Why do I write so many strong female characters? When I was a kid, 7-8 books out of all books written for kids through teens had boy heroes. Those that had girl heroes showed them at “feminine” pursuits, or if they were a little feisty, a male hero had to bail them out by book’s end. Only the historical novels had strong girls; most of them “settled down” by the end. I was reading “boy books”: TREASURE ISLAND, TOM SAWYER, THE THREE MUSKETEERS, Robin Hood, King Arthur, and Edgar Rice Burroughs. When I encountered fantasy, I had the same problem: virtually no girl heroes. The ones I found, adult women all, settled down, hated other women, or died. I didn’t understand why there were no girls (or those that existed were severely compromised) in the adventure books, so I began to write what I wanted to read: adventure books with girl heroes. As a published YA writer I came along at a time when that was what booksellers, parents, and librarians were looking for, and along with some other writers, I found my place in publishing.
Pierce’s work is what laid the groundwork for books like mine. If her Alanna books weren’t still sitting on the shelf in every bookstore almost three decades later, no publisher would take a chance on Astrid, or Katsa, or other female heroes of teen fantasy. I write the books I do because I could never find enough of them growing up. I read and re-read Greek myths and fantasies like The Horse and His Boy because Aravis Tarkheena was a warrior woman, and they were few and far between. (It was much later in life, sadly, when I discovered Tamora Pierce and other writers like her.) We have been enjoying (for the last four or five years) a wonderful influx of these kind of books. The current discussion of whether or not boy readers are getting the shaft is… not entirely accurate. I didn’t see “but what about the girls?” whines when it was all Harry Potter all the time. Girl readers were expected to love Harry, or make do with Hermione (who is awesome, it’s true), but people seem to accept that girls will read “boy books” and not vice versa. (I think sometimes you can sneak ‘em in, especially if the writer is a boy, like Scott Westerfeld’s Tally Youngblood in the UGLIES series). I have very few boy readers. My dad, however, adores my books, but he’s in large part responsible for my love of warrior women, so there’s that.
The whole essay is worth a careful read, because Pierce also discusses the way you can get a boy interested in reading a so-called “girl book” (hint: talk about the decapitations, not the girl finding love), and since she’s been in the biz for a while, she knows this conversation pops up every few years. For myself, I think it’s obvious from all my published books, action fantasy and chick lit, that I’m interested in exploring the way young women interact with society, so women’s issues do find a way to worm themselves into my books. I am doing it purposefully, but it is purposefully for ME — it’s what I find myself drawn to writing. (I am finding that is less explicitly the case in the book I’m writing, though that’s a bit of a one-off.)
I hear, over and over again, authors and editors and agents urging writers to “Write what they love.” But I’d argue this is not necessarily the best advice for everyone. While some of you may love to read the genres you’re equally talented at writing in, some of you may find your writing strengths lie elsewhere.
And if so, my advice is to not fight it.
For me, I’m best at comedy. I can easily whip up quirky characters and odd situations and pop culture references galore. And when I’m writing comedy my hands fly on the keyboard and sometimes, I admittedly even make myself laugh out loud, wondering where on Earth my brain conjured up that particular joke.
But for many years, I fought against my natural light style. I tried to write bigger, deeper, more epic novels with dark themes and alternative dimensions. I wanted to be that author with the kick-ass cover of a woman in leather, wielding a sword in a dark, twisted world. Because that’s the kind of book I’d pick up in the bookstore, over the one with a silly cartoon cover and a quirky title. But I’m just not that author. I’m the cartoon cover kind.
A couple of things: you could have bowled me over with a feather when I first read this essay, since I would never have categorized Marianne that way at all. She’s one of the most versatile writers I know. Everything she does, indeed, has that signature snark and pop-culture touches, but she can do light contemporary romance (such as her excellent GAMER GIRL) as well as post-apocalyptica (my other favorite book of hers, RAZOR GIRL). That they both have the word “girl” in the title is pure coincidence, because they are very different books.
Also, who doesn’t love zombies with a touch of fun? I do! (Shaun of the Dead, Zombieland, and I’m salivating for the upcoming Jesse Petersen series.)
So aside from thinking that Marianne is wrong in her estimation of her own talents, I think she has a very good point, here:
Now that’s not to say you can’t include certain beloved themes in your book. You just have to give the story your own voice and twist. For example, I knew I wouldn’t be great at writing a straight medieval. So instead I decided to bring a teen King Arthur to the 21st century in my upcoming novel “The Camelot Code.” He Googles himself and learns his true destiny and decides to join the football team rather than go home and pull the sword from the stone. So, in this way, I was able to incorporate something I love–medieval fantasy novels–with something I’m better at writing–light, humorous young adult fiction. And in doing so I was able to create my own sort of genre mash-up. (After all, where else are you going to find Morgan La Fay accidentally agreeing to a Brazilian wax…)
Sometimes we have to figure out how to write what we love, or, as my other pal Julie Leto might put it, how to incorporate the book our voice into the books of our heart. RAZOR GIRL, for instance, works for me because it utilizes Marianne’s familiarity with genre conventions (the titular Razor Girl is actually a genetically-enhanced warrior created by her father, who was obsessed with William Gibson and cyperpunk stories — Gibson wrote about the “original” razorgirl Molly MIllions), and light teen voice allowed her to tell a post-apocalyptic story using her strengths as a writer. She poignantly juxtaposes scenes of a zombie-infested wasteland with scenes from the before time, when the main characters Molly and Chase were very different people.
I am often asked in interviews why I am still so active in RWA, given that I don’t write romance novels. For years, I tried to write romance novels (I have four of them sitting under my bed), and though my rejection letters would praise my voice/prose/characters, the romance wasn’t quite clicking for them. But then I wrote Secret Society Girl, which, while not a romance novel, ended up being a hit with its readers because of the romance within its pages. Lesson learned: it’s not that I can’t tell a love story, it’s that I’m better when it’s a subplot, and when the book exists out of the genre conventions of the romance novel.
But, like Marianne, I still love romance novels, especially historical romances! But I regularly write with a published historical romance novelist, and the work I see her doing to make sure every word in her book is historically accurate — yikes! Makes me glad I write books set in the 21st century.
I recently came out with my first historical short story, and I had to do a ton of research — about clothing, about inheritance law, about marriage law — to be able to work my way around what was actually a pretty straightforward plot. I specifically chose to set the story in a country where they don’t speak English so that any non-standard word usage could be chalked up to “translation” rather than “but the OED says they weren’t using that word then!” (Quoth my historical writing friend: “Cheater.”)
My love of historicals, romance, and post-apocalyptica combine in my current work in progress, the much-teased post-apocalyptic retelling of Persuasion. But it took years before I figured out exactly how to tell such an unusual story in a voice that worked for me and for what I do. Sometimes it takes getting creative, as Marianne did with her upcoming Camelot Code, another book that was a bit in the making.
I truly believe you can write what you love if you make it your own — and that, as Tamora Pierce says, you should write what you love, because it always is your own.
I stumbled across this essay by an MFA graduate a few weeks ago, and I’ve been thinking about it for a bit. I do not have an MFA, though a few of my friends (both published and unpublished) do. I had been rather skeptical about them for many years, owing primarily to the fact that the one creative writing class I took in college was taught by an Iowa MFA (widely regarded as the best program in the country) who hated genre literature and was currently — when not teaching a bunch of 20 year olds to read Flannery O’Connor and write just like the good people at Iowa had taught him — getting his law degree from Yale (which is widely regarded as the best program in the country). I assumed once he mastered his JD, he’d be toddling off to a medical program at Johns Hopkins. But I digress. If he wanted to go around collecting degrees, that was his business (and Fannie Mae’s).
What bothered me was that he hated genre. He actually kicked a girl out of class once for turning in a fantasy short story. My first story for the class was, I now think, in the genre of what would later be called chick lit. The girls in the class loved it. The boys “didn’t get it” — spurred on in their mental block by the teacher. That was how the class worked. The teacher would deliver his judgment (“this is not a genre class!” “I’m not sure why this girl is having such a problem with her boyfriend, all he wants her to do is give up her personality and principles to impress his parents”) and then the rest of the class would be set along those lines, and it would take a lot for any of the students to disagree with his pronouncement — especially since he would argue every point a dissenter made, while just nodding and agreeing with one of his pets.
I became very skeptical about workshopping and basically wrote my final short for the class as a ghost story in protest. (In my meeting with him to discuss the story, I referenced Hawthorne and Poe, and he gave me a B+). But my friends with MFAs assure me that this dude was just not a great teacher, and that workshopping isn’t usually such a draconian situation. Indeed, my closest friend with an MFA wrote a magical realism book while in school.
Back in 2006, soon after I sold my first novel, two of the folks in my circle of friends got into MFA programs. All of a sudden I started reconsidering. I got as far as discussing the matter with my editor and agent, who both gave me the incredulous response of “but you’re already selling.” Four years on, I wish sometimes I had at least explored the possibility of some “master classes” like Clarion, though I suppose it’s never too late. And I have attended near-monthly workshops and more than a dozen craft-focused conferences for the past ten years which have also taught me a lot. I’ve also enjoyed the company of brilliant critique partners and received fantastic editing from my editors. So there’s that.
Living the writing life for the past decade has, in general, given me the opportunity to learn a lot of these lessons that the essayist lists on the fly.
1. Don’t play it safe.
Absolutely. This advice takes many forms: a) don’t write the hot genre you don’t like just to break in, because it’ll show, and if it doesn’t, you’ll be stuck there and once you start writing what you love, your backlist will be useless; b) don’t save all the “good stuff” for the next book; c) bleed on the page — make the worst possible thing happen; d) don’t give all your interesting characteristics to your secondary characters… the list goes on an on.
2. Don’t assume that just because one person hates your writing and the other person loves your writing that your writing is “confusing” or “conflicted.”
More like it’s a sign that you have a powerful voice. I’ve come to terms with the fact that not everyone is going to like my writing. It’s a matter of taste. In today’s world of reader blogs, amazon “reviews” and Goodreads, you get the pleasure of post-publication “workshopping” — often from readers who perhaps are not the most discerning, or who aren’t quite able to put a finger on why a certain book didn’t resonate with them, and so cling to something they read in another book review or heard in an English class once. It’s okay. You’re not writing for someone who doesn’t “get” you. If you try, you’ll probably fail, and lose the readers who do get you at the same time. If you ever start feeling bad, go read the one-star reviews of your favorite novels. It’s not just you.
3. Don’t feel like you have to implement every suggestion into your work.
Coming on the heels of #2 above, I imagine this has a lot more resonance to someone in MFA-workshopping mode, but it fits even for me. I get various advice from my critique partners, editors, agent… and then there are the emails from readers, or, better yet, the book bloggers who choose to frame their “reviews” as if they are tutoring the author as to what they should do in their books. Writers can go on all day about these if you catch them at a bar. But one thing I’ve learned is that though editors and critique partners are almost always spot on about identifying what’s not working in your book, they aren’t always right in telling you how to fix it.The best thing to do, when tackling a revision letter, is to find all the problems, then implement your own solution. Sometimes what looks like two different problems (“it starts off slow” and “I don’t really feel like I understand the main character”) are actually the same thing (“if I make her plight more relatable, you’ll be on board with her sooner”).
4. Don’t read just for fun.
To be perfectly honest, I don’t agree with this one at all. Further, I’m surprised that anyone in an MFA program even believed its converse to start with. The educational system in this country is massively good at drumming “reading just for fun” out of you. Many people who think nothing of watching seven consecutive episodes of Law & Order or going to see Avatar or being a devotee of a weekly sitcom or buying a tabloid to read on the beach would balk at buying a paperback mystery, science fiction or romance novel. Television shows or magazines are “escapes” but popular fiction is “trash.” I’ve attended parties and watched folks chat at length about the latest Judd Apatow, then turn around and call chick lit “trash.” Apparently, if entertainment comes in the form of black text on a white page, it’s held to an entirely different standard.
I think people should read “just for fun” (not least because it’s how I pay my mortgage). I think that writers, especially, should read just for fun, or they risk losing the joy in their work. Writers who read only what is “good for them” may get some screwed up notion in their head that they should only write a certain kind of book, maybe not the kind that is the best fit for their voice and their passion. I know this happens. It happened to me when I was in college and was being told that “genre” was a dirty word and that if I wanted to be a writer, I’d had better go after a Pulitzer and not a paperback romance.
In terms of “reading for craft” — which is the essence of her point — I think that comes with the territory. If anything, it’s hard to turn that off once you’re in the business. I relish the books that make me forget that I’m a writer, that are so compelling I forget to look for the man behind the curtain, to keep stock of the tricks of the trade the writer is using. Those are my favorite kind.
There are six more items on the essayist’s list. I’ll be back tomorrow to tackle those.
Home from RWA 2010. What a fun, invigorating National Conference! I haven’t been to Nationals since 2006 (otherwise known as “my pink ribbon year”) so this was a very different experience. My career has changed so much since those days — I now write for several publishers in several genres, I have a bunch of books under my belt, I know so many other writers.
I was discussing this with my fantabulous roommate Erica Ridley, who was signing at her first ever RWA Literacy signing:
Like me, Erica had no books at her first ever literacy signing. I had a bunch of copies of RAMPANT to sign at this signing, and was so pleased by all the fans that dropped by!
I did manage to attend a few workshops at RWA, and they were great! My favorites were “Mending a Broken Scene” with the brilliant and awe-inspiring Roxanne St. Claire (a workshop you should take if you ever get a chance — and one of hte few workshops taht truly works for writers at any level of their careers), “Do As I Say, Not as I Did” with Mindy Klasky and Maria V. Snyder, and the chat with Meg Cabot. Speaking of Meg Cabot, I finally got a chance to meet her, and she signed my ARC of Zombies vs. Unicorns.
I also made a bunch of new friends, like Molly O’Keefe (who won a RITA this year)!
This is Maureen McGowan, Molly O’Keefe, and me. (I am currently trying to decide if I should change my name to Diana O’Peter or Diana McFreund to better match the others.)
Speaking of the RITA, pals of mine made out like bandits this year. First and foremost, a HUGE HUGE congratulations to the marvelous Simone Elkeles, for rocking out the YA Romance category with Perfect Chemistry:
Man, I was giddy when she won. I felt like *I* had won a RITA (you can see my sticky fingers on hers in the photo). I know everyone’s talking about Julia Quinn’s hat trick this week, but I feel like Simone’s win is one of the best stories from RWA — her book is a true romance for teens, and its RITA nod is a recognition by the romance genre establishment.
Here she is enjoying her golden lady:
Simone is represented by Kristin Nelson, whose whole agency made out like a bandit last night:
And last, but certainly not least, there’s Kresley Cole’s paranormal win for her #1 New York Times bestselling book, Kiss of a Demon King. Here I am trying to keep up with the beautiful blondes Kresley and Roxanne:
I guess I should be spending more time in the sun this summer. And wear more black.
And, I hung out with so many other wonderful writers! I had lunch with Team Castle-mates Ally Carter and Jennifer Barnes, as well as the aforementioned Meg and Erica:
I met historical author Victoria Janssen, journalist and young adult writer Gwenda Bond and her husband, sci-fi writer Christopher Rowe:
Gwenda was there to receive her Veritas Award. Christopher was there to support her and to get sick of people saying “a sci-fi writer? What are you doing here?” (Not true, actually, I’m sure he only got that like thirty-five times or so.) That night at the Avon party, which took place in the gorgeous wood-paneled party room of the Living Seas exhibit at EPCOT, Gwenda, Christopher, and I decided that my next project was going to be about the forbidden love between a girl and a were-ray. Behold my inspiration (as pathetically dark and blurry as it is):
We had to get this pic quickly, you see, because of that whole forbidden thing. You guys, he’s a CAPTIVE were-ray. A captive of the Disney Corp. It’s gonna be like Twilight meets Finding Nemo, with a dash of Splash! and a soupçon of Lovecraft.
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’m still giddy about it. I’ve never heard my work read professionally before, and I think I would have killed to be a fly on the wall in that production meeting, where they said, “Hey, I have an idea. Let’s read the narrative in an American accent, and then do French accents for the French characters, you know, because they are French.”
(Even though they are ostensibly speaking in French. I always think it’s weird that whenever they do historical pictures, no matter what country they are supposed to be in, everyone speaks in English accents. Although I suppose Tom Hulce didn’t. Right? Now I can’t remember. Mozart was not a unicorn hunter.)
The sample does not include a sample of Gitta’s dialogue, so I don’t know if they have decided to do a German accent for her, or if they’ve decided to do an accent that is a mix of German and French, since it’s made clear in the book that her French has a tinge of German accent in it. She speaks French throughout most of the story (a few lines of German when she’s speaking to the unicorn and once when she’s praying, which I know is unusual given that she’s a pre-Vatican II nun and should probably be speaking in Latin, but I decided that it illustrated Gitta’s emotional state as well as her own sense of spirituality). Gitta does, in fact, speak seven languages.
But how AWESOME is that? I called everyone I knew and made them listen to it right away. I can’t wait to hear the whole thing (apparently the audio isn’t releasing for another week — sad face). Given that this is an anthology, I am waaaaaaaaay down on the totem pole, so I had nothing to do with the making of this audio book. I am buying it when it comes out next week, just like everyone else. And then I’m putting it on my iPod, possibly on repeat.
There is an actress reading my short story. She was paid to do this. She was paid to give Elise an adorable little French accent that makes her sound like Jim Dale doing Fleur Delacour Weasely and though I have listened to this sample like ten times already, I don’t think it will ever make me stop giggling.
I don’t know if I’m just easily amused or what, but this is one of those cool authorial moments. My words, performed. With accents I never even imagined.
So last night I went to the Printz Award ceremony at ALA — I’ve never been, and it was awesome. All the speeches were so wonderful. I especially enjoyed the one by John Barnes, a long-time science fiction author whose Printz Honor was the result of writing a true book of his heart, a semi-autobiographical novel about a teenage boy in the 1970s: TALES OF THE MADMAN UNDERGROUND.
(Ah, my book list. It grows ever longer.)
And of course, Libba’s talk was gorgeous. Have you all read GOING BOVINE? It’s not the easiest read in the world, especially if you have a weakness for hamburgers, like me. I had to put it down a few times because I’m freaking terrified of prions, y’all. Pretty much any disease of the brain give me the heebie jeebies. It’s that whole “I think, therefore I am,” stuff — I would like to be able to trust my own brain. It’s why zombies are so terrifying. And [spoiler spoiler spoiler spoiler spoiler spoiler]. But GOING BOVINE is such a powerful, masterful work that I kind of had to get past that, because it is the sort of book that must be read.
I loved hearing Rick Yancey speak, because hearing him talk about crafting his gory Monstrumologist and freak himself out in the middle of the night and deal with his spouse’s take on him writing such a gory book — well, it reminded me of my own process with Rampant. I thought Monstrumologist was definitely gorier than Rampant, but I was pleased that YA had too such bloody books on the shelves at the same time last fall. Occasionally, I see us linked on “if you like this” type of features. I guess we’d fall under the “if you like creepy, coming of age fantasies with maggots, decapitations, and severed eyeballs” heading?
I haven’t read Punkzilla or Charles & Emma, but now I really want to! (See above, re: book list).
I got to sit with Ally Carter and right behind David Levithan and John Green. I caught sight, a few rows back, of Annette Curtis Klause — squee!
Afterward, at the reception, I ran into even more YA pals: Jennifer Lyn Barnes, Coe Booth, and Holly Black.
Some pictures from the evening:
Team Castle reunion! (Me, Jen, Ally, and Holly)
I bask in the glow of talent emanating from David Levithan and Coe Booth. (Do you think it’ll rub off?)
The stunning Libba Bray and her glorious Printz.
I also got to chat at length with a bunch of fabulous librarians, as well as a bunch of folks from New York.
And and AND I got my bookmarks. They are fantastic. But I don’t have a picture of them. I seem to be having some sort of problem with my photo uploader. I’ll remedy that and be back later.
So I survived ALA, thanks to the support of my editor and author friends.Friday afternoon, Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl took pity on me and called up, inviting me to come hang with them on the floor. We did. We snagged some swag. I also met their lovely editor Julie, and I may have accidentally sold her a book for $0.35 worth of parking meter change.
Oops. My agent’s totally going to kill me.
The next day, I left the house at 6:30 AM to make my early, early early morning breakfast with Harper Collins, where I met some other authors and a bunch of lovely librarians. Man, I love librarians. So knowledgeable! So passionate! So stylish!
Then, I headed back to the exhibit hall, where I ran into heaps of authors, attended a few signings, picked up even more swag — swag! Swag! How do I love thee? A few of the authors I hung out with: Malinda Lo, author of Ash; Danielle Joseph, author of Shrinking Violet; John Green, author of Looking for Alaska and PaperTowns and Will Grayson, Will Grayson.
Here I am with the beautiful Malinda Lo, whose moody, evocative debut ASH I read last year by firelight during a blackout. It’s also a great book to read over your air-conditioning vent this summer, though. Malinda’s next book is called Huntress. As you can imagine, I’m all over that. We had lunch and talked about researching hunting. She lives in Northern California, which is great for that.
I ran into Alaya Dawn Johnson ever so breifly — just long enough to tell her how much I love her story in Zombies vs. Unicorns (it’s awesome, ya’ll, even if it is about zombies). Speaking of zombies, check out this travesty:
She was so SMUG about it, too! To my face, y’all. To my face. Do you think Astrid would put up with that?
Actually, Astrid is afraid of zombies, too. She has no special powers to deal with those.
And, since I know y’all are wondering about the ice cream, I am so happy to report that at ALA, ice cream is free! Yeah, they were just handing it out on the street corner. Here’s Malinda, me, and Danielle Jospeh eating our free ice cream, in a picture taken by John Green. (You’d think someone who spends so much time filming could have snapped a pic where we were all looking at the camera, but whatever):
This was taken on our way to lunch with Pam Bachorz, author of Candor, Jon Skovron, author of Struts & Frets, Holly Cupala, author of Tell Me a Secret, and L.K. Madigan, award-winning author of Flash Burnout. Yeah, it was kinda a debs party I crashed. They’re very nice.
And yes, that means we had ice cream on the WAY to lunch.
After lunch, I rushed back to the exhibit hall for my signing. Yay, signing!
It went great — we gave away ALL my copies of Ascendant ARCs, and the unicorn horn lollipops were a hit. Killer unicorns FTW!
No matter what John Green says. (Also, I totally did the filming of the part where John steals the book.)
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…
I appreciate all the comments telling me to relax or meditate or forget about work… you guys are sweet, really, I was, however, hoping for more of a drill-sergeant-like approach. Like “unless I write 1,000 words a day, I have to [insert humiliating spectacle here].”
Come on, people. Let’s be creative!
Because hte week’s almost over and I am growing a bit concerned about my lack of output. I am having structural issues that I know I just need to ignore for now and fix later, but they keep staring me in the face every time I open my file.
Oh, and I’m not getting my car back for another week. AGH! Poor Nikita! I miss her.
Yesterday, while working on my first science fiction novel (I really never get tired of saying that), I started to recognize one of my characters from the outside and think of her the way a literary critic might. It’s a thing that happens when you spend four years getting a lit degree — you can’t turn off the analysis, even from your own work.I think it can actually help in writing because I can start to more consciously incorporate those elements of who I want her to be into the text.
Who I want her to be is pretty badass. I was describing my thought processes to my husband as we walked Rio last night, (Quoth a passer-by: “What a beautiful dog!” I know I’m biased, people, but really, she’s insanely pretty) and I think I said something along the lines of “[the character's] like Toph Bei Fong meets CJ Craig.” I love Sailor Boy. He kind of grinned, then said “Okay, I can see that.”
(By the way, this is not the main character I’m talking about.)
So anyway, as one can imagine, she’s heaps of fun to write.
But so are most badass female characters. Astrid is so conflicted about her abilities that I really did relish the scenes where she was like, “I do actually know what I’m capable of here, and you do too, so why are we playing this petty little game?” Just because you aren’t certain of the morality of using your powers (see also: Katsa in Graceling) doesn’t mean you aren’t completely self-assured about your ability to do so if needed.
It’s interesting to me now to look back on the three female main characters I’ve created and how different they are, but maybe it’s even early for that, because I’m not done drafting the third yet. She may change (though it is unlikely much because she isn’t entirely my creation — she’s based on an Austenian blueprint). And I do love her, too. I love Anne, therefore I love my Anne-like cognate. But badass she ain’t. Her strength is subtle and often stealth, as it must be in her life.
So I’m glad I got to sneak a badass in there somewhere. Also, I do so love the concept of mirror characters. I loved writing Phil and Astrid, and seeing the way Phil’s self-assurance and extroverted nature were things that Astrid admired (perhaps over-admired).
And in general, I do love me some badass female characters. Live for them. Was especially happy to see this one, which cleverly combines elements of Saffron *and* Joan Holloway for maximum Christina Hendricks geekery:
So last night I went to the Printz Award ceremony at ALA — I’ve never been, and it was awesome. All the speeches were so wonderful. I especially enjoyed the one by John Barnes, a long-time science fiction author whose Printz Honor was the result of writing a true book of his heart, a semi-autobiographical novel about a teenage boy in the 1970s: 
