Why am I writing a YA novel? That's a question people ask me frequently... after "Oh, you're a writer" comes "What kind of book are you writing?" and then... "why Young Adult?"
And my answer is because there's so much more room for imagination!
I think my WIP is teetering between middle grade and YA... although mostly that's because the age of the protagonist keeps changing. I can't decide how old she should be, really... originally she was 7 or 8 and now she is 16. I felt like some of the situations she found herself in were a little too overwhelming for an 8 year-old.
Now, I know that YA can be serious and can deal with some serious issues, too. And I love, love, love that about the demographic. Teens deal with some heavy stuff. They also need YA to open their eyes to people living lives that are distinctly different from their own. I remember reading "Dicey's Song" by Cynthia Voigt when I was a kid... and loving Dicey so much... and feeling like the life she lived was so completely foreign to me.
But the ability to put my characters into a world of magic and folklore come to life is largely restricted to the MG/YA demographic. Yes there's sci-fi/fantasy for adults... but it's all so ... ADULT... and I don't know... I just feel like YA has more fun. Am I wrong?
Every author dreams of writing the next great American novel... of winning the Pulitzer or some other prestigious award... those are good things to dream of, for sure. But realistically... I just want to have fun with my characters, to enjoy their growth and progression through the story. So I guess I'll have to put off the Pulitzer Prize winning work for the NEXT NaNoWriMo. Ha!
What about YOU? Why do you write for YA/Teens/Middle Grade? Why do you choose fantasy for your WIP? I'm curious!!!
It's always a good idea to participate on the web... I've been a tentative voice from the beginning... saying things here on my blog where I only have a few followers... and shyly commenting, although I'm getting bolder. Well, I decided I want to expand my reach... I want to join more actively in the conversation of the writers' world in the blog-iverse. So I'm joining in the Rach Writes Writers' Platform-building Campaign. I mean, why not, right? If anything, hopefully I will meet some new people in the on-line world of writers. And that's my goal for the campaign... because... aside from that I'm not REALLY sure what it is... I am just jumping in and trying it!
Whee!
In other news... it's February... but this February could not be more different from the last. Last year, we had SO MUCH SNOW!!! It was everywhere... piled up... packed in... and it was sooooo ccccoooollllddddd! This year we've had so many 50 degree days that even the swans got confused, thought it was spring, and came back to the pond.
The water in front of the swan is actually ice!
One thing I have accomplished this winter that I'm proud of is this quilt. I am excited to have finished it and that it didn't fall apart when I washed it!
Now if I could just have the same experience with my WIP, I'd be golden. Hopefully I'll meet some new people through this campaign who will help me find the courage I need to get it done.
I know, I know... 3 posts in 3 days from me... it's almost too much to handle! It's the first Wednesday in the month and I'm joining in on Alex Cavanaugh's Insecure Writer's Support Group. If you're a writer and you have insecurities you would like to share, you should join us... and if you're a writer and you haven't got any insecurities, would you PLEASE share how you came to be so self-confident?
I guess my insecurity for this week has to do with copy, or frequent lack thereof. I find myself more often than not staring at a blank screen and not able to think of anything to say. Or worse, I don't even turn on the computer because I feel like nothing I could think of (if I COULD think of anything) would be interesting or worth putting down in print. And then I hear that oft repeated adage "A writer writes..." and I think to myself, well... I'm not writing, so I must not be a writer. And downward I spiral into a pit of deep despair.
So I guess that leads me to the problem of well meaning but ill timed/placed ... encouragement... for lack of a better word. As an insecure writer who has struggled with identity and where I fit in all this wide and varied world of blog posts, novels, novellas, poetry, short stories, news articles, etc., etc., etc., I can tell you that even "A writer writes..." can kill a budding creative spirit. Well... maybe not kill it, but definitely set it back.
The thing I keep coming back to is that she's different for everyone, the muse. For some lucky souls she is a slave driver, an unforgiving mistress that forces you to stay up late pouring words from your fingertips to the page. That's not who she is for me... for me, she's coy and fleeting, stifled by a wide variety of worries that need to be quelled and frightened of monster doubts that need to be re-captured and caged.
One way that I am finding help in these past few weeks is through this awesome network of writers on the web. Between IWSG, YA and Teen Tuesday, and Knights of Microfiction, there are some really great ways for me to stretch out my figurative vocal chords, get the words flowing, and encourage the muse to come out and play. And I keep working on my doubts and monsters... and keep my WIP open in the background to remind me that there is more to be done.
So, my YA post for the week is a cheat, really... it's more about children's literature... and actually, I'm going to let Maurice Sendak and Steven Colbert say it. (Maurice Sendak, by the way... is AWESOME!!!)
Best line of this interview "I don't write for children... I write... and somebody says 'That's for children'"
I think that kind of writing produces the best books. It's one thing to market and hit a target demographic... but in the end you just gotta write your story.
I thought I'd participate in this new monthly blog hop of Write. Skate. Dream.'s and Imagine Today's. It's a chance to do a little flash fiction writing and oil the gears of my imagination a little. Play along if you will :)
Write a Flash Fiction (MicroFiction) piece in 250 words or less about someone who's done something wrong but doesn't have the guts to apologize. Whether they end up apologizing or not is up to you.
Here's my entry:
Stupid, stupid, stupid… my face was burning. How could I be so stupid? I looked at the smoldering, melted mess that used to be my sister’s yoga mat. The smell of incense and burning plastic seared the back of my throat. And there’s the smoke alarm. Fantastic.
I hurried around the apartment opening windows and waving frantically at the smoke detector. Fandango, Aya’s preening Pomeranian, danced yapping about my feet, his wagging tail and sparkling eyes mocking me. At least he couldn’t talk… he couldn’t tell Aya what I’d done. “You just better keep your tiny little dog lips sealed, got it?” I threatened. Great. I’m threatening a Pomeranian. I sighed.
I gathered up the molten mess of mat and stuffed it into a trash bag from under the kitchen sink. I took one last look around the apartment, sniffing the air to make sure the burning smell was completely gone. Eh. Could be worse, I suppose. I’d better hurry up and get out of here before she comes home and catches me. Oh wait, the dog!
“Damn it Fandango, get back in your crate, you little monster!” I chased the gleeful pup around the kitchen island for the fifth time. “Gotcha!” Fandango screeched as I dived and grabbed him by the middle and shoved him in his crate. “Remember, I was never here!”
Ok, I admit two things. One, I'm 34, and so using the phrase "Remember when..." sort of rings a little hollow. I've done a lot of looking back recently, and talking about former times. I still feel too young to be waxing nostalgic.
Second admission... Just now when I typed the title "Remember when..." for this post the song "Crocodile Rock" by Elton John popped into my head and it's stuck there. Please tell me you know the song... No? Yes? Well, for better or worse, here it is:
And piggy-backing on that second admission, here's a third... I LOVE THAT SONG :) It makes me get all wiggly and smile a lot. Ha!
Ok, back to the point... I'm borrowing from the lovely and talented Margo Berendsen, who last week wrote about teenage love. I partook in a lively discussion about whether it was appropriate to portray teenage love that seems like it will last forever, that has such intense "I'd-die-for-you" qualities as a lot of the books out there right now do (i.e. Twilight, The Forest of Hands and Teeth, come on you name 'em). There was some argument that the kind of love in those books wasn't "realistic" enough.
To which I laugh... firstly because realism is hardly what I look for or expect when I pick up a Young Adult novel. But the question, I guess, pertains to my expectation as well. Should I expect the love stories contained in Young Adult fiction to be more 'realistic'?
My argument in the whole thing was that, apart from the "happily ever after" bit, the way love is portrayed in a book like Twilight (even Romeo and Juliet) is completely realistic in an overly dramatic, "I'd rather die than live without you" kind of way. I know, I know... it sounds like a paradox. How can you be realistic and overly dramatic at the same time? Try being a teenager.
It was a while ago for me, but not so long that I haven't forgotten how it felt to be in love as a teenager. Of course, the love I felt was hardly requited (ah the life of the awkward youth)... but that even added an edge of proving just how deeply smitten I was in the hopes that my love would be recognized as THE love. Still not relating? Really, you must have the emotions of an automaton then.
So in my auto-biographical example, "he" wasn't the most popular kid in school, although he was well liked by many people. I thought he was the most handsome boy minus one... he had the most beautiful singing voice... and he was prone to his own fits of melodrama that made him desperately tragic. Plus, he was one of my best friends (read that as, he was way too nice to tell me I was a loser)... and I spent a lot of time hanging out with him. Not that he would ever read this blog, but if any of you knew me in high school you know who he is, too.
It's not like I kept my feelings a secret. My heart was LITERALLY on my sleeve... well, ok, not Literally... but you get the idea. If you had asked me to, I would have jumped (off of what?) for him, I'm fairly certain. No he never returned my feelings... but that just meant I needed to prove how desolate my life was without him!
So, now... all these years later... I'm so over that phase of my life... I moved to California and now to the East Coast again... I met a wonderful, amazing man whom I have been married to for 9 years... and I know that love is more than the wibbly-wobbly feelings in my stomach... that it's so much richer when it's requited (ha... a given, that...)... and that it takes effort, tenacity, open-mindedness, vulnerability... that the flash in the pan is not the staying power of a lasting marriage. That doesn't invalidate the experience I had when I was young, though.
And THAT is why those books are so popular... it's because we all recognize the echo of our own teenage loves that we wish had lasted for an eternity in the story of Bella and Edward. I am in NO WAY defending Twilight as a good book... as I said on Margo's blog, Bella's character makes me want to choke on my own bile. But that's partly because I have grown up, grown out of that stage of helpless mush. But the echo, the resonance with our past, that's what gives these stories their popularity... it's precisely because they ARE realistic... realistically unrealistic.
Thoughts? There's an underlying question here of whether you think literature should exist to edify or entertain... should books portray more "realistic" love for teens to learn what that looks like? Hmmm... I'd love to hear what people have to say about this.
This post fits with the meme Young Adult Teen Tuesday started by Shari Larsen over at Writers Ally in that it is almost Tuesday and the post is about teens in love and grew out of Margo's post along the same meme from last week. So I guess I'll "join" in the conversation.
Good morning Monday. I mean, good late morning... I have been up since before the sun today... attempting the creative life... struggling to stay awake while scribbling morning pages out into the universe... reading my creative inspirational readings... and visiting the Subaru dealership to get the car serviced. Ah Monday. You sure do know how to mix together aspects of life that I wouldn't ordinarily let associate. What better way to spend an hour and a half, though? If I had to wait for the car, at least I wasn't wasting my time... not really. Ok, maybe a little. They have a TV there! (we don't have TV at home) So naturally I was a little distracted by Matt Lauer and crew... and all those commercials!
I have never been more thankful that we don't have TV (we do have A tv, but not TV, get it?) than I am at this current stage in my life. I am so easily distracted by the computer, much less the ever babbling world of modern media. If I had a conduit to that flow, I would slip into a stupor of inaction that I know I would never recover from. Sometimes I miss not knowing the pop-culture answers at pub trivia (we woulda won the other week if we only watched TV). But on the whole, I feel less anxiety... I can breathe more, better, find time to do things... or at least have one less major excuse for not doing things that I want to do.
I'm working on myself recently. Working on figuring out what my hangups are with just getting my creative projects done. It's not as if I don't have time. But something keeps holding me back from allowing myself to play and in the process be successful and creative. I think I'm getting closer to the source. The monsters have been rumbling more and I haven't been able to sleep very well. Weird dreams about werewolves and Neil Gaiman and Harry Potter...
So I have to check in with myself and ... just ... breathe ...
How do you tap into the flow of your creativity? Any hangups you would like to share?
This beautiful owl lives at the nature center a friend of mine runs in NJ.
