Optimism, Risk, and Other Stuff for the New Year

It's Wednesday, January 3rd, just for point of reference. Despite the fact that 45 is trading (literally, word for word) 'whose nuclear button is bigger' tweets with a crazy dictator and thus making us all quake in our collective boots, I'm feeling optimistic, which proves, if nothing else, that optimism is definitely a frame of mind.

Spent part of New Year's Day with some friends I adore because they are, either by nature or by choice, unfailing optimists. Not unrealistic. Just 'pick yourself up and start over and how can I make this situation work and screw it if I can't, where am I going next' kind of thinking. Their lives haven't been easy, not a one of them. Some serious sh-- has gone done in their worlds. Lots of trauma and drama, as with most of us. But they are adventurous and risk takers and world travelers (both in real life and in mindset) and being around them makes me happy.

The MC in my current work in progress starts the story afraid of risk. Bad stuff has happened, and her life has been upended (which she partly believes might be her own fault) and she believes it's safer to keep her dreams small. But dreams and hopes have a way of muscling themselves out there. At least for this girl. And sometimes the universe has its own plans for you.

Okay, I got excited typing that.

The point is: Risk. Put yourself out there.

I was raised by two loving parents, but my dad was not a risk taker, not even one tiny, little bit. For him, that worked. He was never unhappy keeping to fixed parameters. It made him feel safe and I think because he grew up very, very poor, that was the best thing you could feel. The only reason he ever felt the need to travel outside of the Chicago metroplex was when my mother's twin sister got married and moved to Baltimore and even my father wasn't about to deny my mother summer family road trips to see her. But it stressed him mightily.

Risk. It's my word for year.
Not crazy 'whose button is bigger' risk.
Just the dream big, hell yeah I can write this story kind.

More tomorrow about some other books I'm really excited about!

Sometimes It Takes Longer

This book I'm finishing (again, for the fifth or sixth time, although not always in this particular incarnation) has been a struggle.

Various reasons for that: First it was because it was an extra project and I never seemed to have enough to time to fully flesh out where I wanted it to go. (It started as a time travel story which when you finally read it will seem impossible. But sometimes characters come to you and the basic story of them falling for each other just as everything else in the world is falling apart, and the rest is sort of window dressing. (Okay, I'm not even sure what that phrase means, but out it popped this morning and I mean for it to reflect the idea that the rest is just setting and plot points but the character arc is the idea I need first and foremost and that has never wavered.)

Another reason: At one point this novel became the potential option book for one of my editors but we could never agree on certain aspects and eventually I began to feel that I was writing a book by committee and said no. I'll do something else but not this. But the story and my reasons for telling it never diminished and so I knew I simply had to get it right, mine out the gold and rip away all the extra plot lines and rambling and confusion that came from trying too hard to please other people.

There are other reasons I could illuminate, all of them legitimate, but in the end I think it is safe to say that ultimately, I hit a wall that I hadn't hit before and I had to step back. I've talked about this before, most recently on Cynthia Leitich Smith's blog, CYNSATIONS in a guest post about surviving and thriving long term in a writing career.  If you read the whole series (which I think is still ongoing), you will see some definite similarities in other authors' posts. The industry shifts. Your previous books aren't the financial success everyone hoped. You have time issues or family issues or you just have to stop and fill the well.

Stepping back is hard. The publishing world keeps rolling and the book deals keep getting announced, the festival invites invited, the movie deals confirmed, and there you are, on draft 6, trying to stay hopeful.

Publishing is about many things, but hype is a huge one. We authors love to tell you how busy we are, how many words we've written, how many events we're doing, how stressed we are about all those things, how much you are going to LOVE THIS NEW BOOK, how happy we are to have made this list or that list or whatever list. Mostly, we need to do this because it's part of how the business works.

One of my roles at the bookstore is now Children's Book Buyer and let me tell you, hype is real on that end, too. Editors and publicists send us a LOT O' STUFF (info, swag, notes, posters, bookmarks, more swag, some of it even candy!) about certain books.

So between author generated hype and publisher generated hype,  and the general crazy of social media, sitting at your laptop in the wee hours of the morning before work, plodding through draft six of a book (even if you LOVE IT) is sometimes a tricky thing. You feel invisible most days and then suddenly one day you're kind of okay with that because it feels like it felt before you were published. Just exciting and hopeful and totally passionately authentic.

More on all this tomorrow.

Til then!

Booking It

I have not blogged much over the past year and a half. It's not that I haven't had much to say, it's just that at first much of it was frustrated and sad and sometimes angry (as publishing and the world can cause) and then once I was back on track I had gotten out of the habit, was balancing a new job (more on that in a minute), had a bunch of life issues (some good, some not so good) and while I do blog regularly at YA OUTSIDE THE LINES, this blog, which I had curated so faithfully for almost a decade, fell to the wayside.

But. New Year. (Hello 2018!) New start.

Revamped Blog with a focus on publishing as always but through dual points of view: Author and Bookseller because since August of 2016, I've been the Children's Specialist at a wonderful indie bookstore here in Houston and it has taught me so much about the industry, helped me grow in a million ways, and informed what I write and how I write in ways I never expected. So I'll still be talking about writing and my own books and the writing classes I teach, and craft, and all the usual life stuff. Plus I get crazy wonderful access to ARCS -- so many ARCS! So we'll still be talking books a lot. Obviously.

Like right now I'm really excited for everyone to read Holly Black's CRUEL PRINCE, which drops this week. Oh how I've missed Holly's faerie worlds and this book will delight her loyal fans like me and those of you who have not read her before. Jude is a fully human child, as is her younger sister, but her mother had married a faerie and had a child (their older sister) and then escaped back to the human world. But her ex catches up with her and takes Jude and her sisters back to faerie. (Okay yeah, there's some shocking and well-told violence that happens first.) And now Jude is 16 and navigating a world that's not hers and the cruelty of handsome, cruel Prince Carden and his friends, and then it turns out that Jude (who is not truly at home anywhere by now) wants more. She wants power. And she's going to get it. Oh the political machinations! Oh the surprises! Oh this book!

We'll also be talking about what booksellers do and taking some peeks at things like what a buyer does and how it's totally amazing that we're in this reversal moment where indie bookstores are thriving while the big box bookstores are struggling to figure out what to do next. We'l probably have some chats about the Amazon factor. Because how can you leave out that elephant in the room? But let me repeat: Indie bookstores are thriving anyway.

I'll leave it at that for now.
I'm glad to be back.
Til next time!

YA SCAVENGER HUNT: WELCOME CHELSEA BOBULSKI !!

THE HUNT IS OVER FOR NOW. STAY TUNED FOR THE FALL 2017 HUNT!!

BUT! MY PERSONAL GIVEAWAY IS ON FOR A FEW MORE HOURS. SEE BELOW.

Welcome to YA Scavenger Hunt! This bi-annual event was first organized by author Colleen Houck as a way to give readers a chance to gain access to exclusive bonus material from their favorite authors...and a chance to win some awesome prizes! At this hunt, you not only get access to exclusive content from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt. Add up the clues, and you can enter for our prize--one lucky winner will receive one signed book from each author on the hunt in my team! But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online for 72 hours! The Spring YA Scavenger Hunt goes live on Tuesday, April 4th at 12 pm Pacific Time and comes down on Sunday, April 9th at noon Pacific time.  

And as promised, here is my own extra bonus giveaway!! It is for U.S. readers only because of shipping costs. Check out the Rafflecopter below and enter to win a paperback copy of IT WASN’T ALWAYS LIKE THIS!  5 winners will be chosen!!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Debut novels, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Parenthood and Other Things on My Mind

1. Been reading the arc of debut author Katie Bayerl's PSALM FOR LOST GIRLS and I'm really excited about this one. Was the mc's older sister really hearing voices from God? And what of the other mysteries that are floating around? Just a little way in so I'll have more to say soon. Initial thoughts: Bayerl's got skills! And this one is different in that way you hope for. Put this on your TBR list for next year.

2. And speaking of things everyone should read: This piece by Ta-Nehisi Coates in The Atlantic. I cannot stop thinking about it and re-reading it. If you have not been reading Coates on racism in America, you need to start. Here's the link to this article. https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2017/01/my-president-was-black/508793/

3. Can't wait to see La La Land and also Manchester by Sea.

4. Finishing the novel that's been my struggle for months now. I think I'll make that end of the year goal.

5. In season 4 of Parenthood, our months long on and off binge and oh this show!! It is such a fine ensemble piece and it has made me weep good tears many times.


Next time: I'll be talking about my new job at a local indie bookstore.

I'm Back!!

Oh 2016! What a strange up and down year you've been. Life and the world and a book that I hoped to finish by the end of March that I'm now hoping to finish by the end of the year and some definite emotional ups and downs with the insanity known as publishing... it's been a crazy year and thus my absence and in general the scant amount of posts this year. 17 until this one! That's barely a voice.

Anyway.
Anyway.

I'm back.
So much to say.
Excited to say it.

Stay tuned, gentle readers.
I'm baaaaaack.

Til next time.
Which will be very very soon!

On Writing, Prison, and Sitting on a Plastic Chair in the Texas Heat

Was supposed to guest speak last night at a minimum security women’s prison facility where a friend is currently teaching creative writing. She’d gotten permission to bring in guest authors and so I was the first, but there was some snafu and when we arrived at five last night for the three hour class, I was somehow still not fully vetted. Some quiet drama ensued, although not on my part. Once you’ve taught a few decades in the public school system, you understand that sometimes, this is what happens in institutions and in this case, I really get it. You can’t just walk into a prison because you say you were invited. That kind of thing is no one’s friend.

Still. The education supervisor was called to attempt to sort things out. My friend went to teach her class. And I was instructed –okay, ordered actually—to sit on a hard plastic chair in the heat by Control and not move. And so I did until the supervisor eventually strode back. Honestly, it was relaxing: it’s a pretty place, more like a junior college campus if you ignore the barbed wire at the top of the fence—lots of trees and flowers and plants—and there was a breeze and I had my chair. I had left my cell in the car and so it was just me and nature and the guard behind the tinted glass and the occasional other contract worker checking in.

Mostly I thought about the questions the inmates had written for their instructor and which she had passed on to me—the things they wanted to know about writing and publishing and the act of creating art in this particular way—the ones I was going to talk about.

They were the usual sorts of things—questions about process and revision and what editors do, and how to find an agent and what if you’ve self-published and what to do about writer’s block and how you get paid.

But as I was on my plastic chair and they were in their classroom, I didn’t get to answer any of those. Instead, I sat and thought about how when my friend had received her training for this job she’d been reminded not to reveal any personal facts to her students. This makes sense in the setting and context. But how I wondered as I looked at the flowers and heard the traffic wooshing by on the road just outside the fence, do you talk about writing and inspiration without getting personal, other than in vague, general terms? It felt suspiciously like the time one of my former supervisors had informed the English department that it didn’t matter—not at all—what novels we taught or if we even taught just excerpts. We were there to teach skills. You could do that with anything.

Well, yeah. (And if that person is reading this, let me now say what was in my head during that department meeting: No. No. No. That’s kind of, um, bullshit. You know that, right?)

Anyway. It seemed that what was happening last night was a sort of metaphor for what they were collectively asking. Publishing is often, although not always, a series of amazing moments (when you get a story right; when someone acquires your book; when there’s a lovely review; when you type THE END) punctuated by frustration and dead ends and the occasional crushing disappointment. (Like wanting to hear a guest speaker who is stuck sitting on a plastic chair in the heat.)

If I had been in the room—and I know by now that you realize that matters were not sorted out last night and that eventually, the class ended early since the main attraction was not in attendance, the supervisor hugged me and said she was sorry, really sorry, and my friend and I went to the bar at the local Saltgrass for fried zucchini and a coke for her and a glass of cab for me—here is what I would have said about writing, the part that is in between the lines of my answers to all those many questions:

You can indeed save yourself through writing, but don’t expect writing to save you. There will be days when you get it right and still it doesn’t matter. There will be days when someone reads your story and really, really gets it and you feel there is nothing better in this world than having communicated your thoughts on what it means to be human—the good, the bad, the mundane, the glorious, the small, petty and awful and tragic (because that is what writing is about regardless of genre). By the next evening, you may equally feel that you are not quick enough, not smart enough, not talented in any way. You are too old or too young or not cool enough or too cool. (Is there such a thing?) You are too loud or too quiet. Your language is too rough or not rough enough.

You started too early. Or too late. Life intervened in a variety of ways. You are not the flavor of the week. Or you are and it’s overwhelming and you are afraid. Someone else has won the prize, gotten the golden ticket and there you are, fingers on the laptop keys, typing as fast as you can. You are trying to please the wrong people or the right people but in the wrong ways.

 You are stuck on a plastic chair in the heat.

Write anyway. Write the story only you can tell. Tell the truth on the page even if it’s hard and painful and scary. Treat it like a job not a hobby. Study. Read. Write some more. Your story has value. Tell it.

But don’t expect writing to give you anything in return. A thin, tricky line, that. Sometimes, you have to back away and let it go for a bit. Find a different way. Remind yourself to keep your eyes on your own paper.

Keep writing, I would have told them. Keep at it.