The comment thread on last week’s post regarding submitting your work regardless of what some other writer might say about its chances at publication has spawned a lot of interesting side discussions: about revising on the advice of an agent (who is not your agent), about what to do with a manuscript that seems too out of the box for the market, about the advisability of writing something that has a good chance of being out of the box, and many more topics that, although beyond the scope of THAT particular subject, are things that writers are deeply concerned with. Most recently, there was a comment from Beth Smith that naturally led into a post of its own:
“I suppose the next question is: to what extent should you think about marketing BEFORE you start the novel? Where do you draw the line between ‘protecting the work’ and not embarking upon a ‘hard-sell/no-sell’ project?”
The first thing you need to ask yourself is how you know it’s a hard sell project. I have two friends who happen to be New York Times Bestselling writers. Both landed on the Times list with books that were, pre publication, deemed “hard sell projects.” Friend #1 had this opinion of her project because she’d been trying to sell it for 10 years without much luck. It fell rather neatly between two very different genres. The publishers of the one genre told her it was too much like the other, and vice versa. They always cautioned her to remove the other element, to make it more fully of the genre they published. But she was in LOVE with this project and the marriage of the two genres, and so was everyone else who read it. One editor who read it was so in love with it, in fact, that a year after she initially turned it down, she dreamed up an innovative way to make it work in their publishing program. The book became a beloved bestseller.
Friend #2 had the opinion that her project was a “hard sell” for lord only knows what reason. Maybe someone on an internet forum told her that, since she hadn’t submitted it, so she had no professional opinion to go on. I know I certainly didn’t agree with the assessment. I was watching the zeitgeist carefully, and this fit right in. To be perfectly honest, I think she was afraid because she knew this one was “the one.” And it was, because she got an agent and a book deal in no time flat, and the book was a huge hit.
The moral of this story is: We’re not always as good a judge as we think we are. Friend #1 believed in her book. Believed in it more than I think I would have the power to believe in any of my books. Believed in it for ten years of disappointment. Friend #2 had to have some manipulative bitch secretly start submitting the book behind her back to get her off her ass. (Don’t worry, she thanks me now.)
And then there’s Friend #3. Friend #3 is not a bestselling author. However, she had a project she really believed in. A “book of her heart.” She tried to sell it for years to no avail. But she so cared for this project that although she continued to write far more profitable books, she put this book of her heart out through a small press, where it found a rabid niche audience and received several writing awards.
So… where do I draw the line? It depends on the book. If I were to write a “book of my heart” (which Julie Leto and Jo Beverly define in the above-linked article to mean “a book that invaded an author’s psyche so deeply, that she is ravenously compelled to write it, even if she knows it will not sell because it is not marketable. The book actually blocks the writer’s more commercial work”) then I don’t think anything would stop me from getting it out. But it hasn’t happened.
I love that Leto article. It pretty much describes my approach to my writing career. I don’t view this as a dichotomy. It’s not “book of your heart” vs. “book of your wallet.” For me, I love all my projects and they have all been a marriage of my writer brain and my business brain — they have been books that I know I could love and books that I thought would be marketable. That has been my luck.
Have I always been right? No. The fourth manuscript I wrote (the last one I wrote before selling Secret Society Girl, in fact) was a single title paranormal romance. This ms won a Molly Award, finaled in a bunch of other RWA contests, got a bunch of full requests from agents and editors, and was rejected by over 20 different illustrious members of the publishing world. To this day I cherish the rejection letter I got from one agent that explains to me that though well-written, the book possessed specific issues which would make it a hard sell in the paranormal romance market, and that it was her professional opinion that I’d be better off trying something else. I was not Friend #1, and this book was not Friend #1’s magnum opus. I chose to move on. Since the next book I wrote got an agent and a book deal in no time flat, I guess I made the right choice THAT time.
But, I wrote that book and edited it and submitted it and THEN figured out that I was barking up the wrong tree. That was seven years ago. Since I’d like to not repeat that mistake, now I try to figure out where my book might fit into the market before I spend a year writing and editing it. To do this, you must not only look at the books on the shelf (which might have been bought 2 years ago), you must see what is selling now. Today. You must subscribe to Publisher’s Marketplace and see what people are buying RIGHT NOW. Do you happen to have a book idea that fits into that spectrum? Good. Now’s the time to write THAT book. Not some other book. THAT one.
I have lots of ideas. I keep a whole file of them. Sometimes ideas live inside that file forever with nowhere to go. The words “a retelling of Persuasion” have been in my idea file for years and years. About two years ago, the word “post-apocalyptic” somehow got jumbled up next to that idea, and they stuck. Last year, while casting around for something to write that wasn’t killer unicorns, I thought about that, thought about how much the YA market was loving its post-apocalyptic books, and decided that the time had come. That’s how I choose what projects to write. I look at the things I want to write, and then I pick the one that I think has the best potential on the marketplace.
The truth of the matter is that if we really really REALLY love a project, if it’s a “book of our hearts,” then whether or not it’s a hard sell doesn’t matter. In fact, we probably will never see it as a hard sell. Friends #1 and #3 were always mystified that the publishing world was unable to see their books’ potentials. In their own way, they were each right.
For me, the “hard sell” alarm is going to temper my love for the project. But I also know that one day there may come a book where I’m deaf to the alarms, just as my friends were.
And that’s a “your mileage may vary” situation, too. Some writers would say that I’m missing something if I don’t have some book that consumes my soul to write. Other writers would say that I concentrate too much on what I really want to write (like “weird” killer unicorn books), when I should just write a paranormal boyfriend love triangle like what’s burning up the bestseller list.
It’s possible that there are orphaned ideas in my file that would be big hits. Because here’s the flip side of this oh-so-eternal question. For every writer that has a beloved book be deemed a “hard sell”, there is another writer looking at the bestseller list or a big deal posting and going, “Wow, I totally had that idea.” But here’s what I think — we didn’t write it because we DIDN’T feel the love. We said to ourselves, “yeah, were-mosquitoes might be cool, but I’m really feeling that whole sea monsters in space thing right now.” And then, five years later when the writer of the were-mosquito book is jetting to and from her private island to Hollywood where her were-mosquito movie is being filmed, we’re happy, because we still love our sea monsters from outer space.
I got a letter from an aspiring writer the other day with a question about the marketability of her work. Basically, she’d written a book that might be sold as an adult novel or as a YA novel. She’d written it as a YA novel, though, and was concerned when a bunch of other writers (who hadn’t read her book) told her they thought it would be a hard sell in that market. So she wrote to ask my opinion.
My opinion was, in short, that given that neither I nor these writers had read her work, and given that neither I nor these other writers were in any position to publish her work, that what we might say on the matter wasn’t worth a whole lot. The only person whose opinion actually matters is the editor who has received the book as a submission. And, given that the work was written and edited, there is absolutely nothing to lose than trying to get it to one of those editors.
The writer wrote back to me to say that her next step was to get a few more reads by critique partners so that she could get more opinions about how best to market it.
Not to get all Dean Wesley Smith here, but as great as I think critique partners are (and I do think they are great) they are helpful in an editorial way. NOT in a marketing way. They are writers. They are NOT in any position to buy your book, or to sell it to publishers. In the end, the only person whose opinion about the marketability of your book that matters is the one holding the checkbook.
(And, for those of you without agents, let me tell you: there will be times when you disagree with your agent. When you send them a project that you think is great and they tell you they don’t think they can sell it. And then it’s up to you to decide if you’re going to agree with them and try something else, get a new agent to sell it, or sell it on your own, or what. I’ve known folks who left agents over projects that the agent wouldn’t sell that went on to become NYT bestsellers. I also know writers who thank their agents every day for steering them away from projects that would have been a bad move for them.)
So if this is a book that is written and edited and polished, then stop asking other writers what their opinion is as to its marketability. Other writers can’t do anything for you. FIND AN AGENT who can sell your work to an editor. Agents can be much better than you at figuring out where your book best fits in the market. Maybe they had lunch with an editor the other day who said, “I’m looking for a book just like XYZ.”
When I sent the proposal to Secret Society Girl to my agent, I called it a YA novel. My agent in her infinite wisdom said, “Hey, I bet an adult house would really go for this.” And they did.One of the reasons writers need agents is that agents can sometimes see better ways to position a book than a writer can. It’s their job to do so. And sometimes, what is a YA novel in one market is not a YA novel in another. The Curious Instance of the Dog in the Night-time is a YA novel in the UK and an adult novel here. There are other books that are vice versa (like the Book Thief).
Here’s a short list of best selling, award winning, and critically acclaimed YA novels that have come out recently that, according to articles or blog entries I’ve read about their inception, either began life as adult novels in the writer’s brain or were originally marketed as adult novels before being sold or marketed as YA novels: The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare, Ballads of Suburbia by Stephanie Kuehnert, Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr, Madapple by Christina Meldrun, Graceling by Kristin Cashore, The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak, Tales of the Madman Underground by John Barnes (ETA: Shadowed Summer, by Saundra Mitchell)…. guys, the list goes on and on.
And what you take away from this is that sometimes, what “the market” is is only definable by what one particular editor at one particular house decides he or she wants to pay money for. We’ve all read books where we thought, “What brain donor paid money for THIS?” Heck, we’ve all read bestsellers where we thought that. But someone holding a checkbook thought it was marketable, and they were right. Which shows what I know.
I repeat: If you’ve written and polished the book, what a bunch of writers think about its marketability is not important. Submitting it is the only way you can get a real answer.
But, you may ask, how can I submit it without knowing where exactly it fits in the market? But that’s the best part! You can submit it to both places! You might be scared, because you’ve read agent blogs where they complain about having completely inappropriate work submitted to them (Vietnam-era sex memoirs to a YA agent) — but your situation doesn’t apply. In good faith you are submitting to a YA agent a book that you think is a YA novel. She might agree with you. She might not. In good faith you are submitting to an adult agent a book that you think is an adult novel. He might agree with you. He might not. It’s no different than you submitting this book believing that it’s the best book ever — they might agree with you, they might not. And what do you do if the agent reps both kinds of books?
“Dear Agent, I am seeking representation for my book TITLE, which is a blankety-blank thousand word novel about blah blah blah.”
Yes, if you are CERTAIN that you are writing a young adult contemporary fantasy adventure or a hard sci fi space book or a cookbook, or a memoir, or a memoir about a cookbook, then say that. But if you aren’t, there’s no rule saying you have to. To start with, an agent might disagree with you (mine did). Also, if you put yourself in a box from the beginning, an agent’s thought process might not even get so far as to disagree with you — he or she might just say, “Oh, I don’t think this works as a YA — reject.” But there’s no rule that says you have to check every single little box about your novel before you submit it. It’s okay to say “a novel” and let the agent decide that it’s a paranormal historical romance.
The important thing to remember is not to take yourself out of the game. Don’t avoid submitting a finished, polished novel because some writer who has no ability to pay you any money for said novel has told you a priori that it’s unmarketable. And if you get a bunch of rejections from YA agents or houses saying this isn’t a YA novel, then maybe look on the bright side of that — perhaps it’s an adult novel. Try submitting it there.
ETA: I’m bringing up Julie Leto’s comment here because it’s just so darn good:
“It kind of perplexes me when writers will come up with a thousand and one excuses for not actually submitting their work. Rejection doesn’t kill. All successful authors have had their share of rejections. If JK Rowling had worried about marketability, she never would have found a publisher for Harry Potter.
“I think some writers become so obsessed with getting it all “right” (to that dreaded rejection) that they make elemental mistakes. There’s one thing to research the market…but it’s quite another to use the market as an excuse not to submit.”
This is so true. When it gets to the point that you’re just asking a bunch of other writers for their opinion about something you haven’t submitted — this is different than “can you crit my work, can you help me with my query” — then what you’re really doing is called stalling.
Accept the fact that you WILL get rejections. EVERYONE gets rejections. You have to learn to accept rejections, because let me tell you, the number of rejections you get before a book sells? NOTHING compared to the number you get after a book sells. Afterward, you get rejectiosn from: 1) foreign markets, 2) Hollywood, 3) Any media outlet who passes on doing a story on your book, 4) Bloggers 5) random people on the internet with Goodreads, Twitter, and Amazon accounts, 6) and every single person in the world who does not buy or read your book. Get used to it now. Accept the fact that every rejection is nothing more than one person’s opinion. There could be 99 agents who tell you your work isn’t marketable, and one agent who says, “I can sell this to an editor with a checkbook” and does. Whose opinion matters there?
I’ve recently been watching a lot of old Spencer Tracy/Katharine Hepburn films. I adore Katharine Hepburn films, with or without her real-life love, Tracy. The African Queen, Phiadelphia, The Lion in Winter — Hepburn is a presence — regal, clever, riveting. (In fact, I think the only film of hers I don’t like is Bringing Up Baby, in which she plays a ditz, albeit a secretly clever one.) And in her romances with Tracy, I have noticed a common theme: Tracy’s character is usually quite explicitly attracted to her character because of her intelligence. In Woman of the Year, he does not want her to be a housewife — he wants her to be her high-powered, world-changing self, just with a little more consideration for him and their life together. In Desk Set, there’s that marvelous scene on the roof where you can actually see Tracy’s computer programmer falling head over heels for Hepburn’s research librarian as she nails every trick question he asks her.
It’s rare to see this trope in romantic films, but I love it. This probably comes as no surprise to anyone who knows me or has read my books. I tend to write characters whose intelligence is very important to them, and who would rather be valued for their brains than anything else. Nothing makes Amy more angry than to be called stupid. Nothing makes Astrid more frustrated than to be told that knowledge and intelligence won’t help her. And when these girls find love, part of the way they can tell is that the person who loves them is really attracted to their smarts.
I was struck by this, watching a Hepburn/Tracy the other day, that it’s not something you see so often in films or stories these days. For all the talk of “strong female characters,” they seem to focus on physical strength. I think a lot of romances fail because there isn’t that THING where the audience recognizes why character A is utterly perfect for character B — but even when they succeed, when they have that THING, it’s very rarely, “Oh, baby, you’re so SMART.”
Long-time authors talk about author theme — or they used to; these days it’s all “brand brand brand.” Author theme is often described as something you find yourself writing about over and over again, even subconsciously, regardless of what genre you’re writing in. It’s not often something you can recognize after a handful of books — you need to have a substantive body of work. (The authors I hear talking about it most have usually been in the biz for decades.) I know that my two series are feminist books — they deal deeply with modern women’s issues like sexism, sexuality, and the expectations and limitations placed on modern young women. (That they deal with them disguised as comedies and fantasies is my own little trick.) But that’s the nature of those series — even though it’s six books. I don’t think the book I’m working on now is like that, or the one-that-isn’t-Ascendant coming out in October. However, each of those books are still about women who are valued for their intelligence — and I was attracted to the latter project in large part for that reason. I don’t think this is necessarily an author theme, but I do think it’s clear that I have a “type.” I probably wouldn’t get too far if I tried to write about a ditz.
What movies or books have you read recently that present this kind of story? I want more!
I’m feeling good this morning. First of all, I have some great news to announce about the secret society girl series:
Turkish rights to Diana Peterfreund’s SECRET SOCIETY GIRL, UNDER THE ROSE, & RITES OF SPRING (BREAK), have sold to Artemis, by Whitney Lee of the Fielding Agency on behalf of Elaine Spencer at the Knight Agency.
Savvy readers will note that this little deal does not include Tap & Gown. Yet. Savvier readers will be just as excited as I was by the name of my new publisher. Seriously, how awesome is that?
Next bit of great news: both of my anthologies out this year (Kiss Me Deadly and Zombies vs. Unicorns) are coming out as audio books! I’m so excited! I’ve never had an audio version of one of my books before.
Next bit of great news: I’ve received some advanced reviews of ASCENDANT and they have made me all happy:
“Ascendant is a direct sequel to the super-awesome Rampant, which I actually really enjoyed. With Ascendant, the intros and exposition is pretty much out of the way so the book gets right on down to business. There is absolutely more sexual tension, more unicorns, more action, and a lot of moral dilemma. I loved it! What was so cool is how Peterfreund made her events grey areas. By this I mean things were taken out of a black and white context and given complexity and layers. I guess it’s awesome how we get to see two sides of a coin.
“I actually enjoyed Ascendant way more than Rampant. I thought Astrid really came into her own. Confession corner: After I finished I really had trouble finding a book to read. I mean, what’ll measure up to that kind of awesome?”
Cassandra Yorgey of examiner.com also snagged an advanced review copy of ASCENDANT at BEA, and reviews it (along with a plea for a third book) here:
“[A] prominent theme throughout Ascendant is how we treat animals. Animal conservation and medical testing are issues that Astrid is on the fence about. She struggles with these things, often bordering each side of the fence trying desperately to reconcile necessities with human decency. And even if you don’t care one whit about those things, there are still killer freaking unicorns, which is awesome socks no matter how you wrap it up.
“Ascendant is one of those sequels that is so good I actually convinced myself it was part of a trilogy, even though there is in fact no third book under contract.”
Also on the rampage about the scheduling of the third book, we have Miss Havoc of Cry Havoc reviews, who was apparently so devastated by my 140-word tweeted reply to her about not having a third book under contract yet that she actually KNOCKED A STAR off her review of ASCENDANT ::sniff:: and prompted a few emails into my inbox on the matter:
“First I just want to rant a little about how there ISN’T GOING TO BE A THIRD BOOK! At least not anytime soon. Which really upset me ’cause I love me some Killer Unicorns! That also had to bring Ascendant down to a 4 star, because if this is how it ends…it just isn’t enough. I think we need to start a petition so that we can get some more Killer Unicorns!
“OK, on to the review! Loved it! Want to give it 5 stars.”
Since I’ve gotten enough emails/twitters/blog discussions/random assumptions on the subject, I feel I should make what is as formal a statement as I can make at this time, namely: I would like to write a third killer unicorn book, and I currently have a two book contract with Harper Collins to write more YA books. The first book in this contract, which I am working on now and will be out in 2011, is a post-apocalyptic retelling of Jane Austen’s Persuasion. The second book (which will probably be a 2012 release) is undecided as of yet. It may be killer unicorns #3. It may not.
No one is the “bad guy” here. I am not holding killer unicorn stories for ransom (I have three coming out this year!). Additionally, Harper Teen is hugely in support of Rampant and Ascendant. Rampant will be out in paperback this fall (for the low, low price of $8.99), along with the hardcover of Ascendant, which was featured prominently at BEA and is going to be featured prominently again at ALA this weekend. We also have a lot of cool promotional things planned for the fall.
So, to answer the questions I keep getting about what you can do to make sure there is a third unicorn book, all I can say is, tell your friends about Rampant. Tell your local bookseller to stock it. Tell your local librarian to order a copy for her collection. Buy a copy of the paperback (for the low, low price of $8.99) when it comes out this fall. And just be patient, and we can revisit this issue in six to eight months. Think of this like a TV show. I don’t know if I’m “renewed” — I’m still mid-season! (And yes, I am aware of what my options are, one of them being that I’ve got a blank book under contract.)
“But, are the myths true? Are the unicorns all blood hungry, savage beasts? What about the people who are searching for the remedy, the cure for all disease? Who do you trust when those you want to trust have motives that don’t match yours? Were there nunneries filled with women warriors dating from the time of Diana who could keep the world safe from harm? Wouldn’t it be cool if there were a reason for them to still be viable? Man (and woman)-eating, not fluffy, no pink or purple manes or tales, unicorns; maybe not, huh?
“These books are really good. They are humorous and deal with a lot of the same questions that girls who aren’t unicorn hunters have to deal with. There is high romance, a little low romance, big questions about certain parts of life and how valuable these things can be, big adventure, strong and brave women. Good travel books, too, especially if you are on your way to Rome or France; good descriptions of the nightlife and tourist worlds. They are really good summer books. Ages 14 and up. (HarperTeen. $17.99. Rampant is available now, and Ascendant will be available in October! Ooh. October! Put it on your list, you’re going to want it when you’re done with Rampant.)”
W00T! I love booksellers who love killer unicorns.
And librarians. Seriously, this weekend at ALA, I must meet Betsy Bird (who apparently I know through two different degrees of separation?). Look what she had to say about ASCENDANT in her recent Harper fall 2010 preview:
“In an era of Zombies Vs. Unicorns, it seems appropriate that Diana Peterfreund’s killer unicorn book Rampant should get itself a sequel. Ascendant keeps up the fast pace of its predecessor and Peterfreund has been studying unicorn legends from around the world extensively for these books. Personally, I think Harper Collins is losing a huge opportunity with these covers. If you put a big, ugly, slavering unicorn with blood dripping from its mouth on the jacket, those copies will sell sell sell faster than you can print them up. Oh, and for those of you wondering what else Ms. Peterfreund has up her sleeve, I have five words for you: Post-apocalyptic retelling of Persuasion.”
Gotta say, Betsy, I too am disappointed they couldn’t squeeze a unicorn on that cover. But then again, prettyprettyAstridhair. It’s so hard to put everything that this book is on one cover. Maybe in a dozen years, when my series is recognized as a modern classic, I’ll get new gory covers. Then Roman ruin covers. Then chem lab covers. The possibilities are endless.
And to wrap this up (and then go pick up my car which is finally ready, yay!) I have this lovely review of RAMPANT from a livejournaler called hamsterwoman:
“You know how, in about 90% of my reviews, I will get to the main character and say, “I liked [him/her] OK” or “Him/her I was ‘meh’ on”? Well, ha! Because I freaking LOVE Astrid Llewelyn. She is easily my favorite character in the book, my favorite thing about the book (and I really liked the book), and there isn’t even any question about it. Astrid is awesome!
“Astrid is a real scientist in training. Not only is she interested in science and actively going after becoming a doctor (volunteering in the hospital) even though she is just 16, but she is believable in this role. She has a scientist’s mind, analyzing inputs and details even in high-stress situations — e.g. noticing [snipped for spoilers]. And she thinks in terms of behaviour patterns and hypotheses, and she resents unscientific ideas, like that particular skills run in families, and is frustrated by the others’ reluctance to try an examine the unscientific but apparently true effects scientifically. And she stages actual scientific experiments with her fellow hunters, and uses words like “ambient unicorn influence.” (In retrospect, even at the very beginning her thoughts on her relationship with the douchy boyfriend feel kind of scientist-like — she is trying to maximize the benefits of dating him while minimizing how much groping she lets him get away with.
“I can’t readily express how awesome I find this, but it is. I’ve seen/read quite a few attempts to portray young geeks/science types, and so many of them end up feeling like caricatures to me or like shallow “my nerdness is pasted on” decals, or like someone’s fairly uninformed idea of what would-be scientists are like. And there’s none of that here — Astrid’s the real thing. She thinks and acts and argues in ways that are familiar and true to me. People talk about having different kinds of female heroines for girls to identify with, and there are tomboy types and girly girls and girls out to prove things to the world and girls looking to find themselves and to learn the meaning of love and friendship or whatever, but I don’t think I’ve actually encountered a female heroine before that I could identify with as closely as with Astrid. There have been plenty that I wanted to be like or think I was like, but for sheer identification, yeah, Astrid is pretty much it. And, yes, it’s quite nice to have that, even as an adult.”
I really need to start printing these babies out and pasting them up on my wall or something for those days when I feel like I suck and can’t write consistent characterization to save my life. Because one of Astrid’s core conflicts is trying to resolve the science that she knows is true with the magic that she must, as an astute observer, recognize. I hope with Ascendant that I’ve successfully evolved that inner struggle and kept Astrid a scientist, even if she happens to be a magical one. (I think Cassandra thinks I did.)
And now I’m going to shut up before I start in with the spoilers…
And, in the interest of being honest here… guys, it’s a little spoilery. Fortunately, it’s one of those covers where you won’t actually realize what’s spoilery about it until you read the book. So, win-win. I also think it looks totally awesome alongside the cover of Rampant. Check out the pretty pretty set (collect all two!)
So that’s nice.
You may note that the Ascendant cover is much brighter than the Rampant cover. That was done on purpose because the Rampant cover, as it will appear in paperback this fall, is actually going to be brighter as well (same images, just brighter), so they wanted them to match.
And can I just say that I totally covet this Astrid-model’s hair? And I do like that the hair is so RIGHT here. You wouldn’t believe the flack an author gets if her character’s cover hair is not exactly the way she describes it in the book. (Yes, I know Amy’s hair is shorter than the cover models’. Did that really destroy your reading experience?)
Speaking of, the stats: the “Astrid” on this cover is from a Harper photo shoot, the sword is stock photo. Personally, I have nothing against stock photos. My favorite covers (Rites of Spring Break and Rampant) are both entirely stock photorific. And I think that they do an excellent job capturing the “feel” of the book. The Astrid on the cover of Rampant looks determined and ready to fight. The Astrid on the cover of Ascendant looks conflicted and contemplative.
And here are some tidbits from the back:
“Ascendant is fast-paced, fresh, and engrossing –plus it has killer unicorns; what could be better? I love this book!” — Carrie Ryan, New York Times bestselling author of The Forest of Hands and Teeth and The Dead Tossed Waves.
“I was riveted by Ascendant. It’s not only about killer unicorns, it’s also about finding the courage to make tough decisions — and to be true to yourself. I think Astrid rocks!” — Malinda Lo, author of Ash.
So there you have it folks. Mark your calendars and let the countdown begin.
Oh, who am I kidding? Why wait? Read Ascendant NOW by taking part in this ARC giveaway I just announced RIGHT NOW. And in order to enter this giveaway (as decreed by Sailor Boy, who apparently likes his giveaway entry challenges more challenging than I do), all you have to do is leave a work of 6-word fiction here in the comments section of this post.
What is six word fiction? Here are some examples. Fun, huh? Okay, have at it Contest open internationally and through the weekend.
Ooh, pretty. And look how thick it is! That’s one hundred and eight thousand words of killer unicorns, Astrid’s inner struggle, romance, and both unbearably ugly and heart-stoppingly pretty frocks, people.
(Yes, I figured it was about time that I wrote a book with a pretty frock in it. I love pretty frocks myself, and somehow I got through four secret society girl books having barely dressed Amy in anything but jeans and swimsuits and hooded robes. So, sorry for the spoiler, but there’s one heck of a frock in this book. I mean, not like Luxe-book-cover frock, but right up there.)
So, a few caveats. I know this is the cover that has been floating around the internet. However, this is not the cover of the novel. This is the ARC cover. You can tell it’s not the real cover, because of the incredibly lo-res, massively pixelated, not-even-neatly-cut-out-from-the-original-image sword they smacked on there as a placeholder. Observe:
I’m honestly surprised that none of the people who have been (sometimes repeatedly) posting this image around the internet and calling it my cover has noticed this. And that only two people have actually emailed me and said, “I heard this was your cover, but I assume there’s a reason you yourself have never posted it/I’m sure Harper would never give you such a bad photoshopping job/what’s up with that, can you confirm?” (Thank you, people. You know who you are.)
Sometimes, cover designers make what they call a “comp” (for composite) which means they put together a bunch of images in a rough collage to show the editorial and marketing teams what they would like the cover to look like. That’s what this is: a comp. If they don’t have the final cover done in time for the ARC printings, the comp is what goes in the catalog (a sales tool for booksellers) and on the ARC (yet another sales tool).
The comp of the original Rampant cover was what went on the ARC of Rampant. It differed significantly in layout and font from the final (original) Rampant cover, and then the concept was scrapped entirely for what appeared on the hardcover when it finally came out. As you can see, this concept is in keeping with the Rampant hardcover, and I assume that the final Ascendant cover will look pretty close to this. (Crosses fingers the upcoming photo shoot goes well.) Which makes me happy, because I think it very much captures Astrid’s inner life in this book.
(It does not so much capture Astrid’s outer weapons usage. She barely picks up a sword in this book, except once when she is [SPOILER REDACTED] and then again, when she wields it against [HUGE FREAKING SPOILER REDACTED]. She’s all over the bows and knives though, and she even kills a unicorn with a [OMG SPOILER REDACTED SO MUCH]. However, I think it works really nicely with the series “look” and there’s more room to insert a unicorn than there would be on a bow. Also… well, I made up the alicorn knife. Kind of hard for someone to get a real picture of it.)
But enough about the non-cover! I’m sure what you all are really interested in is the inside! Here’s the back cover copy:
Now a fully trained unicorn hunter, Astrid Llewelyn is learning that she can’t solve all her problems with a bow and arrow. Her boyfriend has left Rome, the Cloisters is in dire financial straits, her best friend’s powers are mysteriously disintegrating, and her hope of becoming a scientist seems to be nothing but an impossible dream.
So when she’s given the opportunity to leave the Cloisters and use her skills as part of a scientific quest to discover the Remedy, Astrid leaps at the chance. Finally, she can have exactly what she wants—or can she? At Gordian headquarters deep in France, Astrid begins to question everything she had believed: her love for Giovanni, her loyalty to the Cloisters, and—most of all—her duty as a hunter. Should Astrid be saving the world from killer unicorns or saving unicorns from the world?
And here are a few randomly-generated, hopefully spoiler-free phrases from within the pages of this, my sixth published novel:
“The real Clothilde Llewelyn had been scarred and dirty, with blood-soaked hands and arms that looked like ragged ropes of muscle.”
“Ooh, would you? We’d make prime time!”
“A unicorn-hunting decoy.”
“Where’s my wannabe doctor cousin?”
“You told me you hardly ever see him.”
“Did einhorns hibernate like bears?”
“The green shaft of Melissende’s arrow still jutted from its side.”
“The first touch of their magic was like a cool breeze in the midst of a heat wave.”
“Six seconds. Six seconds too many.”
“All the women in my family are strong.”
Enough of that. I’m sure what you really want to know is how to get your hands on one of these beauties. Well, I know I’ve already promised some to a few of you (there was a contest a few months back…). And then I also know I”ll be signing copies at some upcoming bookish events, like BEA and ALA. And I’m still trying to plan out what I’ll do here, but it will be something, eventually.
On Thursday, I finally sat down and started work on my new book. See the word counter over there on the right? Pretty, pretty orange! Look at the way it creeps up on that vast swath of unwritten white!
So, despite the fact that until Thursday, I hadn’t written anything for the better part of a month, I don’t feel too bad. Because I have written over 70,000 words already this year. (Cf. the top word counter over there on the right — the one labeled MG — which is ALL ORANGE, plus “Errant” which never did get a word counter, and I don’t feel so bad about that.) And I did two rounds of revisions on the aforementioned MG.
(BTW, MG in this case does NOT stand for middle grade. People keep asking me that. Carrie asked me that, which I thought was especially weird, since she actually knows what it stands for.)
I’m still busy, though. I expect I’ll be getting some revisions on “Errant” and possibly a bit more work to be done on MG, not to mention the 1st pass of Ascendant that showed up here yesterday morning and is due at the end of the week. Like, today, before I can do any work on this new project (codename: PAP) I need to look into these first page proofs, put together a quick project proposal, and finish up the Rampant paperback extra content (yes, owners of the Rampant paperback get fantastic and exclusive extra content, including, but not limited to, an excerpt from Ascendant. Not to mention take Rio for a walk. Rio has been sorely neglected recently.
But I’m glad to have started PAP, and I’m really, really excited about the direction I’ve decided to take it in.
In other “life of the freelance writer” news, I really love getting surprise royalties. I say “surprise” because at this point in my career, most of my projects are just starting to earn out, so it’s still a new thing for me for royalty statements to come with checks attached. When I talk to writers who have been around for a lot longer than me, they do count their royalties as a larger and larger percentage of their income, and I know more than a few writers whose living expenses are entirely paid for by “evergreen” items on their backlists, which… wow, that just sounds like a dream come true.
Right now, the way I get to keep this job is by getting new work. I got two new contracts in January that will keep me employed for a while. As I said before, I have four all-new projects (two books, two short stories) coming out in 2010 (plus the Rampant paperback). And those are all parts of contracts that I signed anywhere from 2007 to 2010. In some cases, I was paid for those projects back in 2007. In other cases, I haven’t been paid yet.
I share this because I know there are a lot of writers and aspiring writers who read this blog, and they are curious about how the money part works. I think, in the beginning of your career, it’s important not to depend on royalties, and to really figure out WHEN you are going to get the various portions of your advance when you are planning out your work and your ability to go freelance.
For instance, say you have decided that your budget is $30k per year, and you can net $10k (i.e., after agent commission, taxes, and business expenses — or, just to make the math easy, let’s say we live in a world where those things don’t exist) for a book you wrote. So you think to yourself, “Easy, I’ll write three books.”
Au contraire, my friend.
Because you usually only get half of that advance upon signing a contract for those books (and some houses are going to thirds “upon signing”). So let’s say you do get a three book deal (in this magical world where there’s no agents, taxes, or business expenses) at $10k per book. You get the contract (anywhere from a few days to a few months later — and if you think I’m joking about the few months part, I know people who have waited a year on their contracts), and sign it and send it in and get your “upon signing check” — for $15k. Because 1/2(10k per book) x three books = $15,000.
Then, if you’re lucky, the D&A (delivery and acceptance) date for the first book is that same year (again, I know writers who get their D&A at the same time as their on signing check, because of contract delays), for what is sneaking into a lot of contracts lately, which is 1/4 of the remaining advance (and then another fourth on actual publication). So there’s $2,500.
So your total for year one of selling a three book deal for $10k per book is: $17,500.
In year two, you turn in book two, and see the publication of book 1. Total payments: $5000.
In year three, the same, for publishing book 2 and writing book 3: $5,000
In year four, you get your last little “on publication” check: $2,500.
And if you’re lucky, you do earn out right away and get royalties. But you can’t really count on that. And you never know when the earn out’s going to happen. It might happen right away. It might take four years. It might never happen.* So your $30,000 book deal takes four years to pay out.
You can also be lucky and get a compressed publication schedule, where they put all your books out the same year. But that’s pretty much up to the publisher to decide. and if that happens, what will also likely happen is that the publication of your first book is pushed WAY back in the schedule to give you time to write book 2 and 3. Whereas usually you might only have 12 months between D&A and publication, it might be 18 or 24 for book 1, and then only 14 for book 2 and 8 for book 3.
Oh, and you can’t cheat the system and “write quick.” So if your publisher has said that the D&A date for Book 1 is January 1, 2011, and then 1/1/12 for book 2 and 1/1/13 for book three, you can’t turn them all in in 2011 and expect to get paid for all of them. That’s why it’s D *and* A — they have to accept it. And they usually won’t until they are contracted to.
And there are other ways to make up the difference, for instance:
write and sell something else to make up the difference.
make more money from the things you sell (getting higher advances, selling subsidary rights, charging speaker fees to talk about the work).
have an alternate income from old projects (this is where those royalties come in handy, or putting your out of print backlist on kindle).
have another job.
be of independent means.
Some of these things are easier to control than others. Most writers I know manage by mixing up all of the above. And sometimes you don’t even know they are doing it. That writer you know who has two books out a year? You don’t know if she’s ghost writing on the side, or doing copywriting or other freelance work that her name isn’t attached to.
You don’t know if I’m doing that.
______________
* Please note: If it never happens, you do NOT have to pay the publisher back. That is a myth. Also, it does NOT mean that you will never again get another contract. Also a myth.
The reason I haven’t blogged much this week is that I’m sick. I hate being sick. Hate hate hate. So when I’m sick, on top of feeling like crap, I’m in a pretty poisonous mood. At which point, it’s usually better that I just stay off my blog. Either that or share with you some real ranty mcrant-rants.
Don’t worry, I’ve spared you.
So what have I been up to? I’ve been reading. RITA entries and Golden Heart entries, mostly. I’ve been watching old romantic comedies on DVD. French Kiss is better than I remember it being. Overboard is not. I think it’s possible I’m just much more creeped out by the slavery aspects in the latter than I was when I saw it a long time ago.
I’ve also been reading many fascinating things on the internet. And I’m here to share them with you.
Justine Larbalestier’s blog vacation has made for some truly amazing guest posts. One of my favorites is the fabulous Lauren McLaughlin on how having a baby made her look at her fiction-writing in a totally new way. I really love the way Lauren is always so honest and forthright about her development as an artist. I think there are a lot of writers out there that feed into the myth that they popped out of the box full-formed, but that’s not the case, and reading articles like Lauren’s inspire me to talk more about my development as a writer. It’s also an interesting post because I always read the Cycler character of Ramie as being a person of color. (I see Filipino, actually — anyone else?)
My other favorite Larbalesti-guest post is from my newest object of professional-crushdom, Varian Johnson, on time management. Have I mentioned how Varian, upon hearing that we’d be at the same conference, brought me a bookstore newsletter that had an article about me all the way from Austin? As if I wasn’t already crushing on him because of the awesomeness that was My Life as a Rhombus. To wit: Varian’s books rock, and so does Varian. And so does Varian’s post on how he manages to be a civil engineer and a writing professor AND a writer AND help his (drop-dead gorgeous–I met her at the aforementioned conference) wife pick out granite countertops on the weekend. And here I am with a messy house, a fridge full of chicken soup and jello, and no other job but writing. I feel like such a slacker.
Speaking of the hard-working and prolific, another blog post I liked a lot recently was Lauren Baratz-Logsted’s take on the hated prologue on the Red Room. Lauren writes in half a dozen genres (at last count) and is as big a fan of the prologue as I am (her prologue count is 10/14, mine is 5/6). The prevailing opinion, however, is that one shouldn’t write prologues. Poppycock. What one should not write, under any circumstances, are bad beginnings, whether it’s labeled prologue, chapter 1, or nothing at all. (My prologues are rarely longer than a page, and are never labeled prologues.) For me, the prologues in my books that have prologues are all about setting a theme for exploration in the book, much like an epigraph of my own design.(Indeed, my only book that doesn’t have a prologue has an epigraph. So there.)
And, speaking of writing advice, a massive depository of such can be found in these two articles in the Guardian. It was interesting to read Elmore Leonard’s, which I either don’t agree with or disregard (perhaps to my detriment), especially given how much I always loved the advice I heard was his of “leave out the parts people skip.” However, apparently he wasn’t saying what I thought he was. I thought, you know, the boring bits. He thought, long paragraphs. Huh. I do like Roddy Doyle’s advice to give your work a name as soon as possible. I always find I work much better once I have a working title. It crystallizes my theme. Also, Geoff Dyer’s:
“Beware of clichés. Not just the clichés that Martin Amis is at war with. There are clichés of response as well as expression. There are clichés of observation and of thought – even of conception. Many novels, even quite a few adequately written ones, are clichés of form which conform to clichés of expectation.”
Which I think is very important for especially genre writers to remember. So often we fall into the trap of doing something because we believe (erroneously) that it’s expected by the readers. Have characters make the unexpected choice, have the unexpected reaction. Surprise the reader.
Richard Ford says, “Marry somebody you love and who thinks you being a writer’s a good idea.” That was probably one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, so I’m right there with Ford. Sailor Boy has thought I should be a writer from the word go. He bought me tickets to my first writing conference. He’s always been one of my biggest supporters. In fact, I was on the phone with him today about a new direction in my career, and he was really pushing me forward. I’m extremely fortunate.
Hilary Mantel advises: “Write a book you’d like to read. If you wouldn’t read it, why would anybody else? Don’t write for a perceived audience or market. It may well have vanished by the time your book’s ready.” So true. I was doing an interview recently, which asked what I’d write if I didn’t have to worry about money. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be offended by that question. Because the answer is the same damn stuff I’m writing now. I write books I want to write, and books I’d like to read, and I always expect that I’m not the only one who feels that way. Yes, I get paid for projects, but I’ve also turned things down that were worth good money because I didn’t want to write them. I think you can feel that sort of thing in the writing. Write for yourself, and the rest will fall in line.
I also love everything Jeannette Winterson says. There’s a lot of good advice in these articles, and a lot I think is ehhhh, but, you know what they say about opinions.
What else have I been reading? Well, there’s this laughable suit going on against JK Rowling. Man, people will do anything for a buck, I think. And PublishAmerica, a vanity publishing house, is now telling their authors that they will submit their supposedly good-as-the-big-guys “published” book to Random House, because (this is my favorite part): “Every writer dreams about becoming a published author. Once they have reached that goal, as you have, many dream of the next step up: to become a Random House author. Random House is one of the most prestigious publishing names. Their extensive operation a few miles from our own headquarters makes them virtual neighbors.”
So apparently every published author’s dream is to become a Random House author? (Disclaimer: I actually am a Random House author, and happy about it.) But I know lots of writers who are perfectly happy not being Random House authors and, when given the choice, chose not to become Random House authors in favor of better contract terms at, say, Penguin or Little, Brown. The whole letter is worth reading for entertainment value though. In passing, last I heard, PA was in Frederick, Maryland. Random House is located on Broadway, in New York City. This “extensive operation a few miles” away the letter is talking about is actually a Random House distribution warehouse in Westminster (yay, Google Maps). Hint: they don’t acquire manuscripts there. I feel sorry for the RH mailroom clerks who are going to have to deal with this influx of bound slush from PA.
And, last but not least, I enjoyed this blog post by author Kate Douglas on the challenges of breaking into a new genre, and how to stay published, even when you’re being published very well.
“Recently I’ve read a few books where a character is introduced a few chapters into the story and the narrator/main character describes her as “black” or “Asian” or “Hispanic.” It always jolts me because the rest of the characters in the book are not described as “white,” but it is assumed as a reader I know they are. Now if by saying a character has blue eyes and red hair the author figures I’ll know the character is white, why can’t he/she just say something like “her eyes were as brown as her skin” to describe someone who is black? It just comes across that the author assumes his/her readers are white. Does this bother anyone else? Am I being overly sensitive? For the record, I’m white.”
There have been several posts recently about the issue of describing race in novels, with the general complaint being that if a character is described as “black” or “Asian” or etc. then why aren’t white characters described as white?
“Doing good descriptions is hard, because you have to choose which facts are relevant to mention. How people *interpret* these facts–well, that’s another matter entirely. But when you write something, you have to have SOME sense of what impact your words are going to mean. That is pretty much the job description. Those descriptions are code–they should tell you something about the character, something aside from what’s there, flat, on the page.”
“When the characters, plot, or setting requires an author to define race, how does he or she accomplish this? Is there a “Korean kid” or a “black girl”? The problem is that socially constructed race words like African American, black, Asian American, and Latina are typically used only for characters who aren’t of European descent. North American authors conventionally don’t use “European American” or “white” to describe characters because to label every character’s race makes reading tedious. Why use any such labels at all, then? The best answer is because it made sense for a particular character or a first-person narrator to label people with those terms.
“If labels aren’t used, but you know a character is nonwhite, ask yourself and your students how the author communicated that fact. Check for tired food-related clichés about “coffee-colored” skin or “almond-shaped” eyes versus fresh, bold attempts to delineate race and culture in a story.”
And this is pretty much how I’ve gone about it. I’m sure it says something about me as a reader that despite living in a very multicultural world, I’m going to assume a character is white unless told otherwise (by the cover, the character themselves, or a description). Of course, there are exceptions — for instance, if I’m reading a novel about a prince in medieval Japan, I’m going to assume his ethnicity is, you know, Japanese. And it changes, too. If I’d picked up a novel a few years ago about the daughter of the President of the USA, I’d picture someone who looked like one of the Bush girls. Now, I’d picture one of the Obama girls. And that’s because my head goes to the “president’s daughter” file in my brain and the first picture that pops up is the REAL president’s daughters.
Or maybe Zoe Bartlett.
In SSG, the characters’ races/ethnicities/minority status were very much part of the story, as sometimes they were selected for the society to fulfill certain token spots. Rose & Grave needed the gay black member, the male Asian-American member, the Muslim Middle-Eastern member, the Jewish member. The narrator Amy, who is white, is also more likely to think of someone’s race if it’s a race different from her own.
In Rampant, the characters’ nationalities actually took precedence over their races, but it also didn’t make sense to me, knowing as I did that Alexander the Great started out from the eastern edge of Europe and moved east across the Middle East and Asia, and then the three thousand years of history that followed, that all the characters would be white. Most readers (rightly) assumed that Grace Bo, from Singapore (and an Asian hunting line), was of Asian descent. Funny story about Grace: in college, I wrote a short story about a girl named Grace (no last name) who was in medical school, and EVERY SINGLE PERSON who read it assumed (wrongly) that the short story Grace was Asian-American, probably because most of the people we knew who had names like Grace and were studying to be doctors were in fact Asian American. So maybe that contributed to my thought process when naming Grace Bo Grace. Well, that and the fact that Grace under pressure is the big discovery that character makes in Rampant. Readers also probably picked up on the fact that Ilesha, from India, was Southeast Asian, and knowing that Valerija comes from eastern Europe is enough to get a picture of her appearance in your head.
But this isn’t always the case. Despite quite explicitly describing the French hunter Zelda as having dark black skin, there were readers who translated that as “dark black hair” and I sometimes wonder if I made a mistake not being specific in my descriptions of Giovanni. Yes, he’s half-Italian, half-American. But when you picture Giovanni, do you see this?
Because that’s what he looks like. And though Astrid describes him in detail, she never specifically says he’s black. And a lot of readers have taken her descriptions of dark skin and curly, close cropped hair as being indicative of white Italians. I know many white Italians who have, for white people, “dark” skin and dark curly or wavy hair. My brother, for instance, who is practically as Italian as Giovanni.
I did not get the dark skin and hair in the genetic lottery. I REALLY did not get the curly hair. But I digress.
Anyway, I don’t know what the right answer is, and it’s one I’m going to revisit in every book, because I’m going to continue to write characters of many different ethnicities. In my experience, I think the possible danger of throwing a reader out of the story by explicitly describing a character’s race like the question on Daphne’s blog is probably a fair price to pay for making sure that your readers know the race of the character. YMMV.
Another challenge would be to describe the character’s race in a time when the words we use don’t mean anything. How would a character in, say, Carrie Ryan’s books describe people of different races? They don’t even believe in the ocean in that book. Do they believe in continents like Asia and Africa? You’re not Asian-American if there’s no America, if no one knows what happened to Asia.
The following post has spoilers for RAMPANT. If you haven’t read RAMPANT, consider yourself warned.
Yesterday, I discovered a review of Rampant online. Which pretty much makes it a day ending in -y, but this one had me on the verge of hysterics. I love reviews that make me look at my own work in a new way, and this one made me look at it in a way that was simultaneously off the wall and yet, made a lot of sense.
Here’s the part that had me and Sailor Boy laughing our butts off:
And oh yes, the tall mysterious stranger who regularly saves Astrid’s life, spouts meaningful broody comments about her destiny and is possibly flirting with her? The if-this-was-Buffy-he-would-be-Angel character? It’s a unicorn.
Now, my pal Sarah Rees Brennan has long advocated for an Astrid-hearts-Bucephalus love story, and I have long advocated that she should seek professional counseling on this matter, but I never put together the reason that she feels this is so right and true — and now I do. It’s because, in the story, Bucephalus’s role is the one usually filled by the wiser/more cynical/world-weary/advisor dude who totally has the hots (or vice versa, or mutual) for our naive heroine. Think Han Solo and the virginal, white-clad Leia. Think the Goblin King Jared and all the advantage he tries to take of the nubile Jennifer Connolly (man, that movie is disturbing. The more I think about it, the more disturbing it gets.) Aragorn and Eowyn. Buffy and Angel. Angel’s a few hundred years old and he spends the entirety of the first season ridiculing, reluctantly saving/assisting, advising, and blowing off Buffy (my favorite line of the series might be when Xander, by far a more noble character, is basically like, WTF, really?), and, also, he wants to get in her pants.
You see, boy heroes in fantasy get elderly wizard-types who are conveniently killed by the enemy. Girl heroes get sardonic older-but-sexy types who want to sleep with them.
So that’s interesting.
Ways that Bucephalus is like Angel:
Knows more about heroine’s powers than she does
Knows more about heroine’s enemies than she does
Has been secretly watching over heroine
Is older and more experienced than the heroine (bonus points for WAY older)
Possesses more than a little cynicism and world-weariness
Is not entirely trustworthy to heroine, not least because
Is someone that the heroine should, by rights, be killing.
Ways in which Bucephalus is nothing like Angel:
Does not want to have sex with the heroine.
Is not seeking redemption in any way.
And the redemption, to be honest, is pretty Angel-specific (or, hell, let’s say vampire specific, as another dozen examples pop into my head). Lord knows David Bowie’s not looking for any of that nonsense, and Han Solo is pretty much dragged kicking and screaming into the whole rebellion thing. So, aside from the sex, we’ve got ourselves a character type. A type that does not actually map to “large venomous bovid species” so much as “hot dude in tight pants.”
Sarah, everything makes so much more SENSE now!
And yet… no. There will be no hot hot hot Astrid/Bucephalus action in Ascendant.
Dmitri and Rose. Bill and Sookie. Eric and Sookie. Poor Sookie!
But I wonder how much our reactions as an audience are mapped out for us by these stock character roles. I remember watching Avatar: The Last Airbender (really hate that I have to specify lately) and waiting and waiting and waiting for the episode where Iroh dies. You know, because he’s the elderly wizard-like advisor who is coaxing Zuko back toward the side of good. And then, when he doesn’t (ironically, the actor voicing him did), being really shocked. Not really knowing what to make of it. You see, I’d had him written off as Merlin/Gandalf/Obi-Wan/Dumbledore. And he wasn’t.
So maybe Sarah’s theories about Bucephalus as tortured romantic hero weren’t — as I always accused her — a product of her unique and uncanny ability to latch on the most unlikely romantic pairing in any work of literature to great comic effect, but rather a reflection of our indoctrination into this trope of fantasy fiction — the sardonic older protector who takes the pretty young thing under his wing (or hoof, as the case may be) and is hella sexy to boot.
Poe and Amy. Yowza. And that’s not even fantasy.
And there’s a lot to be said here on the topic of why a (primarily female readership) is interested in this paradigm. Even if the women are strong, the men must be stronger? Does the girl have a special power? The men’s power has got to be bigger and better? He has to know more about it than she does? Is that true? I remember the guidelines for the old Silhouette Bombshell line of action-adventure romances. They were looking for strong heroines and heroes who were their match.
I wrote a book aimed at that market, about a very strong woman who owns a security company and hires an agent who doesn’t like to play by the rules. They fall in love. In the revision letter, I was told to cut her backstory (she started the company to avenge the kidnapping and death of her younger sister), make HIM the owner of the company, and have him hire her, who was to be reassigned a generic military background. Oh, and could I set it in South America instead of Europe? And dump the plot?
Suffice to say, I did not do those revisions. I’m not sure what kind of book they were looking for, but it clearly wasn’t the one I wrote. I offered to write them a different book. And what stuck with me most out of all the things they asked me to change was the way they wanted the power dynamic of the characters to switch. They didn’t want HER owning the company and hiring HIM (even though he was incredibly knowledgeable about both the business and the case they were on. (And therefore mapped pretty well to the paradigm.) He was as smart as she was, as good an agent as she was, as well trained in martial arts and use of weaponry as she was… (actually, he was an explosives expert).
It was many years later that I began writing Rampant, and from the beginning, I knew I had a very different romantic plan for Astrid. She’s strong, physically, and she’s very brave, and she has special powers, but the man for her is not the one who teaches her how to use a sword, or knows more about her magic than she does. Because I believe that strength can be complementary as well as corresponding. Giovanni strength is his normalcy. He’s a rock in her very unstable world. Which I suppose makes him the mirror of Bucephalus.
Seriously, this is all making sense to me now. I just thought that Irish dame was spouting nonsense.
I’ve recently been watching a lot of old Spencer Tracy/Katharine Hepburn films. I adore Katharine Hepburn films, with or without her real-life love, Tracy. The African Queen, Phiadelphia, The Lion in Winter — Hepburn is a presence — regal, clever, riveting. (In fact, I think the only film of hers I don’t like is Bringing Up Baby, in which she plays a ditz, albeit a secretly clever one.) And in her romances with Tracy, I have noticed a common theme: Tracy’s character is usually quite explicitly attracted to her character because of her intelligence. In Woman of the Year, he does not want her to be a housewife — he wants her to be her high-powered, world-changing self, just with a little more consideration for him and their life together. In Desk Set, there’s that marvelous scene on the roof where you can actually see Tracy’s computer programmer falling head over heels for Hepburn’s research librarian as she nails every trick question he asks her.
