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I saw this over at The Book Smugglers the other day and it looked like great fun!
1. What author do you own the most books by?
Hmmm, a quick glance at my bookshelves reveals quite a bit of: L.M. Montgomery, C.S. Lewis, J.K. Rowling (several copies of each, actually), Julie Leto, and Scott Westerfeld.
2. What book do you own the most copies of?
I collect the old, un-re-edited (no, Aslan does NOT destroy The Island Where Dreams Come True), un-re-ordered (#3, baybee!) copies of THE VOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADER. Also, my husband and I have an embarrassingly large number of copies of Aristotle left over from school.
3. What fictional character are you secretly in love with?
In high school I had the biggest crush on Finny from A SEPARATE PEACE. I also kinda fall for all the boys in my own books. I also discuss my unrequited love for Edmund Pevensie in Through the Wardrobe. I also swoon over Captain Wentworth in Persuasion. And everyone has heard me talk about my adoration for Logan Echolls (though that’s not books, it’s TV — and lately I was totally into Sokka from Avatar).
Recently, I’ve developed crushes on: Ravus, from Holly Black’s Valiant, Po, from Kristin Cashore’s Graceling, and Peeta, from Suzanne Collins’s The Hunger Games. Oh, and there’s a guy in Carrie Ryan’s Dead-Tossed Waves that I’m totally into, but I can’t tell you about that yet.
4. What book have you read more than any other?
That might also be The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Or possibly Anne of the Island. In college, it was definitely Frankenstein. I studied that baby in three different classes. Judging from the state of the paperback on my shelf (being held together with a rubber band), it’s A Girl of the Limberlost, in which I had zero crush on Philip, but was totally in love with Elnora.
5. What was your favorite book when you were ten years old?
I think we’re still going to go with The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. By the time I was fourteen I was obsessed with The Mists of Avalon, but amusingly, it has not held its charm for me over the years the way Voyage has.
6. What is the worst book you’ve read in the past year?
I actually didn’t finish it, so I don’t know if it counts as “reading.” But it was baaaaaaaad. I’m kinda shocked that it’s published, to tell the truth. But I think that’s how most people feel whenever they read a book which combines such crass lowest-common-denominator attempts at hitting commercial hot buttons with pedantic writing, flat characters, zero interest in realism and completely tone-deaf plotting. No, I will not tell you the name.
7. What is the best book you’ve read in the past year?
It’s not out yet, but it’s called LIAR, by Justine Larbalestier. Books that are out: The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins, and Watchmen, by Alan Moore.
 8. If you could tell everyone you tagged to read one book, what would it be?
The unabridged version of THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO by Alexandre Dumas (the Penguin Classics version, translated by Robin Buss).
9. What is the most difficult book you’ve ever read?
I slogged my way through quite a lot of crap in college, but I found that if it was actually “difficult” I tended not to read it. I found The Brother’s Karamazov unutterably painful and stopped reading it, which is too bad, since I positively loved Crime and Punishment. I have a very low tolerance for this whole “reading books should be like having a root canal” theory of modern literature. I’m fine with “books should be like vegetables” because I love vegetables, but if people tell me that something is difficult to read, I’m like, okay, let’s find something that’s really FUN to read, even if it’s challenging or etc. For instance, I know a lot of people who are intimidated by Clarissa because it’s so massive, but I adored all 1700 pages. That book consumed me. Also, though Borges is a really really “dense” writer and it takes a long time to wrap your brain around the concepts and words and language, I love reading him, too.
10. Do you prefer the French or the Russians?
I suppose the French, because of the aforementioned love of Dumas and hatred for The Brothers K, but I don’t think I’m particularly familiar with the panoply of French Literature (the only other French novels I can think of having read right now are Candide and The Red and the Black), whereas I have taken a class called The Russian Novel. So maybe the Russians, just based on familiarity? I don’t know. this question makes me embarrassed of my degree. Oh. Wait. I also read The Princess of Cleves. yeah, French. Unless we’re counting Nabokov as Russian and not American, in which case, I think Russian.
Clear as mud? Oui? Da?
11. Shakespeare, Milton or Chaucer?
Shakespeare is better performed than read. I loved Chaucer in high school, but that was 13 years ago. I’ve recently rediscovered Milton, though, and am loving it! Why isn’t Dante on this list? After all that French/Russian stuff in the last question, I’m finding this one very English-centric. Discounting Shakespeare (who was a playwright and not an epic poet, like the others), I’m going to say my favorite epic poet is Homer, and my favorite epic poem is the Odyssey.
I guess, though, if I”m going to be a purist about this question, I’m going with the order they are listed: Shakespeare, Milton, Chaucer.
 12. Austen or Eliot?
Austen. Weird question — you usually see it written “Austen or the Brontes” — and I must admit, I’ve never read any Eliot. Which book do you suggest I start with? (Persuasion is my favorite Austen, btw.)
13. What is the biggest or most embarrassing gap in your reading?
Modern literature. When that 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die book came out, I realized that I’d read almost all the pre-1700s works, most of the pre-1800, and a good segment of the pre 1900 — but almost none of the ones from the 20th century, and zero from the 21st. Though I found that list really unbalanced, and very biased towards Ian McEwan in general.
14. What is your favorite novel?
The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas. But for sheer comfort reading, I find myself turning time and again to The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Anne of the Island, The Girl of the LImberlost, The Phantom Tollbooth, Pride and Prejudice, and (for a good cathartic cry) Persuasion.
15. Play?
I’m a huge musicals fan. I love any musical, but specifically Les Miserables, Damn Yankees, West Side Story, Guys and Dolls… the list goes on and on. As for straight plays, I’m pretty partial to A Winter’s Tale. My husband tells me I’d love Lear if I saw it.
16. Poem?
I think we already covered The Odyssey, right? Catullus 101 is awesome, too. And 85. And Horace’s “To Chloe” (Most of my poetry study took place in Latin class). English poems, I like Poe. That’s no secret. My favorite of his poems is “The Bells.” I also like Donne.
17. Essay?
I’m sure I’m forgetting some absolutely smashing essays, but the one that comes immediately to mind is David Foster Wallace’s F/X Porn. Seriously, go read it now. Brilliance. I think DFW’s true strength as a writer was his essays. “Consider the Lobster” and “A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again” are regularly quoted from in my house.
19. Non Fiction
How to Cook Everything, by Mark Bittman. Though judging from the timing he gives on his roast chicken, it’s not entirely non-fiction.
20. Graphic Novel?
In college, I loved Maus. Does Transmetropolitan count as a novel or a series? I should really read more graphic novels. People tell me Sandman is great.
 21. Science Fiction?
Honestly? “Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius,” by Jorge Luis Borges. Though I’m not entirely sure that counts as SF. Solaris, by Stanislaw Lem does, and when I was in college, I wrote one of my favorite papers comparing the two stories. So I suppose you could make the argument. I also really enjoyed Speaker for the Dead by Orson Scott Card. And A Stranger in a Strange Land. And Brightness Falls from the Air. And Frankenstein. And the Uglies series by Scott Westerfeld. Pretty much anything by Susan Squires. Feed by M.T. Anderson. Wow, this list can go on and on…
I’d really love to write a science fiction novel one day. There are some science fiction elements in Rampant, but it’s rooted in fantasy/mythology/magic.
(In passing, I’m kinda obsessed with finding images of “my” copies of these books. I can’t find a picture of “my” Solaris on the internet, so instead, you get “my” Ficciones, which holds “my” copy of Tlon.)
22. Who is your favorite writer?
L.M. Montgomery. I can always sit down with one of her books or short stories and get swept away.
23. Who is the most over rated writer alive today?
Cormac McCarthy. Sorry, but there it is. I think my least favorite book of all time is All the Pretty Horses, and the way he was such a jerk about The Road and insisting that it wasn’t spec fic really pissed me off. That English dude they fawn over who is an admitted plagiarist of a romance novelist but-gosh-it-doesn’t-count-because-he-writes-lit-ur-a-ture-and-she’s-just-a-romance-novelist counts too. Wait, is that Ian McEwan again? Curious.
24. What are you reading right now?
Shadowed Summer, by Saundra Mitchell, The Raw Shark Texts, by Steven Hall, and an ARC of The Teashop Girls, by Laura Schaffer.
25. Best Memoir?
Kaffir Boy, by Mark Mathabane. That was one of the best books I read in high school.
26. Best History?
Gosh, you know? I don’t think I’ve read a history since Thucydides freshman year of college. Sad, huh?
27. Best Mystery or Noir?
I am finding these questions rather odd. They ask about mystery and SF but not fantasy or romance? Also, I realize that I don’t really read mystery. Thrillers, yes, but not mysteries. And though approximately 75% of the television shows are mystery, I don’t watch any of them. I watch no CSI or L&O or Bones or House or Monk anything that can be characterized as a procedural or mystery. Which is weird, since I loved loved loved loved loved Veronica Mars, which was, ostensibly, a mystery show. I mean, it was about a detective. I wonder why I loved that one so much when mystery usually leaves me cold?
Like, right now, I’m trying to watch Psych. I love Dule Hill, and it came highly recommended to me by Cassandra Clare when we were in Ireland. But I am just so bored by the mysteries. Every week, la-di-dah, where’s the dead body? Maybe that’s why I liked Veronica Mars so much — because the mystery-of-the-week was never really the focus. Not like the class struggles and her life falling apart and her relationship with her dead best friend and her father and her mother — and why, after all that was solved, I was never really as drawn to the show as I had been before. (Also, Veronica’s adversaries were usually moderately to very clever, and Sean and Gus’s adversaries are always displayed as being appallingly dumb.)
I am thus always surprised when someone characterizes one of my books as a mystery. To me, “whodunnit” — which is the central focus of any mystery — is never really the point as much as what they are doing, or why, or how knowing doesn’t really prevent the good guys from being able to stop them (again, thriller elements). Sometimes the POV characters know the identity of the bad guy, sometimes they don’t — but it doesn’t mean that they can solve the problem.
For instance, (whited out for Under the Rose spoilers) Amy suspects from very early on that Jenny is behind the problems in Under the Rose. She just can’t get anyone else on her side, because it’s so inconceivable to most of the other Diggers that one of their own might betray them. So the fact that it is, in fact, Jenny, is not supposed to be much of a surprise to the reader. After all, Amy’s been banging that drum for a hundred pages. What I was interested in talking about –alongside Amy’s growth as a person and a Rose & Grave member — is what led Jenny to that point, why she made the decisions she did, and how, underneath it all, she was really kind of a double agent, and actually helped uncover a bigger mystery that she didn’t know how to tell anyone about. What I discovered when the book came out is that the people who were reading for those things enjoyed the book, and the people who were reading it like a mystery novel, like the point of the book was to find out who was behind everything — well, they weren’t satisfied, because it was obvious it was Jenny.
Which is something I’m learning as a writer, that sometimes, people who don’t like a book don’t like it because they expected it to be a different book entirely, and there’s nothing you can do about that. Like, did anyone else notice that by the end of the run of Harry Potter, there were a lot of people who seemed to think that the sole purpose of each book was to kill someone off? And it was all, “Who dies in this one?” And then got all pissed off when the person or persons they expected to die in the last one didn’t die? And there were these roving bands of spoilers who would do drive bys of the lines outside bookshops and shout out the name of the dead person, or would go into chat on World of Warcraft and scream it?
What was up with those guys? Weren’t they reading for the cool fantasy world and the funny candies and the relationship between Harry and his friends and the epic storytelling?
But I digress. All of which is to say, I’m not very familiar with mysteries, and, as a genre, it’s not my cup of tea. I didn’t even read Nancy Drew or similar growing up. I was too busy memorizing The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, apparently.
Read an interesting article in The New York Times recently, about how modern technological devices jam long-revered literary ones. Missed connections (the letter about Juliet’s faked death that doesn’t reach Romeo in time) doesn’t work if both teens have cell phones.
The author of the article, a thriller writer named Matt Richtel says:
Technology is rendering obsolete some classic narrative plot devices: missed connections, miscommunications, the inability to reach someone. Such gimmicks don’t pass the smell test when even the most remote destinations have wireless coverage. (It’s Odysseus, can someone look up the way to Ithaca? Use the “no Sirens” route.)
Of what significance is the loss to storytelling if characters from Sherwood Forest to the Gates of Hell can be instantly, if not constantly, connected?
Plenty, and at least part of it is personal. I recently finished my second thriller, or so I thought. When I sent it to several fine writer friends, I received this feedback: the protagonist and his girlfriend can’t spend the whole book unable to get in touch with each other. Not in the cellphone era.
Then I started talking to fellow writers and discovered a brewing antagonism toward today’s communication gadgets.
(Ironically, RIchtel’s debut novel is about how “hooked” we are on digital technology. I guess he became a luddite sometime in between the two?)
He’s got a point. I was chatting with some author friends recently about the modern trend of rewriting fairy tales or other old stories, and how sometimes, getting them to work in a modern setting is very difficult.The other day, I was watching one of my favorite old movies, A LETTER TO THREE WIVES. In the film, three young wives are headed out to an island campground with a group of children when a telegram is delivered to them stating that a fourth “friend” of theirs has run away with one of their husbands. Which one? Their friend deigns to say. There’s an excellent shot of the three of them looking at the dock’s one lone pay phone before the boat pulls away. The women spend the rest of the day wondering, discussing, and fretting over whether or not each of their husbands will be there when they get home. If they had cell phones, there’d be no movie.
Of course, there are advantages to modern technology as well. I get a lot of dramatic mileage out of cell phones and emails in Under the Rose. Indeed, much of the plot hinges around the way that emails can be manipulated — a plot that woulnd’t have been able to exist if it were about, say, secret letters, instead. And in Rites of Spring (Break), when it was important that people not be able to communicate by cell phone every second*, I just made sure that their island was out of range of any convenient towers. (It happens. I was camping last summer and I coudln’t find the campground where I was supposed ot meet my friends, and the only place that got cell phone reception was a precarious roadside pull out on the top of a mountain. That was…not fun.)
All of which is to say that though there are some dramatic devices you lose with the advent of technology, there are some that you gain as well. Indeed, I think the tension is even raised in situations where you know that help *is* only a phone call away — if you can just get reception on your cell phone! And when you’ve got a girl like Amy, who is used to whipping out her cell phone at the first sign of trouble — and you take that away from her…
In Rampant, Astrid has no cell phone once she gets overseas. This was a conscious decision on my part and one that makes sense in the context of the story. Given her isolation in the nunnery and her mother’s finances, I saw no reason why either her mother or the people at the Cloisters would give her one. Her cousin, on the other hand, has a cell phone. Having just returned from overseas with nine other Americans, I noted that only one actually had a usuable cell phone. (Actually, maybe Maureen did, too.)
However, in KU2, which I’m writing now, she does have a cell phone. Things have changed with her situation and she’s got a greater degree of agency. With that, comes control of her own telecommunication. It’s a subtle shift, but an important one, as it definitely has an impact on the plot.
And now, changing gears to a land with no cell phones. This weekend, I’m doing a giveaway of the marvelous Beka Cooper series by Tamora Pierce! Since I know some of you have not read the first book yet, how this works is, if you win and have read Terrier, I’ll send you Bloodhound. If not, I’ll send you Terrier.
 
And all you have to do to enter is leave a comment here about your take on modern technology in stories. Does it make things too “easy” or can it gum up the works as much as any Renaissance Italian waylaid messenger can? In what books/films/TV shows do you think that modern technology (or the convenient lack thereof– hello, LOST!) is portrayed most effectively?
I took part in several conversations yesterday about crying while reading. Do you do it?
I do. I cry every single time I read Persuasion. I weep buckets reading epic fantasy (anything from C.L. Wilson to the Chronicles of Narnia — and I actually won’t read The Last Battle anymore because I have such a visceral reaction to my memory of sobbing all the way through that horrible travesty tragedy). I cry whenever they kill animals in fiction (do not get me started on George Orwell, the bastard, or John Steinbeck, may he rot). My high school English teacher probably remembers to this day the girl who came into her classroom during lunch period, and cried on her shoulder over A Separate Peace. I love a good cathartic cry over a piece of fiction.
Now, for the second part of the question, for you writers out there: do you cry over anything you’ve written?
I haven’t done so until recently, and, prior to Secret Society Girl, I wrote some dark books. I admit I felt a bit sniffly a few times near the end of Rites of Spring (Break), but, much like Amy, I bucked up and soldiered on. But there is one part of Rampant that I have never, in the more than a year since I’ve written it, been able to read without turning on the waterworks, and there’s a scene in Tap & Gown that made me cry as well. (It’s not one you’d think, though).
The crying has continued apace, especially with my current manuscript, though given the protagonist’s state of mind (daaaaaaaarrrrrrrrkkkkkk) it should probably be expected. She’s in a bad, bad place, and it seems I have at last figured out how to torture my characters. Um, yippee?
Seriously, protagonist. It’s spring. There are tulips coming up in my yard. My dog is adorable. I did not sign up to be Method!
I read something once that said that, as a writer, if you expect your reader to chuckle, you should be in hysterics, and if you expect them to shed a tear, you should weep buckets. I suppose this is a way of saying you have to feel things strongly if you expect the reader to feel anything at all. Because some folks just aren’t the crying type.
Though two readers (and there haven’t been that many readers yet) have already told me that Tap & Gown made them cry. Um, yay? And here I thought I was writing a comedy!
First thing’s first: Are you following the Team Castle Twitter Feed? High tea, peacocks, and lots of anonymous “overheards…”
Today marks the release date for two of the denizens of the Castle: Carrie Ryan’s debut, THE FOREST OF HANDS AND TEETH, and Jennifer Lynn Barnes’s latest, FATE. Check them out! (I have not read Jennifer’s book, but I already know and love Carrie’s — it’s really going to knock your socks off.)
Oh noes! The killer unicorns! They have taken over my website!
Thanks to ‘brina for the cornification.
In other news, the killer unicorn takeover of the known world continues apace. At the School Library Journal, kidlit blogger Fuse #8 casts her vote in the ever popular “What supernatural beings are next?” discussion:
“Werewolves turn out to be the obvious answer, though there’s a surprising push for mummies, mermaids, and angels. My vote is for evil unicorns. And if Rampant is any indication, I’m on the right path.”
I am always surprised to see the question framed thusly, as if the point of any smash book is dependent on the type of supernatural creature that appears within its pages. However, Tea Cozy isn’t the only one to ask it. Publisher’s Weekly was doing so three months ago. I remember, back before Twilight ever came out, attending conferences where the industry pros inisted that vampires were played out. I know several folks whose vampire YA novels, out before the zeitgeist, withered on the vine, and others who chug along merrily, such as Scott Westerfeld’s Peeps books or the novels of Amelia Atwater-Rhodes. Christine Feehan has been peddling vampire romance since 1999, but it was Anne Rice who reinvented the genre in the mid seventies. Buffy’s cult-classic status revitalized the genre of urban fantasy. And vampires are still super strong. The saga may be over, but Meyer is still on the top of the bestseller list, and ongoing series, such as the Casts’ House of Night or Richelle Mead’s Vampire Academy novels (I’m a huge fan of these!) keep her company there. Not to mention the reissues of LJ Smith.
Tea Cozy says, “First it was vampires, then zombies.” There may be a rash of zombie novels in the YA field right now, but the vampires haven’t gone anywhere, and for my money, it’s fairies that are all over the place. Fairies and boarding school girls. I can think of half a dozen fairy books that are either out or out this spring, and three times as many boarding school books. I heard a rumor that a large chain bookstore declared a few years back that “fairies would be the next big thing.” A few authors may have consciously responded, but in most cases, these books were written by people who were unaware of market edicts, and were just telling a story that spoke to them.
I don’t believe that ‘the next big thing’ comes courtesy of a certain strain of supernatural creature. People didn’t buy Twilight because it was about vampires. (In fact, it was advertised heavily as “a vampire book for people who don’t like vampire books.”) They bought it because the book spoke very strongly to them. After all, before it became popular, everyone was basing their opinion of “the next big thing” on a far younger series starring a boy wizard. Now of course, the people who may not have liked vampires are converted, and many will buy anything with a fang on the cover.
 In the comments of the Tea Cozy post, some postulate that angels or demons will be “the next big thing.” If so, they should probably thank Cassandra Clare, who has been writing a bestselling series about part-angel demon hunters (a very few of the “demons” are, in fact, vampires) for years. People don’t love this series because it’s got demon hunters in it. They love it because it’s great.
Another thing people love: future dystopias populated by action heroines. But I’ve yet to see the article that credits the immense popularity of Scott Westerfeld’s Uglies series with helping to boost the enormously well-received The Hunger Games last year. (For the record, I loved both.) But instead of people going, “Oh, I think the next big thing is these futuristic female-focused thrillers,” they are still talking about “insert paranormal creatures here.”
HUNGER GAMES SPOILER WARNING (mouseover): Or does The Hunger Games count as a “werewolf” novel? END SPOILER WARNING
 And sometimes, these “trend” books have very little in common. Take the so-called zombie trend. Generation Dead is a satirical metaphor about discrimination. You Are So Undead to Me is a humorous, Buffy-like approach to the topic of zombies, Soulless is a classic horror novel set up: “escape from New York’s zombie apocalypse”, and — my personal favorite — The Forest of Hands and Teeth is a literary exploration of human survival that doesn’t even mention the word zombie. (The zombie novel for people who don’t like zombie novels?)
I may be in trouble now for calling it that. 
Seriously, though, “the next big thing” as defined by “what there will be twelve dozen books out about” may be based on a particular paranormal creature, as publishers scramble to recreate the Meyer magic. But the “next big thing” as defined by “what will capture the public’s imagination en masse?” That will not be so simply defined. I believe it is the love story that draws Meyer’s fans, not the bloodsucking. (There is, in fact, very little bloodsucking.) But the last big thing, Harry, had only very minor romantic elements, and that only at the very end.
Is the next big thing unicorns? I’m sure Bruce Colville Coville (sorry, curse my butterfingers!) would be thrilled to hear that. I, on the other hand, write unicorn books for people who don’t like unicorn books. (Or maybe, based on the stories I’ve heard of people who have refused to read the book on the grounds that the characters kill unicorns, what I write is books that people who like unicorn books don’t like? Hmmm… something to ponder.) When I sat down to write Rampant, it wasn’t from a position of “hmmm, what paranormal creature is next?” And that is probably because unlike many of the usual urban fantasy creatures, I’m not writing about something humanoid — they don’t blend (except for their fangs/wings/fins/tendency to howl at the moon). They aren’t magical creatures falling in love with mortals (or other magical creatures) and causing romantic/political/cultural/physical agony. It’s a gorgeous paradigm, but I’m not writing it.
The book I’m most excited to read this year* is Leviathan, by Scott Westerfeld, which I’m positive will start the alternative World War I living airship trend. It’s totally the next big thing.
_______
* Because I’ve already read the other two I’m most excited about: The Forest of Hands and Teeth and Justine Larbalestier’s newest. Yeah, I know you’re jealous.
Care of Fail Blog:
Oh dear. I love children’s books, and I love Blaze, and I don’t think…. oh, dear.
Poor Borders. (I’m right that this is a Borders sign, right?) I know things are tight and tough and all, but you can just pick up a marker and cross off the “Children’s Books” part, right?
I have been reminded that I never picked a winner for the second Suite Scarlett Giveaway from Wednesday. So here goes: Megg, from comment 22 on my website!
(In passing: Giveaways are challenging when every other commenter is like “oh, I’ve read this one” or is me or is commenting on livejournal.)
I am also giving more time to yesterday’s giveaway of Tamora Pierce’s Alanna because I only posted that at 3 p.m. yesterday. So this weekend, you can enter either the Alanna giveaway (the post below this one) or the giveaway from this post. (More to come on that.)
Leah was right in the comments section of yesterday’s post about the reason I’d likely missed out on Tamora Pierce at an actual young adult, as the Alanna quartet was originally published when I was too young to read them, and then the series became super popular while I was in college and too busy reading other stuff for much pleasure reading. (Sadly, I did almost no pleasure reading in college until my senior year, when I not only did more reading for class than I had any other year, but I also rediscovered Harry Potter and popular fiction. God bless J.K. Rowling, y’all. Seriously.)
But also, there are way too many books out there. I try to keep up as much as possible with the popular novels in YA, romance, mainstream fiction, science fiction, and of course the classics, but it’s impossible to read everything. I have dogs to walk and dinners to cook and husbands to spend quality time with and oh, yeah, a job. I haven’t even seen this week’s episode of How I Met Your Mother (which is actually the only show I currently watch on television). But I am embarrassed about all the books I haven’t read.
I am not alone in this. When you’re a writer, you have a lot of writer friends. Together, they write a lot of books. When I first joined RWA, I made a concerted effort to buy the books of all of the published writers in my RWA chapter. This didn’t last long, as I was pretty poor and they are very prolific and successful. So time goes on, and I learned that I could be proud and supportive of writers I knew who wrote in genres that weren’t exactly my cup of tea without reading their books.
But then, you get more writer friends, and they write in genres that are your favorite cups of tea, and you still can’t read them all. And then there are other writers, who are maybe not your writer friends, but are big in the genre, and you feel like you really should read them to see what is out there and selling. And people are constantly recommending books to you. And you don’t want to sound like an idiot at a cocktail party when everyone is discussing [insert big book here] and you have no idea what they are talking about.
Like the summer I didn’t read Prep, and then the next year when my book came out, everyone was asking me if it was like Prep, and I was like, um.. (But American Wife is on my TBR pile.)
I have not read anything by: Terry Pratchett, Garth Nix, or Neil Gaiman. And yes, I am a YA fantasy author. Why do you ask? (I’m actually dying to read NATION. Anyone looking for a Xmas gift for me…)
I have not read Susan Elizabeth Phillips. I read my first Nora Roberts novel in 2004, and it was an 80s category romance i picked up at a book exchange in an Australian hostel. I only read Flowers From the Storm this year. I have never read Kathleen Woodiwiss. Or J.R. Ward. Or Laurel K. Hamilton. Or Sandra Brown. I have only read one Danielle Steel.
Stephen King? Only read short stories. Lots of short stories, to be sure, but I have yet to tackle one of his novels. (Sailor Boy keeps trying to get me to read IT, but the first chapter scared me so much I had to put it down. I can apparently only handle King in bite-sized pieces.)
I have not read CATCH-22. If I am ever divorced, this fact may be one of the causes.
If you look at the list of the 1001 Books to Read Before You Die (I own a copy of this book, and have posted about it before), I have read precisely none of the books listed in the “21st century” section, though I have, in fact, read over half of the ~50 listed in the 18th century and earlier sections. I’m apparently more of a ancient classics and “rise of the novel” type girl. (Some day, we shall have to discuss how the editors believed there were 70 books one must read before death written in the 5 or 6 years of the 21st c. before this book was published, while they list fewer than 200 written in the entire 19th century.) However, of the books I have not read on that list (lots and lots), I am not embarrassed not to have read quite a few of them.
I am not alone in this. I often have conversations with writer friends where they are like, “oh, yeah, haven’t read that one, either.” And I remember one time in college, when I was discussing with one of my lit professors how the reading of one particular classic was changing my life, he got up, closed the office door, came back, leaned in, and whispered conspiratorially, “I haven’t read it.”
 What books are you embarrassed to have not read?
Today’s giveaway is another book I am embarrassed to have not read: LAMENT: The Faerie Queen’s Deception, by Maggie Stiefvater. I drove three hours down and two hours back to see Maggie sign this book that I’m about to give away, as well as my copy, five hours which must have surely been plenty of time to read said book. But, alas, still on my towering TBR pile. Add it to yours by leaving a comment here.
A busy day here, which is why this blog is so late. Woke up this morning to find out that my adorable, perfect puppy has graduated into the full throes of adolescence. I was out the door at 7 a.m. this morning, by which time, she had already:
- peed on the floor, which she hasn’t done in months! (In point of fact, she peed on my favorite Yale shirt, which, to be fair, I left on the floor, but still!)
- eaten one of Sailor Boy’s socks
- jumped on Sailor Mom’s head
- squeezed herself underneath the fence and run out into the street
And when we told her to “come” she sat there and blinked at us, which I believe is the adolescent puppy equivalent of rolling her eyes. The vet warned us this would happen, but I didn’t believe her. Not my Rio! Not the pride and joy of her puppy school class!
Oh crap, brb. She’s eating my slipper.
What? I’m, like, totally obedient, Mom! Whatever. It’s so unfair!
And this just before my folks come to town, too, toting their perfect one year old sheepdog. I was hoping to impress them with my well-behaved pup. Instead I will try to impress them by restraining myself from throttling her.
Bleh.
So anyway, was up in Annapolis today. I love it there. So pretty! We ate lunch down by the pier. Oysters and crab and flounder and shrimp. Yum! Almost made me forget how mad I am at Rio.
In other news, I saw a fascinating blog post the other day at Curiosity Shop, about the theme of choices/romance/feminism in a lot of YA literature. Martha writes:
“[It] is an underlying theme in a lot of teen books, since it’s a big teen concern–choosing who to be, how to live life, how to be independent. But my fall reading has very much been about characters whose main conflict is the choice between being true to themselves, following their dream or passion or being in love. I’m so glad that there are these books for teen out there. They are important, because they show that it’s not all about the boy (or girl, if the protagonist is a boy).”
This is a theme that very much concerns me, too, and has been a central issue in almost every book I write. It is, in fact, a central issue in most romance novels, especially the ones I really like. The difference is that the genre constrictions of modern (by which I mean “shelved in bookstores as”) romance novels requires what the romance folks call “a happy ending,” by which they mean that the two central characters “end up together.”
Which in turn requires romance novels (well, at leas thet kind I like) being written so that being with the boy is also the way in which the character is most true to herself/ or she can be with boy AND achieve her goal (or same, genders reversed).
The other day, I was watching You’ve Got Mail, and it occurred to me (in a way it did not when I watched the movie as a teenager), that the reason for the long interlude between the closing of Meg Ryan’s store and the happy romantic ending was so that the audience could realize that Meg’s life was not over because she failed in her stated goal of keeping her mother’s store open. That sometimes, your life takes a path different from what you expect, and you are thwarted in one direction, but you grow from that experience and find new happiness. Meg did in fact lose her little store (hope that’s not a spoiler for anyone) but all her former employees became star salesmen at the big box superstore and Meg herself is first offered a job as an editor and decides eventually to write books (and you see that she has a flair for writing from the very start). Also, she gets to keep her stunning apartment that New Yorkers only live in in the movies. Score.
If she lost her store, was crushed by Tom Hanks, and then went off into the sunset with him right away, there would always be this part of you going “What? You can’t be with him! He ruined your life!” For me, the happy ending is not necessarily the romantic one. I like it when the girl (or boy) saves herself (or himself) and then gets the boy (or girl, or boy, or vampire, or etc.) Happy romantic ending without happy “other goal” ending is not satisfying to me, though happy “other goal” ending without happy romantic one works for me just fine. (cf. Casablanca, which a very good, NYT bestselling romance writing friend tells me she will never watch because she heard it “didn’t have a happy ending.”
This is why I don’t write “shelved in bookstores as” romance novels. Because my books don’t necessarily end with the girl getting the guy, though they do end (so far) with the girl getting what it is that she wants. And sometimes, that involves NOT getting the guy (as in Under the Rose).
I’ve been seeing a lot of reactions to Graceling (one of my fave books of the year) that show dissatisfaction with the romantic ending of the book (I’m really not going to spoil it for you). I’m not sure why. Maybe my standard for “happy romantic ending” differs from other people’s, as I know my standard for “happy ending” differs from a lot of romance readers. The romance in that book really worked for me, not least because the dude’s name was Po. But, again, I think that Rick had it right in Casablanca: Sometimes the problems of the world are much bigger than two crazy kids, and sometimes, love doesn’t work out, and sometimes that’s a good thing. It’s not a tragic ending a’la Nicholas Sparks. It’s great.
The most common question I get about the secret society series (after “Were you ever in a secret society?”) is “Who is Amy going to end up with?” My response is “Why do you think she is going to end up with anyone?” Amy is 22 years old at the end of the series. She just graduated from college. I may have been dating my eventual husband at that time, but I sure as heck didn’t think I was, and I bet the vast majority of people in Amy’s situation are not going to marry their college sweethearts.*
Whether or not she “ends up with” someone (in the immediate sense of “is she in a relationship on the last page of the last book”) was not, to own the truth, soemthing I thought about too much as I was planning the series. I was more interested in where Amy “ended up with” regarding herself and the society.
I guess this is rather rambling, My general point is yes, I’ve read all the book that Martha is discussing, and I loved the way the romantic themes were handled in each one, and it’s something I think about a lot in my own work, so great post, Curiosity Shop!
 Oh, and in honor of said post, today’s giveaway is ALANNA: THE FIRST ADVENTURE, which is the first in the Song of the Lioness Quartet, by Tamora Pierce. I love this series, though I totally read it out of order. After I told someone I was calling the killer unicorn book RAMPANT, they said to me, “Oh, like Tamora Pierce’s book?” So I rushed out to get hers (It’s actually called LIONESS RAMPANT, which was even more terrifying to me, since “lioness” also plays a major part in my book) to make sure that I hadn’t written in ground already covered, and then I was like, “Um, where have these books been all my life, and how come no one, knowing my vast love of Eowyn and Aravis and all things warrior-woman esque, has told me about them before?
So, in case you, too, love strong women and non-traditional romantic stories and have not heard of this series, comment here to enter. You shall thank me later.
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* Though now that I’ve said this, I realize that my mother, my brother, my best friend, and two of Sailor Boy’s best friends are married to their college sweethearts.
Great discussion in the comments thread yesterday (that I wasn’t able to participate in because I’ve been running around, trying to get stuff ready for our first ever Christmas Chez Diana). There must have been something in the air, because Jen Hayley was talking about the very same thing on her blog, and then later, I had a conversation with a YA writing friend who admitted that she didn’t want to say the words “young adult” when talking about her book because she was worried it might turn off potential readers. She said that some adults have dismissed her books out of hand when they hear they are “YA.”
I wonder if some of this can be tied to the whole myth of the “reading level.” I am constantly hearing proud parents declaring that their 10 year old reads “at a ninth grade level” and bemoaning the fact that books about 15 year olds are too mature in subject matter to match the “reading level” their children should be engaging in. I’m no educator, but I heard this whole reading level thing is actually describing the ease in which the average ninth grader would read the same material. It’s about phonics, not about books.
These people who are adults now (and dismissive of YA) were told growing up, exactly how old the books they were reading were through the calculation of some voodoo syllable-per-sentence mathematics that really had nothing to do with the book’s actual meat. When I was in middle and high school, we’d brag that we weren’t reading teen books, but adult books. The same group of friends who flocked to see TOY STORY on opening night were shocked that I, the English teacher’s pet, was still re-reading Narnia. They’d go to see SCREAM but would scoff at my Christopher Pike novels (they might, under duress, admit they read Stephen King). Entertainment designed for children or teens was totally appropriate, even cool — unless it was books. Having been trained to look on the back all our lives and press our “reading level” — books couldn’t be for fun. They needed to have bragging rights attached.
I think this attitude has abated somewhat in the face of the worldwide phenomenon that was the Harry Potter novels. I remember seeing fifty-something businessmen with Pentagon employment tags carrying their latest HP around the Metro a few years back. But at the same time time, I lost count of the number of articles saying that reading a chick lit book was rotting your brain. The New York Times was so distressed perplexed by the endless presences of Harry Potter on the bestseller lists that they made a whole new list just for kidlit. The prevailing opinion about books is that they are not supposed ot be fun. They are not supposed to be entertainment. They are supposed to be high art. No one talks down to you if you unwind after a long day by watching Desperate Housewives, How I Met Your Mother, or Lost. But if you read a chick lit or a romance or a science fiction novel, you’re clearly low-brow. Stupid. Pathetic.
And you wonder why adult publishing is in grave peril.
Children’s publishing is doing better, perhaps, because kids have not yet been trained to think of reading as something they only do under duress so they can sound erudite at cocktail parties. “Oh, of course I read Proust!” (I don’t know why I’m picking on poor Proust. I’ve never read him. For all I know, I may find his books to be fascinating page-turners.) Kids meet in school yards and talk about how much they love Dumbledore. In kids publishing, it’s okay to be both highbrow and still tell a good yarn. Look at the Prinz winners and the National Book Award Children’s recipients.
 One more note: in the comment thread yesterday, katayoun asked why books need to be split into all these different genres. It’s really a marketing concern. If you walked into a bookstore and you saw a huge wall marked “fiction” it might overwhelm you. But you read one book, and you like it. Say it’s a romance. You go to the romance section, where you figure there may be other books like that book, and you’ll like those. Ditto for fantasy. Or books for teens. Or mysteries. or so on and so forth.
And now, the winner of THE HUNGER GAMES is: Tez Miller. (Tez, hon, you are so getting this slow-boat-to-Australia method. I am researching my Amazon options as we speak. Serves me right for including the overseas folk).
Today’s giveaway is Maureen Johnson’s SUITE SCARLETT. Leave a comment here to enter.
Hey, guys. I’m still out of town, so come back this afternoon and I’ll have announced the winner of Tuesday’s Giveaway.
Today’s giveaway is a copy of Suite Scarlett, by Maureen Johnson. If all has gone as planned, I will have spent yesterday afternoon writing in a cafe with Madame Johnson, so this is very fitting.
The thing I really love about Maureen’s books is that they remind me so much of the books I read when I was a kid. You’ve got those quirky fabulous New York families. It’s like The Hundredth Thing About Caroline all over again. But older, and hipper. And awesome. I know Girl at Sea was a RITA finalist last year, but I don’t think her books have half the recognition in the romance community that they should. People bemoan where to find good contemporary rom coms? Like Jennifer Crusie? Try Maureen Johnson.
I shall be back later with more updates and other fun stuff. Meanwhile, leave a comment here to enter!
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