, contemporary fiction?

I'm a huge fan of adult murder mysteries. Deborah Crombie's Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James series is wonderful, and the equestrian in me adores Rita Mae Brown's books. But even in adult murder mysteries, the original crime is often fairly detached. You might not even know the victim until after the murder has taken place. But then the characters you really care about are the ones doing the sleuthing.

Historical fiction could offer a more realistic portrait of murder. Jennifer Donnelly's award-winning A NORTHERN LIGHT is a lovely YA historical that takes a hard look at life in turn-of-the-century America. You do learn about the victim and face death in other ways through the main character. Contemporary fiction offers a look at many of life's harder edges (rape, suicide, death, drug addiction), though I must admit, I don't read a lot of "edgy" modern YA novels.

And my own work dances on the borders of fantasy and historical fiction, incorporating paranormal elements among the historical realism. I have dealt with death, and I suppose you could loosely say murder. But this book is quite different, and I'm not sure how far I should take it. Or for that matter, how far I want to take it. How graphic can I be? Perhaps that is just another vein of research I must conduct, but I would be curious to hear how others feel about the subject and by all means, if you have a suggestion for my reading list, please leave it in a comment.

Pushing Through the Fear

2009-07-27T21:05:00.003-04:00

Today, I was reminded of a very basic fact of life—we all have fears. It began last Thursday when my sweet 8-year-old daughter faced one of her greatest fears, and I actually had to stand behind her and throw her smack into the thick of it. Literally. Our goal for this summer: to learn how to swim, face in the water and all. Living in a northern clime (until recently), our access to a pool has been limited by a number of factors, so we never really had the opportunity to follow through on those early lessons we took 2 years ago. Until we met Duster.

On our way to Duster's house, I kept hearing, "I don't think I'm ready yet, Mama. I'm just not ready. What if I'm not ready?" And when the time came to confront the little demon, Ghost Daughter drew on her gift of imagination to concoct a host of excuses why she couldn't stick her face in the water. "I'm too tire. No, really! See the bags under my eyes, Mama? Look at the bags!" Of course she had tried others, like "I'm too hungry" or "My eyes hurt" or "I have to go pee!" But Duster knew that wall intimately, having taught most of the population of Albany under the age of 50 how to swim over the years.

And yes, I stood there dumbly as this wizened kid-whisperer dunked my screaming child under the water over and over. I said nothing when my darling daughter cried out, "I'm afraid!" and Duster calmly told her that she was going to help her break through that wall of fear. Yes, I actually threw my own child into the deep end of the pool despite her collapsing in a soggy pile on the concrete and pleading with me not to. And yes, I held my wee little one as she vomited after a several triumphant treks across the pool with her head under water, only to beam up at me with her little, pale face full of pride.

There is no coaxing here. No polite chat or tender conversation about how she must learn to swim for her own safety and fun. It's one of those moments, those come-to-Jesus, life-changing moments. And that girl kicked butt! She couldn't sleep that night, she was so excited that she actually did it. She really swam under water! She knocked that wall down!

Well...maybe she knocked a few bricks out, but it's a start.

So, our next lesson was today, and we have two dear friends visiting from Pennsylvania to witness another triumph. And Ghost Daughter was thrilled to show off, at least she thought she was. Last night she woke up in the middle of the night with a terrible headache. After a dose of motrin, she tried to go back to sleep, but the two of us ended up parked on the couch from 3:30 on, watching the final round of the LPGA Evian Masters. Nothing could shake that headache.

The telling question came at breakfast, "Will we have to cancel my swim lesson?" And again at lunch, "Mama, I feel like throwing up...will we have to cancel my lesson?" No matter how great that first triumph, fear is a rascal that will lay a few more bricks in that wall if you let him.

I was a sensitive, loving mama who comforted her child, gave her some Sprite and some kind words...and then drove her to her lesson. When we arrived, she ran into bushes, screaming, "I have to throw up!" Again, I dragged my poor child to the side of the pool. She went in, however grudgingly, but in one turn of the pool, that glow of success was all over her again. And this time it stuck. She had kicked down the wall, pushed through the fear, and found her inner mermaid.

It's easy to get jaded as we grow older and forget the significance of early battles such as these. As adults, no one is going to throw us into the pool. It is entirely up to us, and we may even choose to walk away from some challenges...simply because we are too tired, or too hungry, or we have to pee. Or so we tell ourselves.

But I have that beautiful moment that just leapt up before me today. And so many more to come. And I will push through my own fear...just like that skinny little 8-year-old in the green polka dot bikini.

Writer's Guilt

2009-06-24T15:54:00.003-04:00

When I was a kid, I didn't dare get caught sitting—or heaven forbid, lying—on the couch anytime the sun was up or there would be hell to pay. I cringed and broke into a cold sweat every time the back door squeaked open. Always afraid it would be my father walking in, ready to ask that all-too-incriminating question, "What are you doing?"

Eventually I learned how to jump up without a sound and scramble to look busy. Maybe I'd move some stuff around on the shelf or re-fold the blanket or rearrange some pillows. Or, even better, slip out of sight before he made it into the family room. I spent a lot of time in the barn or in the woods or down by the river, but inevitably the sun would get too hot or the winds to chilly and I would seek the peace of the family room couch. Always laden with guilt.

Perhaps that's why I have a hard time letting myself be a writer. I mean hours can go by and I get only a few words on the page. I get a cup of tea. Bounce my magic glitter ball a few times. Clean out my fountain pen. And think...

Then I sit in my rocking chair for a while, with the laptop on my knee. And think...

Then I watch a little tennis or golf or show jumping. Or maybe I'll surf the net a while. And think...

I can hear my father's voice so clearly, "When are you going to get a real job?" Of course teaching high school was never a real job to him, either, but I did that for almost 10 years. Still, I can't help but feel guilty that there isn't more to show for all this thinking and tea drinking and web-surfing and magic glitter ball bouncing. My head gets it, but old habits definitely die hard. I have to keep reminding myself that all this nothing is what allows me to create something. And for that matter, writing is not a finite process. There is no true beginning and end. It is with you always—creating, composing, revising. Just because the words are not pounding across my computer screen a mile a minute does not mean I'm not writing. Hell, I'm writing in my sleep!

So I guess when I really need to feel more "active" and ease that writer's guilt, I should take my writing self and keep it going while my other self mucks out the horse barn (when I finally have one again). And if I want to sit in the rocking chair or take a nap or watch a bad movie in the middle of the afternoon...

Well, it's all part of the job.

Distractions

2009-06-17T14:14:00.008-04:00

As you can gather from some of my recent blogs, I've been in serious need of distractions lately. I've considered blogging about the complexities of grief and the insanity of dysfunctional families, but I think I (and anyone who might stumble upon this blog) would be better off saving those musings for my next YA novel. Of course as a writer, just about any life experience, no matter how big or small, is fodder for some masterpiece in the making.

Consider my latest MOD (mode of distraction)—backyard birding. Yes, I could sit for hours watching the intricate ecosystem that is our backyard, if it weren't for the 105º heat. However, even with the scorching summer sun, I spend a lot of time in the lawn chair with Ghost Hunk's 2-ton camera in my lap while I meditate on life's crap and watch the birds. It's amazing the personality you can find out there. These are just a few interesting fellows who gather in the yard regularly:

There is so much chatter in my yard that I have to wonder what they talk about. Are they griping about their passive/aggressive maniacal sisters who seem bound to make life absolute hell? Are they gossiping about the neighbors and who's cheating on whom? Or is the greatest concern on their little minds how fast the bird seed seems to be disappearing from the plastic tube this crazy woman with the funky machine in her lap has hung on the wrought iron hook next to the tree?

And then I wonder...

Do they know how rich and welcome their songs are at the first light of day? Do they realize how much I love to watch them go through their day, chattering away in the trees about who-knows-what? Do they ever see themselves as little saviors who guard my sanity?

Hm...

They should.

What Characters Live With You?

2009-06-10T15:40:00.003-04:00

Yes, I have finally re-entered the blog-o-sphere, although my perspective may be a little shaky. Please forgive me if I ramble a bit too much.

With my own revision finally done, I actually had a chance to finish the fabulous book I had started before everything went pear-shaped.

If you haven't read THE GRAVEYARD BOOK yet, please run straight away to the nearest bookstore or library and grab this jewel. How could a boy named Nobody be so strong a character that he takes up permanent residence in my brain? Because Neil Gaiman crafted an amazing character in a brilliant setting with such a sublime mission. Yes, I gush. But this is one of those books. And Nobody is one of those characters.

Neil Gaiman makes it look so easy, but how does a character manage to transcend the page and haunt your thoughts for who-knows-how-long? And who has done that for you?

First, what better mechanism for drawing on the reader's sympathy than opening your book with a prodigiously courageous infant in peril? From the first meeting, we are drawn to Nobody in the most primal way. Especially if you are a parent. If you are kid, you can't help but admire this kid's tenacity and guts. His loneliness haunts us, his hunger for knowledge tempts us, his evolution inspires us. I think dear Bod will be with me for quite a while—most likely forever.

Second, what other characters stay with me? Of course Harry Potter grabbed me from the start. Again, I think the fact that I am a parent engendered a connection beyond what the intended audience would understand. I wanted to protect him, to love him, to give him hope. But of course, if I could, he wouldn't be Harry.

Kit Tyler from THE WITCH OF BLACKBIRD POND was one of my favorites from my childhood. I read that book...32 years ago (Yikes!)...and I still think of her. She has spunk. She has righteous indignation...and the courage to do something about it.

Others that stay with me: Ramona Quimby, Gooneybird Green, Gemma Doyle, Edward Tulane, Ann Fay Honeycutt,... just to name a few.

It's not just their strength or their boundless courage. Quite the contrary. It's their fallibility. Their humanness.

I am thinking about all this as I begin work on my next YA novel. Already I'm living with my characters and learning about them, watching them grow into interesting and flawed young people. I just hope I can right them as clearly as I feel them.

What characters haunt you?

A Sad Week

2009-05-26T10:27:00.000-04:00

Some of you may already know that my mother passed away last week. I was with her when her time came, and there is a lot to take in. I'll post again in a couple of days, but I just needed to take a little break while I process it all. You can read her obituary at D.O. McComb and Sons.

I Break for Birds

2009-05-17T13:35:00.005-04:00

One benefit to our recent relocation is I have a better bird-watching perch. I find that when I need to think, I tend look out the window, often at nothing at all. I'm not sure why, but it just feels good. But I must say, it's definitely better to have a little natural drama to zone out to. At the old house, we had a bird feeder to watch, but it was in a flower bid in our front yard, outside the living room—not particularly conducive to taking pictures or journaling. Too much traffic to make the little tweeters comfortable enough to stay awhile. What I really need is a sanctuary so I can let my brain relax and wander through my character sketches and plots with a little bit of nature to inspire me.

So now, I have a chair on the back patio always waiting for me. I settle down into my cheap Walmart camp chair with Ghost Hunk's Nikon with the extra cool lenses...and wait...and think...and prewrite. Eventually, I'll have a little birding journal, but for now I guess I'll just play the voyeur. To the birds, only! My little oasis helps me clear my head and focus my thoughts so I can write. I don't know how it works, but it does. Love those birds!

The Incredible Disappearing Woman.

2009-05-06T15:12:00.003-04:00

How did this happen? What about that strong, independent chick who bought her first house at 24 and ruled her world as a single woman? She is still in here somewhere, but the DMV ain't gonna find her!

Yes, today I had to relinquish my PA driver's license so I could officially join the ranks of the South. I thought I had it all dialed in:

PA driver's license — check
birth certificate — check
marriage license (yes, I actually thought to bring that!) — check
the power bill with our new address on it — check...sort of.

The problem is that the name on our power bill is Ghost Hunk's, not mine. In fact, none of the bills have my name on them — not the phone bill or the trash bill or the cell bill. My name is not even on the lease! (At least my credit won't get hit if Ghost Hunk misses a payment!) So I'm looking at the DMV clerk behind the counter and trying to figure out what the hell happened to Ghost Girl?

I do have my own bank account (as every woman should), and a statement would suffice, but I get my statements online (Go Green!). I don't even have that in print! Well, I'll chance it. Yes, I drive all the way home (in the next county), scramble to find my power cord and USB cable for the stupid printer which hasn't been set up yet because my desk still hasn't arrived...

Sigh.

I print out my first statement (at this point, it's all I have), grab every piece of correspondence I have from the bank, and head back down to the DMV. Totally sugar-deprived, mind you. I haven't had lunch yet, and my blood sugar is taking a nose dive. I pity the person who crosses me now!

I get to the DMV, where a handful of people has grown into a full-fledged throng in the hour it took me to get my crap together. I finally get up to the clerk and...the computers are down! But somewhere in cyberspace, the binary gods take pity on me and the computers come up about 10 minutes later.

After a few furrowed brows and a final "ok," my documents are deemed acceptable, and I get my friggin' GA license!

But who is that wide-eyed chick staring up from the drab blue square, looking half baked? A married mother of 2 who somewhere along the way sacrificed perhaps a bit too much of herself for her own comfort. 20 years ago, my name was on a mortgage, a credit card, a bank account, a car loan, a payroll... Now, I just feel a bit pathetic. I guess next time I have to prove myself, I'll just have to take in my latest best seller with my stunning jacketflap photo and say, "There you go. 100% guaranteed legitimate woman. That's me!"

Another great contest from some Awesome KidLit writers!

2009-05-04T13:50:00.002-04:00

Click on the title of this post to see the list of fabulous prizes from Rick Riordan, Julianne Moore, Sarah Quigley, Cheryl Renee Herbsman, and C. Lee McKenzie.

Check out Caren Johnson Literary Agency's New Web Site!

2009-05-01T15:59:00.001-04:00

If you haven't stopped in for a visit, yet, head on over the CJLA and check out the new digs! Just click on the title of this post and go!

A Little Death, Anyone?

2009-04-30T16:22:00.003-04:00

I am currently putting one more revision on my favorite book (so far), and it occurred to me that among all these ghosts and even a small pile of dead bodies, there is no actual funeral anywhere. Yes, I kill off the poor sots and leave them rotting somewhere outside the pages. That doesn't really seem fair, does it?

Yes, I'm in the "kill your darlings" stage (how ironic), so I don't want to load up my manuscript with another mountain of words. But there are some things missing. So it's time to weed out the blah and add a little more "gotcha!" Perhaps some up close and personal time with a corpse is the ticket. There are some good questions in this quest, though. Do I stay true to a regional 19th century funeral rite or branch out into something more experimental to suit the avant-garde community I've created? Or something to suit the ill-fated character in particular? How specific should I be? These are the things that make writing so fun!

Love is an Action

2009-04-12T11:59:00.004-04:00

As a writer, you hear it all the time: "Show don't tell." Think about that when you consider what love is, in your book or in your life. Last weekend, I was away at a fabulous writers' retreat. Of course the only date we could get this time around happened to fall on my 16th wedding anniversary. I thought about Ghost Hunk a lot and missed having our "date night," but he knows I love him. And I know he loves me.

Sure, he tells me a lot and I tell him, but that's not what really convinces me. It's the way he never complained about the fact that the retreat was scheduled on that day. It's how he went ahead and moved us into the new house while I was gone, kids in tow and all. It's the little bits of dark chocolate he snags for me just because he happened to be at Walmart. It's the 4 oz. of my favorite tea from my favorite cafe that he bought as he headed out of East Petersburg for the last time.

But it is so much more, this love thing. 15 months ago, he told me he would have to look for a new job (please don't ask me to explain why). That we would almost definitely have to leave our home in Central PA. That he might even have to leave academia, for which we sacrificed more than a little. Did I cry? Of course. But in that moment, it was less about my loss and everything about what that meant to him. What would he be losing? It broke my heart to think of it.

Was I angry? Absolutely. At him, at his boss, at the whole situation. But that wasn't going to make things right. Somehow, I knew what I had to do. There was a certain unexpected grace that kept me from crumbling, that spared us from feelings of resentment and bitterness (and believe me, I was no stranger to those dark friends). When a job finally came, it meant six months as a single mom, dealing with the kids' separation issues, mourning, and immeasurable sense of loss all by myself while he tried to concentrate on his work and continued to hunt for a decent place for us to live 600 miles away.

Through it all, there was a sense of us. No matter how desperate it got, there was no question. It surprised even me—a little. This grace, this larger than life drive that carried us through some of the scariest moments of our married life. Forget the fluttery feelings, the wild sexual tension, the stumbling around for the right words because you're so afraid of the wrong ones. None of that means squat. Love is an action. It's when you can do things you never thought you could do, without question, without resentment. You DO them. Show, don't tell.

After my grandfather died, my grandma used to wear his watch all the time. And when it got chilly, she would fold herself into his sweater. There was no maudlin display. She never thought about what she was doing or even why. She just did it. She just loved him...all day long.

How Hairy Was Your Move?

2009-03-31T19:18:00.003-04:00

Well, almost everything that could go wrong did, but not everything. Let's start with the movers. They said they would arrive either Wednesday or Thursday, assuring us that they almost always get there on the first of the two days they promise. They arrived at 9:15 pm Thursday night! Thank heavens for my awesome neighbor who gave us a couple of beds so the kids could sleep while we packed the truck all night. Ghost Hunk stayed at the house all night and I caught a few winks at the neighbors as well.

The walk-through took place as scheduled at 9:00 am Friday. We still weren't done loading the truck. And the buyers' real estate agent pitched a fit and refused to turn over the funds until we were completely out. I was raised in real estate, and I've never seen an agent act like that!

The Moving truck that arrived was not the one we expected. It was half the size! So...We had to leave stuff behind. Again, friends and neighbors came to the rescue. However, what got left behind? 1. My writing desk. 2. My chair. 3. My work table. 4. My elliptical trainer.

Did we have gorgeous weather for travel? Well, we left in sunshine, but halfway through Virginia, the rain came...and came...and came...all the way to Georgia. Two days of it. And of course, all the stuff in our car-top carriers got soaked. So much for the waterproof claims!

One of the best things that happened with the move, however, was absolutely perfect. Ghost Daughter and I spent Friday night with a dear writing friend. Joyce Moyer Hostetter put us up for the night, and it was great to catch up and share our latest WIP info and life stories. Even the dogs felt at home at the Hostetter house. It was lovely!

And now, we are in GA with Ghost Hunk (ah...at last!) and getting ready for another wild weekend. Yep, we have to move again. This time into are "real" house, which will be wonderful. The kids have held up so well and I am in awe of their strength.

And my family is all together. At least until Thursday when I board a plane back to PA for the SCBWI Eastern PA Pocono Mountain Retreat!

Ah...life!

On the Move...

2009-03-24T12:13:00.003-04:00

I don't know how I actually thought I would be blogging this month, but with the house finally sold, I've been useless the last 2 weeks. The truck is coming tomorrow and I will lose all contact with my beloved cyberworld for a few days...maybe even a week. shudder So hang on, dear friends. I'll be back online ASAP. In the meantime...it's good to be with Ghost Hunk once again.

When Did I Quit My Day Job?

2009-03-11T08:36:00.003-04:00

There is a literal answer to that: When I had my daughter. However...somewhere in the back of my brain, I've always held on to the notion that I am a teacher. I love teaching, and it is one thing that I was destined to do. But is it truly the only thing? I'm also a writer and in the last few years, I have begun to evolve and find my identity as a YA writer. Does that mean that I am no longer a teacher?

I was forced to answer that question the other day as Ghost Hunk and I were cleaning out the attic in preparation for the big move. Like all gifted teachers (that's a joke), I am a maniacal pack-rat. I have boxes and boxes of curriculum that I designed for gifted kids, AP classes, and academic courses. I've held on to it all since I quit teaching high school in 2000. Why? Because it's me, part of who I am. It's like all of my writing...I gave birth to it. I nurtured it, raised it, and sent it to work when the time came. Now it sits enshrined in its pristine file boxes from OfficeMax in the corners of my attic. Will I ever have a use for it? Do I really need to drag it all the way to Georgia?

So here I am again at that nagging question, "Am I a teacher anymore?" Perhaps the more appropriate question is, "Is that mountain of old curriculum necessary to validate one career or even me as a person?" Of course the answer is "no." I will always be a teacher, even if I never set foot in the classroom again. But even before I dragged that first yowling sophomore through the pages of LORD OF THE FLIES, I was a writer. A writer and a passionate reader. And that is what I remain.

I guess I walked away from my day job back in 2000, but I quit it yesterday. Yes, I'm letting it all go. I really should construct a funeral pyre and send off those piles of brilliance (again, I'm joking) to their just rewards with pomp and ceremony. But a dumpster will have to do the job for now. (Don't want the fire marshall throwing me in jail just before the big move!)

But I will also celebrate. Waking the dead and celebrating life as a writer. I am a writer.

A Quick Note and an Amen

2009-03-05T14:48:00.002-05:00

While I'm in the midst of furious packing (and I chose that adjective carefully), I'll take a minute to direct you to Nathan Bransford's latest blog and say a hearty "AMEN". And my next post will address some of his oh so à propos points about the writer's life.

But for now, carry on...

Is a Debut Novel always the First Novel?

2009-02-23T12:51:00.003-05:00

My guess would be—NO. Sure the fantasy of writing that first book and having it take off, sell to an amazing house, then top the NYT bestseller list has got to dog most of us writers at some time or another. Of course 8 years into my writing career, I've kind of figured a few things out. And yes, it is my career, even if my work hasn't rolled off a shiny press yet.

Writing rarely just "happens" like that well-worn fantasy, even for those so-called overnight successes. It is an art and art requires inspiration, sacrifice, attention to craft, and a mountain of patience, not to mention an intense personal commitment and a small dose of luck. If you look at the files of many of your favorite writers, you will most likely find a stash of manuscripts, some half-finished, some abandoned after a flurry of rejections, some no more than a scrap of paper with an idea scrawled across it. It's all part of the process.

I teach my students that writing is a process. The "final product" is just where we decide to stop working that process. Every draft, every note scribbled in the margins, every hour of racing thoughts about plot and character that keep you awake at night, it's all part of the process. Every draft of that first book was like vocal scales, stretching and developing my voice, getting it ready for that amazing aria. Okay, that might be a little over the top, but you get the picture.

I've been thinking about that first book, the YA that is still awaiting judgement at a small house. Even with it under consideration, the farther I get away from that first novel, the more I realize there is a lot I could do to make it better. To be honest, I'm not sure where I want it to go. It's kind of like your mother showing those ridiculous baby pictures to your boyfriend. I don't look like that anymore, but the same person is inside that goofy grin with the cat's eye glasses. I love my first book, and I still think it's a good book that kids will enjoy, but not nearly as solid as my second, which is making the rounds to editors now.

My current YA is sort of my coming of age in terms of writing and will soon be my debut novel (I hope). I'm ready for the big "coming out" party and then on to my next, which will be even better. What will happen to #1? I don't know. But it's all part of the process.

Need a Moment?

2009-02-15T11:49:00.002-05:00

With all the disheartening news over at HarperCollins and all around the publishing world, as well as the maddening economic nightmare we're all facing, it may be hard to be inspired by the little things. I'm lucky. I have two beautiful little things that fill my days with wonder and hope and inspiration. As a writer, I'm always trying to capture a moment, a ripple of transcendence. Kids can do that for you...oh, so easily...

So here's one of those moments.

Place Matters

2009-02-09T11:53:00.004-05:00

As the Pocono Mountain Retreat draws near, I thought I would spend a little time on some of the topics our fabulous workshopping editors, agent, and authors will be sharing with us. Molly O'Neill from Bowen Press will be taking us through a character Boot Camp at the retreat, so my last post took a quick look at character. This time around, I thought we would peek at her second topic—setting.

I write historical fiction, often infused with an element of the fantastic, so establishing a firm sense of "when" and "where" we are is critical to drawing my reader in and keeping her along for the ride. I have often suggested to my students that they should treat setting as another character, develop it, give it a personality and a firm physical presence. Inevitably someone asks, "Why?" Kim Edwards, author of The Memory Keeper's Daughter, gives the perfect answer in a recent article in The Smithsonian, "Place matters, as does a sense of history and a feeling of connection to the land." She was actually talking about why there is such an uproar about urban expansion in Lexington, KY, but she connected this notion to the draw that a place like Lexington has on writers. And for that matter, readers.

Setting is much more than a cardboard backdrop against which a number of players perform (the song Paper Moon keeps running through my brain). It should have as much substance as your main characters. Afterall, they live there. If you want to get a little more clinical about it, we are very much a product of our environment. It stands to reason that our characters should be as well. Certainly a well-built setting can lend depth, authenticity, and validity to your characters. They breath in the air, whether it be thick with industrial soot or perfumed with honeysuckle and myrtle. Their feet have been toughened by pavement or by gravel roads or even softened by the lush carpet of bluegrass that rolls on for miles. The sense of community and culture informs their decisions and even dictates their actions or explains their reactions.

I've talked before about the reciprocal relationship between a story and the reader. There are really 3 stories been told: The one the writer writes, the one the story tells, and the one the reader lives. Think about where your readers will live. Think about how long you want them to stay. Kim Edwards also explains that "your understanding of a place changes the longer you stay; you discover more, and your own life gets woven into the fabric of the community." I think it often works like that with a book as well. Invite your readers to come stay a while, to really live in this place, to become part of it.

Now how do you do that? I'll save that for Molly's workshop!

Cynthia Leitich Smith's ETERNAL Release Contest

2009-02-08T22:40:00.003-05:00

Check this out:

Eternal Grand Prize Giveaway Package: in celebration of the Feb. 10 release of Eternal (Candlewick), author Cynthia Leitich Smith is giving away several prize packages, some including signed copies of the novel, tie-in T-shirts, finger puppets, stickers, guardian-angel tokens, and more! See details here.

The Psychology of Character

2009-02-01T12:33:00.003-05:00

Everyone loves a good plot, but a book is nothing without its characters. You can have the most exciting premise in all of literature, but if your characters are stock cardboard cut-outs, that book will never get off the ground. So what makes a character worth knowing? Human complexity.

My friends over at The Bookshelf Muse give us tons of valuable information and interesting descriptions to help you create the emotional depth that breathes life into a character. Lots of great phrases that portray the characters' feelings in those subtle ways that speak to our subconscious. And that is the key, isn't it? The character must speak to us. Not in his words. Well, not only in his words. But through his actions. It's that whole "show-don't-tell" thing that gets pounded into you at every critique and workshop. As writers, we have to go beyond the obvious and even play amateur psychologists.

Here's the real question: How do you build that complexity without simply slapping together some basic cause/effect descriptions? Sure, if a hot girl talks to a shy boy, there are certain physical signs that give away his true emotions (including the stereotypical sweaty palms and stuttering). But what about when there is no hot girl? We are who we are even when we are not asked to respond to a specific question or statement. So shouldn't our characters be all that? And how do you show that? This is tough, especially when you have a small space to work in and an audience with a sometimes limited attention span. Quite simply, it's all in the details. The clothes a character chooses, the way he ties his shoes, how he keeps some emotions captive, only to unleash them later in the most inappropriate situation.

I've been watching my kids a lot lately. They are dealing with some really crappy stuff, and I see it all over the place. For my daughter, things are much murkier. She knows we are moving, but who knows when... She misses her daddy, but can she trust Mama to take care of things while he's gone... She talks to Daddy every day, but when will he be able to tuck her into bed again? (When the damn house finally sells...but that's for another time).

At almost 8 years old, she isn't always willing to talk about things as specifically as we would like, but that doesn't mean she bottles it all up. No, her anxieties usually show up at school, with the least provocation, or at home when she is asked to break away from her fantasy play to go to the bathroom or pick up her room. Add into all this a genuine developmental issue like dyspraxia and you get even more fire to play with. My son just gets weepy at times, or he starts to mumble, as if his lower lip just doesn't have the motivation to form the words. I guess what I'm getting at is that like us, our characters express their complex personalities all the time, even in the way they carry a box or close a door. The actual cause/effect is not always immediate or discernible. But your readers will get it. If nothing else, they'll be asking questions: "why does he talk like that? what made him act that way...".

There has been some discussion on the blue boards about ODD and I've seen other chat about a variety of diagnoses that writers might include in their stories. But they don't need to make it the obvious focus of the story to use it effectively. I have often thought about including a character with dyspraxia or ADD or OCD, but it doesn't have to be a labeled condition to make a character real to the reader. It simply has to be genuine.

I am still working on these things in my writing. As I revise old manuscripts and dive into my current WIP, I have an eye turned towards these kinds of details. Even in a plot-driven novel, the characters need to seem real to the reader. We have to care what happens to them. We have to feel as if we've met them already.

Just a little psychology.