Ramblings of a Writer

Some Thoughts on Present Tense

2012-01-21T20:06:00.000-08:00

If you’re a regular reader of YA, one of the things you will probably have noticed is that in this genre present tense is not a rarity. In fact, in YA the amount of novels in the present tense actually seems to rival the number of dead parents.

Personally, unlike a lot of people who are concerned with the proliferation of present tense in YA because they perceive it to be a bad thing, I like present tense. I like to read in it as much as I do in any other tense, and I like to write in at as much as I do in any other tense.

So, why all the present tense, then? Why are authors using it?

To be clear, I don't think present tense needs to be justified to work. In the same way that there doesn't have to be a reason to use the past tense, there doesn't have to be a reason to use the present. But there are a few reasons, I think, that we're seeing a lot more present tense in YA these days.

The most oft-proposed reason for the use of present tense is that teens want immediacy, teens want to experience the novel with the protagonist. And present tense centres them in the action, allowing them to relate to the protagonist more intimately.

I think this theory holds merit, but I certainly don’t think it’s the only reason an author would select the present tense and I don’t think this means that novels written in past tense are automatically less relatable.

But, there are also other reasons why authors choose to write in the present tense that are largely ignored. For instance, if you intend to kill your protagonist at the end of the story and you’re writing in the first person, writing in past tense would be rather illogical (and yes, I actually have killed a protagonist at the end of a novel. I’m a bitch like that).

Or on a more theoretical level, an author might choose to employ first person narration to force the reader to consider the very construction of stories. One of the things I think is most interesting about YA, is that in a lot of ways it completely shifts away from the traditional constructs of merit/power/higher worth in literature.

Old, buttressed, canonized storytelling is – by and large, of course there are significant exceptions – masculine in its outlook and subject matter, objectively told in a past tense that contributes to a sense of a story being ‘told’, being absolute.

Using the present tense is a move away from that traditional scaffold that seems fitting given that this genre also moves the locus of power in terms of themes and point of view.

What I mean by this is that in YA, we are often less concerned with the story of a hero of noble lineage who saves the world, and are often more concerned with the story of everyday – and usually far less heroic – people, often female. And, seriously, I have never heard anything considered less worthy of being turned into literature or seriously discussed than the point of view of a teenage girl -- whose concerns must, by virtue of her age and gender, necessarily be completely trivial. Yeah, I’m rolling my eyes – I’ve got the whole rebellious teenager thing down ;)

My point is that we’re not high or traditional art, we’re an exact affront to that art. So of course, in a lot of cases, we’re not going to play by traditional rules.

Of course, present tense is also helpful in drawing attention to the fact that the story is being constructed in that the reader is aware that they are not actually in the mind of the protagonist, or author, and that these events aren’t actually occurring in real time.

There is a greater awareness that this can't be happening now, and never could have happened -- unlike with past tense, which makes the story seem like a possible retelling of real events in a lot of ways (although past tense narration draws attention to story telling in different ways).

So, present tense can be used to underscore issues of construction of self, text and society in a novel (usually I find this in postmodern adult fiction, though. But sometimes YA – I think Paper Towns by John Green goes there, if I remember correctly).

What are your thoughts on the abundance of present tense novels in YA? Does it make sense or is it just a bunch of people jumping on a bandwagon or what?

Personally, I’m waiting for someone to write a YA book completely in fourth person, future tense...

Reading You Under the Table

2012-01-09T01:00:00.000-08:00

So, so, so, I'm not sure whether or not you'll like my book, or whether you even want to read it, but what I do know is that my book is DONE. It now resembles a thing that can be read!

Yipee!

Well, almost done. I finished the last round of significant edits yesterday and right now I'm feeling somewhat pleased with the final product, somewhat nostalgic for the seventeen-year-old self who wrote this book, and somewhat terrified at not being able to tinker with it anymore.

My book being done also means that I get to return to internet land. Exciting, I know. Nothing is sweeter than the prospect of writing nerdy blog posts and watch this space because several shall be forthcoming.

But. The thing that is exciting me the most right now (I just typed 'write now' and had to erase it. Oh, the Freudian slips I make...) is the launch of my new and revamped group blog Pub(lishing) Crawl.

Pub Crawl is the latest from the girls at Let the Worlds Flow. We're beginning the month by introducing our amazing new members, beginning with the lovely Jodi Meadows! We're also doing giveaways of books you want to read and critiques your manuscript is begging you to get. There will be more giveaways throughout the month, but if you click over now, you can enter to win an ARC of Brodi Ashton's Persephone retelling EVERNEATH -- look at how pretty it is!

For those of you who haven't already clicked over to Pub Crawl with mad excitement, I would just like to say that I am super, super excited for the launch of this blog. Pub Crawl is a space that's going to be thoughtful, and entertaining and updated frequently with content that will appeal to both readers and writers alike.

And as if that's not enough, we're going to be the punniest blog around, just you wait and see -- after all, our tagline is Reading You Under the Table, Since 2012.

The Internet: Good, Bad or Ugly

2011-09-28T09:25:00.000-07:00

Heads up, this is not a post about books or reading or writing, really, although I do reference these activities.

So, if you're reading this blog you've obviously got an internet connection. And if you have an internet connection, you've likely seen a bunch of crappy articles and blog posts about how Facebook is RUINING THE WORLD. The predicted apocalypse in 2012? Facebook. Is. To. Blame.

Freaking Facebook.

This discontent, though, isn't limited to Facebook. There are a lot of people out there who seem to really dislike the internet, and in particular social media. Twitter is ruining our communication skills! We're all going to die alone, tweeting something inane! This is a social crisis people!

Seriously, why would you use the internet? You can never tell who you're talking to on the internet! For all you know your favourite blogger (is it me? is it me? ;) is a creepy ninety-year-old man!

I have a feeling that people who say things like this, beyond being prejudiced against the ninety-year-old men of the world, are borderline luddites, who never really use technology. Yes, Facebook and other social media can be an amazing waste of time. And maybe, just maybe, without the internet I would have found more interesting and self-enriching things to do when I'm in need of procrastination time.

But, man, blaming the internet for kids getting abducted? Or for riots? Or for the emotional distancing of teens from their peers? Wow, guys, I feel like it's necessary to point out that the internet is a THING.

It's not really alive. Sure, we make it alive by writing stuff all over it, and posting information to each other and what not, but guys the internet doesn't have intent.

Saying that the internet is to blame for all of our social problems is akin to saying that a rubix cube is to blame for kids' hatred of maths. I mean, those things are hard to solve! They frustrate, rather than engage! They ruin maths for us for life!

Freaking rubix cubes.

I think it's important to remember that the internet doesn't actually do shit. The internet facilitates shit that people do. PEOPLE abduct other people, people organise race riots and terrifying crimes. They may use the internet to do these things, but I don't think the internet can be held responsible, even though so many seem to want us to put it on trial (c'mon, who hasn't blamed the internet for their procrastination habits on occasion?)

But it's important, when we get caught up in internet-hate, to remember that while the internet can facilitate the bad stuff, it can also facilitate the good. To use a very personal (and relevant, considering this is a writing blog) example, I am fairly sure that I would not be a very good writer without the internet. In fact, I am fairly sure that I would only have written one novel.

Guys, I learned to actually finish novels because of NaNoWriMo. I learned how to revise them because of Absolute Write. I found my critique partners and beta readers on the internet. It's not really uncommon. I think a lot of us writers would really be nowhere if the internet did not exist.

To give a less personal example, there are some really amazing communities on the internet. Like the community that one of my favourite authors, John Green, has built up around his books. Nerdfighteria
. The goal of this community is to decrease world suck. How so? By not forgetting to be awesome.

People do really amazing things for great causes as a result of this community. People also just develop their minds in general -- it's lovely. Not least, I discover some amazing things (also on the internet!) that inspire me by keeping a vague eye on this community. For instance, a few days ago I was watching one of John Green's vlogs and I discovered this really awesome song, by this really awesome girl:

And then I revised the rest of my book to that song.

Yes, there's a lot of bad, disturbing shit on the internet, but there's also a lot of really cool stuff. The internet isn't a good or bad thing in and of itself. It's what we use it for, what we make of it.

Kind of like everything else in life.

Teaser Tuesday

2011-09-20T10:24:00.000-07:00

Last week, I posted something from the beginning of a short story. This week I'm posting something from the middle of that same short. I'm hoping that next week I'll have something from the end of it (gotta get over my inability to write short fiction). On another random note -- writing shorter stuff is a nice break from revising ze novel.

And when it was over, when you were breathless and I was breathless and I brushed a piece of your long, shaggy brown hair behind your ear because it was tickling your forehead, you said, “I love you” with that crescent moon grin on your face.

Just like any other Friday night. Any other Friday night for the past two months.
“I’d bring you the world, Tea,” you said. Do you remember how you used to say stupid things like that?

Do you remember how I never believed you?

I spread my fingers, a web against your chest and gently pushed. Pushed you back and off and said, “Okay. Goodnight.”

You used to say I was cold, then. Do you remember, how you used to say that, on the afternoons we’d sit beside the fires and you’d read me stupid poetry and I’d laugh at you and drink to you and call you an ass? But I wasn’t cold. I was never cold.

I just knew you were lying. You would never bring me the world.

You would only bring me to Andy McTavish. You would put a gun in my hand. And you’d have a gun in yours, holding Andy at arm’s length. You would only say, “I can do this for you, I can, but I need you to do this. I need you to do this.”

And so I kissed the gun to Andy’s temple, ignored his pleading. Ignored his sweat. Ignored the way it smelt like he’d just shit. “Please –“ he whispered to me, but how many times had I said the same thing to Andy? How many times had he ignored it?

I pulled the trigger.

And you. You thought you had brought me the world.

Guest Post...

2011-09-17T07:42:00.000-07:00

I wrote a post on my path to publication here.

Check it out, if you're interested.

Teaser Tuesday

2011-08-30T08:16:00.000-07:00

I've been trying my hand at short stories lately. I've always sucked at them, so they tend to turn into something longer. This is the slightly disturbing beginning of one of them.

I never dreamed of heaven before we killed Andy McTavish.

Afterwards, do you remember, we went to that seedy motel, because I don’t think we knew where else to go? That was the first night that the dreams came.

You breezed out the door almost as soon as we got there, saying that you were starving. Your smile was so easy. Fluid. Flowing over your lips like running water.

And as the door fluttered shut behind you, I remember being struck with a sense of how wrong everything was. We’d just killed a man. How could I be sitting there, on that warm red quilted bed, watching you head out into the night for greasy food? It was too casual. Too typical Friday night.

I remember how I searched myself, looking for something different, some change in my soul. Because we killed him. We killed Andy. I remember how I couldn’t find any change. How guilt didn’t churn my stomach. I remember how, eventually, I turned on the TV and laughed at Jerry Seinfeld’s jokes.

And when you came back, nudging the green door open with your shoulder, a paper bag in your hands, I got that feeling that I always got when I saw you. I wanted to impress you. I wanted to be funny. So I tried my own joke. “Out damn spot,” I cried, scrubbing at my hand. “Not all the perfumes of Arabia…but wait, wait, wait, why didn’t I think to try deodorant before?”

You laughed, even though my joke was forced rather than funny. “I’m not guilty, just goddamn hungry,” you said.

You’d bought a roast chicken and a bottle of wine. We ate with our fingers, because we had no cutlery, and the oil slid up our hands, slicked our fingers. We didn’t have glasses either, but I pulled the water bottle I always carried with me out of my bag. And you poured the wine in straight over the water, the two mixing together.

Your Characters Should Exist in Time

2011-08-21T13:00:00.000-07:00

So, this is a post on characterisation. I want to start all the posts I write about, you know, writing, over here with a big, huge disclaimer: I am not an authority. I am just a girl who reads a lot and writes a lot and thinks a lot and sometimes thinks she's figured some stuff out.

But anyway, let's get back to characterisation.

I think one of the easiest traps to fall into with characterisation, especially of protagonists (I think this is actually okay for secondary characters) is to view their identity as, essentially, defined by materiality. Okay. So what I mean by this is that, too often, I read characters who are defined by things. Oh, he/she is intelligent, and must therefore own a lot of books about quantum physics. And, you know, I actually think that this kind of material characterisation is okay, and in fact really good in most cases -- it involves the character *doing* something. Namely, reading books about quantum physics.

I am not, by any means saying that characters who have hobbies in the present, things that they cling on to are bad or poorly developed. On the other hand if the material crutch that an author leans on is, say, the kind of clothes or make up the character chooses to wear -- I get a little bit more leery.

Now, if clothing, and buying clothing (or make up) is a big part of the story then that's a-okay. It's exactly like the earlier quantum physics example -- it involves the protagonist *doing* something. But. If clothing is simply used as lazy characterisation -- as a way to slot the character into a certain archetypal mould -- then as a reader? I get pissed off.

I'm not saying that you shouldn't describe your characters' clothing. It can add to characterisation, can set up that initial archetype -- I think for instance, Harry Potter's skinny frame along with the baggy t-shirts and sellotaped glasses was a good intial set-up of character. But I'm saying that it shouldn't be where your characterisation ENDS. I'm saying that you need to move beyond the material.

It's hard to stop defining your character by the things that they possess, and to start defining them by the things that they do. It's even harder to get beyond the things that they do, and hit at who they truly are. I mean, when asked, "Who is that woman?" A standard answer in our society would be something along the lines of, "Oh, that's Nancy. She's a nurse". The conflation between what we do -- job wise especially -- and who we are is there on a lot of levels.

And of course, what we do does feed into what we are.

But I think there is a certain fabric beneath that exterior, a fabric of self that is defined in time rather than in things-done or things-owned. A character is not just the sum of all their parts. They're the sum of all their parts, and all the parts they used to have but are no longer in their possession.

Let me give you an example of what I'm talking about. Say a character is presently a very, very confident person. Perhaps over confident. But when they were younger, they were a shy, self-conscious, overweight boy. That element of their past will be hanging over them, will be taken with them through their life.

It's the same for less defining moments. Childhood trips, lame inside jokes with friends, ways of texting or speaking that seem so embarrassing to you when you're older, modes of thinking that you outgrow. Sometimes, it's the most insignificant things that stick with people, lingering 'ghost' parts of their sum. For instance, I frequently think back to a moment in my childhood when I snicked my finger against a piece of paper and a few motes of dust settled on my skin.

So you need to weave your character's past not necessarily into the story, but into your character, into the way that they approach and respond to their world.

And it's the same with the future. The character needs to have some kind of expectation for the future -- it doesn't need to be a complex plan of any kind, it can just be a feeling "bleak" or "happy" or "bittersweet" or "messy". Or it can be more specific like "wedded bliss" or "career security" or "ten kids" or "first woman on Saturn".

Humans are decoders. We're constantly trying to work this life out, constantly making both minor and major plans -- not having a character be aware that there *is* a future would seem odd, to me. Let your character guess at the future, as if trying to predict an upcoming plot twist in a novel. Let what they see or predict influence them, whether for good or ill.

This is not to say that your characters need to spend a lot of time obsessing about their past, present and future and how all three relate to each other. I think good, rounded characters just display awareness of this dynamic very naturally.

For instance, in the last book I read (apart from stuff for class) Hannah Moskowitz's Invincible Summer, the protagonist, Chase's story is structured around four summers. You don't see the time that passes between those summers, but that time bumps over into Chase and the other characters. The pull of the past on Chase -- those idyllic summers from when he was younger -- and his absolute terror of a future (he's called Everboy by another character) and where it will take him, and his falling-apart family, adds a lot of weight to his characterisation.

For me, more so than if he'd randomly had a whole slew of hobbies (random sidenote: a lot of people seem to read character = hobbies and...I don't know. I don't think it's a bad idea to give your characters hobbies, or extracurricular activities. I just don't know that many people in real life who are super-duper passionate about their hobbies, or super-talented at anything. Sure, there are a few musicians, public speakers, artists etc but I think pretending that everyone has a talent, and pursues that as a hobby is a bit disingenuous. I think it's perfectly possible to just chill the vast majority of the time and be a very well rounded individual).

I guess what I'm trying to say here, in a nutshell is that our characters are not the sum of their parts. They are the sum of their parts, and the sum of the parts of their past selves, and the sum of the parts for their future selves. They are dynamic beings who exist in time, who are constantly changing.

And actually acknowledging this dynamic is one of the keys to creating a well-rounded, compelling character.

Teaser Tuesday!

2011-08-16T06:44:00.000-07:00

I haven't done one of these in a while, so I figured I'd remedy that. This little, unedited excerpt is from a manuscript called BREAKING SKIN, which is not YA (shocking) and is so weird that I don't know whether I'll ever be able to do anything with it.

I have never been as aware of the sky as I was in Devlin. Of its sheer size and might, its ability to put a roof over the entire world. When I was a child, it inspired so much awe in me that I used to sit out on the back deck, with a mug of cocoa warming my fingers, and our old mutt Rusty warming my feet, humming beneath my breath, staring at the sky.

I never read constellations, or tried to chart the future. I didn’t need to, because at night in Devlin the stars poured across the sky thicker than whipped cream across a pavlova, and you felt that just watching them, just holding them in your line of vision, a little piece of magic might find its hideaway inside you. It’s one of the things I miss most about Devlin, the ache that the sky, the landscape, could put in you.

It’s different, here in Melbourne, the sky -- some of its grandeur is lost. Especially at night when the stars are few and far between, scattered pinpricks of light, easily outshone by car tail-lights.

You Are Not Always Right

2011-07-30T08:56:00.000-07:00

This post isn't necessarily to do with writing. Although, in order to be a good writer I think you really do need to embrace this attitude. I think you need to truly know this, in your bones, your soul, whatever. You are not always right.

I want to focus in on the "always" part of that statement, because I truly believe that most people are sometimes right, or even often right, particularly when it concerns their own writing, or their own worldview. They may not be choosing the view that is right for everyone, but they are choosing the view that is right for them (understanding that there are viewpoints other than your own, on a way of writing, a text, a social issue, that are just as valid and reasoned is a whole separate issue, but seriously people need to chill out a bit. An opinion is an opinion, nothing more. Perhaps a post for another day).

But sometimes, just sometimes, I personally get this little niggling feeling, usually in response to something that someone has said about my work, or about the way I'm living my life (although these kinds of comments can be incredibly annoying, even if the assessments are correct), about a certain view or opinion that I hold. It's usually a bit of a wake up call, and one that leads to me re-examining my instincts. Which is a good thing. A really, really good thing.

Because that is what discourse is about. That's why we're constantly in dialogue with each other. To develop our selves, our opinions, our ways of being and thinking in the context of the stream of information passing around us.

So it disturbs me when people (and often people who profess to be trying to perpetuate discussion) are unable to acknowledge that they may just be wrong. That they are fallible and human. Sometimes, writers disturb me with their inability to see that headhopping might not be the best thing for their manuscript, or telling rather than showing the climactic action. Sometimes, the absolutism of internet discussion and the group think that stems from them also disturbs me (some of the responses to the WSJ debacle were along these lines in tone, for me. That's subjective. You may not agree, and that's fine).

This carries over into real life, too. It disturbs me when people can't see that their racism, classism, sexism, homophobia might not be the best attitude to hold.

Sometimes, just sometimes, you (and I) are wrong. And you've got to sacrifice your pride, and your apathy and whatever else is preventing you from admitting that you're wrong. You've got to examine whatever someone's said to trigger that reaction in you, whether it be a critique of your writing, an article that destabilises your worldview, a person who calls you out on your use of certain language, and use it to try and change yourself.

Because no, you are not always right. But that is perfectly okay.

Give yourself permission to be wrong.

Goodbye, Childhood aka the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Post

2011-07-16T07:52:00.000-07:00

I was nearly late to the ending of my childhood.

I'd only gotten home at 2AM in the morning, and the end was to begin at 9:30. I was still a child, so obviously, I slept in just a little too long before hauling my ass out of bed. And because the world was conspiring against me on this morning in particular, my bus with the petrol fumes spilling out the back into the crisp morning air, pulled up around ten minutes late.

Still. I made it there on time -- well, only a minute or two late -- for the end. Even if I did have to run down George St, and take a short cut through the train stations beneath the city streets. It was all worth it to get there on time.

Later, my friend told me that if I'd come five minutes earlier I'd have experienced the best part. The way the girls and boys, eighteen, nineteen, twenty and dressed in preppy school uniforms with a crest featuring a familiar badger, snake, eagle and lion all surrounding a large letter H, greeted each other by saying, "Hello, fellow wizards."

Me, I think this kind of nerdiness is awesome. I think, in my childhood, I would have found it more awesome. I'm sad I missed it, but at least I was there, stumbling up the cinema steps into the hushed, darkened theatre before the movie began.

I want to say that I loved the movie. That I loved every last minute of my childhood's ending, but the truth is that sometimes I was distracted. By a friend's melodramatic laughter, or tears, the way she accidentally knocked an entire tub of popcorn into the aisle by jumping at one point. And my 2AM bedtime the night before meant that sometimes, just sometimes, my attention was divided between the dark lord vs Harry and my sleepiness, or the chill of the cinema.

Still, it was amazing. I no longer want to experience a transformation like Cinderella. I want to experience a transformation like a female version of Neville Longbottom. And Bellatrix Lestrange, you bitch, I am so glad that you didn't get Molly's daughter. Old Draco was such a laugh. Albus Severus Potter sniffed every ten seconds and was adorable and Severus Snape made me tear up behind my 3D glasses.

I wished that it wouldn't end, but it did. My childhood slowly died. It only took a few hours, and by the end of it, I felt grown up. More grown up than I did after my eighteenth birthday. More grown up, even, than when I go out and don't get asked for ID.

Afterwards, we hung around the cinema, staring at the posters of characters who'd become our childhood friends. We milled around in the shabby exhibition the cinema had put together, marvelling over bits and bobs of paper from the films of the set. The stupidest things, really, apart from this gorgeous dress of Luna Lovegood's, but there was a sense that you had to marvel. You had to be awed, because this was the end.

And then we left the scene of the crime, the place where our childhoods died, and we went and got lunch. At an almost respectable establishment that didn't serve hamburgers or french fries or pizza or anything like that. And then we went to a cafe and I ordered two long blacks, because God, I was still tired from the night before. And the barista looked at me like I was crazy, because how many people my age like their coffee that strong with no sugar?

But my childhood had just died. I wasn't in the mood to justify the maturity of my youth.

Much later that day, when I got home, I searched for my ticket. The one with cinema 3 and that fantastic title, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, emblazoned upon it. I dumped the entire contents of my wallet and bag out onto my desk, turning over odd small change from foreign countries that I didn't even know I had in the process, but it wasn't there. The ticket was gone. My childhood was gone.

So, this is me saying, goodbye childhood. I'm hoping to look back on you frequently (Pottermore had better be good...)

PS. Forgive me for the dorkiness of this post.

PPS. If I owe you an email, I'm terribly sorry and I'll get back to you soon. I've had a crazily busy time recently.

I can haz title?

2011-06-14T20:20:00.000-07:00

So, today I'm being incredibly self-absorbed and posting purely about me, myself, myself and my book. Some of you may remember that the initial title for my book was THE GNOME IS WATCHING, and that after it sold, that changed to UNTITLED (for various reasons). I've been in title limbo for about six months, but now I finally have a title *happydance*

My book is going to be called FALL TO PIECES. I think it's super cool. Especially since I can pinpoint the exact scenes in the novel that it's about (hopefully they'll still be there when the book releases, and then you guys can try to figure them out).

Just wanted to share my excitement with you! And I promise next time I blog it will be something less self-absorbed/focused on my book in particular.

YA, Responsibility, Consequences

2011-06-08T04:48:00.000-07:00

When you write YA, and you're at all connected to the online community, you often see people who are new to the genre asking questions like, "Can my main character hold a gun?" "Can my characters have sex?" "Can they drink?" "Can they have drugs?" and "Can my main character swear?"

The more experienced writers cry, "Jesus. Freaking (perhaps something less polite, if they happen to write 'edgy' YA ;)). Christ. Have you read any YA? Ever."

It's an understandable reaction (I know I react like this sometimes), but I think the people with those questions are less naive/time-wasting as we often think they are. In light of the recent WSJ article (which is a piece of shite, so I'm not even linking to it, and if you don't know what I'm talking about, resist your google fu. It's not worth the time. And no, this is not another blogpost about the article), it's clear that a lot of people believe that the purpose of YA is to teach. To illuminate the right path for the youth of today.

And my question to you guys is, should YA be didactic?

The knee-jerk answer is, of course, NO. We always hear agents and editors and everyone else in the world saying, "No messages. No morals. Don't preach, tell a good story first and foremost". But I've always taken that to mean, don't overtly preach. Theme, to me (subtly explored theme, anyway) is a huge part of what makes a book transcendental. REVOLUTION by Jennifer Donnelly (which is awesome. You should read it if you haven't) wouldn't have the same flavour without the theme at the heart of it: brutality rules the world, but not necessarily us as individuals.

Beyond this, beyond me thinking that a theme is a truly important thing to have and subtly explore (it's not like Donnelly is like, "HERE IS MY THEME, TAKE THAT READER," every two pages), I think that there are contradictory messages even within the writing community on whether or not messages are important. I mean, there are a lot of people who want to see CONSEQUENCES to every. single. goddamn action.

They want to see the girl who drinks occasionally have something bad happen to her as a result of that drinking. If the kids have sex, even just once, there MUST be a baby. Or an STI.

If someone takes drugs, it must be made clear, clear, clear that DRUGS ARE BAD. BAD. BAD I TELL YOU. Maybe the character can become an addict and wind up in the gutter and then work their way back to being a normal person. If a character speeds in their car, they're obviously going to be involved in a crash.

I've seen a lot of people, within the community, argue essentially that if we DON'T show these consequences, we're neglecting our responsibility to our audience. That we're teaching them bad things, and they're impressionable, and we shouldn't do that. And that kind of attitude betrays us, because it shows that no matter what we say, a lot of us think that YA has a didactic purpose.

I disagree (you guessed it, didn't you? It was like an overly foreshadowed plot point that you could see from chapter one) with this attitude, completely, however. Firstly because, you know, I am a teenager in real life (I know, another shoddily foreshadowed plot point. It's in my sidebar and all). And I know other teenagers.

And guess what? Sometimes, we're irresponsible. Does the kid who speeds always wind up in an accident, or get a ticket, or lose their license? Hell, no. Does the kid who drinks always wind up an alcoholic, totally alienating everyone around them, losing everyone's respect? No. Does the kid who takes drugs wind up an addict, or have a really horrible come down, or something else terrible? No. Does sex (unprotected) always lead to a pregnancy? No.

You know, when people take risks like this? There are rarely BIG EXPLOSIVE consequences. In my opinion, it is not irresponsible to not have consequences for these actions. It's just being honest. And as a reader, I find it refreshing when the characters can smoke and drink and have nothing too bad come of it (Looking For Alaska, The Absolute Value of -1).

Seriously, I think we need a diverse range of representations of these things. We don't always have to hammer our readers over the head with the DRUGS ARE BAD message, or the SEX IS BAD message, or the ALCOHOL IS BAD message. We can sometimes, and in certain stories (and I think these stories are so valuable, and have a place, for sure. I write them, sometimes), but it doesn't pay for this to always be the case, because we just wind up with shelves full of didactic stories that are not true to life.

And we set off bullshit detectors.

And okay, since I'm making a habit of being more confessional on the blog lately, I'll admit the other reason I worry about didactic narratives: I don't know anything. I mean, that's not true. I know a lot of things about maths (okay, not really...) and literature and art and the way people talk to other people, and what all those facial expressions mean.

But I haven't figured out the world, and I don't think I ever will figure out the world -- not now, not when I'm a hundred. Oscar Wilde once said, "I am not young enough to know everything" and seriously, when I'm a hundred, I think I will be truly old enough to say that I know shit all.

I don't write from a place of moral absolutes. I don't write from a place of knowing and wisdom. I write from a place of uncertainty. I try to write as honestly as I can, and I avoid didactic narratives, because I have nothing to be didactic about. And I give my readers what I can. Instead of offering all the right answers, I offer, I hope, all the right questions.

And isn't that better? Even for those of us who do know things? Isn't it better to give our audience questions, and let them think on those questions, rather than to force the answers down their throats? To let them think on those questions, and reach their own conclusions, no matter how vastly different than ours they are?

So those are my thoughts on being didactic in YA. What do you guys think?

Coming Out of the Writer Closet...

2011-05-14T05:19:00.000-07:00

The blog's looking a little bit dusty, isn't it? It's been quite a while since I've posted. To be honest, I've been trying to think of something to talk about (other than my boring life) that I can actually be fairly artiulate about (there are plenty of things that I can be inarticulate about -- like that discussion post on cultural relativity as it relates to YA that I can never seem to write. One day).

But I was talking to a friend the other night, about being a writer, about *acknowledging* that you're a writer to the rest of the world, and how that can be --and has been, for me -- really difficult. A lot of the time I get tongue-tied of being a writer. I am scared-embarrassed-shy about writing, and I don't know why.

People will say, "What did you do this weekend?"

And instead of answering, "Worked madly on finishing revisions on my novel..." I'll look evasive and say, "Uhm. Worked, mostly."

I am nothing if not madly awkward.

This evasion goes beyond small talk with friendly acquaintances, though. I am, in fact, better at acknowledging that I'm a writer with strangers than I am with close friends (exception is if said friends are writers themselves). I want to be as honest as I can, here, so I'm going to say it even though perhaps it's weird: my parents, my family, most of my close friends, had no effing idea that I was a writer until I was halfway through writing my third novel.

At that point, I had to fess up to my parents because they were beginning to worry about the amount of time I spent on the computer, and the fact that I always looked a bit too anxious (I was querying. And I was getting R&Rs. Don't take this to mean that I didn't ask my parents whether I could query -- I just did it in a really hypothetical way. Like, "If, say, I were to one day write a book, did you know about literary agents..." to avoid admitting to the fact that, yes, I did actually sit down and write a novel).

It's been a relief, having the people in my inner circle realise that I'm a writer. Mostly because I've told someone who's told someone who's told someone who's told someone. There are still people who don't know, who I consider extremely close friends. And on the flip side, there are strangers who do know about this huge part of my identity. It's weird, it is, but...

I'm really just not sure why I act this way about my writing. Well, okay, that's not entirely true. I have some theories, but I don't like to think about them because my own stupidity upsets me a bit.

One is that I feel embarrassed about the process of creating something. That, hands down, is my favourite thing about being a writer -- that when you're done with a book, or even just a first draft, or a scene, you have created something where once there was nothing. It's also something that I find selfish (because making this story, shaping it, it's all about what *I* want to do) and magical/weird/incredibly-hard-to-understand.

I don't get it. I don't understand *why* I want to create things. And as a person who is deeply self-critical, always seeking out motivations, explanations for actions (God knows I have plenty of faults, and my behaviour is sometimes downright illogical, but for the most part I understand why I'm doing what I'm doing). And maybe, I'm a bit of a control freak. Maybe it scares me shitless that I will *never* totally understand myself (I know, deep down, that this is true. But it does scare me).

And. Maybe, covering up my writing, not publicly acknowledging that I *do* create things, allows me to conveniently forget that there's this part of me that I don't understand.

But it's more than that. This fear of coming out of the writer closet doesn't just stem from the weird things that I'm thinking in my head. It's also about how other people will react to me, and how that will change the way I write.

I have never wanted to be pegged as "that-writer-kid" by anyone, because I am so firmly against resisting stereotypes. It's why I never carried notebooks around with me at school, despite an intense urge to do so (and a love of moleskine notebooks. I use them all the time at home!). Why should I become the girl who was always scribbling away? But beyond that, why should I become the girl who was subject to people's scrutiny?

I feel like there are a lot of expectations, and pressures that come with admitting that you write novels. Especially when you're young (although maybe it's just as bad when you're older, and I just don't know...). I feel like people expect you to be smart, and well-read (I am to an extent. But I'm not as into 'classics' as people expect a writer to be). As if people expect you to be a genius at any kind of creative writing assignment for school (I'm not. Especially since school work is often assigned in the short story form. I can't write short stories to save my life, even though I love the form, love what other authors can do with it. Joyce Carol Oates is a freaking genius).

And I feel that there is a pressure to explain myself to people. That sometimes, they will gush madly and discuss being the next Rowling or Meyer with me (oh, people who don't understand publishing and think all authors are squillionaires, how I love you), but they'll also be giving me this weird look. This judgemental look that says, "But why?", that confirms all of my fears about the strange/magical/inexplicableness of the process of creation.

I don't know why. I hate being asked why, and it has happened again and again. Why do we eat? Why do we breathe? Why does he tapdance and why does she do ballet?

Lastly, people knowing that I write, it does change the way that I come to my blank piece of paper (or work document) at one o'clock in the morning, when I'm done with everything else. I don't want it to, but it does -- I know it does, because things about my process have changed a lot since the book deal, which was basically when people in my world started to really realise that I was a writer.

Look, this is an embarrassing thing to admit -- it's hard to admit weakness, sometimes -- but I'm sometimes insecure. Especially about writing (it's weird, because it's a constant in my life, one of the things that's most secure, and simultaneously one of the things that is riddled with so many doubts). And being out of the writer closet, it worsens that insecurity.

I start to worry about what the other people, the people who know I'm a writer and are so ready to be proud of me and my work, would think of what I'm writing. I start to over-analyse and overthink and over-everything.

But you know what? I'm glad. I'm glad that the book deal's forced me to be out in the open (at least more out in the open, than before). Because shit, I really needed to acknowledge to myself at least, that I was a *real* writer.

And because I'm going to have a book on the shelves one day, and people are going to know about it, and they are going to judge that book (I'm honestly fine with strangers judging my work. Not so much people who know me). And I'm going to just have to get used to that -- to going from creating something, which is this intensely private process for me, to sharing something, which is incredibly public.

And now that you've been subjected to that lengthy, personal reflection on my slightly odd reasons for not admitting to being a writer, some updates! (yeah, this is the section where I tell you about my boring life ;)).

1. I turned in my first round of revisions. YESSSSSS!
2. I continued working on my super-sekrit new WIP, which is going to remain super-sekrit for now.
3. I did an interview at Noveltee(n), which is a cool new blog, composed of teen authors.
4. I gave away a bunch of crits for Crits for Water, which is a fantastic cause, which you should check out. You should also check out Help Write Now, another fantastic cause.
5. My book is on goodreads (yes, I find this ridiculously exciting :)) goodreads. Add it if it sounds like your thing :)

And that's it from me! How have you guys been in my absence?

Crits for Water

2011-03-18T05:45:00.000-07:00

Clean water. It is a resource that many of us in developed countries take for granted. Clean water. It's a necessary part of our every day lives -- we drink it, use it to cook, use it for sanitation purposes.

But. Not everyone is so lucky. Worldwide, two in ten people do not have access to clean drinking water. .

20% of the world, guys.

And not having access to clean water? It's often a matter of life or death.

Over 5000 children die every day due to unclean water.

Guys. That is 5000 lives, young lives, lost every day.

The amazing Kat Brauer has launched a fundraiser in order to support the efforts of charity:water. What they do is build clean sources of water into communities that need that water.

What they do is bloody important.

So, go and check out the Crits for Water Fundraiser .

A lot of awesome authors and agents are donating critiques for the fundraiser. People like my fellow Let the Words Flow girls, Susan Dennard, Sarah J Maas and Kat Zhang. . And what about the agents? Joanna Volpe, Sara Kendall and Sara Megibow, to name just a few. And yeah, I'm donating something, too :)

What Kat needs, right now, is for people to spread the word about the Crits for Water Fundraiser. So go forth and blog it, tweet it, post it on facebook. Get the word out there.

This fundraiser is worthy of buzz, so buzz it!

What Makes for a Strong Heroine?

2011-03-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

One of the things I often see writers and readers say they want to see more of is strong female leads. Strong heroines. The kinds of characters who are going to influence the younger generation of young women in the right way.

And when I see these comments, I always wonder what IS a strong heroine, anyway? It's a tricky concept for me to wrap my mind around. Some people, as the awesome Savannah points out over at Let the Words Flow, believe that sass = strength (no. No, it does not).

Still more people confuse strength with kickassery. Usually, when strong female protagonists are discussed in YA, the first person mentioned is Katniss Everdeen. Now, I'm not saying that Katniss is not both strong and badass. Because she is. It's not like strength and kickassery are mutually exclusive concepts.

What I am saying is that maybe, we need to look beyond the obvious when it comes to finding strong heroines. Katniss is strong because she's the ultimate Survivor, yes, but strength manifests itself in such a variety of ways.

Strength doesn't always have to be badass. It can be quiet and subtle, but there nonetheless (I'm thinking a lot of Sarah Dessen's protags). Strength can be unshakeable but can exist in a way that is not entirely positive (E Lockhart's fantasticbrilliantamazing The Disreputable History of Frankie-Landau Banks) and strength can be tattoed all over a character with a tragic past, who is coming apart at the seams, just because they hold themselves together (hello, Courtney Summers. Your protags rock my world. Regina Afton and Parker Fadley and I'm sure Eddie Reeves once I manage to get my hands on a copy of Fall for Anything).

And then there are the fish out of water stories. The stories where it's Girl vs World (Tamora Pierce's novels, for instance. HELL YES, women can be knights. For a contemporary example, Saving Francesca by Melina Marchetta deals with girls in an all boys' school setting).

I could go on like this for a while, because there are A LOT of different types of strength. And yet, everywhere I turn I see this conflation between kickassery and strength.

I think this is dangerous, because I think it's going to lead us to create a kind of mould/model of what a strong girl should be. I worry Strong Heroine could become an archetypal character. That Strong Heroine could come to be a flat character, wielding a sword. A kind of Action Girl, who is not as well developed as a truly strong character should be, who has no substance (Katniss wasn't strong JUST because she survived the Arena a couple of times. Who was looking after Prim all that time? Who was supporting the household?).

The bottom line? We can't typify female strength, fit it into a tidy little box, define it as X or Y or Z, because it is so many different things. And while kickassery and strength do go hand in hand, there are many kinds of strengths beyond being a badass.

I think I win the award for using the word kickassery the most times in one post. Yes?

And while I have you guys here? You should totally go check out the new pages I've created at this blog. You'll probably laugh at how silly my Bio is :)

Mix and Match Couples

2011-02-15T04:52:00.000-08:00

Before I launch into this post properly, can I just tell you guys to take a moment to go and congratulate my good friend Cory Jackson? Cory is a fantastically talented YA author, who's just sold her debut IF I LIE to Simon Pulse! Yay, Cory!

This week, over at Let the Words Flow, we posted about our Literary Valentines. And it kind of got me thinking, what would happen if some of our favourite fictional couples didn't end up together, at all? What would happen if they wound up with someone from a different book, altogether?

The results could be...amusing.

Okay, so let's take, say Bella Swan out of the Edward+BellaForeverSquee! equation that fans of Twilight seem to have going on. Just for a second, I'll put her back, promise!

And let's pair Edward with... *drumroll* Katniss Everdeen.

I mean, can you imagine these two? I have a feeling that they'd wind up stalking each other (Katniss in a lethal "oh-this-is-my-prey-that-I-hunt" way, and Edward in pretty much the same manner. Except he's got himself fooled into thinking he's hunting down love). And two stalkers in one relationship just does not seem feasible.

Or. What about. Cracked Up to Be's Parker paired with Jane Austen's Mr. Darcy. I mean, he liked Lizzy for her impertinence and Parker is plenty 'impertinent'. It's obviously a match made in heaven ;) (I'm actually pretty sure she'd give him a heart attack after about two days' acquaintance. Yes, I did just use the word acquaintance).

Okay, and how weird would this be, Draco Malfoy with Blair Waldorf. I think this one actually works really nicely. They could bond over a common love of scheming (and I bet Blair could teach Draco a thing or two!).

What other strange literary combinations can you guys think of? Any other ridiculous mix and match couples?

Editorial Letter

2011-02-06T23:52:00.000-08:00

So, yeah, I've been away for ages. I was overseas, and then I came back, and I was really busy with my life, and I also kind of needed a break from blogging (and to an extent writing), because I had a feeling I was becoming this kind of whiny, insecure person that I don't want to be.

But I'm all good, now, so my break's over. I'm back, and I'm going to try and post interesting stuff here whenever I can.

My latest news is that I received my revisions from my editor. When I first read my revisions over, I was really too groggy and jet-lagged to process what the letter was saying. But I was fairly sure it was brilliant.

And when I read the letter the next morning, I realised that I was absolutely right in my jet-lagged state. It was brilliant. I could just see myself shifting things around, working to shape the plot into what I want it to be, picking up the pace and smoothing the flow.

I had this moment where I just went, "WOW. This is real, this is really happening," and I just kind of sat and processed it for a moment. It was kind of surreal, because I spent a month overseas straight after my book sold, so when I got back, even though I *knew* it had sold, the knowledge hadn't really sunk in yet.

It did, then, when I read that letter. And it's terrifying, because there's a lot of work to do and I'm afraid I'll screw up really badly (I think everyone feels like this at times, too. So it's probably best to just be honest about it).

But it's also really exciting, because I have this vision for my novel and I can see it getting there, now, becoming something better than what it was. I can see it bridging the gap between manuscript and novel, and having someone who is not a critique partner or beta reader actually read it.

Which is also really terrifying, to be honest. It's two parts terror, and three parts excitement.

So right now, I'm knee deep in revisions.

Also, I have a new WIP. It's about talking shoelaces, Pied Pipers, brothers who are boxers and wrestlers, and an ancient curse. Did I mention that there were talking shoelaces?

Yeah, I'm having fun ;)

What are you guys working on, at the moment?

Announcement!

2010-12-09T18:11:00.000-08:00

Many of you may have seen me excitedly tweet about this earlier today. Many of you may not have.

Anyway, this is the short version of my announcement: The book formerly known as The Gnome is Watching (it'll be retitled later down the line), is going to be published.

WAHOOOOOOOO!!!! *Happy dances* *More happy dances*...

Ahem. What? There can never be enough happy dancing.

The PM announcement isn't up yet, but here's some of what my super amazing incredible don't-really-have-enough-superlatives-for-her agent said about the deal on our agency website. My book is an...

untitled dark, edgy YA thriller about a girl named Ella, who is desperate to understand what could have driven her best friend Amy to jump off a roof to her death. Even worse, Ella can’t remember a thing about the time leading up to the event—and gradually she starts to suspect that those around her know more about that night than they are letting on. Was Amy’s death really a suicide? Or did something more sinister happen…something her best friends are desperate to keep her from ever finding out?

This is a fast-paced, edge-of-your-seat psychological mystery, and will keep you guessing right up until the end. North American rights were acquired by Marilyn Brigham at Marshall Cavendish, for a Fall 2012 release.

This news, has led to this girl, who is typing these words, being ridiculously happy-happy-happy. I'm so happy to be joining this amazing house, which publishes a bunch of super talented authors (they published the US version of Beatle Meets Destiny by Gabrielle Williams, which is one of my absolute favourite books of this year. I seriously recommend you check it out), and I'm so grateful to my lovely agent Ammi-Joan Paquette for making this happen.

Do you want the long version? If you don't, you can just click out here, but if you do, read on.

There were two things that led to this book being written. The first is a garden gnome that lives in my bedroom (it's actually a money box), but hey:

Look at him! Isn't he so shiny and wonderful??

Anyway, so at the same time as I had this garden gnome Nathan Bransford (yeah, you know, that really cool guy with the amazing blog? Him) was running this contest, to write a teen diary entry or letter. And I slapped something together and entered, because I thought the book that was a prize sounded cool.

I didn't win, if that's what you're thinking (my entry wasn't very good, to be honest). But the character I wrote that teen diary entry in the POV of? Would. Not. Leave. Me. Alone.

Her story started to come to me in bits and pieces, and when I was about to start writing it (abandoning the fantasy project I was 40k into), I remembered that I'd used the gnome in the piece I'd written for the contest. And I was like, "Okay, I'm going to use the gnome again."

And a story was born.

And then re-born several times in revision -- it'll probably get re-born a lot more in revision over the next year or so. I'm looking forward to that.

Anyway, that's how this started.

The middle of this story is really boring, but I wanted to share it with you anyway, because of this amazing post written by Natalie Whipple on the submission process, and how hard and heart-breaking it can be.

This is not the first book I worked with my superwoman agent on (That was THE COLORS OF SKY. I'm revising that first book at the moment and will hopefully send it back to my agent, soon. Seriously, I love that book to pieces and I'm hoping it will one day sell). This book did not sell overnight, or in three weeks, or even in two months. I'm saying this, because so many writers think their book is dead in the water after three weeks.

Publishing is slow, sometimes. It took me five months. I went on submission in July, and heard back with an offer on the 1st of December (yeahhhh, been keeping this under wraps for a while), which was probably actually the 3oth of November over in the US. But basically, five months were spent garnering rejection letters and then suddenly there was interest, and more interest, and more interest, and then there was an offer.

Again, sometimes things are slow.

The end of this story is better. The book sold. I happy danced and then got to share the news and celebrate with all of those amazing critique partners, and beta readers and just all-around awesome people who I had to thank. (Hi Amna! Hi choco! Hi Deb! Hi Jill! Hi Nomes! Hi everyone at Let the Words Flow and you know, there are a ton more people who should be here, but they know who they are). Plus, you know, Ammi-Joan Paquette, the agent for whom there can never be enough superlatives, for actually making this happen. No way would this ever have happened without her input and guidance and all-around brilliance.

Then I wrote this blog post and happy danced some more.

No, I did not just post that picture randomly. I posted it, because THAT is how delicious the world tastes to me today (oh, I am such a freaking cliche! But a happy cliche, so it's all good).

This year has been amazing for me. I finished high school, I did about five million cool things with my friends, and now this amazing wonderful news. Next week, I turn eighteen, and I'm determined to make next year even better. The world tastes awesome right now because of the potential.

P.S DID YOU KNOW I'M GOING TO BE A REAL AUTHOR WITH A BOOK AND EVERYTHING?! *runs around screaming and happy dancing*

Also, I'm a member of the Apocalypsies! (The group of 2012 debut authors) How COOL is the name??

The Wet Mop

2010-12-07T02:00:00.000-08:00

Now, character is one of those things that I have trouble with in my own writing. I tend to have a few strong characters, and then a bunch of characters who flop around on the page like dead fish. That is, until I raise a super-sharp chopping knife and look sternly at them (this is a really strange way to say, "Revise").

And I'm sure I'll revise my characters into popping and living more and more and more in the future, as my writing process changes and gets better. That's the beautiful thing about wanting to get better, and trying to get better -- eventually, you get better (at least this is my greatest hope. Please don't burst my bubble *bites nails anxiously).

I wanted to talk about character, I guess, because it's the thing that speaks to me most when I read. It's the reason I get hooked, and stay hooked (sometimes that's a super shiny voice, though). I'm not going to tell you how to write your characters -- frankly, I wouldn't know how. I can tell when it's wrong, and when it's not enough, when I'm critiquing, but I can't give you a framework to help you build a character. The only advice I can give in terms of that is: pay attention to details and highlight the interesting ones.

What I am going to talk about, in very general terms, is an abundance of characters in YA books who all fit 'types' (the details break the archetypes. Seriously. Use details), which are slowly becoming stereotypes due to overuse.

I'm only going to mention one, my least favourite overused type of character is...drumroll...
1. The 'Wet Mop'

One of my best friends calls a certain girl from a certain book with sparkles a 'wet mop'. I think it's a perfect description -- you guys all know the wet mop. The wet mop is the person who can never see a positive, who can never voice a strong opinion, who has incredibly strange self-esteem (low, despite external sources such as the Men Falling at Feet phenomenon telling them it should be sky high), and is basically as bland as bland can be.

Add some spice, will ya? I find this character ridiculously boring in general, although I admit that sometimes it does work in the narrative.

What is your least favourite type of character? Why don't you feel it's effective?

Note: Please don't trash books in the comments, it's not nice (you can criticise. Just don't descend into absolute shredding/author bashing).

My Life as of Now...

2010-12-02T23:10:00.000-08:00

So, I'm not on hiatus any more (although I will be again in two weeks), but I've been avoiding blogging because I simply don't have any ideas to blog about. If you guys could help me out by suggesting topics, that'd be awesome. But if you can't, then I think this space might transform into something a lot more personal than it's been heretofore (but the posts will still all reference writing, since that's such a huge part of my life).

There's a lot I've done in the time I've been away, blogosphere.

I've:

1. Graduated high school YAY YIPPEEE OMG OMG YES WOOHOO!!!!!

Here I have to say that there are a lot of things I'm going to miss about high school, despite being glad that it's over and done with. At the top of that list is probably the people. There are friends I've made over the past six years (no middle school in Australia, guys), that I'll definitely keep in touch with. But there are also friends I've made who aren't that close, but still awesome, and we'll probably drift.

It's sad, but true. And it's an ending, but it's also bittersweet because it's the start of something new.

2. I've worked on my revisions. Lots. In fact, I'm still working on my revisions and they butted NaNoWriMo out of the way completely. When I finish up my revisions, hopefully in the next few days, I'll blog and tell you about it. And probably happy dance.

3. I started a book blog. I thought that this space was becoming too cluttered with book reviews, and I wanted to keep it mostly focused on writing, so I moved all of that other stuff over to Musty Pages , which you can check out if you fancy it.

4. I went away with my friends for a week, which was really interesting. I've discovered that eight girls sharing a beach house means a bit of drama (not too much), and a lot of fun. I'm also ridiculously tanned and sunburnt -- I started peeling today, and I have a freaking FINGERPRINT tanline, which I need to get rid of.

That aside, going away was wonderful. The beaches were beautiful and it was an amazing de-stressification. There was no internet, wasn't even any phone reception, so it was like a detox from my technology fixation in a lot of ways, as well.

5. I wrote an article on Intertextuality for Let the Words Flow, which you can read if you fancy it.

That's about it -- this is my 'life' update. I'll be back to you guys with something more writerly soon, hopefully before I go away. Oh, that's right -- I should tell you why I'll most likely be going on hiatus again, soon: On my eighteenth birthday, December 16th, I'm going to get on a plane and head to Hong Kong, and then South Africa.

It's mostly just to visit family (in South Africa), but I'm hoping to go to the Disneyworld in Hong Kong and get some awesome shopping done, too.

Okay, I'm going to end this post on a question. How do you plot your novels? I've got a rewrite (which is pretty much like starting all over again, because the basic idea's gone, too. But I'm keeping some characters) that I want to plan a little before I dive in, and I'm not sure how to go about it.

Usually, I just scribble ideas down into moleskines, but I'm thinking that I might try a more organised approach for once and see how it works.

Interrupting my Hiatus to say...

2010-10-10T05:30:00.000-07:00

Okay, I just wanted to tell you all that my group blog LTWF are having an awesome-wonderful giveaway for our anniversary. We're giving away NINE parcels (one from each of our members) including a favourite book, a moleskin journal, and other goodies of our choosing. Plus, wonderful literary agency intern and freelance editor CA Marshall has donated 35 dollar gift certificates to go with each of our parcels.

So, check it out. . But more importantly check the blog itself out, because you know, it's awesome.

In other news, I am totally into pictures of fairy lights this week. The prettiness for your enjoyment (these pics are not mine, they're sourced from tumblr, if anyone knows the original sources let me know so I can give credit):

Teaser!

2010-10-05T05:38:00.000-07:00

This is a short teaser from THE COLORS OF SKY which I'm currently revising (again). It's also a quick post to say that I'll be taking a blogging hiatus here from now until the 2nd of November -- I have finals, revisions, and a family that like to talk to me occasionally. After that, though, I should be back to blogging in full swing :)

Anyway, tease:

*snip*

Thanks for all the comments, all.

Banned Books

2010-09-29T19:08:00.000-07:00

This week is banned books week! Ch-yeah, c'mon who doesn't love a good banned book?

In order to show my support in a somewhat ridiculous (and maybe somehwat inappropriate -- I'm pretty sure book banners would ban this post) way, I'm doing a spoof of Cansei de Sexy's brilliantly catchy song Music is My Hot Hot Sex...You may remember it from the iPod Touch ad.

This just about captures my love for banned books:

From all the drugs the ones I like more is banned books
From all the junks the one I need more is banned books
From all the boys the one I take home is banned books
From all the ladies the one I kiss is BANNED BOOKS(muah!)

Banned books are my boyfriend
Banned books are my girlfriend
Banned books are my dead end
Banned books are my imaginary friend
Banned books are my brother
Banned books are my great-grand-daughter
Banned books are my sister
Banned books are my favorite mistress

From all the shit the one I got to buy is banned books
From all the jobs the one I choose is banned books
From all the drinks, I get drunk off banned books
From all the bitches the one I want to be is banned books

Banned books my beach house
Banned books are my hometown
Banned books are my king-size bed
Banned books are where I make my friends
Banned books are my hot hot bath
Banned books are my hot hot sex
Banned books are my back rub
Banned books are where I'd like you to touch...

-music turns into some other crazy cool language I don't understand-

This week, my group blog -- yeah, I have one of them now, I forgot to tell you guys about it! -- Let the Words Flow, are having a banned books week. You should check it out. We're gathering photos of our awesome readers with their favourite banned books, so if you'd like you could send a photo along too :)

Spread the love for banned books, guys!

The Whole Boy Books Thing...

2010-09-28T05:19:00.001-07:00

So, boy books in YA.

So.

Apparently there are none.

Apparently the boys aren't reading.

I've been following this discussion on the internet with great interest, since YA author Hannah Moskowitz posted about it. I think she made some great points -- YA does provide a lot more content for girls than boys. Really, she's not lying about that.

But then Maureen Johnson is also not lying about the fact that GIRLS are expected to sit around reading about boring dudes all the time. So, why can't the boring dudes handle a bit of shopping on occasion?

Why is it that books written by women, automatically get treated as "lesser" than books by men? Why is it that boys won't read books written about girls, or even just written by women (c'mon, really, you think JK Rowling should have had to pretend to be a guy? I don't.)

The answer is simple, apparently, boys don't read about girls. Boys are above that kind of thing. I keep reading blog posts about how horrible romance is, how it shouldn't be the dominant theme in a book, how it's turning off male readers, and omg-YA-authors-stop-turning-the-children-into-zombie-bots-like-seriously.

And, so now I'm thinking: So fucking what.

You know what? I'm female, and I'm not a particularly big fan stories where romance is the dominant element either -- that DOES NOT MAKE ROMANCE BAD, or inherently less worthy than books that are all wit, or all humour, or all adventure, or all deep introspection (sorry, I've just been seeing the implication that romance writing is less than worthy for MONTHS and have been meaning to yell about this for a while. I think I tweet-yelled a few weeks ago). It just makes romance not my cup of tea, and that's okay for me and all those writers who want to write their romance-dominated stories.

Honestly, in my opinion, the problem isn't with the books in YA at the moment. It's with readers (and parents, and people who are recommending books to kids) that aren't inclined to go beyond bestseller shelves to find what THEY want to read (or what they think their boys will read). And you know, that's creating a vicious cycle. Because the people who WANT more boy books, about teens making mischief and possibly not falling in love, those people (it seems, from what I see) aren't buying the books written for them.

Which means those books won't sell, so less of those books get published etc etc.

So, this is me saying, BOYS THERE ARE YA BOOKS THAT CATER TO YOU. READ THEM, OKAY? OKAY?

/end-shouting.

I read a lot of "boy books". And I'm going to talk about them here. And I want people to add ones that they know about to the comments. I want this post to be a kind of list of books for everyone who is looking for YA from a male POV (because, like I said, there IS a problem in that it's elusive and not as well publicised).

My list of male-oriented YA, with mini-reviews:
-LOOKING FOR ALASKA, PAPER TOWNS, AN ABUNDANCE OF KATHERINES, by John Green -- I don't think these need a review.

-WILL GRAYSON, WILL GRAYSON by John Green and David Levithan (again, no review required).

- ARE WE THERE YET, by David Levithan -- awesome, third present POV. Brothers. (and I'm sure some of Levithan's other books, but this is the only one I've read *shamed face*)

-Cory Doctorow's stuff

-Nick Hornby's YA stuff

-Joe Dunthorne, SUBMARINE-- this one has the funniest, funniest voice.

-JUST IN CASE and WHAT I WAS by Meg Rosoff -- the fact that the author is female does not, in my opinion, negate the fact that these are books about boys. Rosoff's lovely style will be a plus for literary readers

-THE PIPER'S SON Melina Marchetta -- honest, beautiful portrayal of a twenties-something guy. Marchetta's Piper's Son is great for those clamouring for "New Adult" as well as boy books. It is mature, and beautiful.

-NO WORRIES, and CONFESSIONS OF A LIAR, THIEF AND FAILED SEX GOD by Bill Condon (also some other Bill Condon titles). Awesome books.

-LOST PROPERTY, by James Moloney -- made me cry without being melodramatic, and I don't cry easily.

- KING DORK by Frank Portman (really, does this need an introduction).

-THE PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER by Stephen Chbosky (again, no review needed).

-JARVIS 24 by David Metzenthen -- I haven't actually read this one, BUT I have heard so much awesome about it.

- KING OF WHATEVER, Kirsten Murphy -- one of my favourite male POV YA books. The main character is incredibly endearing.

- NOSTRADAMUS AND INSTANT NOODLES, by John Larkin -- this book is good enough that I read it like five years ago and still remember it in detail.

-BREAK and the upcoming INVINCIBLE SUMMER by Hannah Moskowitz. Break = Chuck Palahniuk for teens. Need I say more?

-RIGHT BEHIND YOU by Gail Giles -- really dark, really great for reluctant readers because of the simplicity of the prose, but also for sophisticated readers because of the nuances in the ideas presented.

-THE ABSOLUTELY TRUE DIARY OF A PART-TIME INDIAN by Sherman Alexie -- I think we all know how much I ADORE this book. Really, it's in my top ten YA books ever.

-THE OUTSIDERS, by S.E Hinton -- another classic

-THE ADVENTURES OF FANBOY AND GOTH GIRL -- loved it, fantastic voice.

-Scott Westerfeld's novels -- haven't read all of them, but what I have read has convinced me that they're awesome.

-THE CHOCOLATE WAR by Robert Cormier -- also classic.

-THE KNIFE OF NEVER LETTING GO and the others in this series by Patrick Ness -- some of the best dystopia I've read.

-KEROSENE by Chris Wooding -- real, honest, heartbreaking. God, this kid was burning things down left right and centre and I could still empathise with him. Fantastic. And THE HAUNTING OF ALAIZABEL CRAY by Chris Wooding, some of the best YA fantasy I've read, even though I don't like his adult stuff that much (Kerosene is contemporary, so some diversity there).

-M.T Anderson's novels.

-SWERVE and NUKKIN YA by Phillip Gwynne. SWERVE is one of my all-time favourite YA titles as well.

-CREATURE OF THE NIGHT by Kate Thompson. I bought this for my brother, so haven't read it yet (I will eventually, though -- I basically buy books for people in my family as an excuse to read 'em myself). And her THE NEW POLICEMAN, which I have read, and is excellent. Irish-based fantasy (Creature of the Night is gritty contemp, so there's some diversity there too), and a strong music thread.

-TWISTED by Laurie Halse Anderson -- great, great, great. Like all Laurie Halse Anderson's novels.

-SPUD by John van de Ruit -- haven't read this one, either. Bought it for a friend.

-Anthony Horowitz's novels

-GENIUS SQUAD series by Catherine Jinks -- nice YA/MG crossover in this one, imo. I'm not sure where it goes.

-HAMLET -- a novelistic reimagining by the amazing John Marsden. I haven't read this one, but based on what I've read of Marsden's stuff(everything else. A good fifteen books), it's bound to be bursting with compelling with characters, and strong writing.

-90 PACKETS OF INSTANT NOODLES by Deb Fitzpatrick -- quirky premise, altough I haven't read it yet. Crime elements.

-THE BYRON JOURNALS by Daniel Ducrou -- another I haven't read but am really looking forward to.

-ADIOS, NIRVANA by Conrad Wesselhoeft -- this one's not out yet, but I just finished reading an ARC courtesy of netgalley and it is AMAZING. Like, the male POV version of The Sky is Everywhere, but without the romance. So, so good (I should state that this book is repped by my agency, but I didn't actually know that when I read it. So.).

That's my list. One girl's reading. I am SURE that there are other great books out there geared towards boys and I definitely want to hear about them. But I also want boys to be open to reading "girl" books, because sometimes they're bloody fantastic too and you're just missing out.

Seriously, Guitar Highway Rose by Brigid Lowry. Oh my God, is magical but it's only half male POV, and Melina Marchetta's earlier novels are similarly awesome and have kickass female leads. What about Before I Fall, the Bermudez Triangle, Raw Blue and so many others? All awesome books. So yeah, I've kicked off a reading list of YA geared towards teen boys, but I do think it's pretty much just bad for the human race if one gender will only ever exclusively read about their own.

What are your recs? Keep adding to the list! :)

Review: The Piper's Son, by Melina Marchetta

2010-09-27T06:18:00.000-07:00

Melina Marchetta's brilliant, heart-wrenching new novel takes up the story of the group of friends from her best-selling, much-loved book Saving Francesca - only this time it's five years later and Thomas Mackee is the one who needs saving.

Thomas Mackee wants oblivion. Wants to forget parents who leave and friends he used to care about and a string of one-night stands, and favourite uncles being blown to smithereens on their way to work on the other side of the world.

But when his flatmates turn him out of the house, Tom moves in with his single, pregnant aunt, Georgie. And starts working at the Union pub with his former friends. And winds up living with his grieving father again. And remembers how he abandoned Tara Finke two years ago, after his uncle's death.

And in a year when everything's broken, Tom realises that his family and friends need him to help put the pieces back together as much as he needs them.

This book is kind of, slightly, just a tiny bit magical.

Marchetta's prose, as usual, is at times bewilderingly beautiful, profound, funny and real. Despite the book being in third person (and present tense, at that. Probably one of the smoothest executions of third present I've seen), the voice was so strong you could hear it. The author has an obvious talent for dialogue, and each of her characters were brought to life using dialogue.

Speaking of the characters. Well, the characters were kind of amazing. This book picked up where Saving Francesca left off with the story of Tom Mackee -- those of you who remember Francesca may already know some of the characters (Siobhan, Francesca, Tara, Tom, Will, Justine etc).

But you don't need to have read Saving Francesca to appreciate the characters in the Piper's Son. Marchetta has integrated flashbacks and anecdotes into her story so well that every character feels three dimensional. Every character will tug at your heart strings, even when they're acting like assholes. There is also extraordinary use of unique details which furthers characterisation in this book.

There's a lot of talk about plot, concept, basic ideas that underpin a story, in the blogosphere. I wouldn't say that, in this book, there is any one easily summarised plot. Like I said, it's a family saga. But it's also a book about friendship. I suppose the main conflict is located before the story begins in the death of the protagonist, Tom's, grandfather Joe in the London underground bombings. The story basically deals with the aftermath and is close third POV alternately following Georgie (Tom's aunt) and Tom.

Marchetta ignores traditional wisdom about 'dating' one's book by including strong contextual reference. The timeframe is reflective of the conflict's inextricability from the London bombings, and takes place in (I think) 2007 (judging by the Kevin 07 t-shirts). In this case, I felt that the strong sense of time added a lot to the atmosphere of the book -- the feeling of the time in Australia was one of change (political, social) and a bright look towards the future. Marchetta's references to the Australian election, Labor politics etc created a backdrop of change which perfectly reflected the character arcs.

Setting, outside of time, was also very well executed. Footy games, flats in Newtown and tiny homes in Stanmore in Sydney. I think these things felt richer to me than they will to those living in other parts of the world, but Marchetta's settings are definitely well described. Not only is the imagery strong, but the sense of Aussie culture imbued in the places -- like Newtown, Stanmore, is evident.

All in all, great book. Compelling (although not very high concept) narrative driven by incredible characters. The Piper's Son did not disappoint (and I had high expectations after Jellicoe Road). Strongly, strongly recommend it.

On the OWL scale, an O for outstanding.

They Only Ban the Good Books, the Important Books.

2010-09-24T05:41:00.000-07:00

I've noticed a trend when it comes to the banning of books. The voices, the authors, that people want to silence? They're the ones telling the important stories. The stories with those ever so important grains of truth inside of them. The stories that are going to mean something and change people and be, all around, amazing.

In other words? Banners only go for the really good books.

I mean, let's look at the books that were banned just recently.

In the now famous Wesley Scroggins debacle, YA novels by Sarah Ockler and Laurie Halse Anderson were targeted. Just a little while before that The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-time Indian by Sherman Alexie was banned.

SPEAK -- deals with rape.
TWENTY BOY SUMMER -- deals with grief.
ABSOLUTELY TRUE DIARY -- deals with race, class, disability.

The recent banning of SPEAK has been greeted with horror, because what the banner was trying to do was steal the voice of rape victims. And that is wrong, that is so, so wrong (to use the term "porn" in relation to rape is frankly disturbing, and to deny the merits of a book of the calibre of SPEAK, is frankly outrageous). And other people like Myra McEntire, CJ Redwine, Veronica Roth have already talked about that. And CJ's post will absolutely break your heart.

But thinking about the banning of books, I've come to the conclusion that what banners nearly ALWAYS want to do is take away ideas that will ease the path of so many teenagers, and people. On the extremely immature, insensitive grounds that they don't want their kids exposed to this type of content.

They don't want their kids exposed to this sort of content, this sort of content. In the case of SPEAK, what does that mean? Does it mean that these people are unwilling for their child to sit side by side with the sixteen, fifteen, fourteen and younger rape victims who are doubtless in every school, even though some of them may suffer in silence? Do people who say these things even realise the implications of what they're saying? They're saying that rape survivors are inappropriate, they are adding to the crushing sense of shame, they are trying to silence the stories of the thousands of girls who are just like Melinda.

That is so abhorrent and ignorant.

And I just want to shout, at these people who believe their children need to be wrapped in cotton candy, welcome to the real world, where shit happens. Yes, even to teenagers. In fact, especially to youth who are vulnerable.

And that's why I hate the banning of books, because these books are ALWAYS the important ones. I mean, just looking at the recent ones that were banned...

TRUE DIARY, god, I can imagine so many children from socio-economically disadvantaged backgrounds, children who have been disabled, children who have been big fish in small ponds, picking that book up and deriving a sense of hope from it.

TWENTY BOY SUMMER is so heartbreakingly real for a lot of teenagers who will lose a friend or loved one to an accident, suicide, or illness. So heartbreakingly real for anyone who's ever had to grieve, to anyone who's ever had to hug their grief close and be strong for others.

And SPEAK? SPEAK, I just know, is so important to the 1 in 6 (shocking, shocking statistic) women who will be victims of rape. To the significant proportion of those who will experience that before the age of eighteen. And this book, it's not only important to those who can directly relate to the situation -- I found the book important when I read it, because it made me think about others. It gave me a greater understanding of rape survivors.

Perhaps even more importantly, this book has the power to open the pathways of discussion with both boys and girls. So that we can address rape culture, so that we can ultimately (hopefully) defeat it.

And that's why I'm Speaking Loudly. I hope that you will join me.

Teaser Tuesday

2010-09-21T05:09:00.000-07:00

From BURNING HUNTER:

“I can’t believe she’s the arsonist, though.”

“I can. Josh Berker says she always looked like she wanted to masturbate with the Bunsen Burners in Bio.”

Josh Berker knows shit about me. Josh Berker is a jerk who picks his nose. I don’t think anyone’s ever listened to Josh Berker in his entire high school career, apart from that one time sophomore year when his nose bled. I noticed. I took him out of the classroom, when everyone turned away, down to the nurse’s room.

I told him that there was a world out there after high school when he cried that nobody, no one, nemo (because he took Latin) liked him.

And now here I am, crying in a fucking toilet cubicle, because of some stupid girls whom I don’t even know.

I feel so betrayed. By Josh, yes. But mostly by Leah, because it’s clear that she’s the one who’s telling people this shit.

“It’s so obvious that she did it, too. I mean, what a fucking retard. Burn down every post box on your street and not your own. That’s like getting a tat saying I did it.”

The door of the bathroom creaks open again.

I sink a little bit lower onto the toilet seat. Doubtless whoever’s showed up will want to:

1. Reapply lipstick
2. Reapply mascara
3. Reapply eye shadow
4. Bitch about Kenna Davidson who is supposedly an arsonist.

Except, then, this person says, “You’re such fucking idiots.”

Heidi.

God, I haven’t even thought about her since last night when she disappeared.

Silence. I can practically hear it gushing out of the running tap along with the water, splashing over the girls, binding their throats.

Eventually, one of them says, “Uh, why?”

And I look down at the brown tiles and hope to god that I’m not reading this situation wrong. That she’s defending me.

“Because Kenna was with me all of last night. At a party. She didn’t do it.”

One of the girls begins, “Really --?”

But the other cuts her off with, “Yeah, whatever, Heidi.”

Fuck. I should have realised that Heidi’s word wouldn’t mean much, because she’s so detached from high school life. No one here really knows her. She might hold weight with the seniors, but these girls are sophomores. Heidi Brewer is probably just some crazy girl who likes the crazy boys. In other words: unimportant.

I hear some scuffling and moving and ouches. Then Heidi’s voice. Sickly sweet, maple syrup over pancakes: “Sorry, I just need some space so I can do my make up.”

There are footsteps and then the door swings open and closed again. The sophomores have gone.

I know, because I can hear Heidi collapsing against the sink. Can hear her crying.

And it feels wrong, like I’m intruding on something intensely private. “Asher,” she whispers, and I can hear because her words are bouncing off the tiles in this room. Her words are echoing around this room. Asher, Asher, Asher. “Why?” Why, why, why.

Because I don’t want her to cry in earnest, I call, “Heidi?” I make sure to say her name casually. Like it’s a question. Like I haven’t been sitting in this toilet cubicle crying my eyes out.

“Kenna!”

She doesn’t make my name a question. She makes it an exclamation. A surprisingly enthusiastic one considering I’ve just heard her sobbing.

I open the door of the cubicle slowly. Inch by inch, Heidi comes into view. She’s leaning against the counter space between the bathroom sinks. Leaning so hard that she looks like she’d fall if they weren’t there. Her eyes are as red as the lipstick she’s holding.

She gives me a weak smile.

I give her a weak smile.

Is The Author Really Dead? The Way We Review Books

2010-09-18T22:14:00.000-07:00

So, after I wrote my Mockingjay discussion post, a lot of really interesting stuff came up in the comments.

Choco said:

I don't think a book is good if it fails to evoke emotional response from a reader when death occurs. So what if Katniss can't pause to think about it/ feel emotional about it?

Shayda said:

What I saw, instead, was a very accurate portrayal of someone severely damaged just trying to maintain herself.

She also said,

it was some seriously masterful writing, and an amazing character study and portrayal.

And Nomes said,

the thing is - i agree it is an important and powerful and mind blowing book. but i dont know how much of a favourite it will be or how many times i will feel compelled to re-read it.

i think obviously she had things to show (re war, etc) and it was done really well. however, im not sure it made for a particularly entertaining or even always compelling book?

Reading that last comment from Nomes I just totally spluttered and went "YES. That was *exactly* how I felt about MOCKINGJAY." And then I thought, well, hey, am I supposed to look at books like that? Should I really deem a book successful because the author set out to achieve what they wanted to achieve? Or should I review a book based upon it's merits, and the response it generates from me?

I think Choco/In which a girl made a really, really astute comment when she talked about the lack of emotional response. Good fiction, in my opinion, has two crucial elements: Secrets, and Emotion (I might do a post on this later, because I think it's a really useful thing to keep in mind as a writer). And MOCKINGJAY was missing some of that crucial emotion.

And the problem is, what Shayda said is also absolutely true -- because it is a great, great character study. But does all of that intent on Collins' part (which we've basically just assumed, in any case) MATTER, given the accuracy of Choco's comments?

As a reviewer, I didn't rip MOCKINGJAY to shreds for failing to evoke emotion in the reader. Instead, I assumed that Collins was actually striving for that effect, so it was a good thing. Now, I'm pretty sure that my reading texts like that would have one Roland Barthes turning over in his grave.

Basically, Barthes argued that READERS are the ones who create meaning in texts. Authors? We don't really know what they intended, and we need to stop reading texts with their intention in mind. We need to stop giving them so much authority.

And I do agree with Barthes, mostly.

(Also, that is a really bad summary of Barthes' The Death of the Author essay. You should probably read it yourself instead of listening to me).

So I wonder whether my review of MOCKINGJAY is fair. I wonder whether it will help inform readers about the book. Is it useful for me to review fiction like that, with the authors aims in mind?

I really don't know. At the moment, I'm leaning towards "No" and in future reviews, I'm going to put less emphasis on that aspect of things.

But I wanted to throw it out to you guys. Is the author really "Dead"? Do we readers truly have the right to assume all power?

And, most importantly, is reviewing in terms of what you feel the author set out to achieve, at all useful?

Some Thoughts on Mockingjay SPOILERS

2010-09-08T04:56:00.000-07:00

It's taken me a while to read Mockingjay. I've been busy, and besides, I wanted to put it off because I kept hearing that it wasn't-all-that-good everywhere. Now that I've finally read it? I think Mockingjay is the most powerful book in Collins' Hunger Games trilogy.

Really, really, really I do (although perhaps not the most *enjoyable*. This book devastated me. I needed recovery time.

Some people have said that Mockingjay didn't feel like YA -- normally I'd be like "HELLZ NAH YOU CAN PUT ANYTHING IN YA!" because you really can put anything in YA. Collins' book didn't go over the top, it didn't feel gratuitous to me. But. I can understand where the not-YA comments are coming from with Mockingjay. A while ago, I was discussing the "glossy" feel that the majority of YA books have with a friend -- that is, while they do deal with really harsh topics there's usually something seductive in the prose, something glossy that prevents everything from hitting home. A healthy dose as hope that works as a kind of morphine, blocking out some of the pain inherent in the issues.

Not so with Mockingjay. Mockingjay was BRUTAL. And therein lies it's power and strength. Mockingjay hits goddamn close to home (because I hear on the news about child soldiers, I read their survival stories, I read in the newspaper about these terrifying situations where twelve-year-olds, ten-year-olds are given guns and told to shoot their families -- that is far, far worse than anything in this book) and that, too adds to its power.

I have read a couple times, that one of the flaws of Collins' trilogy is that she makes the people of the Capitol seem too obviously evil. Things are too clear cut, there is The Enemy and The Rebels (who are obviously good). I never agreed with that. In fact, the materialism of the Capitol, the way they were so blind to the problems of others, their selfishness, struck a deep chord with me. Because I live in a developed nation, and the books forced me to think "What, exactly, are we doing to developing nations?". We are selfish and unwittingly cruel a lot of the time -- the people of the Capitol, while they reflected our baser nature, weren't evil to me in The Hunger Games, or Catching Fire.

To me, the books were always complex on the whole good vs. evil issue. But. If there was any doubt for readers (and I know there has been some) as to the complexity of this issue? Mockingjay will blow that doubt far, far away. The rebels are not clearly good. Katniss is not clearly good. Gale is far from clearly good. EVEN PEETA IS NOT CLEARLY GOOD (I know, Peeta? Not perfect. WHAT?).

A lot of the criticisim I've read of Mockingjay focuses on the fact that it's too depressing. It is depressing. Not denying that. But this is war we're talking about here, full-fledged war. Not the Hunger Games (which were horrible, too, but not to the same extent). In that context? I LIKED that it was too depressing, not romanticised as some kind of adventure, because war is not an adventure. I liked that I didn't get time to mourn as all these things kept happening, whirling by (depressing-events-on-speed was kind of Katniss' life) because that's how war is.

Scenes that did this really well that I loved:
- The scene where the Capitol bombs a hospital.
- Gale's pragmatism in deciding to bring down the Nut
- The scene where ambiguity begins to emerge as to who sent down the exploding aid packages.

Now, about Katniss. Katniss Everdeen, in the first two books of The Hunger Games trilogy, was the consummate Action Girl. She was tough, feisty, impulsive and quick-thinking and broke all the rules. Cool. Katniss was very, very cool. In this book, Katniss is not quite the same person as in the other two.

A lot of readers have mourned the loss of that Katniss, and I have, too. But. I thought that the new Katniss jived better in THIS book. There have been accusations of passivity, and yes, Katniss maybe could have been more active -- but that may have defeated what I felt the book was trying to demonstrate: that in war, we lose some of our individuality and become pawns in a game. Throughout much of the book, Katniss is experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder, and that really evident. She was a mess, an irredeemable and to me, it WORKED. Partly because I'd seen old-Katniss and New Katniss was that much more heartbreaking as a result. Partly because I didn't feel that anyone could *ever* fully come back from the events of The Hunger Games, and the war.

On the Love Triangle. For me, Catching Fire was made weak by the love triangle. I didn't like it, I wanted it to go, it didn't seem to have any purpose. In this book? The love triangle was like. I don't know -- a whole lot better (although still not perfectly pulled off. I have some beef with it, which I'll set out here). I felt that because Katniss was FINALLY FOR GOD'S SAKE actually spending decent amounts of time with Gale, this book was more balanced than HG and CF. Also because Peeta kinda hated Katniss. But, but, but, I wasn't quite in love with the way Collins portrayed Gale. Gale and Katniss became far, far too different to be together and that was okay. But Gale was portrayed as the 'bad guy' in a lot of situations -- and I don't think he *was* the bad guy, just unswervingly practical.

So that was my beef with the love triangle: More balanced than in the last two books, still not balanced enough.

People have also been discussing the deaths, the way the deaths were handled, and whether some of them needed more resonance. I thought they did, to be honest. I'm kind of debating whether my opinion is right here, because I can see that in a war situation your comrades are going to fall while fighting, and you're going to have to just keep on going. And I can also see that Katniss was so internally messed up that it got to the point where she was numb -- she wasn't going to narrate moments poignantly. She was going to narrate them with a hard, blunt edge that took away the YA "gloss" I mentioned earlier.

But. I actually found the scene where Prim dies really confusing. Like, at first I wasn't aware of what was going on -- I'm still not sure what was up with all the "fire-mutt" stuff. Like, Katniss didn't really become a muttation so that didn't make complete sense to me. Anyway, so, I thought Prim's death needed more in-the-moment emotion because Katniss was fully there in that moment, and not running away from anything. She was burning herself, yes, but I needed more of an emotional context to actually make sense of this death.

And Finnick. Finnick's death could have used a bit more emotion, too. Throughout the book you see Katniss and Finnick as being friends, both drawn together becuase their loved ones (Peeta and Annie) have been captured by the Capitol and are being tortured. As I said, I get that in the moment that Finnick dies Katniss has to keep moving. Later, however, when they're in Tigris' basement, there's this moment where Katniss remembers those who have died. And Finnick? Gets one sentence like all the other dudes on the crew, and this really didn't seem to fit with the friendship they'd built up.

So, I have a lot more thoughts on this book, but I don't want to overwhelm everyone. I'll just say one more thing, before I stop: I really didn't like the epilogue -- it didn't seem to add anything to the book.

What were your thoughts on Mockingjay?

Five iron-clad rules about writing for teenagers

2010-09-03T05:46:00.000-07:00

1. Teenagers are dumb (have you seen that section of the Simpsons where Ralph is all "Me fail English, that's unpossible!"? Yeah. Teenagers are like that) So you must write dumbly so that they understand it. This is, like, totally du-uh.

2. DON'T SWEAR EVER. Everyone will ban your book, so dear God, whatever you do, please do not fucking swear. Or blaspheme. Shit, this paragraph is an abomination. This right here is what you don't do people.

3. Your protagonist? Yeah, she (has to be a she) has to have about as much personality as a tea-bag (well, depending on the tea. I mean, chai tea? Wayyyy too much personality there). This is because teenagers will insert-themselves-into-teen-girl's-shoes. So then THEY can be the main character.

4. ALWAYS PREACH. I mean, seriously, YA should be more preachy than church. You've got to teach them to be Morally Upright Citizens, right? If we don't hammer them over the head with the don't-be-an-asshole message, then they're bound to turn out like asssholes.

5. ALWAYS use chatspeak. Because seriously? No one's going to relate to your characters otherwise. And make sure you're up to speed -- "Lol" is so dark ages. "Roflmao roflcopter roflacious" is all the rage right now.

So, what are you waiting for, you're now all set to write yourself some YA!

P.S IN CASE ANYONE DIDN'T GET IT (likely, given the smirk my Dad gave me when I said "So, how do you reckon a career in stand-up comedy would go for me?" ;)), THIS IS AN ATTEMPT AT HUMOUR.

Teaser!

2010-09-01T02:12:00.000-07:00

I'm kinda late, but I figured I'd play anyway. Hope you enjoy!

--

Out in the car park, Heidi kicks a trashcan. “I’ll get her back for it,” she tells me.

There’s something hollow in my laugh. Too much air, not enough sound. I smile up at Heidi. “Thanks.”

But really, what can she do? She can slash Leah’s bedroom to pieces and it wouldn’t make up for this. This is betrayal.

A knife twists in your stomach.

A knife twists in your back.

A knife twists up under your ribs.

A knife twists through each finger, through each toe.

It kinda hurts.

So I decide to do the only thing I can think of. The thing that they do in all the books and movies and even the fucking comics. “Where’s her car?”

Heidi’s face lights up. She smiles the smile that splits her face in two, that destroys her good looks and replaces them with good humour. “Oooh,” she says. “Let me help you. After all, this is my fault. If I’d been smarter we could have found Asher by now.”

I don’t say anything, just nod, remembering where Leah parked this morning when she dropped me off. “Car’s that way.”

We tramp over the gravel in the car park. The school buildings are pretty far from here, at least fifty metres, and we’re sort of lost in between all the cars. No one’s out here, because lunch is well and truly over. They’re all inside at their lessons, or outside somewhere far from the car park, doing something they most definitely shouldn’t be.

So I’m not too worried that anyone’s going to see us key the car. I mean, they might see two people keying a car. But they’re not going to see us. See Heidi’s freckles, or my lank-frizzy brown hair.

Leah’s car is parked in between a minivan and a beat up Toyota that kind of resembles mine. She’s a Subaru driver. Not quite up there with the guys who drive the BMWs, but definitely better than me. Definitely better than Heidi.

“God,” Heidi says, “what a bitch.”

“She always parks between crappy cars so hers looks better.”

I know this, because she told me.

Sometimes I wonder whether maybe Leah was only friends with me because she wanted to look better by comparison.

“Got a key?” Heidi says. “I’ve got my house keys.”

“Me too.”

We both fumble through our pockets and pull out our keys. The metal glints in the sun. I nearly snort, because this is nothing. These keys are nothing compared to the knives of betrayal.

Then Heidi says, “Ready. Set. Go.”

And go we do.

We drag the keys all over the car. Front and back. Bonnet and hood. Side, side, side. Heidi is scrawling a map to Asher all through the red paint, chipping it. I am slicing through the top layers of the paint, slicing away and thinking that it doesn’t matter one bit.

Eventually, I collapse onto the ground. Heidi walks round the car, back to the front where I’m sitting. “That felt good.” She’s actually sweaty. Chunks of blonde hair plaster themselves across her forehead, but her wheezing breaths soon knock them off again. She bends down over the bonnet, “X.O.X.O.”

She sticks her house key back in her pocket. “There, done.”

And she sits down next to me.

The silence of the world threatens to swallow us up, but before it can, I run my key along the gravel of the car park. We both crack up.

When we’re done, Heidi places an arm around me and says, “You’re so much cooler than you think.”

“And you actually say crap like that, which makes you fantastic.”

Winners and Query Stories (funny, not angsty, I swear)

2010-08-26T21:36:00.001-07:00

Okay, so I finally figured out how to use random.org (I know, it's not that hard. I'm just going to plead stupidity, haha). SO. The winners are *drumroll*

First prize: Meg

Second prize: Karen Yuan.

CONGRATS! :D

Email me at vees(underscore)vendetta(at)yahoo(dot)com

Normally, I just type my email address up properly. BUT THE BANK OF AFRICA KEEPS CONTACTING ME TO TELL ME THAT I'VE INHERITED SQUILLIONS FROM SOME DUDE. Ahem. So now, in order to avoid scammers, the email does not get typed up in an easily copy-pastable manner, haha.

Speaking of the Bank of Africa. They always address me either "Dear sir" or "Dear friend". Now, I am neither their friend, nor a Sir. So, you know, that's pretty ineffective. But it got me thinking about querying, and how we're all trying to figure out how to do it properly.

This may seem really stupid, but when I was fifteen-and-a-half I didn't have a clue how to address a query. I mean "Dear Mr." or "Dear Agent," -- it's even worse when you're addressing a woman as most people in the kidlit world are "Dear Ms" "Dear Miss" "Dear Mrs". Decisions, decisions, and so many choices!

So, obviously, back when I was fifteen I'd have aneurysms about getting everyone's gender and name perfectly right. I'd spend hours researching, and researching, and researching to make sure that I had it correct (and I still didn't always. There are a good few female agents I accidentally addressed as "Mr" and there are probably some male agents I addressed as "Ms", too *shamed face*).

Anyway, the point of this is, that after all that obsessing I finally got my first partial request. And guess what they called me in the email? "Dear Mr...". I'm pretty sure I mentioned that I was a teenage girl in the query, so it was pretty hilarious.

For the record, I seriously don't recommend you mention your age in your queries if you're a teenager. I stopped after around three weeks of querying, because I realised I was being stupid.

Also, for the record, "Dear Ms. Agent-name" and "Dear Mr. Agent-name" is probably the best way to go. Scrap probably, definitely.

And that's my funny query story of the day.

Anyone else fancy sharing some hilarious, light-hearted moments from a process that is generally considered very gloomy-and-doomy?

More Teasing

2010-08-24T02:38:00.000-07:00

I promise to do a real post soon announcing contest winners! Anyway, this is from my new WIP which has a name now. It's called BURNING HUNTER -- I was aiming to get the first draft done by today, but I failed kind of miserably and am only halfway through. We'll see by next week, though :).

Tease:

There’s another trolley coming down the hill. Heidi. She’s alone and she’s shouting to us and the moon and the ghostly pine needles dripping down from the trees. “I’m a shooting star. Make a wish, make a wish!”

The trolley blurs on by, wheels snapping little twigs. Grey and undefined and bright because Heidi’s shining inside the cart. I guess it is kind of like a shooting star.
So I make a wish. Well, I make three wishes, not because I’m greedy, but because I can’t decide between the three of them.

My wishes:
1. That I become someone
2. That Leah forgives me
3. That the arsonist stops making the town smell like toast, because it’s really ruining toast for me.

And later that night, when I'm at home I snuggle up under my covers. I’ve got my window open, and the thickness of the night washes in, bathing my room in silence. Everything smells like toast, still. Actually, not like toast. Everything just smells burned, defaced. Horrible.

Everything smells worse than finger nails down a blackboard.

And yes, my senses are getting mixed up because it’s that bad.

And I’m crying, because even though wishes one and two could still come true, wish three most definitely hasn’t.

Because as I walked home this evening with Mikhail and Heidi, the post boxes on my street were burning. All of them. Every single one of the post boxes was burning.

Except mine.

I have no idea what it means.

Tease!

2010-08-16T21:02:00.001-07:00

I haven't done one of these in a while and I've missed it, so I'm posting one again! Remember to enter my Hundred Followers Contest which closes on the 20th.

Now for the tease! :D

--

Someone burned down the scouts’ clubhouse last night and now the entire town smells like toast.

I walk down the sidewalk, breathing in the charred air on my way to school. It’s only seven o’clock, but this is Hunter – everyone here wakes up ridiculously early, must be something in the water – so people potter around watering their already blooming gardens, early morning dew drizzling their shoulders.

Sleep rests in the corners of their bleary eyes, and Monday mornings are like that, I guess. But Mrs. Summerfelt’s laugh lines aren’t etched into their usual position, and Mr. Crayburn isn’t wearing his red hunting hat.

The scouts’ hall burning down in and of itself wouldn’t be that scary, but it wasn’t the first building to go.

I pick up a stick and trail the deadened wood over the pavement. It clacks into the gaps and crevices where I refuse to let my red converse sneakers fall. Dirt trails over the pavement behind me in a straight line. Dark. Almost the same colour as the smoke that’s come from the buildings.

The first building to go was the tennis court clubhouse.

Then there was the ladies’ bathrooms by the field next to the local pool.

A couple nights ago I met up with my best friend Leah to get ice cream. As I walked home, the post boxes were orange, flared torches in the dark.

The entire town of Hunter’s been smelling like toast for a while now.

Leah's waiting for me at the top of my street, so we can walk together as always. Her nose is wrinkled and instead of saying good morning like a sane person, she says, “Club house burns down and my parents automatically think that the arsonist’s targeting the children. God. How come no one said they were targeting the letters when they got the post boxes?”

Seven o’clock is way too early for eye rolling, so I answer as sincerely as possible. “Post boxes are expendable, children are not.”

100 Followers Contest

2010-07-23T07:06:00.000-07:00

So this blog hit 100 followers yesterday. And in honour of that, I'm going to have a CONTEST. Are you excited? (Chorus: HELL YEAH, Vee!).

So what have I decided to give away to you wonderful, book reader-ly people?

Prize # 1:

A SIGNED COPY of Are We There Yet? by David Levithan, as pictured above. You may also get to see random pieces of my messy-messy just-past-midnight hair sticking out from beyond the cover. Ignore that. You're not winning my hair.

Also included in Prize # 1: A fifty page critique by yours truly.

Prize # 2: Another fifty page critique.

Consolation Prizes: I'm still willing to look at queries from all and sundry. I know, I know, this isn't really a prize because this has always been the system. But still.

Contest deets are as follows:

1. Comment below to enter.

2. Being a follower of this blog is the only MUST. But there is one of those +1 +2 thingummies that I'll get to in a minute.

3. This contest is semi-international. That means you can enter if you live in the UK, the US or Australia. (Unfortunately, I don't know how to mail stuff elsewhere, and I'm not learning because school's already forcing me to master Calculus this year so the international postage system's gonna have to wait till next), where the vast, vast majority of you readers live anyway.

Of course, if you live elsewhere you can just mention that in your comment and I'll still enter you for the critiques. Cause they're done via email, you know.

Okay, point system:
+2 old followers
+1 new followers
+1 twitter followers
+1 tweeting about this contest
+2 adding me to your blogroll
+3 doing an actual blogpost about this.

This contest is open until after my exams finish. So, August 20th. Results will be released shortly thereafter (I don't promise anything, because I WILL have to master the ability to use random generators to make sure everything's fair. Also get caught up in the hype that will be the Australian election on the 21st.).

Okay. Go go go! Enter.

<3

ETA: CLOSED. Results will be up soon-ish

Short Teaser

2010-07-20T01:08:00.000-07:00

From a mildly strange dystopian:

You frown. You bite your lip. You run your tongue over your teeth.

I’ve seen you do this twice before, and this, this is where everything always falls apart.

I close my eyes.

“My name is...”

You stare off at the wall, and I can see you fighting to remember. Any second now, you’re going to dredge it up and the doctor and I will have to leave and let the green gas slide up out of the floor, knock you out. Any second now, you’re going to say, like you have said every time, “Claire.”

But you just stare at the wall until the Doctor says,“It’s okay if you don’t remember.”

And you say, “I don’t.”

Your voice is flatter than I’ve ever heard it before in response to this question. There is none of the warmth, the smile, the life of when you say Claire.

Finally. You’re ready.

Review: The Secret Life of Maeve Lee Kwong by Kirsty Murray

2010-07-17T04:03:00.000-07:00

Maeve's safe world is torn apart when her mother dies in a car crash. Sent to live with her strict Chinese grandparents, she fights to hold onto the things she loves most -- her two best friends, her dancing, her baby brother Ned. Secretly she pins her hopes on her Irish father, who doesn't even know she exists. From Sydney to Surfers, from Hong Kong to Ireland, Maeve searches for a path to follow, a place to belong.

The Secret Life of Maeve-Lee Kwong is a book that combines some of my favourite things: growing up, finding a sense of belonging, and sweet, first loves ( all of which are tainted, however, by the mournful note that flows throughout the book because of the death of Maeve's mother).

This is a wonderful book that, essentially, is about the importance of identity in contributing to our sense of belonging.

Murray's prose is smooth and flawless throughout -- I felt as if Maeve was speaking to me and she sounded like a typical Australian teenager. Everything was executed brilliantly, the characterisation was simply wonderful -- Maeve's two best friends felt like my own by the end of the book, and the love interest was not completely, totally out-of-this-world unreal.

Murray handles the culture clash which occurs between Maeve and her traditional Chinese grandparents who have very different values to her, with delicacy, showcasing the common humanity we all have. This is followed up by Maeve's exploration of Ireland, and connecting back to her Irish routes via her father.

I think, perhaps, this was one section of the book that felt a little bit under to me because everything seems to come to Maeve too easily. Previously insurmountable challenges are resolved with solutions that border on deux ex machina. The themes which flow throughout the book, while well defined and explored can also feel a little heavy handed at times, a little too obvious to older reader such as myself.

In all, however, this is a lovely YA novel with a younger protagonist -- those seem to be becoming rare these days. The influence of culture, and how it links to identity, is well explored and the various interesting locations are each given their own flavour -- Sydney, Hong Kong, Ireland. (For me, it was nice to read a book set in Sydney where I could connect to the places in the book and say "Hey, I go there every day!").

On the OWL scale this book is an E for Exceeds Expectations. I really enjoyed it, despite some initial misgivings about whether or not it would be my thing.

Teaser...

2010-07-13T21:35:00.000-07:00

I'm hoping it's still Tuesday somewhere in the world :)

-

Shit. I always forget about presents.

“Sammy doesn’t like Britney Spears.”

He stares at me like I’m stupid, and in comparison to his 4.20 GPA and Yale-bound-ness I probably am.

“I know.” Slow voice, like that will make it all sink in. “It’s a joke. I got her a card saying happy eightieth birthday.”

“Okay,” I say. And now he has a better sense of humour than me, too.

He opens his mouth to speak, and he looks so freaking apologetic. Probably because he can tell I’m pissed.

I cut him off before he can begin, “It’s okay, Adam. Just drive.”

He sighs. Hits the accelerator.

We don't talk on the way home. At the first set of traffic lights there’s just silence and blaring music from other people’s cars.

This doesn’t bother Adam. He’s got this lazy, contented smile sprawled across his face and his posture is like a drawl. In comparison, I’m edgy. I’m nervous.

My fingers keep spinning in and out of each other. And when they’re not, they’re in my hair or unwinding the window.

The light goes green, and then we’re speeding along again.

I keep thinking about when we were kids, and our parents would take us on road trips. Adam would sit in the backseat next to me, head against the window coloring something in or playing on his gameboy or whatever. Even then, totally calm. Totally zen.

And I was the annoying kid constantly bugging her parents: “Are we there yet?” “Are we there yet?” “Are we there yet?”

Even when it was obvious that we weren’t “there yet” because we were parked off in front of a sycamore tree and Mom had the map out and was cursing like a sailor while trying to find the highway. A highway. Any highway.

And I’m thinking this, my cheek pressed against the cold glass of the window. The sky shooting by, the clouds rolling above. The road stretching out forever in front of us, ending only when it collides with the horizon.

Sometimes, I think Adam’s like a house and I’m like the road. I'll roll out forever and ever and ever until I crash. I'll never be 'there yet'. He’s there. He’s always been there.

Sometimes, it seems like everyone else in the fucking world is there.

And me?

Not yet.

Me?

Maybe never.

Teaser

2010-07-06T07:38:00.000-07:00

From another one of the flirtatious WIPS :)

--

Sammy gets up and I watch her disappear to the right of the counter, down a small corridor, to the bathroom.

Guess there’s nothing to do now, but twiddle my thumbs.

I do for a second. And I whistle, too.

Just cause that’s always what people do in the books.

There’s a guy in the corner who’s kind of staring at me, though, so I drop the twiddling and the whistling. How come they never mention that in the books? That people will look at you like you’re a goddamn freak if you whistle-twiddle?

Without the whistling, there’s only the whir of coffee machines and the dull edge of conversation to fill the space in my mind meant for thought. The brownie sits across from me on the table. Half-eaten.

I can still see Sammy’s teeth marks in the dense, brown-black sticky mass of cake.

Need.

It may contain traces of nuts, but who the fuck cares?

I reach out, grab the brownie and bite into it. Fuck, this is bliss. How can my mother have kept brownies from me all these years?

I take another bite of brownie. Chocolate and rebellion, taste them, let them dissolve on my tongue. Damn, I’m not going to live another second of my life bubble wrapped, and god, my thoughts are so fucking typical that for a second I hate myself.

Live life on the edge kids! Eat a brownie. It could be a slogan in a Teen Queen magazine if you replaced “Eat a brownie” with “Date a vampire”.

But it’s hard to hate yourself when you’re eating the best. Brownie. Ever.

I’m about to take the last bite when my breathing hitches.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Sammy’s back. She walks around the table and grins. “Brownie stealer.”

My hitched breath isn’t unhitching. I gasp.

Review: Solace of the Road by Siobhan Dowd

2010-06-26T23:11:00.000-07:00

Holly Hogan is done with social workers and key workers and secure units, she's done with reviews and rules and reports and she's done with foster parents. She's ditching her old life as Holly Hogan and she's heading off. She puts on her blonde wig, blows herself a kiss and flutters her eyelashes. And now she's ready. She's Solace, Solace of the road, and she's going to find her mam.

I've heard a lot about how good Siobhan Dowd's writing is, but I hadn't read any of it before I read Solace of the Road. Now that I have, I can join the adoring masses.

This novel is, essentially, a road trip novel but without the car. Holly hitches rides and walks, instead and Dowd has painted an adventurous (yet somehow still gritty)portrait of this experience. One of the strengths of the novel lies in its protagonist, Holly.

I'll be honest: I didn't like Holly all that much at first. She's bratty, she's cruel, she's constantly calling herself a "Care-babe" and disliking her life. But she won me over, as the novel went along and I got to know her better. The revelations about her pasts were seamlessly integrated in flashbacks that switched to present tense within the overall past narration. I didn't even notice that's what was happening until one of the very last flashbacks, because it's done that well.

The novel's other strength is it's voice. The story takes place in London, but Holly has a fixation with getting back to Ireland and finding her mother. Tiny details seem to have the Irish voice infused throughout, which is offset nicely by the vivid way the English setting is brought to life by the simple writing that still contains gorgeous imagery.

On the OWL scale? Solace of the Road is another O for Outstanding.

I recommend you guys check it out. I'm going to try and get my hands on a copy of the same author's award-winning Bog Child.

All Writers Go Through It: Self Doubt

2010-06-26T05:39:00.000-07:00

I have this problem where every time I get into a WIP I start thinking "No. Why the hell did I think I could write this story?! It's obviously WAY beyond my skill as a writer. As a human, even."

This happens to me every time I try to write a book. I usually push past it and shut the hell up and write my book (although lately I've been trunking projects like I am the trunker to end all other trunkers).

I'm saying this, because there are moments when you're writing and you just get crippled by self doubt. For me, the self doubt manifests itself in a fear of my own arrogance. Thoughts like "Holy shit, I'm an egotistical maniac" get pretty common for me in the swampy middle of an MS.

Because really.

What right do I have to tell this story?

Any story?

Let's face it, to be honest, writing is a really weird thing to do. You sit down at your keyboard(or with your pen and paper if you're still pretending to live in the dark ages) and you write your little heart out. Think about it. Think about it really hard.

There are so many other things we/I/you could be doing.

I could be learning guitar like I've been intending to for, oh, only the past six years.

I could fit in yet another cup of tea for the day (I'm a tea addict, guys. I drink like six cups a day and if I don't I get super moody).

Hell, I could go watch a movie with some friends or better yet go to a party (actually, that's not better for me. I happen to dislike parties unless they're of the eight-year-old variety).

I think the reason I think I'm arrogant for writing, instead of doing all those other things, is because I'm so caught up in the idea of creating something, carving a story, where there used to be nothing. Marks on a page. That's all writing is. But it can mean so much, to so many people.

Wanting to create things, to play god but with a manuscript, strikes me as arrogant.

The other reason I think it's arrogant is because as a child I worshipped authors as if they were gods (although, let's be honest, I'm not exactly a religious zealot so you probably shouldn't take this to mean very much). Every time I write, I think that I'm aspiring to that kind of god-status. And I feel like such a phony, like, how could I even PRETEND to be as awesome as an author?

This kind of thinking inevitably leads to a crippling state of self doubt and an oh-no-I-don't-want-to-be-arrogant state of mind. Most of the time I work around this by drowning the self doubt away with lots of wangsty music. But sometimes it's hard to see around the fact that most writers are WAY better than you and you're being incredibly presumptuous to think you can climb this aspiring-author-mountain.

Then I just require large amounts of chocolate.

But look, I think everyone feels this way sometimes. Unworthy of their goals and aspirations. AND YOU ARE MOST PROBABLY WORTHY. If you're willing to work for it, sweat for it, bleed for it (hyperbole. I seriously don't encourage you to BLEED for your writing. Sweat maybe if it's summer and your air-con's broke and you write on like the little soldier that you are) then you're worthy.

And that's the point of this post (not that sometimes I think I'm arrogant), that anyone who's willing to fight for it is worthy.

How about you guys? Do you ever feel like you're just not good enough (I can just imagine a whole chorus of people shouting back "ONLY ALL THE TIME, VEE. ONLY ALL THE TIME.") and if so, how do you deal with it?

ETA: If I owe you a query crit, I'm dreadfully sorry. You're totally free to hate me. School's kicking my ass. I'll have 'em back to you guys by next Sunday for sure, though (I'm on break :))

Teaser!

2010-06-22T01:45:00.000-07:00

I am so busy that I am blog-dead and doing little else but teasing. Soon, I'll be back properly to write real posts :) From CROSSROADS:

Ben stops at the end of the hill and points. In the corner of the Takochis’ garden is a swing set with red fairy lights twisted around it. Soft red light twines its way through metallic chains that attach the swings to their wooden frame.

It's an impressive sight.

“How the hell do they get the electricity up here?” I ask.

Ben shrugs. “The Takochis are geniuses. I’d be too stupid to do it.”

He picks his way over the grass, skipping around short bushes until he gets to the swing set. He plonks down onto one of the seats and the red light washes over his face. He looks like a stop sign, telling me right then and there to head back to that fucking party.

I ignore the paranoia – because I’m still like five hundred percent sure that he’s not going to kill me, and I can still hear the music from the house, which is a good sign that I’m within ‘screaming distance’ – and go join him.

I don’t know whether the swing really smells of cherries, or whether my mind’s just being tricked by the presence of the fairy lights. “Ken’s got a weird sense of decor,” I mutter, as I sit down on the swing. Scuff my shoes through the gravel at its base.

Rough stones. Pressing against my shoes. Pressing against my skin.

Teaser!

2010-06-15T01:34:00.000-07:00

To everyone who's still waiting on a query critique from me -- I'm sorry I'm taking forever. I've been distracted by some very flirtatious WIPs, but I WILL be back to you soon (and keep the queries coming, guys. I like critiquing them).

From one of ze flirtatious WIPS that is currently called CROSSROADS:

The dress is above my head and my t-shirt’s still on and there’s no way that the dress is going over this tee.

So I say, “Oh. Fuck it.”

Shirt off. Bra on display for the entire world to see – even though no one’s here, my hands feel like dropping the dress and trying to cover myself up. Goodness, I’m way too self conscious. How the hell do people who model underwear resist their fight-or-flight urges?

I move quickly, bring the dress down onto my head. There’s this brief moment where the material struggles against my hair and strands of hair get pushed every which way, some of them landing in my mouth. Taste of the strawberry shampoo I used yesterday.

Then the dress slips over my head and the world turns blue. Sunlight swelling up through the soft material, bathing me in warmth. Inside, I’m purring like a contented cat because my purple lacy bra is no longer on display.

But that doesn’t mean that Kelse isn’t laughing.

“Shuddup,” I say.

She just goes right on ahead. Like she’s a freaking bird cawing. Or the wicked witch of the east cackling away. Kelsey and elegant laughter don’t really mix.

“Seriously. Focus on the freaking road, okay?”

She quiets down a little and stares straight ahead at the road. A couple years back, someone in Kelse’s family was involved in a road accident. Her cousin. She didn’t die. But the guy she crashed into? He did.

It’s weird that even when there’s so much sunlight in the world, dripping out of the sky and spinning through the strands of our hair, there is so much darkness sitting inside of us. Everyone has secrets. Everyone is equal parts heartbreak and happy dance.

Review: The Sky is Everywhere

2010-06-13T07:06:00.000-07:00

Summary, straight from the back of the book:

What's wrong with me?

What kind of girl wants to kiss every boy at a funeral, wants to maul a guy in a tree after making out with her (dead) sister's boyfriend the previous night?

Speaking of which, what kind of girl makes out with her sister's boyfriend at all?

I LOVED IT. With all of my little heart.

So, here's why I thought this book was so awesome:
1. Lennie Walker, the protagonist. By about five pages into the book I felt as if we'd been best friends since forever. That's how great the characterisation is.

2. The romance. SO WONDERFUL. This may be ironic, considering my last post about how not all girls are boy-obsessed, but I felt like Jandy Nelson carved out a realistic character with so many other facets (Heathcliff obsession, poet, crazy pot plant doppelganger) and the boy-crazy was just one tiny element of Lennie that was taking precedent during this phase of her life. Because teenagers are horny.

Plus I found Joe Fontaine absolutely swoon worthy. And I don't swoon for many characters (I think this list is limited to Gilbert Blythe, Jonathan from Tamora Pierce's Song of the Lioness Quartet and now, Joe Fontaine).

3.The way grief was sketched in this book was amazing. Jandy Nelson's images were so visceral, so real, particularly in the poems.

4. Prose. I already mentioned the incredibly imagery that brought the grief of this protagonist (whose lost her sister) alive in my heart and mind, but there's also the matter of voice. I thought it was masterful. I could HEAR Lennie speaking.

I actually didn't intend to write a review for this book. I just wanted to read it, because I'd heard great things about. But I finished it last night/morning (it was 1am) and I haven't been able to get it out of my head since. You know a book is good when it keeps you up until midnight and you KNOW a book is good when you're still thinking about it the next day.

Basically: I LOVED THIS BOOK. SO MUCH.

On the OWL scale? O for Outstanding. Most definitely.

On Resenting the Stereotypical "Girl"

2010-06-10T03:09:00.000-07:00

I am a girl.

This in no way means that I'm in love with pink, sparkly nail polish and/or Justin Beiber.

This in no way means that I am emotionally weak, or sugar-spice-and-all-things nice, or that boys make me tremble at the freaking knees.

So why is this the depiction of teenage girls we so often see in in books and on television?

I don't know, and that's why I'm writing this post.

One of the things I've found really interesting about both of my books from a female perspective is that a lot of readers initially thought the protagonists were male, and I don't think this is because my female characters sound masculine or something.

I think it;s because the world tells us that teenage girls sound this weird-certain-way and then we wind up going oh, hey, girl voice. The girl voice that dominates magazines is this "OMG-my-boyfriend-did-X-and-X-and-ruined-my-world" and I'm not saying that's bad. Not at all. No way. Because some girls do sound like that.

I AM saying that girls are really diverse. Like all people. And teenage girls, as such, can't be pigeon holed into this stereotypical image, because it's really way too narrow. Because it says teenage girls are all a certain way when they're REALLY NOT ALL LIKE THAT.

For instance. Beiber Fever. I don't know a single teenage girl who likes Justin Beiber. I mean, we don't have anything against him, he's just this weird kid, to be honest. I think I know a shit-ton of people who pretend to like Beiber (girls and boys alike) because they reckon it's funny (I know, I don't get the joke either...Odd friends, but I love them regardless.)

Things not-all-teenage-girls-do/that a large portion of teenage girls don't do:
1)Fangirl constantly. Sometimes, yes. But not all the freaking time.
2)Love Twilight.
3)Speak like "Omg-wtf-biatch-he's-like-hawwwwtttt"
4)Feel that boys make their worlds go round. Because boys are like the sun and have weird gravitational powers.

HONESTLY. What is up with these girls in fiction who FAINT when someone kisses them? Who bloody does that? I mean, seriously. I am the queen. of. fainting. I faint pretty regularly (I have ridiculously low iron levels). But really? After making out? Was it that bad?

What is up with the girls who feel so much pain to be away from guys they've known for a fortnight?

I'm not saying that all teenage girls in fiction have to be non-girly and start a vendetta against pink or anything (I'm all for the pink. It's a pretty gorgeous colour). It's just. Lately, I've noticed this trend towards portraying teenage girls as being really vacuous.

And this post is just to say: We're not all that bad. Teenage girls ARE in fact three dimensional people, rather than just fangirling weirdos.

/end-rant.

To clarify: This is not so much about books as it is about media. Although I do wish that books would show some diversity, too. Weak heroines are beginning to irk me.

I Like Queries

2010-06-07T04:43:00.000-07:00

So, the lovely Kat Zhang inspired me. She's giving up her editorial services for free to one lucky person. It's pretty cool.

And I thought, "Hey, I'm not giving back enough to this awesome writing community. I should be paying it forward."

SO I THOUGHT I'D DO THE SAME THING.

Well, similar.

But with queries, cause I'm too busy for manuscripts at the moment.

Now. I am NOT the best query writer (well, the ones I queried with sucked. Now the one I wrote for the book that I never got around to querying? Yeah. That thing was epic), but I DID get seventeen requests for fulls and fourteen for partials when querying CoS. I think that's about a 30% request rate (not good at maths, guys).

Anyway, I'm willing to look at any and all queries and offer comments. Dude, it takes me five minutes to read these things. Plus, I enjoy procrastinating --what do you think I'm doing right now?

So *deep breath* YES I AM TOTALLY UNQUALIFIED APART FROM THESE THINGS 1)Reader 2)Writer.

Query advice is indefinite (but get second opinions, seriously, queries are subjective as hell).

All you have to do is shoot me an email me your query.

Go, go, go! Spam my inbox!

vees_vendetta(at)yahoo(dot)com

Teen Writers

2010-06-04T07:11:00.001-07:00

I've been thinking about this a lot, lately. There's this weird idea that people shouldn't really consider writing until they're older, wiser, and better in general. And this idea often takes shape in the form of really well meaning advice about how you're probably going to suck, and probably shouldn't pursue publication, and you probably shouldn't...

Well, you get the idea. People are going to have a lot of advice for you, and they're going to talk about things you should do a lot.

But. Deep breath. I'm going to go against all the well meaning advice out there about not pursuing publication. Instead, I'm going to say what I'd say to anyone who wanted to get published: Submit.

Yes, if it's your first attempt at a novel it probably sucks (although, not always, I'm sure some people write brilliant first novels. I'm not one of them, but I know they're out there. I'm SO jealous). Yes, if you're seventeen you probably don't know all there is to know about life (I, for one, don't know very much about life...).

But. But. But.

If you don't write it, you'll never know. If you don't put yourself out there, you'll never know.

How do you measure what's good and what's not?

I know I often think work I write is just complete shit and then my beta readers will say, "Um. Best scene ever. See, that one over there? THAT one sucks." And the one that sucks? Inevitably one I thought was good.

Writers are not good judges of their own work.

So where am I going with this? I guess what I'm trying to say is that for all the "probablys" in the world that people can give you, you'll never know ANYTHING unless you give it a go.

I know, I know how scary it can seem. There was a point where I considered giving up on querying until I was at least twenty one.

And it's cool if you want to wait because you don't think you'd feel comfortable with any of what you're writing now published. If it's YOU that's decided not to submit, then that's your decision.

But if you want to write? Write. If you want to write novels instead of the short stories and poetry that you're advised to: Do it. If you want to submit your work, don't get caught up in all the advice and probablys and probably-nots. Submit.

Remember, if you never try, you'll never know.

Tease Tease Tease!

2010-06-01T01:09:00.000-07:00

I'm revising THE GNOME IS WATCHING at the moment so this teaser's from there :D

“You liked Amy better when she was fat,” I manage to wheeze out.

It’s understandable. I mean, her methods of losing weight were questionable. Yo-yo dieting. Bulimia. Sometimes I hated Thin-Amy, too. I hated her for what she was doing to herself. I hated her for making me watch.

And I hate my memory for taking me back to that, because it’s not something I want to think about. Because it forces me to admit that Amy had more than moments. It forces me to admit that Amy was wasting away right in front of me.

That, when she laughed her head off and broke into that supermarket her arms were skinny as sticks. Brittle, breakable bone.

Her mind was breaking. Her heart, too.

And I never did anything.

We. Never. Did. Anything.

And I’m thinking about this, and my head’s getting all dizzy and Mark’s still looking down at me. Looking, as if he’s seen a ghost.

The color drains out of his face which he turns up to the sun. As if hoping it’ll burn him, tan him and restore his normal complexion. “What?” he says. “What are you talking about?”

Write What You Don't Know

2010-05-29T05:58:00.000-07:00

Write what you know. It's a general writing maxim. I think it's utter crap.

Here's why:
JK Rowling is not a boy wizard (Harry Potter)
J.R.R Tolkien is not a hobbit (Lord of the Rings)
Laurie Halse Anderson is not an African American girl from the time of the Civil War (Chains)
Shakespeare didn't know any fairies (at least I think he didn't...Midsummer Night's Dream).
Melina Marchetta probably didn't participate in turf wars as a high schooler (Jellicoe Road).

So, as you can see, writing what you know is overrated. Very, very overrated.

The people who usually give me this advice are usually older than me and then they directly contradict themselves by saying something like "But don't write about teenagers, no one wants to read that!"

I suppose by writing about teenagers I AM writing what I know, and I think that with any work of fiction there are going to be elements of the writer's experience wrapped up in the prose. But you know what, my characters are not me. They do not live in my world, and if I wrote about them using the experiences I know it would probably just make for a very contrived story.

Truth: I don't know very much. A couple of maths formulas are basically all I know for certain-sure. Everything else is a bit less tangible -- I know the feeling of dislocation (moved countries at age six), I know love, I know hate, I know what it's like when the warm blasts of air and that weird gasoline smell fold around you like a blanket when you're next to an engine.

It's not that I don't draw on these experiences, these things I know, when writing -- I do. It's just that a lot of stuff is also purely imagined. For instance, I have never decided to find heaven on earth (The Colors of Sky). Nor have I decided to throw myself off barns and into rivers (The Gnome is Watching). I think, in those instances, not having had the actual experience is irrelevant.

You can write anything, you really can. I mean, you can write about aliens and people regularly write from the POV of animals or inanimate objects (Brian Jacques didn't know what mice were like on an emotional level, okay. I' willing to bet on that). What you need to pull on to write that anything, to make that anything believable, are these basic emotions that everyone has.

Love. Hate. Jealousy. Compassion. Sadness etc.

You take those emotions, and you see where they fit into the scene you're currently writing. Like, say you want a sad scene. Think of a time when you were really broken up by something -- everyone has heartbreak in their life.

So you don't "write what you know" as in write about your own personal experiences. But you do utilise your experiences to make your writing more believable (I think most people do this on a subconscious level, though. God knows I don't sit there being like "sad thoughts for this scene!").

And this -- THIS -- is precisely why the excuses people make about being too old/too young/the wrong race/the wrong height/the wrong nationality to write certain characters are just that: excuses. You are not restricted to writing what you know (though if you don't know something and are going to write about a group of people very different to yourself culturally, you'd best research them). Go ahead, take the leap and give yourself permission to write what you don't know.

Review, Eon: Dragoneye Reborn by Alison Goodman

2010-05-27T04:32:00.000-07:00

So I've been promising this review for a while (I'm always like "Soon, I'll post it soon!" But it's just taken me forever).

So, first up a summary from Penguin Group USA: Action—a stunning magic system—swordplay galore!

Eon has been studying the ancient art of Dragon Magic for four years, hoping he’ll be able to apprentice to one of the twelve energy dragons of good fortune. But he also has a dark secret. He is actually Eona, a sixteen-year-old girl who has been living a dangerous lie for the chance to become a Dragoneye, the human link to an energy dragon’s power. It is forbidden for females to practice the Dragon Magic and, if discovered, Eon faces a terrible death. After a dazzling sword ceremony, Eon’s affinity with the twelve dragons catapults him into the treacherous world of the Imperial court where he makes a powerful enemy, Lord Ido. As tension builds and Eon’s desperate lie comes to light, readers won’t be able to stop turning the pages

Anyway, I finished Eon tonight, and I thought it had some really promising elements. Goodman sketched the alternate universe really well, the asian element to the fantasy drawn out in a balanced way. The main character, from the beginning, was someone I wanted to root for. She was a girl, in a situation where she had to deny her gender and she was also a cripple. The ultimate underdog, really.

Unfortunately, this book just didn't resonate with me even though I really did want to enjoy it.

I felt that the main character, Eon (aka really Eona), was a little bit inconsistent. Sometimes she'd be totally stressing about being crippled and it would affect all of her actions, but at other times she wouldn't think about it for entire chapters. Furthermore, from a reader's perspective, a lot of the plot twists were rather obvious so I was sitting there yelling "Why can't you seeee???" at Eon (obviously, this is also kind of a good thing, because it shows reader engagement with the plotting).

But that was really a small thing, I think there were two factors that made this book not my cup of tea. The first is pace, and the second is voice. The second is pretty easy and hard to explain. In one sentence: I didn't connect to the main character's voice. I just didn't, I don't know why. It's one of those really subjective things, and I think someone who does connect to the voice (and I've heard a lot of people who really like this book say they did) would thoroughly enjoy the read.

My not relating to the voice caused the second problem, in a way. Because I didn't connect to it, everything slowed down, and because the pacing was rather slower in general to allow for that rich world building, the book just felt like it was moving incredibly slowly to me. I mean, I could appreciate the plotting while I was reading, and the tightness of the prose, but it just felt really slow.

Obviously, this is just my take on the book and so much of that has to do with not forging that connection with the voice. I do think this isn't a bad book, and that other readers will probably enjoy it more than me.

On the OWL scale (what? you don't remember that I rate books based on the fifth year examinations in Harry Potter?) this book is an A for Acceptable.

An arc of this book somehow fell into my hands. It was free...Just so you know

Teaserlicious

2010-05-25T04:33:00.000-07:00

Because I like blog post titles that are bad takes on song titles/album titles/I am so freaking out of it that I don't even know. There's some music thing called Bootylicious, right?

In other news: I received my first rejection (from submissions to editors, I have received many other types of rejections). It was a nice rejection, I feel kind of relieved to have it. So I'm happy, all in all, about being rejected (my family think I'm really weird right now. I think they were expecting tears and tantrums or something).

Also: Review of Eon coming up very soon. I'm up to the last thirty pages or so.

And something I think all you writerly folk should check out: Agent Sarah Davies tells How to Write a Breakout Novel -- it's totally informative :)

Now, on to my tease, which is going to be very short this week.

“Ladies and gentleman.”

The crowd falls silent.

Well, almost silent.

There’s a man at the front of the crowd still talking to his wife, waving his hands around. He obviously hasn’t heard the imperative “shut up” lurking underneath “ladies and gentleman.”

The bullet hits him in the back. Red flowers across the dull brown of his shirt.

I want to clench my fists, but instead I clench my mind. Clench it so tight that none of my thoughts are trickling. Trickling like the blood against that man’s skin.

The wife screams and then she's down, and my eyelids are down, too. Shadows dance beyond the lids and I can hear murmurs break out, but then a third bullet zings against the metal of one of the buildings.

And then everyone knows the assassins are here.

And then everyone is quiet.

Just Write Your Book, Okay?

2010-05-21T03:30:00.000-07:00

So whenever anyone ever-ever-ever brings up 'edgy' (what does that even mean anymore?) YA, someone always mentions something along the lines of "BUT THE LIBRARIES WON'T STOCK YOU AND THE PARENTS WON'T BUY YOU AND YOU ARE DESTINED TO FAIL."

This. Is. Bullshit.

(Not to put too fine a point on things).

Let me dispel some myths about your average YA bookbuyer (me):

1) My parents have absolutely no control over what I read. We don't often have family outings to the bookstore where they pick out a whole load of books that are 'suitable' for me to read. Although on my birthday, my mum and dad will definitely pick out books for me. Some of those books are incredibly edgy, some of those books (most, actually) are not even YA (I have an affinity for adult literary).

In terms of how I finance this? Um, I used to have this thing called a part time job. It earned me close to a thousand bucks before I quit...I promptly blew most of this money on books and going out. Birthday money, pocket money (yes, I'm seventeen and I still get this) have started to stand in.

2) My school library has no control over what I read. I mean, my school library don't seem to have much of a problem with stocking edgy (they have a lot of Margo Lanagan and Maureen Johnson and what-not-banned-titles), and I think that's largely a result of the fact that in Australia there is not nearly the same push to prevent kids from reading things that are 'bad' for them. BUT. If my library didn't stock a book I wanted to read? I'D GO OUT AND BUY THE FREAKING BOOK.

Just saying.

Look, what libaries stock is not half as important as word of mouth and kids actually liking your book. My school library is a bit behind the times on John Green (they don't have any of his books, I'm recommending them soon, though), but I do know that word of mouth has spawned John Green readers in my year group. The nerdfighters are multiplying. This happened, in large part, due to word of mouth. Kids saying, "You know who's awesome? John Green..." Not because their books happened to be in our school library (I mean, really, there are lots of books in our school library that no one will touch. Gossip Girl, for instance, hasn't found a cult following at my school...)

So write your book and let the chips fall where they may.

If it's a good book, people will find out about it regardless of whether it's in the school library or not.

And please, GIVE UP on the notion that parents have control over what their teenage kids read (to be honest, mine have never tried to censor me, but I think it would have become impossible at age thirteen).

If you think kids are not quite smart enough to handle your content, or that it's too much for their poor adolescent brains that will just implode...Well, I'm going to hold off on a ruder response and just say that I do not like being told I'm stupid either emotionally or intellectually. I can handle adult fic and have been able to do so for years (and don't tell me I'm atypical, the majority of my friends can, too). I can handle your content.

Trust me.

Oh, and tangential point: WHERE does the stupid-stupid-stupidest-of-stupids argument that YA can't be 'too literary' come from? I agree that YA generally has a faster pace (but that's only generally. Dude, have you read Twilight?) but that doesn't mean less literary. Perks of Being a Wallflower, Meg Rosoff, Margo Lanagan, Melina Marchetta, John Green, Markus Zusak, Laurie Halse Anderson. It's funny, but whenever I bring these authors up to people who think YA is trash? They say something along the lines of "But isn't so-and-so an adult author?"

But what do you guys think? Is it possible that writing an edgy book is a one-way ticket to anti-best-seller-dom? Post your thoughts in the comments.

Teaser Tuesday

2010-05-18T00:27:00.000-07:00

From THE UNDERGROUND. Also, my review of Eon? Going to take a little longer than expected due to scholarly difficulties (Read: school's kicking my ass).

--

Roscoe catches my hand. His thumb slides over the inside of my wrist. Soft skin breathing against soft skin.

He leans close, so close that I can hear his whisper over the shrieking blasts of noise spewing from the speakers. “We could still run.”

I remember the day he kissed me. Warm sunlight, cold body, mind racing. Thoughts like embers when his face moved closer to mine. Thoughts that flared up, a bonfire, when our lips touched.

I kissed him back.

His words, always so persuasive, always almost-hypnotic, describing the ideal. The place, far away from here, that we could escape to. If we took a risk, he said, we could get out. We could get out and we could travel and –

He never mentioned that we would be able to free fall into love. But the idea was there, spinning around like a hurricane behind his words.

I bite my lip. We could disappear into the crowds, bob and weave like a needle through thread and disappear into the side streets. We could run with our hair streaming behind us. Run and run and run. But to where?

Nowhere.

We would never make it out of Sable City. The guards would catch us.

And when my palm drops onto the black rock, the camera in the middle of the stage I’m supposed to be walking up to, twenty people go down with me.

Twenty people. Twenty people.

I can’t kill them. I can’t run. As much as I want to, I can’t run.

“Roscoe, no – I can’t.”

I slide my wrist from his grasp. He lets go slowly, finger by finger by finger.

Dude, seriously, no, really, like, totally

2010-05-15T05:49:00.000-07:00

As you may be able to tell from the title, this post is about teenage slang.

Sometimes, I'll be beta-reading a novel or a piece in SYW and a character will say, "Homie" or "Dawg". This inevitably ends up with me rolling around on the floor of my bedroom laughing.

Guys, if you write dialogue like that you should feel guilty right now, because my bedroom floors are wooden and ROFL-ing hurts me (I will dutifully do a post on IM speak later, if so desired).

And just FYI: KIDS DON'T SPEAK LIKE THAT.

At least not the ones I know. (Also, if your character who drops the dawg-bomb every second word never drops the f-bomb? I will like, really, totally, seriously, dude, throw a grenade at your manuscript).

Allow me to show you how to write realistic dialogue using some examples.

Example#1: "Oh.Em.GEE, homies, that dawg is totally busting a cool breakdance move on the Principal's car!"

(Sidenote: Somebody please write this scene and send it to me for laughs? I will love you for-freaking-ever. As a bribe, detailed crit of the first ten pages of your manuscript -- remember, I'm slightly unqualified).

Example #2: "Shit. That guy is totally breakdancing on the Principal's Car!"

I, uh, seriously hope that you realised example number two was much more naturalistic than example number one. Dude, seriously, really, totally, DO NOT try and teen-speak in your novel.

Because teen-speak is some fake concept manufactured by movies and books (bad ones, generally). If your characters don't speak like the latest rapper (and I must say they're usually pretty crap, yeah -- yes, that was my attempt at rapping in a blog entry) it's FINE. In fact, it's absolutely DANDY.

Deep breaths.

/End-rant.

*pops back in*

Just in case it hasn't sunk in...Moral of the story is to not use tired, cliched phrases that you think are teen speak in your novel.

How do you guys feel about the use of teen-speak in novels? Does it piss you off? Or are you totes cool with it, like, for realz?

I'm a Tease

2010-05-11T00:28:00.001-07:00

From somewhere near the end of the first chapter of my dystopian THE UNDERGROUND. Enjoy :)

“I want you to join us. The Resilience.” He speaks loudly, clearly and at the word "Resilience" his friends jump. Their lax postures vanish and they stand, bolt upright. Shoulder to shoulder. Roscoe’s support troops.

They stare me down.

I stare them down.

My insides twist.

Last week, I was asked to draw a picture of The Resilience. I drew youths in leather jackets. All male. Hair slicked back, features like ice, jutting jaws and cheekbones that cut out of their faces like sword points.

In my picture, meant to inform the people, the Resilience are all hard lines. The Resilience are not just dangerous, they’re a Molotov Cocktail. Dangerous, harsh, with maybe just a dash of evil. Let them touch ground anywhere near you? They explode, taking you down with them.

But I look at these kids. And they’re nothing like that.

Their cheeks are slim – but whose aren’t? The Rationing is so bad these days – but scrubbed red from the exertion of following me. Eyes glitter, perceptive rather than the dull empty ones I etched in grey.

For fuck’s sake, there are smiles, twitching at the corners of their lips.

My pictures couldn’t have been further from the truth. But my pictures are the people’s perception and I draw what The Officials want me to.

Just a Quick Update

2010-05-09T03:04:00.001-07:00

I did one of those success story interviews for Querytracker a little while ago, which was pretty fun.

But I also did a super cool interview with choco at In Which a Girl Reads (which I totally should have posted about earlier). If you've read choco's blog you know that she's freaking hilarious, and it shows in her interview questions.

I'm not quite as awesome, but I'm hoping I make it into semi-awesome territory, at least. You guys should check it out and tell me.

Some news on the writing front: THE COLORS OF SKY is now on submission to editors (it actually has been since last Monday, I've just been sitting on the news a little). Which is pretty exciting and nerve-racking at the same time. It feels weird to let it go out into the world and stop obsessing about it.

Of course, I've cured that weird feeling by, um, obsessing over The Gnome is Watching. And beginning a new dystopian project which is tentatively titled THE UNDERGROUND (I'm open to suggestions, though. Anyone got a cool title for a book about art, government repression, royal love affairs, media creating cults based around particular people etc?)

And expect a book review of Alison Goodman's Eon towards the end of the week for Multicultural Review Month(s).

One last question, in case anyone's actually reading this blog: Is there anything you guys would like me to discuss? I'm happy to talk about pretty much any topic (I'm freaking opinionated) and/or answer any questions (that I know the answer to, seriously, if it's about physics homework I'm going to be hopeless. If you want query advice, I could probably assist to some extent. Same goes with writing advice).

Post your thoughts in the comments :)

Because I Thought I Should Say Something...

2010-05-07T20:55:00.000-07:00

I'm writing this post because of Kristin Otts' amazing post on body image.

I'm writing this post because I think just about everyone hates the way they look sometimes.

God knows, I do.

I have a lot of hang ups about the way I look -- but who doesn't, you know?

I may be too lazy and slap dash to ever stick to a dangerous diet. Because, to be totally honest, my body/appearance doesn't make the list of things I care about greatly in this life (family, friends, writing. The end. Yeah, I'm not particularly interesting).

But for some girls and boys and men and women, their body and appearance DOES make that list. Personally, I don't think it should. I think the media hypes up appearance and makes it seem like we have to look perfect to get anywhere in life. I don't think that's true, but I do think it'll BECOME true if we don't address the unhealthy images being projected to young girls and boys.

I'll be honest: There are a lot of things I really dislike about my appearance. My nose, my eyebrows, my shoulders, my lips, my thighs. But there are also things I like about my appearance -- my eyes, my hair etc.

Some people get lost in the self-hatred and forget to like, no LOVE, at least certain aspects of themselves and their appearance. Because when you realise it's not all bad (and I'm telling you right now that it isn't), it's easier to own yourself and be a bit more confident. And confidence, really, is the most attractive quality a person can have.

When I was younger I used to have this ridiculous idea that everyone was watching me when I was in public. Picking my appearance to pieces, finding and critiquing every single flaw. Then I realised that the reality of the matter is that most people who have lives simply don't have the time and botheration levels required to do that. The realisation that the people who DO criticise everyone they see are sad and twisted and I shouldn't let them get me down (dude, this sounds like I'm getting all girl power or something, haha. Sorry.).

To anyone else out there who feels judged like that, I have something else to say to you, too...I hardly EVER judge people based on their appearance (and in the cases where I do, it's more to do with hygiene, tbh. I'm a clean freak). I thik 99.9% of people are amazingly gorgeous. In my humble opinion, you are all of you, fan-freaking-tastic.

Don't change yourself to conform to some lofty bullshit ideal.

Own those gorgeous lips, that awesome waist line, those amazing biceps. Own that broken nose (cause I sure as hell own mine, these days), own that little beauty spot, your freckles and your pimples.

Chances are all the things you think are flaws? They're actually goddamn adorable and give you character.

And remember, always remember, that YOU are beautiful to someone. That to someone out there, you're ideal.

Rock on, beautiful kids.

P.S There will be a photo of me in all my un-made-up glory coming up (dude, I never wear make up, haha) as Kristin instructs. Just not today, cause I don't have a camera. But soon :)

Soon has arrived! Me, sans make up, at the top of this post. Cause I couldn't figure out how to get it down here, lol.

Teaser!

2010-05-04T02:40:00.000-07:00

I think everyone knows that I'm a total sucker for Teaser Tuesdays, so I'm going to be posting one even though I haven't been writing TOO much lately (suffice it to say, school and nasty colds have been kicking my ass like a freaking kung fu master).

Anyway, ahem, teaser from AM I THERE YET (because I'm revising TGIW based on the beta feedback I've gotten so far -- also, dear awesome beta readers, for those of you who're reading, you're NOT USELESS. Why do you all seem to think this? *clucks tongue* silly betas).

Now. To tease:

The idiot is upright, propped against fluffy white pillows, head-banging to heavy metal music and his dirty blonde hair is all across his eyes. Don’t blame him for not being able to see us. If I had hair that much hair across my face I wouldn’t be able to either.

I move a few steps closer and I can hear his music leaking out of the headphones. And now I know why he can’t hear us, either. It’s the kind of music that’s basically just screaming. The kind where the bass and drum beat clash like Titans and the singer’s voice is a screech of chalk down a blackboard.

I knew Michael Grant couldn’t be as perfect as he pretends to be. He has terrible taste in music. And this has to be the weirdest pre-sleep tradition ever.
Someone speaks from behind me and I jump. Ally.

“What did you say?”

Her words kind of got lost somewhere between my thumping heart and Michael’s thumping music.

Ally rolls her eyes. “I said, is it safe for me to come in?”

She’s whispering now, I notice. Now that her own neck is on the line. Oh my God. I can feel a sheople-snapping-at-people moment coming right up.

“Yeah, it’s safe.” I make my voice as loud as possible. Almost a shout.

God, maybe Michael won’t hear but it’s totally possible that I wake up his parents or his little sister or even the crazy cat lady who lives next door to him who used to put out milk and cookies for some spirits when we were kids.

Me and Ally used to steal the cookies and leave the milk, so now this woman thinks that spirits don’t like milk. This is why she is a crazy cat lady as opposed to just a cat lady.

So anyways, I shout and then Ally’s getting into the room with this triumphant smile on her face and I’m all like: Bitch. I’m like your freaking body shield or something, aren’t I? And I’m so about to explode at her, because I’m still feeling like a ninja and ninjas don’t stand for shit from their friends.

But then she wraps her arms around me and she’s smiling into my hair like she has done since we were six. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

It’s like I saved her from the big bad wolf or something. She’s huffing and she’s puffing and she’s blowing my resolve to become an evil-robot-sheople down. Totally, completely collapsed.

Teaser Tuesday

2010-04-27T04:30:00.000-07:00

Super-rough opening from my new WIP AM I THERE YET :)

*snip*

Review # 4: Chains by Laurie Halse Anderson

2010-04-25T19:43:00.000-07:00

In one word: Amazing.

Laurie Halse Anderson is someone who gets a lot of rave reviews. It's for this reason, precisely, that I haven't touched any of her books. Because so often books that get rave reviews disappoint me. Not because they're bad books, or anything, but because my expectations are never met.

But.

Laurie Halse Anderson totally met my expectations. Exceeded them, even. And I should really have learnt by now (I avoided John Green for a while because of rave reviews. And The Hunger Games) that the times this happens totally make up for the times when books disappoint me.

A quick summary of Chains from the publisher: If an entire nation could seek its freedom, why not a girl?
As the Revolutionary War begins, 13-year-old Isabel wages her own fight... for freedom. Promised freedom upon the death of their owner, she and her sister, Ruth, in a cruel twist of fate become the property of a malicious New York City couple, the Locktons, who have no sympathy for the American Revolution and even less for Ruth and Isabel. When Isabel meets Curzon, a slave with ties to the Patriots, he encourages her to spy on her owners, who know details of British plans for invasion. She is reluctant at first, but when the unthinkable happens to Ruth, Isabel realizes her loyalty is available to the bidder who can provide her with freedom.

From acclaimed author Laurie Halse Anderson comes this compelling, impeccably researched novel that shows the lengths we can go to cast off our chains, both physical and spiritual.

Yeah, so I kind of adored this book. Not only for the story, which was so heartfelt and tackled some HUGE issues, but for the writing. I'm an absolutle sucker for lovely prose and Anderson has SUCH a way with imagery. She has an amazing voice. Her characters literally leap off the page.

I was basically green with writerly envy while reading this.

PLUS it's a historical novel, dealing with something I haven't seen that often (I've read quite a few Regencies, not quite so many books dealing with the American Revolution/Civil War). I became involved in the struggles going on at that time, felt Isabel (the protagonist's) confusion as she attempts to figure out whhere her loyalties lie. More importantly, I literally felt this character's shame, anger and frustration with her lack of freedom.

And I guess that's the theme in this novel that resonated the most with me.

Freedom is such a huge, massively important thing in this world. Freedom. The right to own yourself. To decide what you do and when you do it, within reason. We take it for granted, these days. God, I know I do. But reading this book made me value my freedom SO MUCH MORE. Because you know what? There are STILL people who are, essentially slaves in this world today, and this reminded me of that. There are still people who have to fight, every day, for their rights.

And sometimes, I don't even value mine. Sometimes I forget I'm lucky.

I'm damn lucky. Chances are, if you're reading this blog, you are too. We're the priveleged ones. We live in places where we can speak our minds and be ourselves. Our society's aren't perfect, but hell, I feel as if we're better off than a lot of others.

People fought and shed blood for us to get where we are today. People suffered, went through hardships -- some were slaves, others were discriminated against, others protested and fought and yelled at the tops of their lungs -- for my freedom. And that is an amazingly powerful idea.

It's books like this that give me hope in the human condition. That make me rethink all my anti-progress ideas, because hey, we can't have REGRESSED or stayed moving in a straight line if we abolished things like slaverly. That HAS to be progress.

Annnnd now,I have a new rating system (what? Everyone else seems to have a rating system) which I thought I'd explain a little bit. So I was thinking about ways I could rate books so readers would know HOW MUCH I loved them (because I've been noticing all my reviews are pretty rave-worthy at the moment, but that doesn't mean I like all of these books THE SAME. I kind of want to read a bad book to fix this problem, btw. Guys, so you know, I'm not lying in any of these reviews. I really do like the books). Anyway, I thought about doing a number-out-of-ten rating system, and I thought about doing a number-out-of-five rating system.

But then I thought: No, I'll never be able to make up my mind between a 3 and 4 an 8 and a 9. Because there are some really arbitrary lines there. Anyway. Because I am a TOTAL geek, my rating system is, um, stolen from Harry Potter.

I'm going to call it the OWL rating system. Because, yep, you guessed it, I'm rating books according to how good an OWL they'd get.

T for Troll
D for Dreadful
P for Poor
A for Acceptable
E for Exceeds Expectations
O for Outstanding.

So that's the rating system and...drumroll...on the super-epic OWL rating system, Chains gets: Outstanding (I don't even know why I did a drumroll, it was really so obvious).

Anyway, the other thing I wanted to talk about was: I'm not going to finish ten books by the end of this month (probably also obvious since it's the 26th and I'm still on review number four), school murdered my life. But I will carry this on through May until I hit ten reviews. And I'm going to KEEP ON doing book reviews after that, because I've discovered I like reviewing.

And yeah, I'm pretty sure that's all I wanted to say.

Oh, what do you guys think of the OWL rating system? :D

Review # 3: Where the Streets Had a Name.

2010-04-18T17:20:00.000-07:00

Where the Streets Had a Name by Randa Abdel Fattah follows the story of thirteen-year-old Hayaat, a Palestinian girl who braves the boundaries and checkpoints and other insane challenges in a quest to find and bring back some Jerusalem soil for her dying grandmother.

So, I think from that premise alone it's pretty easy to tell that this book is like wow-amazing. Sometimes, I read a book and I just think "Holy shit" and this was one of those times. The author is so BRAVE to take on these issues. I mean, I find the whole Israel Palestine conflict completely sad and devastating, and with a book like this I think it could have been easy to take one side too much and push that point of view. But Randa Abdel Fattah definitely avoids doing that.

In addition to a cracking good story, there's a poignant discussion of the issues surrounding the region. Fattah never takes sides or moralises, simply presents the views of various characters in the story -- which makes for a layered novel with much food for thought. The protagonist's young age is perfect, as it makes her more open-minded and thus the reader gets to see more facets than if she'd been older.

Sometimes I did feel as if the issues were taking precedent over the story, but it was only at a few points and it never happened for a long period of time. Besides, the issues were quite interesting so I didn't feel that took away too much from my enjoyment of the novel (also, I'm a sucker for lyrical prose and this novel is chock-a-block full of it, so I kind of got distracted ooh-ing and ahhh-ing over pretty imagery, and didn't really deconstruct too much, haha. I'm a bad analytical reader, sometimes).

In the end, this is a lovely novel. It's an incredibly BRAVE novel. It humanises an issue that I've seen for so long only in the pages of my history books and sometimes in newspapers. And when you humanise something, it loses any kind of clear-cut ideas you may have had about it. This novel didn't feel didactic, but my mind was opened and my horizons expanded on so many levels.

Yours will be too if you read this (and I seriously recommend that you do).

P.S Melina Marchetta fans, she totally blurbed this book and said she loved it. You know it's good if Melina Marchetta liked it!

Agented! What?!

2010-04-15T22:01:00.001-07:00

The past week has been absolutely CRAZY for me. Some of you may know that I've been querying my contemporary/literary/I-don't-even-know-anymore YA novel, SKYLAR'S STORY since January. Before that, I was querying my YA UF My Name is Death from October to December, and before that I was querying an earlier reincarnation of My Name is Death called "The Outlook is Bleak" around March of last year, and before that...

Well, you get the idea.

I've been querying for a long time. On and off since I was fifteen, basically -- that's TWO YEARS, people. Two years in the query trenches. I'm amazed I made it out alive, haha.

Anyway, the reason this past week has been crazy for me is because all that hard querying work paid off. I received not one, but three offers of representation on SKYLAR'S STORY. And I was faced with what was one of the toughest decisions of my life (Granted, I don't really make tough decisions too often. The toughest choice I make on a daily level is whether to get KFC or Pizza Hut at the foodcourt after school. But still).

My decision was made five hundred million times harder by the fact that two of the three offering agents had sent me revisions prior to offering representation. So I knew they were both awesome, and I knew they both had a great editorial eye. The other agent? Well she was just really enthusiastic about my book (they all were), which also made things hard.

I agonised, seriously, between these agents. Especially the two who'd sent revisions (and made a lot of the same suggestions). I mean, my book owed them, you know? In the end, I decided to go with my gut feeling and accepted an offer of representation from the absolutely wonderful Ammi-Joan Paquette at the Erin Murphy Literary Agency.

The story of how I signed with Joan is actually quite an interesting one. It begins with the story of my birth...Just kidding, I won't give you my life story (or maybe I will, and you're just spared for the day? Be afraid, guys). But anyway, in January of this year when I was just starting to query I entered a contest over at the wonderful Authoress' Miss Snark's First Victim blog. Secret Agent contests basically involve writers submitting the first 250 words which are then read and evaluated by a secret agent judge -- there's one going on now, you should check it out if you haven't already.

The agent for the month of January was...drumroll...Ammi-Joan Paquette.

I won the Secret Agent Contest, and my prize was submission of a full and a twenty-five page critique. So I sent in my materials, went on my merry way and didn't think too much about it (Okay, no, I'm not a freak of nature. I obsessed and thought about the submissions I was making ALL THE TIME. And I ate ice cream to deal with slow response times, because I am a cliche), and after a couple of weeks I got this AWESOME critique telling me exactly what was wrong with these opening pages.

I read over the comments and realised that the issues picked up were ones that affected not only this section, but THE ENTIRE book. So I was obviously panicking -- books are babies, and I'd just realised MY BABY was broken. Ahem. -- but then I realised it was okay, because I could fix this and there were some great suggestions as to HOW to do this that really resonated with me. So I looked over the entire manuscript and started fixing things scene by scene by scene.

I basically spent the next month or so revising and fusing together various responses and feedback I'd gotten on SKYLAR'S STORY, some of which were also really awesome and detailed and amazing ( though I must admit, I ignored the feedback that told me a) my voice was too young for a sixteen-year-old and b) my voice was too old for a sixteen-year-old, but I had good grounds for doing this. I mean, I was sixteen when I wrote the manuscript. Surely I'd have a decent handle on what people like me sounded like???? Besides, it was conflicting advice -- I usually toss conflicting advice). And during this time I became one of those really, really annoying people who enjoy revising. Truly. I get excited about revisions now, no shit.

Anyway, sometime near the end of March, I sent Joan my finished-revised awesome new version of SKYLAR'S STORY. And sometime near the beginning of April she got back to me with an email saying she loved it...The word "phenomenal" in relation to MY work really stuck out to me in that email. And then I told her I'd received another offer and she called me like five minutes later and I didn't know what to say because I hadn't expected anyone to call me.

Also, because I am afraid of phone calls (to an extent -- I used to be really bad, but then I did a week of work experience at HarperCollins and I wound up phoning every single radio station in the country...So that kinda cured me). So I kind of laughed like the stupid school girl I am while Joan answered a whole bunch of questions I SHOULD have been asking but wasn't (because I was too stupefied). I sent a few more follow up questions via email to her and the other interested agents, and this morning, I made my choice.

It was a hard choice, but I think I made a good one. I am SO OMG-happy-happy-happy right now, it's unbelievable.I've printed and signed the contract, and will be sending it off later today (yay!) and then there are more revisions in store (yay)and then submission (HOLY SHIT) and then final exams for my final year of high school (Oh, wait, that's not so exciting...)

So anyway, I owe one to Authoress over at Miss Snark's First Victim for holding those Secret Agent Contests, because I wouldn't have been able to submit to Joan otherwise. Her agency doesn't take unsolicited submissions. And I owe one to everyone who beta'd for me (a significant number of people reading this blog -- choco (dude, what would I do without you?), Amna, Margo, Vero, thank you. And I'm so freaking happy.

And I really have nothing else to say. Thanks for bearing with me, guys.

Review # 2 Liar by Justine Larbalestier

2010-04-12T23:24:00.000-07:00

So there was a huge white-washing scandal involving this book. But I don't really want to talk about it. Let's gloss over that -- I feel that it might detract from my fangirl squeeing over this book.

Look, whitewashing is really, really bad. I've mentioned that in my kickoff post -- go check that out if you can't remember why (basically, it perpetuates the strange idea that it's OKAY to have a totally uniform world in fiction, and it isn't), but I sometimes feel that these books wind up getting bought just because of the scandal, by certain readers. And then it's an excuse for people to turn around and say the book itself isn't all that great. In Liar's case, that is ABSOLUTE rubbish.

This book deserved all the attention it got. But not for the negative, issue-driven reaons. It deserved all the attention it got because it was AN AWESOME BOOK.

Now, I'll be totally honest, the whole unreliable narrator thing did make me really angsty at times (Hey, I'm a teenager. We're famous for angst, remember?). I was all like "If I don't work out the truth about what's going on here, then I am seriously just going to chuck this book at the wall!" Except I never did that.

Because...Wait for it...This book was awesome.

So I forgave it for annoying me, because it utterly and absolutely engrossed me. I suspended my disbelief and believed in weird family secrets. I suspended my disbelief, which is not something I can do when reading most stories. And it says something about Justine Larbalestier's skill that she managed to get me to do this, even when her protagonist was self-proclaimed compulsive liar.

Also: The writing was brilliant -- such a unique style. This was the kind of book you read as a writer and go, "If only I could do that with my prose!". And the characterisation was spot on.

And you know how in my original post I discussed how I wanted the gaps in fiction to be addressed? And that meant all minorities not just ethnic minorities? Well, um, Liar totally does just that. The main character is NOT attractive, the main character is teen of colour, the main character is possibly not even of the same species as most of you reading this blog are (I assume that someday, someone who thinks they're a vampire will stumble across this blog and read it, hence the "most").

And the other thing this book does absolutely brilliantly? It talks about a real teen of colour, living in a real, urban world, and does not treat race as the crux of the book. I brought up the fact, in my last post, that sometimes race HAS to be an issue (as with The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-time Indian), but in this case it didn't have to be, and it wasn't. Race played a less important role than good looks -- and this is hella true in my world, anway -- and was only mentioned maybe a few times.

In all, Liar is goddamn fantastic. Sure, at some points the unreliable narrator may have left me feeling a little hollow as a reader. But I can appreciate the absolute mastery it takes to create this sort of novel -- the skill it would take to keep all the lies spinning in the narrative without letting it collapse. And those moments where it left me feeling hollow were few and far between, which definitely attests to how good this book is.

Loved it. This is a book I know I'll be reading a couple of times just to try and absorb the author's amazing craft. And for readers, it's a cracking good story. Keeps you on your toes all the way through.

Teaser Tuesday!

2010-04-12T23:16:00.001-07:00

From The Gnome is Watching! Blog plans: Tomorrow there WILL be a review of Liar by Justine Larbalestier for Multicultural Review Month. On Friday: Squee-worthy news.

Keep tuned. Watch this space. All those other silly phrases that will make you read my blog posts.

And now, on to the Teaser. This explains WHY this manuscript is called The Gnome is Watching:

----

Amy and I used to play hide and seek in this park. Weeds tangle over grass and twiggy trees shoot up obscuring the very air. Perfect playground. It’d take hours to find Amy, and I’d inevitably lose other things in the process.

Lost: Sandals, butterfly clip, jacket.

Found: Amy. Sometimes.

Now I look at the weeds, and I wonder. I wonder whether, when she jumped off my roof and landed smack-bang in those curling, whispering weeds in my garden, she thought of this place.

The weeds we damn near lost ourselves in.

“Ella.”

Stares. Spotlight on me. I’m used to it from other people, but laser-eyes from Mark and Pet is weird.

“Right,” I croak.

Three steps and I veer off the footpath. Behind the oak tree. It’s where I stashed it – not drugs – I’m not Mark for God’s sake. The gnome.

I’m painfully aware of the leaves beneath my feet, now. Crunch. Crackle. Crunch. It feels as if I’m stepping over brittle bones, breaking them. I close my eyes and put my hand out. My fingertips catch the side of the tree. I trace them over the bark and follow them around the tree trunk, keeping my eyes closed.

Until the very last second, that is. I open them. Meet the gnome’s gaze.

Bile rises in my throat and I slide my hand over my stomach.

“Get the gnome already,” Mark calls.

He sounds abrasive, but I know he knows what happens to me when I look at the gnome. I shut down. Because the gnome saw Amy before she died, and I fucking didn’t.

She didn’t tell me her famous last words – and knowing Amy, they would have become famous, an urban legend. She didn’t let me see her spiral to the ground. Didn’t give me a chance to stop her.

But she landed in a patch of weeds, in front of my stupid fucking garden gnome. My garden gnome

I’m ridiculously jealous of it.

Review # 1: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

2010-04-09T01:22:00.003-07:00

Part of the deal with Multicultural Review Month April is that I read, review and discuss books featuring people of colour. I'm aiming to read and review at least ten (it was originally fifteen, but the crazy happenings of this month have left my head swimming so I'm cutting down to ten. More on those crazy happenings later this week...)

Anyway, the first book I've read and am reviewing is Sherman Alexie's Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian.

Blurb from the back of the book:

"Son," Mr P said, "you're going to find more and more hope the farther and farther you walk away from this sad, sad reservation."

So Junior, who is already beaten up regularly for being a skinny kid in glasses, goes to the rich white school miles away. Now he's a target there as well. How he survives all this is an absolute shining must-read and a triumph of the human spirit.

So the last part of the blurb would get absolutely ripped to pieces for showing, not telling in Query Letter Hell, but I decided to give it a go despite the big claims made on the back cover -- and those are hella big claims. Seriously, "Triumph of the human spirit"? -- since it had been recommended to be by the lovely choco of In Which a Girl Reads. She's kinda sorta my book soulmate.

My thoughts on this book?

It is a freaking triumph of the human spirit. No really, I adored this and I'm totally not surprised that it won the National Book Award.

There are a lot of things that make The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian the amazing read that it is.

First of all, there's the amazing literary style of the book -- it truly is incredible. Some of the lines just absolutely broke my heart, and others made me laugh. The style is what I like to call voice-y -- I could totally hear the main character, Junior, speaking -- but was also very literary and insightful. The nuances and layers mean that this book could be read and enjoyed by a twelve-year-old and read and enjoyed on a totally different level by an English major, in my opinion.

Something for everyone, in this writing.

Secondly, there's the amazing crazy-wonderful characterisation. So, sometimes when I write -- and of course, the fact that I write is going to come into reviews, haha -- I do this thing where half the characters in a story are incredibly fleshed out. The MCs. And everyone around them is...not fleshed out. I've noticed, when I read with a critical eye, that this is a trap that a lot of author's seem to fall into. Not Alexie. Each and every single character in Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian has a backstory -- the parents, the grandmother, the violent best friend -- and everyone's motivations become clear.

All of this is done in such a subtle manner, nothing about this book felt at all heavy-handed, and it was basically just wonderful and if you haven't already read it YOU MUST GO OUT AND READ IT. I'm not just saying this to be nice -- though I did just get a blog award for being nice recently, thanks Tahereh! -- it truly is a gorgeous book.

But I have to talk about the issues it brings up, too, because they're important and this book review month is about multiculturalism. As might be sugggested by the title, the Absolutey True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is about a young Indian boy who lives on a reservation (which he calls the "rez" -- I love little details like that, all those things that capture an amazing-wonderful voice), however he goes to school in a white town. Alexie is so skilful at exploring the issue of belonging and the title hammers home on that issue -- Junior, the protagonist, is left feeling like he's a part-timer in both worlds but doesn't belong in either.

The book not only brings up the issue of belonging, but issues of prejudice -- Junior initially has a tough time at school, from some because of the fact that he's an Indian -- but that issue really doesn't go beyond the general hazing that new kids face at a school. None of it's over the top, and I felt that it was a very realistic situation -- because racial targeting is usually restricted to a few dumbasses everywhere you go.

More importantly I felt attention was drawn to the idea that opportunities, and hope, aren't dangled like carrots in front of the kids on the reservation like they are in front of other kids. I thought this exploration of disadvantage versus privelege was really interesting, especially as it wasn't a cut-and-dried, black-and-white scenario painted as it can sometimes be easy to do.

Instead, the ups and downs of both worlds the protagonist comes to belong to are depicted. At the rich school, full of priveleged kids, there's sometimes this huge emotional disconnect between parents and children -- and there's this really moving passage where this is described. This is juxtaposed to amazing emotional effect with Indian tribal dances where the sense of spirit kind of just breaks your heat.

I'd like to address one last thing in this post before I stop, and that's somethingthat Raven -- hope ya don't mind the shout out -- mentioned in her comment to my last post. She talked about how she was aching for a change (paraphrasing her, here) and wanted to see a surge in multicultural books that deal with teens of colour as if they are just like teens who are not of colour. Getting over race and racial prejudices should not be the core issue of the book.

I'd like to say that I agree to an extent. I've read a ton of books set in suburbia where a kid's trying to get over purely racial issues, and I always think: Really? This wouldn't happen. It's not that big of a deal to be of a minority group, most people get along well and teenagers don't really mind making friends with those who are not of their own racial group. Or such has been my high school experience, anyway. Being of a different ethnicity won't make you an outcast, so conflicts like that always seemed contrived to me.

I think Raven's ABSOLUTELY right. I've always craved books that deal with people of other races where race is not the problem. Where race is treated like any other physical characteristic -- because really, that's what it is -- but where culture is still infused throughout. I've also always craved books about homosexual teens that don't make coming out of the closet an issue or the main issue. I've wanted those issues treated in an ordinary way for a long time.

I do feel, though, that while there do need to be books that treat being of a minority group as non-issue, there are SOME books where it absolutely has to be treated as a conflict. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is one of those. The issues were treated with finesse, and issues of family, the individual and belonging added layers of wow-awesome-amazingness to this book.

Basically, I loved this to pieces. Go, go, go read it!

Teaser Tuesday

2010-04-06T06:37:00.000-07:00

I have a review coming your way for Multicultural Review Month tomorrow, but I thought I'd celebrate the fact that I finished writing The Gnome is Watching (OMG! I FINISHED SOMETHING???? YAY!) by posting a little tease.

Hope you guys enjoy (It was so hard to pick something fairly recent that wasn't too spoilery). Also, this is kind of unedited, so if it totally sucks, my apologies.

----

*snipped*

Multicultural Review Month April Kickoff: Why Multicultural Books are Important

2010-04-01T00:45:00.000-07:00

I've titled this blogpost "Why Multicultural books are important" but I may as well have said "Why books featuring minorities are important" because, really, I think ALL minorities need to be represented in fiction, and at the moment they're all under represented.

Some people say that it's okay that there are hardly any books about teens of colour on the shelves. Some people say it's okay that whitewashing of book covers take place. And these people, whether they know it or not, are advocating the marginalisation of an entire group of people.

People say all these things under the guise of being practical. It's just logical, they shrug. 1) Teens of colour don't buy books, so why write books about them? 2) No one else wants to read books about teens of colour, so why write books about them? 3) When publisher's whitewash books, that's a-okay, because pretending a character is white will attract more readers.

This, readers, is not rationality. It's, simply put, the perpetuation of a disturbing notion that people of colour can be ignored in fiction. That it's okay to create a world where everyone is uniform. And it's not.

I think the argument that teens of colour don't read is ridiculous. Trust me, the teens of colour I know are really big readers. And yes, they will read books about anglo-saxon teens -- the argument that people CAN and WILL read books about those different to them works both ways, here -- but the number of times I've heard a kid go, "Omg, that book's about an asian kid!" and proceed to lift the book with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm leads me to believe that it isn't that teens of colour can't relate to characters of a different background to themselves. It's that they want to be able to also have a wide(r) selection of books that deal with people like them.

If only so that it doesn't feel like the only people who exist in this world are really good-looking Anglo-Saxon teens, a lot of whom happen to be supernatural beings (How about an asian vampire story? How about an African fallen angel?). And this is where what I was saying about minorities at the start of this post comes in. Because this book review month isn't only about multiculturalism, although that is it's primary focus. It's about the silences in today's fiction, the groups and sections of society that by-and-large get ignored in books. I'm talking about ethnic minorities, yes, but I'm also talking about LGBT folks. I'm talking about the poverty-stricken, and hell, even the ugly.

Any group that's been ignored by fiction.

And this is goddamn important, not only because if you're constantly ignored you begin to feel like, hey, maybe my existence isn't all that important after all. Maybe, in a perfect world -- the escapist world of fiction, for instance, that excludes me -- people like me wouldn't exist. It would make matters easier.

This is goddamn important because, on so many levels, we use reading as a parallel for life. We read, not only to immerse ourselves in a story, but to understand our world. Stories are our way of making sense of the world. Language is our only tool, however defunct it may be, to create meaning. So when someone writes a book about a minority, they create meaning about the existence of minorities.

And this is why books written about people of colour, and any minority group, have to be written. Because, yes, you can read about a character who shares your basic humanity -- it's still a parallel for life, you still take something away from it. It's just a more distant parallel.

But sometimes it's better to read a book about someone more like you, about a life that more accurately reflects yours. A closer parallel. The ideas you will imbibe are more applicable to your life.

I'm not saying that reading should be a didactic experience, but I do think it should be interactive, and I do think it should be about how we live. And I think fiction always is those two things.

It's all well and good for me to say that we need more books about minorities. But how this is, feasibly, going to happen also needs to be addressed. Look, no matter how much some would like it to be, it's not the fault of publishing companies or writers. If readers don't want to read about minorities, then what are they going to do? They need to eat, too.

I've already said I think the "there is no market" argument is shit. Because I know that there is one. I just think, that maybe sometimes, it isn't showing itself. That some of us, like me, advocate for these books and then don't go and read them, don't go and find them.

And we should. If you think, like me, that books about minority groups are a good thing, then you should actively seek them out. Because when more people start buying these books, publishers will be more willing to buy the manuscript of X writer that's been mouldering away in the desk drawer. Writers will be more willing to write books featuring minorities.

In this situation, it is the readers who must take upon themselves the burden to create change rather than the industry.

In this situation, wallets have far more impact than words.

So speak with your wallet.

Teaser Tuesday!

2010-03-30T00:55:00.000-07:00

From The Gnome is Watching. Hope you guys enjoy!

------

*snipped*

Teaser Tuesday...

2010-03-22T23:19:00.000-07:00

I seem to never post anything else on here. But never fear, April is near! And April means Multicultural Book Review Month. In which I will undertake to read at least fifteen, but probably twenty, books featuring characters of color (mostly protagonists) and attempt to assemble my thoughts into some form of coherence. At the start of April, I'm going to post a list of the books I'm reading -- if you want to make a recommendation, now is the time -- and then I'm going to get straight into it.

Also. Things that may be happening during Multicultural Book Review Month April: Contests, of some kind (I'm thinking book giveaway, and critique giveaways -- but I'm kinda unqualified to critique, but whatever). And I'm about to start trying to wrangle some author interviews from some of the people whose books I'll be reviewing. Long shot, but if you're an author of a YA book with multicultural themes and you'd like to be interviewed, get in touch! I'd love to have you :D

And now...On to the teaser, lol. From Skylar's Story:

*snipped*

Teaser

2010-03-16T02:35:00.000-07:00

Um, so you know how I said I'd finished revisions of Skylar's Story a while back? Well, I hadn't. Because I'm revising again based on agent feedback (again). And you know what? I'm really enjoying it. I didn't think revisions could be this great, but seriously, when I have direction and know I'm making my book better revising and editing is great. So I guess I've become one of those love-love-love editing kinda people.

Anyway, here's a little section I wrote into the manuscript yesterday:

*snipped*

Teaser...Wednesday?

2010-03-10T00:29:00.001-08:00

Late tease. I've had the most deadly exams for the past couple days. And am still having them, but I can't be bothered studying anymore. So. I'm revising my novel and continuing to write The Gnome is Watching, which is where this snip comes from. Hope you enjoy!

*snipped*

Teaser!

2010-03-01T22:23:00.000-08:00

*edit*

Teaser Tuesday!

2010-02-23T02:29:00.000-08:00

With no annoying notes from me this time (barring this one, lol):

snipped

Teaser :D

2010-02-15T23:12:00.000-08:00

I've kinda sorta finished those revisions I was doing on Skylar's Story. And I've shipped it off to yet another awesome person to beta ( Yay Amna! And a shout out to choco, bclement for taking a look at my MS too :D). So I'm pretty pleased with my productivity.

Anyway, apart from doing the usual tease today I'm going to talk about demotivation. I'm not an easily depressed writer. Query rejections just ping straight off my leathery skin. Partial rejections scratch me a little and, yeah, full rejections hurt (I've gotten a few now) but...That is no excuse for me to become demotivated. No excuse, I tell you.

When I first started querying (about a year ago on a really terrible version of MNID), I'd get a rejectio and my world would stop. I'd eat icecream -- because I'm a walking cliche -- and that would be about it. Now I try to see the positives in my rejections, try to keep upbeat and comfort myself with the thought that if this manuscript doesn't make it the next one might. And if that one doesn't, the one after will.

So...This probably sounds really strange and irrelevant to you guys, but I feel as if I've graduated a year level in writer school because...I now, finally, know how to handle rejection properly. This is a landmark moment for me...

And I can just about see people rolling their eyes. So I'mma get on with the teaser. Edgy, edgy, edgy/creepy scene from The Gnome is Watching (rough, because I'm currently writing this manuscript at weird times between 1 and 2am):

*snipped*

Teaser Tuesday

2010-02-09T00:26:00.000-08:00

So after getting some feedback on fulls for Skylar's Story, I'm doing revisions again. And I can't say I'm too fussed about that, because I've come to realise that I LOVE revising. Especially when I get to talk art and poetry, which in a lot of these revised scenes I did (yeah, I'm a typical artsy-fartsy writer teen. I can't help it, lol).

Hope you guys enjoy!

*edit*

Book Review: Hush Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick.

2010-02-06T17:09:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'm doing a book review. For the first time in forever. Mostly because I'm procrastinating -- I should be doing homework right now -- but also because a while back I said I'd do this review. And I'm a girl of my word.

So here I am.

So far all of my book reviews have been mighty positive -- I've wanted to share the awesome that is my favourite books with you guys. This book review is also going to be fairly positive. But I'm going to bring up some negatives, too, simply because I've seen rave reviews of this book literally everywhere and I don't exactly agree with all of the raving.

But onto the review itself -- I'm a writer, I really should have learned to show and not tell by now -- Hush, Hush is definitely a good book. In fact, I'd even say it's a great book. It's effortlessly written and the voice is spot on (I'd like to telepathically steal this voice from Ms. Fitzpatrick, actually) and the romance sizzles.

But for me, the romance, while sizzling, is where the book comes apart. I think this may have something to do with the fact that Patch looks very much (in my mind's eye at least) like someone I know and am not attracted to. So much of his allure was lost on me. But also. Patch is a stalker, an undeniably hot stalker, but a stalker nonetheless. He's scary and he's bad and the MC falls for him against all reason.

This is where I can practically hear you guys yelling, "But Ink, that's the whole point!". And I get that, I do. And I'm really not against stalkers in fiction, or MC's falling for someone against all reason. Except. This is being done a lot lately, these Twilight-esque relationships that seem to be fuelled by a sense of danger and nothing more. For a relationship to really, truly get to me it needs to be fuelled by something more than danger (and lethal doses of OMG-HE-IS-SO-HOT, while they get me halfway interested, doesn't quite do the job either).

I like characters who enjoy each other's personalities, who share common interests. Or, conversely, characters who are polar opposites. Give me an Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy style romance any day -- though even there, you can see intelligence and a cutting wit as common elements that would bind them together. I guess in Hush, Hush I didn't see those common interests between Patch and the MC and that was what took some of the fizzle and sizzle out of the romance for me.

In the end I just didn't love this book as much as I felt I should -- undoubtedly a lot of my lacklustre reaction is to do with the fact that I was told a hundred times over how great this would be. But the writing is great, the characterisation (of each of the characters as a single unit, not of the major relationship here) is well done, and the pacing is fast-fast-fast (this is Twilight on speed, guys. It is SO much more intense.). Overall I found this a really enjoyable read, even though it didn't quite resonate with me like it did with a lot of people.

If I had to rate this out of ten? 7.5 (That's right, I rate books now. I haven't bothered in the past because almost everything I've talked about has been 10/10 material).

Now, just to throw something un-review related but blog related out there but: I'm thinking of doing something like choco's Classics Week. Except over a month and with Multicultural books, because I don't think those books get enough exposure at the moment (and of course, doing reviews on this tiny blog is going to solve that problem. Well, not really. But it'll make me feel like I'm doing something). Anyway, I'd like to keep the books mostly YA, and I'd love it if you guys could throw some suggestions my way -- because sadly enough I don't think I know of enough books featuring people of colour to do this.

Teaser.

2010-02-01T22:07:00.000-08:00

I'm going to pretend to be totally unashamed of the fact that I did absolutely nothing on the blog in between teasers...But, just so you know, I'm totally hanging my head in shame. Lol.

Here's the tease. From The Gnome is Watching:

People don’t need the bridge anymore, because if you wander two hundred meters downstream you can just walk across the river. Sure, it’ll slosh around your ankles a little, but it's the quickest way to get to the other side. Not that there’s much on the other side of town now, except abandoned houses.

An empty small town, haunted by ghosts and local children who go there to throw sticks and stones at each other. To break each other’s bones with their cruel words. No adults, no limits. It’s the secret school motto of every kid in this town.

We approach the bridge and as we get closer I can see the rust flowering over it. Dust motes float in sunlight across metal beams that look less stable than rotted wood. Just walking over this thing would be a risk. Jumping from it would take a lot of guts.

Unless, like E, you were blindfolded and didn’t know where you were going. Unless you didn’t know you were going to lose yourself in the waters between ghost town and small town. Unless it was a part of some crazy initiation into the Skull and Bones club of Sherwood High.

Closer and closer. The air seems to buzz.

Part of it is that this place is overdosing on lavender, and bees like lavender, and bees buzz.

Part of it is that E doesn’t have to ask, “Are we there yet?” because Mark’s stopped his army style chant.

E's breathing catches and his gunpowder scent intensifies. As if his blood and guts smell of gunpowder and when he sweats it just leaks out his pores.

I crunch the last twig, step over the last clump of grass and onto the rusty bridge. Seesaw screech. Even though the bridge isn’t moving I can hear it, feel it swaying beneath my feet.

And the sensation of my soul dropping, falling into the pit of my stomach and then through my feet, makes me whoop.

On the edge of the bridge, E laughs. “Oh,” he says as he steps onto the bridge and creaks and crackles along. “I know where this is.”

None of us answer him, we just step along the bridge. Normal people would tiptoe, afraid of sending the bridge crashing into the river. I notice that while Mark and Pet both move lightly, on the balls of their feet.

I stride. I thunder like an elephant. Rust flakes away into the rushing white water.

“So what’re you going to push me off the bridge? That’s really not that creati –“

Mark grabs the back of E's jacket, lifts him a little and shoves him over the railing – which is way too low for safety standards. I watch him fall, watch the red hair blow up from his face, the black jacket buffeted by the wind. And that’s when I realise that the blindfold might not have been such a good idea, no matter how pretty and pink it is.

Because if half his nose is covered, and he can’t see – well, for me it would just mean a greater rush. But I’m in the habit of throwing myself off things. He’s not. Fuck.

He hits the water with a splash. A belly flop into the rapids.

Late Teaser :)

2010-01-26T20:28:00.000-08:00

So I've been a little too busy to post this Teaser (and by busy I don't mean extraordinarily busy or anything. Just shopping and whatever else) so I'm putting it up now.

From The Gnome is Watching. Hope you guys enjoy!

*snipped*

I am so tired...

2010-01-25T02:59:00.001-08:00

Of defending YA.

To everyone out there who writes adult fiction: It is not cool to be condescending to people who write YA, or any children's fiction for that matter. It is not cool to suggest that YA books are all superficial, glossy reads when you've never looked beyond Harry Potter (and seriously, this book has some of the most amazing plotting and characters. Don't bash it)Twilight and Eragon.

I have been reading some disturbing things about the way people perceive my favourite genre (okay, I have in the past admitted to reading more lit fic than YA. But YA is STILL my favourite genre) on the web lately. People who believe YA books are immature. People who believe there's no room for edgy content in YA, because YA is all about sending a "message" to the "children" and I'm fed up. So I'm making this post into the politest rant I can manage.

To the Angry Parents who believe YA is corrupting their children: Whatever messages/morals you want your children to be taught, teach it to them. A lot of books aimed at teenagers are going to SHOW teens the world they live in, not sugarcoat things and offer formulaic stories with barely hidden preachiness. And, to be frank, the fact that a teen doesn't read a book about drug abuse is NOT going to shield them from knowing other kids who do drugs in real life. Same goes with sex. Same goes with swearing.

Kids do this shit. Writers write about it, and in my opinion, saying kids can't read edgy content is like saying no adult fiction (or YA) should ever deal with issues of sexism, or racism. Because if we pretend these things don't exist in fiction, they'll just magically disappear.

Newsflash: Issues don't go away because people don't write about them.

And the next person who tells me that YA dealing with anorexia is bad because teenagers aren't mature enough to handle it is going to get whacked. Real hard.

But I'm getting off topic here. I was, initially, talking about writers who believe children's fiction is inferior to adult fiction. In case I'm not making myself clear: that is simply not true. If you honestly think that you just need to read more YA. Some of the most amazing books I've read lately have been YA. And that's the beautiful thing about this genre. It's so broad. There is SO much variety that there's something for everyone: YA urban fantasy, YA fantasy, contemporary YA, literary YA. There are fluffy, girly-type books and there are boy books (though I'll admit there are not nearly enough of this latter type). And I guess that's what upsets me most about people pigeonholing YA (and MG too, really)...It's not a genre that should be pigeonholed, because there's SO MUCH you can do with it.

For everyone out there who writes adult fic and truly believes there are no good YA books, I don't really have anything to persuade you with. But I do recommend that you give YA a try. Read more in this genre and THEN pass your judgements (if you still think YA is a waste, I'm happy to debate with you on the merits of various YA books and listen to your side of the argument.) Just don't be ignorant, because ignorance does you no favours -- you look silly when you make sweeping statements about a genre. You look tactless.

And if you need a starting point, here are my recs:
For great world building and awesome fantasy: Anything by Tamora Pierce, The Haunting of Alaizabel Cray by Chris Wooding
For amazing lyrical writing: How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff, Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta, and The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.
For a book that will keep you turning the pages past midnight: Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
For a book that doesn't shy away from an unlikeable protag: Cracked Up to Be by Courtney Summers
For Edgy YA: Anything by Gail Giles.
For a voice that will blow your mind: Anything by John Green.

I'm aware that the majority of people who read this blog are YA writers. So I'm probably not reaching many people here. But I'm just so fed up. And now when people make comments I disagree with, I'll have a place to direct them instead of not being able to articulate anything because I'm that annoyed.

If you made it all the way through this attempt-polite rant of mine, kudos.

I've been MIA, but now I'm IA

2010-01-22T23:07:00.000-08:00

So the title of this blog post really says it all: I've been Missing In Action, but now I'm In Action, so I thought I'd do a blog post to celebrate this simple fact: I am donedonedone with tests and school until next week (Yes, my break is sooo long, isn't it?) which means I can focus on my writing and reading for a little while. I've got a couple of good books on the TBR pile -- Eon by Alison Goodman and Love Aubrey.

Also, querying hasn't been too demoralising. Because while I've been getting a lot of form rejects, I've also been getting some requests. Five fulls (including the one requested from the SA contest over at Miss Snark's First Victim. If you don't know what that is, google it and check it out. It's awesome) and four partials so far, for those interested in stats. Whenever my fingers aren't crossed I'm chewing my nails in anticipation of responses -- rejections or otherwise.

Oh, and since I missed Teaser Tuesday, I thought I'd post a little snip from my SNI WIP which is very, very rough, but here it is:

We wandered over to the gnome. Mark’s short breaths snapping the peaceful silence. I closed my fingers around the tip of the blue hat and raised the gnome until I stared into its merry black eyes. Amy died in front of those eyes. I wanted to feel them on me, as I was free falling. I wanted to feel those black eyes drilling cigarette burns in my ragged white t-shirt, in my jeans, in my heart.

I wanted those eyes to dissect me like I did my Barbies. Tear out my secrets and splatter them across the hay.

Mark’s breathing rose and fell, crescendo and decrescendo crashing over me.
And suddenly I knew what I had to do.

I ran up the stairs and spread my arms. My giddy laughter mixed with Mark’s as I shouted, “To infinity and beyond!”

I jumped.

The air rushed beneath me, around me, above me. My heart dropped into my feet and my pulse beat so hard against my skin that I thought bruises would flower. Mark had sped through the air like a bullet, but when I fell, time slowed to a crawl.

I knew the hay was below me, the stairs above. I knew it was Mark’s whoop that rushed into my ears along with the roaring whistle of the air. I knew it was my feet kicking in the air, but I couldn’t really feel any of it.

I expected to see my life flash before my eyes, but I didn’t. I just saw Amy, her fingers knotted through mine in the dim lights of the party. Her other hand wrapped around a plastic cup. She was jumping up and down to the wild music, its beat eerily similar to that of my heart. Beer sloshed over our twined fingers and the spell broke.

I thudded into the hay and closed my eyes, trying to hold onto the last image of Amy’s smile. Her pink curved lips and the black lashes curving against her cheek.
And then the pain of the memory was gone. Driven out by the new pain that burned through my limbs like fire. I clambered to my feet and sharp spikes tore through my arms and legs.

Mark was there, then. Helping me up. We watched the gnome and the gnome watched us and we watched each other. And we whooped and whooped and whooped and I knew that I’d play Russian Roulette in a heartbeat, now.

Because that image of Amy? That was real. I just know that it happened at the party that night. And I needed to know what happened. I needed to remember.

Character Songs

2010-01-16T00:13:00.000-08:00

So for the new book I'm working on -- the one I teased the first line of -- I've been finding that certain characters are represented by certain songs. And listening to those songs is really helping me to write about these characters.

Ella, my protagonist's song is actually quite an embarassing one: Church of Hot Addiction by Cobra Starship. It's the sort of thing you associate with Chuck Bass of Gossip Girl (Hey, have you heard of my religion/It's called the Church of Hot Addiction/We believe that God has lust for everything), and while Ella isn't a sleazy guy she's certainly fond of playing cat-and-mouse games with people, like Chuck. And she does have a certain taste for seduction.

Ella's love interest -- who doesn't actually have a name at the moment beyond Explosive Boy (you tell me, guys, what's an explosive name? Person who suggests the best one wins a cookie, lol) -- is a bit more complicated. He comes across as super brazen and, well, explosive (he smells of gunpowder, really, that tells you everything you need to know about this kid) but he's actually a teddy bear (albeit, a teddy bear with a really sharp butcher's knife or something to make it less cute. Teddy bear with fangs? Vampy bear?) Anyway. His song is Death Cab For Cutie's I Will Possess Your Heart. Which surprisingly has more to do with him owning himself than falling in love with Ella (not much lovey-dovey stuff in this book).

Then there's Petal (Pet) who's a girl close to my heart. Mostly because I went through a phase of calling everyone I liked Petal (I also went through a phase of calling everyone I liked sugar-plum-fairy...) so it would stand to reason that she'd be likeable. But she isn't. She's the opposite of likeable. She's like...likeable kryptonite. Her song? Shut Me Up by Mindless Self Indulgence (I'd give a sample of the lyrics, but they're a bit rude and there're enough f-bombs in my novels. Don't have to pollute my blog with them).

Last, but not least, is Mark. Mark's incredibly cute, a charming stoner and he's the boyfriend of dead-girl Amy. He and Ella are the ones providing the push behind Pick Me Ups, the screwed up life-and-death changing games that they thought up to try and experience what Amy did (this involves crazy, disturbing shit like human dartboards -- yeah, I said this was edgy). Mark's song? Lips Like Morphine by Kill Hannah.

Sooooo...The point of this post is not really. Well, there isn't really a point to it. Just thought I'd let you guys know and see if any of you have character theme songs that you play when you're writing an awesome scene with said character. If so, share them in the comments. And remember to suggest dangerous names for Explosive Boy!

Okay...I'mma stop procrastinating and get back to my studying.

The most Teaser-y Teaser ever.

2010-01-11T22:24:00.000-08:00

Yeah, guys. This is the Teaser that probably shouldn't even count as a teaser because it's so short and ridiculous. But I'm excited about my Shiny New Idea, THE GNOME IS WATCHING (I jumped genre again. This one is, without a shadow of a doubt, edgy YA), and I really wanted to share something from it and...I feel cruel. So I'm giving you the first line and the first line only -- and it's not even a mindblowing first line and will probably change. But still.

Ready for it? Ready?

Okay, here goes:

The new kid smells of gunpowder.

Yeah, that's my cop out teaser for the week. I'm going to say that I'm doing this in the name of discussing first lines -- post your thoughts about what makes a good one in the comments, along with your thoughts on my teaser-y teaser of course.

Teaser Tuesday

2010-01-04T22:23:00.000-08:00

This week's teaser was fun for me to write. Mostly because I love castles and us twifties have been talking about an awesome plan to buy our own. Anyway, this is what the city in PIPER'S REALM looks like (yeah, I changed the title from just plain PIPER. Yay!).

Here goes the teaser:

*snip*

Raw(r) writes

2010-01-04T02:13:00.000-08:00

The lovely Tilt started up what I believe is going to be the next blogging phenomenon. Raw(r) writes are free writes, basically, where you just write for ten minutes about something you'd like to share with the world, some feeling, some message.

I sat down tonight and I wrote for ten minutes and I still have no idea what this is really about (I don't even know who it's about, I mean I have some ideas, but I just sort of started writing and this poured out. It disturbs me.), but by god it's emo. I'm sharing, but please don't feel obliged to read and I'll probably take this down in a little while. It feels too personal to keep up for too long.

*snipped*

No Kissing Day!

2010-01-02T17:58:00.000-08:00

So I found this pretty exciting, just because anti-kisses don't get nearly as much attention as they deserve. And then I went through PIPER and found out that there weren't any almost-kisses. SKYLAR'S STORY has a few, but I've decided to stop teasing stuff from SS because there's so little of it to begin with (45k novel, guys).

So I thought I'd post the only thing I think may count as an almost-kiss in PIPER. It's probably a bit different to other almost-kisses where people actually, you know, get really close and almost-kiss each other. This is a bit different. Read on to find out how and tell me if you think it's an almost-kiss at the end.

*snipped*

So it's an almost-kiss because their shadows kiss and they don't. But, what do you guys think? Does it count? I'm not really sure myself.

I've got some resolutions to smash

2010-01-01T00:16:00.000-08:00

To be honest, I don't know why I make resolutions with every passing year. I just wind up breaking them. But there's something so dreamy and hopeful about a promise that you make to yourself. So I thought I'd make some pretty farfetched ones to kick off 2010.

My resolutions:

1. Keep on querying, learn how to keep up morale during the process, sign with an awesome agent (farfetched resolution number one).

2. Write every day (farfetched resolution number two)

3. Stop getting fits of self doubt (yeah, farfetched again).

4. Stop pretending/procrastinating to write and pay more attention to my friends. Never, ever use the excuse, "But the people in my head are more interesting" again. (I'll do it again. I just know it)

5. Read at least one book a week. Stop pretending that I read only YA books when I msotly read classics/literature, fess up, and start reading some good YA :D (I WILL do this one)

6. Tell my family I love them more often (yeah, I can achieve this one too).

7. Have the best year of my life and then top that next year.

Personally, I will always remember 2009 as the year of realising that I was indeed a writer not just someone who put pen to paper/fingers to keyboard on occasion. The year of realising querying is goddamn hard and I can't do it properly without stressing. The year of realising that my writing style wasn't as "plain" as I was trying to make it be. The year of discovering AW!

On a non-writing note it was the year of closer friendships and Team Edward vs Team Jacob vs Team Nothing. It was the year I got bitten by wanderlust and a strange need to complicate life for myself through thinking too much and being too philosophical (Do robots have minds??? Do we? What the hell is a soul? Do we even have them?)

What was 2009 about for you? What books did you read and what things did you realise? And what resolutions have you made for the new year, writing or otherwise.

Teaser Tuesday

2009-12-28T05:05:00.000-08:00

So it's just past midnight and I'm posting another teaser. I'm a bit ashamed over the fact that I haven't posted anything in between teasers. But I promise to do a review or something next week and be a good blogger. Also, if you're trying to imagine this scene imagine MGMT videos, but more psychedelic :D

From my WIP, PIPER (and this is a rough draft, so I apologise for killing anyone's eyes in advance):

*snipped*

Apparently it's Official Kissing Day...it's also Teaser Tuesday for me :D

2009-12-22T00:19:00.000-08:00

I've already posted one of the three kisses in SKYLAR'S STORY. The first one I posted -- where she kisses him while he's wearing high heels -- is my favourite, but this one is runner up. It takes a while to get to the kiss, but with me, the build up is more important than the actual event. So, read on for a very confused and awkward kiss.

*snipped*

On censoring yourself

2009-12-20T23:13:00.000-08:00

I was having someone read through a couple of chapters of the polished, shiny version of Skylar's Story before I send it off to betas (sort of like a beta beta read, lol). Amongst a whole lot of valuable commentary I got the comment that one of my lines might wind up being used as a guide for an imbalanced kid to commit suicide.

Woah. What.

I never wrote this book intending to be edgy, so I was shocked that someone would balk at content (especially in the first couple of chapters, it's really quite tame, imo). I considered the comment and considered it and considered it.

In the end I decided that changing it would essentially just be me censoring myself. The line isn't a terrible one. Honestly, it's information that's freely available everywhere. I mean, when I was fourteen my friends used to bandy it about all the time. All. The. Time.

Teens know this stuff. Balanced and imbalanced alike, and if they can handle it in the real world, they can handle it in books.

I aim to write books that are realistic (when they're contemporary, my fantasy is obviously another story) and, in my opinion, I'm being realistic. Sure, if more and more people tell me it's going to send some poor kid off the rails I'll axe it.

If not, it'll stay because I don't want to censor myself or my characters. And now I'm wondering whether other people feel the same way, or whether you guys think a little bit of curtailing yourself is okay?

And I'm not writing books about how to commit suicide, regardless of what this post may sound like. I'm really, really not.

Teeeaser Tuesday

2009-12-15T00:04:00.000-08:00

So I'm posting a snippet from my new WIP, which is called PIPER at the moment -- because it's an urban fantasy/dystopian about the Pied Piper (I don't like the title, anyone got any suggestions?). I'm writing this story because it's been in my head FOR YEARS. Seriously, like years and I've always thought: "No, I'm not good enough for that idea."

Does anyone else do that? Put an idea on hold for when you're a better writer and you can do it justice?

Or is it just me?

Anyway, after I finished Skylar's Story (I'm doing line edits! Woot!) I decided that nothing good ever comes from holding back and trying to stay within your comfort zone. Some of the best parts of that novel are the places where I decided to just be totally honest about who my characters were. Some of the best parts deal with things I thought I wasn't mature enough to handle well, or talented enough to pull off.

So now I've decided that if an idea comes to me, and I like it, I'm going to roll with it. Regardless of whether it seems like I can pull it off or not at this stage of my writing career.

Because if I don't try, I won't know. And nothing's worse than not knowing.

Okay, and now for the teaser. You have to know that there are two Rileys in this scene. One is seventeen and he's the one who talks in italics. The other's ten and he's the one who's fighting with The Witch. My MC, Wendy, is invisible here, which is why she has a bit of an observer's voice.

Hope you guys enjoy, and I apologise for the first draftiness here.

*snipped*

Genre-hopping and a Teaser

2009-12-08T01:11:00.000-08:00

So I've decided to make teasers a regular blog feature. But they don't come on their own, unfortunately you have to listen to me rambly (hence the blog title) before I actually tease. Today's topic for my ramblings: genre-hopping.

I genre-hop a lot. Like, a lot. I thought I was a fantasy writer, I really did -- urban fantasy, epic fantasy, and YA fantasy was what I wrote. And then I went and wrote Skylar's Story which is about as commercial YA-ish as you can get. There is no magic, except for the magic of beauty and relationships, which puts it pretty firmly in the realm of, well, not fantasy.

Worse, my SNI is a dystopian urban fantasy -- is that even a genre?

My point is: I genre-hop and I was wondering whether anyone else was this indecisive? Sigh. At least it's all YA...so far.

And now I'll shut up and tease. From SKYLAR'S STORY because I still haven't written anything new. This scene is inspired by the amazing song Speeding Cars by Imogen Heap. I seriously love, love, love her music.

Okay, now I really will shut up and tease:

*snipped*

Looking For Alibrandi

2009-12-06T02:04:00.000-08:00

So I tried to do this post about why Melina Marchetta's Looking For Alibrandi amazes me and will always be my favourite book of hers yesterday. And blogger deleted it, somehow (or maybe I did, I'm no tech whiz). Anyway, since it's a Saturday night and I've just finished watching Glee and having a long and relaxing mobile phone conversation, I feel warm and fuzzy and up to trying to be articulate. Again.

Deep breath.

Most of you guys in the US discovered Melina Marchetta either through her sophomore novel, Saving Francesca or through her Printz Award winning novel On the Jellicoe Road (I'm pretty sure it's just Jellicoe Road for you, though, right?). Not so for me. I was in year five when I stumbled upon Looking for Alibrandi in our school library. It was on a reading list and it looked interesting and I thought, "Why not?"

Best decision. Ever.

I'm not sure whether it was the space I was in when I read the book -- Year five, you know. Spazzing out about what big, bad high school's going to be like in two years' time (we officially start high school in Year Seven. There is no such thing as middle school). Looking For Alibrandi gave me an insight into a world I was soon to enter and it was a magical, stressful, amazingly real insight.

The characters were so brilliant that years and years after I've read the novel I can remember specific scenes from it. Like how John Barton and Josephine Alibrandi met at a boring year nine debate. Like how in the scene where Josie and Jacob are about to have sex there's this motorcycle poster on the wall that makes her change her mind. Like how Jacob lives in Redfern Like how they wag school and head to the beach. Like how Josie names her arch-enemy Poison Ivy and how Mama's silent when she sleeps and Michael snores.

The book was gorgeous. Coming of age theme? Tick. Family tension? Tick. Great writing. Tick. Set at one of those posh Sydney schools I can totally relate to? Tick. Questioning and exploring issues of race and multiculturalism in Australia? Tick. Dark moments effortlessly interwoven with light moments? Tick. Compelling story? Tick.

I love all of Melina Marchetta's books, but it's her debut that will stick with me forever. It's her debut that blew me out of the water when I was just ten years old. This is the first YA book I read and adored. The book that began my obsession with this genre, and yes it's probably a little bit less shiny-polished, a little less literary than say, On the Jellicoe Road. But there's a certain passion that comes with a debut that gets lost with subsequent novels. As Josie says of Jacob, "We had lost that passion after winning our first few debates." -- I think it's the same with books, the passion gets lost.

And that, combined with the space I was in when I read Looking for Alibrandi is what makes it my favourite Melina Marchetta novel. Read it. Now.

Teaser Tuesday!

2009-11-30T18:02:00.000-08:00

Woot, I actually managed to do a teaser on the right day. This one's also from Skylar's Story which is currently being edited to death. Oh, and speaking of death I got my first feedback on material I had out for MY NAME IS DEATH. Not a rejection, not an acceptance, a rewrite request. Looks like there's more work to be done.

Anyway, teaser time:

Snipped

NaNoWriMo Teaser

2009-11-21T14:41:00.000-08:00

First of all, some good news: My Name is Death won (runner-up, actually) the first page contest over at Miss Snark's First Victim! Which means I got to submit my first thirty pages to Laura Bradford, November's Secret Agent.

This involved me using International Mail for the second time -- I think I've got it down now -- and freaking out a lot. No bad news as of yet, but no good news either.

In the meantime, I'm continuing my great NaNoWriMo efforts. With exams that actually count towards my final marks for school starting next Friday, I'm thinking that I won't quite get to the 50k words mark. Even though I'm already at 40k. This is largely because Skylar's Story: Heaven on Earth (the name of my NaNo novel as of now) is a pretty short contemporary YA novel. The draft should be finished today at around 45k. And, to celebrate me coming to the close of my slightly shitty (more than slightly, actually) draft, I'm going to post a teaser here.

That's right, it's Teaser Sunday -- or Saturday, I suppose if you're in a different timezone to me. Which is pretty much everyone, actually. Teaser time:

*snip*

How to Ditch Your Fairy, my first review

2009-10-30T04:44:00.001-07:00

The back blurb of How to Ditch Your Fairy reads: "Welcome to New Avalon where everyone has a personal fairy. Invisible to the naked eye, a personal fairy is vital to success -- but for Charlie, having a parking fairy is worse than having nothing at all, especially since she's not old enough to drive."

Going by that description alone, I wasn't sure I was going to like this book. But then I read the short excerpt also located on the back cover, and I knew that I'd love this book. It didn't disappoint, either. The characters were well-crafted and the plot compelling.

I think what really surprised me, though, was the world building in this novel. As is mentioned in the blurb, the story takes place in New Avalon, a place of the author's invention. However, while there were elements of New Avalon that were completely foreign, Justine Larbalestier's talent, here, is grounding the book through making aspects of New Avalon society incredibly familiar. Yes, in New Avalon they call breasts "spoffs" and use the word "pulchritudinous" when describing someone of extreme beauty, but they also have cars. They also have high-school teachers and parents with eyes in the backs of their heads and neighbourhoods that seem totally average.

This book was a joy to read in that I found myself discovering a new world, while still very much staying within the comfort of my own. I've already mentioned that I didn't find much lacking in terms of characters, though I must say at some points the love interest, Steffi, irritated me, as did the protagonist. They weren't badly characterised, I personally, just did not relate to them. For me, the most relatable character was Fiorenze, who was the antagonist for a portion of the book at least.

Also, I felt the pace of How to Ditch Your Fairy could be slow at times -- though overall, it was pretty fast and had a strong narrative drive. There were just patches where I found my interest waning ever-so-slightly.

Anyway, since this my first 'review' I'm going to give this book a rating out of 5...and it is...drumroll...4/5. I can't wait to read Liar by Justine Larbalestier, now.

On a bit of a tangent: Are there any other good literary YA books you can recommend me? I'm heading in that direction with my WIP, so I'd like to read some great examples to get me inspired. I'm already planning to read all Melina Marchetta's books -- expect a blog post from me on why Looking for Alibrandi, her very first novel, is the one I'll always love the most, sometime soon -- but I'd like more recs for literary and 'edgy' YA.

Vee

Back to Writing...

2009-07-16T21:57:00.000-07:00

I've almost finished the rewrite of The Outlook is Bleak, which has changed title to My Name is Death!

Of course, I still have a way to go with editing and sending to beta-readers etc, but just getting close to the end is thrilling. So many things have changed in this version -- not least me deciding to keep the MC alive and well -- it's really quite shocking. The book also expanded by about 10k, though I think this is more due to additional subplots than me padding my writing. But still. It's cause for concern

The Truth About Forever...

2009-05-16T20:44:00.000-07:00

The Truth About Forever follows Macy Queen as she deals with her father's death. So far, she's been using her steady boring-as-hell boyfriend, Jason, as a crutch to deal with her pain, but when he disappears to "brain-camp" Macy is left on her own. However, she soon finds herself a job with an eclectic team of caterers, the Wish crew. Wish seems to breathe life into Macy's world, and she finds herself contrasting her safe, boring old life with this new, exciting one. And then there's Wes, who, to quote Juno, is the cheese to Macy's macoroni.

It's a wonderful book. It's the sort of book that manages to combine simple, easy-to-read writing with an awesome plot and characters you fall in love with. Basically, in my humble opinion, this as close to perfect as a YA book can get.

I think almost everyone will have heard someone or other rave about what a good writer Sarah Dessen is, and it's absolutely true, but I don't want to repeat all of that stuff again. Instead, I'll focus on the one aspect of her writing -- the one aspect of any writing, actually -- that resonates with me the most: characters. And they are, truly, amazing in The Truth About Forever.

Every single character in this book had a personality, even the ones who weren't central to the story. They all had their quirks and vices, they all had a certain way of walking, they all had depth and felt like real people. Not only is Dessen the master of using obscure details to build up her characters she also gives each and every single one of her characters an interesting backstory. Macy, for instance, with her father's death and Wes -- well, I would say, but I don't want to spoil it for people who haven't read the book. Suffice to say, his story was good.

And, on Wes, because I think, as one of the most well developed love interests ever, he deserves his own paragraph. As I said before, Wes is the cheese to Macy's macoroni, but their relationship is SO well developed. Wes is the guy who makes every girl swoon, but Macy doesn't like him just for his looks. They really get to know each other and that's something I rarely see in YA books. The girl so often falls for the guy because of his looks, and the guy falls for the girl because of her...plainness? (cough, Twilight, cough).

So, my conclusion? I would rate this book 5/5, 100%, whatever. Just go out, buy it and read it. It's lovely.

If you have already read it, what are your thoughts?

Books I LOVE

2009-04-25T21:09:00.000-07:00

I don't have much to post on the writing front, so I thought I'd make my next couple of posts about books that I love. Now, as a reader, I'm fairly easy to please, I find most books pleasurable and all books readable (I'm not one of those kids who chucked Breaking Dawn at a wall, though I was sorely tempted), however there are very few books that I truly love.

These are the books that keep me up reading until midnight -- and not just the first time I read the book, but the second and the third as well. My list of books that are absolute must reads are mostly a mix of classics and YA and children's books, though there are some sci-fi and fantasy books in there.

The first one I'm going to talk about is Meg Rosoff's Just In Case, which follows David Case, a boy so paranoid that Fate is out to get him that he sets out to create a new persona for himself. David -- newly named Justin -- changes his clothes, makes friends with an odd girl and gets himself an imaginary pets. But even incognito, will Justin be able to hide from Fate? And is Fate really out to get him?

Just In Case is a brilliant novel with a fascinating MC, who kept me hooked all the way through. Rosoff's style is reminiscent of J.D Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye -- another one of my all time favourites -- but this is written in the third person.

There are a lot of reasons why this novel enthralled me. First off, David Case, the MC, who changes his name to Justin, was so goddamn interesting and believable. The secondary characters, in particular Agnes -- the girl who helps him develop his new persona -- were also brilliant. There were so many layers to the characters and they were original. And that's very special, because in YA, a lot of characters get recycled all the time -- the hot guys, the cheerleaders, the geeky guys, the nerdy girls -- almost everyone can be stereotyped. Rosoff's characters cannot.

Apart from the characters, Meg Rosoff just writes insanely well. The story hooks you over and over and over. The words are carefully picked to evoke certain feelings, the dialogue natural and the plot clear, though nuanced. I could pick no fault with the writing, and as a nitpicky writer who has trouble turning off her inner editor...Well, let's just say that doesn't happen often.

Since reading Just In Case, I've read Rosoff's other books, her debut How I Live Now and another novel, What I Was, both of which are really great books. But it's Just In Case that made the biggest impression on me, that I won't forget. As proof of how memorable this book is, I read it six months ago and I still think of the characters sometimes. Really, it's that good.

Some other books coming up on my loved list: Pride and Prejudice, The Truth About Forever, The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Book Thief and Anne of Green Gables. The great thing about this list of books I love is that it will always be expanding as I discover new, brilliant authors and their brilliant books.

What about you guys? Do you have any books you absolutely adore?

Of Writing...

2009-04-19T02:09:00.000-07:00

It's been long time, no blog from me. This is partially because I have another blog and partially because I've been so busy that I've barely had time for anything other than procrastination.

Today I'm back to blogging. I don't have much to say other than that I've been tentatively querying my project and have met with some success -- request for a full and a couple of requests for partials -- and some rejections. Read: form rejection letters.

About a week ago, I got a rejection on my full manuscript that made me grin and grin and grin. I think my parents thought I was insane, or something. Yes, it was a rejection, but it was a two-page rejection letter spelling out everything about my novel that needed improving. I read it and my imagination took off. Over the past week, my book has been re-imagined and restructured and, while it is, essentially, the same book, it's had new life breathed into it. So I'm holding off on querying for a while and doing another round of revisions, because I want my ms to be as strong as it can be. After all, I might as well do something other than twiddle my thumbs while I wait for responses to my partials.

In other news, I officially had my first page critted over at Editorial Anonymous' evil first pages clinic. In the time I've waited for a response, I've revised my first page countless times and it was nice to see that other people agreed with the changes I made -- the things they disliked were the things I altered during revisions. Anyway, I thought the feedback was invaluable so I encourage any aspiring writers to submit their first pages :)

Off to thank EA for the crit, if anyone's curious about my first page it's the one titled The Outlook is Bleak. I think I'll try to blog more regularly from now on.

My time at HarperCollins

2009-01-24T21:15:00.000-08:00

My time at HarperCollins was super-fun. I got to do a lot of exciting stuff, like do proofs on one of their August release books (which made me feel like I was actually contributing to something), go to their launch meeting where I heard about all the new authors and write advertising material for one of their new books.

Plus I got a heap of free books. About ten or eleven, I think. None of them are YA, which is my first love, but still, free books! You can't say no to that :)

Anyway, what I was intending to say in this post was: If you have an editor, they love you. Seriously editors do so much hard work, (I spent most of my time at HC in the editorial department helping out with various things) they hardly ever take lunch breaks and they take their work home with them on weekends.

They're so dedicated to their authors. Seeing their detailed little notes on the sides of pages and hearing them talk with such pride about their authors made that very, very clear to me. AND, they're all super nice people to just talk to.

So yes, guys, your editors love you. And I will be SO happy if one day I get to work with an editor as awesome as the ones I met last week :)

Ramblings of a Writer

Some Thoughts on Present Tense

Reading You Under the Table

The Internet: Good, Bad or Ugly

Teaser Tuesday

Guest Post...

Teaser Tuesday

Your Characters Should Exist in Time

Teaser Tuesday!

You Are Not Always Right

Goodbye, Childhood aka the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Post

I can haz title?

YA, Responsibility, Consequences

Coming Out of the Writer Closet...

Crits for Water

What Makes for a Strong Heroine?

Mix and Match Couples

Editorial Letter

Announcement!

The Wet Mop

My Life as of Now...

Interrupting my Hiatus to say...

Teaser!

Banned Books

The Whole Boy Books Thing...

Review: The Piper's Son, by Melina Marchetta

They Only Ban the Good Books, the Important Books.

Teaser Tuesday

Is The Author Really Dead? The Way We Review Books

Some Thoughts on Mockingjay *SPOILERS*

Five iron-clad rules about writing for teenagers

Teaser!

Winners and Query Stories (funny, not angsty, I swear)

More Teasing

Tease!

100 Followers Contest

Short Teaser

Review: The Secret Life of Maeve Lee Kwong by Kirsty Murray

Teaser...

Teaser

Review: Solace of the Road by Siobhan Dowd

All Writers Go Through It: Self Doubt

Teaser!

Teaser!

Review: The Sky is Everywhere

On Resenting the Stereotypical "Girl"

I Like Queries

Teen Writers

Tease Tease Tease!

Write What You Don't Know

Review, Eon: Dragoneye Reborn by Alison Goodman

Teaserlicious

Just Write Your Book, Okay?

Teaser Tuesday

Dude, seriously, no, really, like, totally

I'm a Tease

Just a Quick Update

Because I Thought I Should Say Something...

Teaser!

Teaser Tuesday

Review # 4: Chains by Laurie Halse Anderson

Review # 3: Where the Streets Had a Name.

Agented! What?!

Review # 2 Liar by Justine Larbalestier

Teaser Tuesday!

Review # 1: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

Teaser Tuesday

Multicultural Review Month April Kickoff: Why Multicultural Books are Important

Teaser Tuesday!

Teaser Tuesday...

Teaser

Teaser...Wednesday?

Teaser!

Teaser Tuesday!

Teaser :D

Teaser Tuesday

Book Review: Hush Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick.

Teaser.

Late Teaser :)

I am so tired...

Some Thoughts on Mockingjay SPOILERS