twitter Facebook LinkedIn Pinterest Email RSS

I Love Outlines, But I Can’t Write Them For Peanuts

Brightly colored frosting makes the best finger paint! It's tasty, too!

Brightly colored frosting makes the best finger paint! It's tasty, too!

One of the things non-fiction is good for is cultivating voice. Because NF has no characters to hide behind, it forces us to write as ourselves in a way regular fiction (as opposed to fictive or inspired-by memoir) doesn’t.

The voice I’ve spent so long honing in my NF work has helped me a lot over recent months–it’s easier for me to get into a character’s head without mapping or noting or any of the other techniques I used to use. But the other NF stalwart I’ve come to depend on, the outline, doesn’t carry over to fiction.

Granted, I rarely outline my blog posts (though I do use a blog client rather than writing directly in WordPress. More on that in another post.). But other than these posts, I stick to my non-fiction outlines the way finger paint sticks to my jeans, shirts, walls, and kitchen cupboards. Writing an article without an outline is difficult for me–I end up scattered and utterly confused. When I write fiction, though, I find the very act of writing an outline leaves me scattered!

Here’s what my non-fiction outlines tend to look like:

Title: Blog Post on Outlines, Plot, Voice

Intro

  • What am I writing about?
  • Key point – using outlines, getting confused, thoughts
  • Do outlines hinder voice or help it?
  • Relevant links: x, y, z

Where Am I Going With This? 2 Paragraphs

  • Point 1
  • expand, include a relevant quote
  • sum up

Conclusion

  • What I’ve learned/am thinking about
  • Questions

Extra funny thing: I can write from someone else’s outline with no hassle. Hand me a writing exercise, or hash something out with me for a short story, and I’m fine. Ask me to write the outline myself, and I’m a mess.Remember when I said non-fiction helps with voice, because there are no characters to hide behind? I think that’s my problem. Outlines in fiction–for me, anyway–take the story in an NF direction, so that I end up thinking news-and-opinion rather than character-and-plot-development.

Overall, not writing outlines isn’t a killer for me, but it is sometimes annoying. My writing group has no problem working out plots and sequencing, while I struggle to get all my ducks in a row. Oftentimes, this means I have to write and rewrite large chunks of a manuscript until it’s all internally consistent–which is a pain and a half! Lately, I’m getting over the hassle of this by keeping a soap opera diary.

A soap opera diary (I have no idea what they’re actually called, but that’s what a guy I used to know, who worked on Passions, called them) is like an encyclopedia for any given show. Continuity people keep track of all the births, deaths, marriages, evil takeovers, one night stands, coffee hijinks and more so that the show doesn’t contradict itself. There are still gaffes every now and then, but for the most part, the writers and continuity folk manage to keep the show fairly consistent. So, for my latest manuscript, I’ve started doing post-outlines, summarizing chapters and highlighting anything that could be a Big Continuity Issue later.

Do you write outlines for fiction, non-fiction, or both? How do you keep track of continuity issues?

Like this post? Share it! Or Subscribe via Email or RSS.


tweet this share on facebook share on google+ share on linkedin tumble this email this post print this page

Writing YA: Advice from literary agent Jennifer DeChiara on Twitter

Last week, agent Jennifer DeChiara opened the virtual floor to writers, taking questions on Twitter about everything from her flossing habits (once a year, like clockwork) to agent nudging. She represents a variety of genres, including kidlit and YA. Missed the conversation? Get the highlights below, and follow Jennifer on Twitter @4writers, and check out the Jennifer DeChiara Literary Agency online for resources and more.

Thanks to the Twitterverse for such great questions!

The Jennifer DeChiara Literary Agency is a New York City-based full-service literary agency founded in 2001 and named one of the top 25 literary agencies in the country by Writer’s Digest.

The agency represents children’s literature for all ages – picture books and middle-grade and young adult novels – but also represents high-quality adult fiction and non-fiction in a wide range of genres. The categories we are most enthusiastic about agenting are literary and commercial fiction; mysteries, thrillers, celebrity biographies; humor; psychology and self-help; parenting; health and fitness; women’s issues; men’s issues; pop culture; film and television; social issues and contemporary affairs.

JDLA is proud to be one of the few literary agencies to represent illustrators, as well as screenwriters for both television and film, including Emmy-winning writers and a Peabody Award-winning illustrator.

Note: I’ve reformatted some of the text into regular English for readers not used to Tweet/733+ speak.

Responses, Rejections, & Agent Nudging

Is no response from an agent always a no? Should I re-query?

I respond to all queries, unless they’re not sent to me by name (Dear Agent) or no name at; no response just means I never saw it.

Yes, I would [re-query], but make sure that you’re querying the way that particular agent requested (email, snail mail, smoke signal).

How many submissions do you see a month? Have you taken on many new clients this year?

About 20,000 each month; I honestly couldn’t tell you how many new clients I’ve taken on this past year – at least six, I’d say.

Please remember that I get so many projects thrown at me that I can only choose the ones I’m the most passionate about.

Is it okay to status query? I’ve read agents don’t like it.

Hard to answer in 140 characters! Check agent’s policies. I don’t mind being nudged, but not 2 wks after submitting something.

If an agent takes a long time to respond, does it mean they’re just not that into me? If it does, I’d rather just get a “no”.

Of course; but don’t assume that no response means no, especially if you email a query. They might not have even seen it.

Honestly, agents are so busy that 3 months is like 3 days; I have a business to run, clients to take care of, before reading new mss.

Should I avoid querying during the summer? Are agents still reading then?

Not at all; agents and editors still work during the summer, although things might move more slowly.

Do you read your own slush? Or do you have interns?

We used to have an entire room filled with boxes of slush and submissions. Now we only accept email queries it’s better, I guess, but it’s still overwhelming. We receive hundreds of e-queries each day, not to mention requested work, clients’ mss, etc.. I’ve tried it by having assistants read for me, but it never works. I prefer to read everything myself, which is why it takes me so long.

Writing, Voice, & Genre

Is it okay to say a book is multiple genres in a query?

That’s a red flag to me: if there are too many, it’s usually a sign that the ms needs to be reworked and refocused.

Is chick-lit outdated? Is there still a market for it?

Yes, it’s [the term] outdated, but I admit I still use it. :-)

Names might change, but women’s commercial fiction will stay the same. Substance might change slightly to reflect economy. Some say that women talking about their designer duds might not have an audience these days, but I think people need an escape, especially now.

Lots of agents and editors advise against prologues, but a lot of best-sellers and classics have them. Do you love them or hate them?

Some writers use them as a crutch, to give the reader information that they don’t know how to incorporate in their book. In my experience, I’ve found them to be unnecessary; I prefer jumping directly into the action anyway.

Agents and editors are always talking about voice. How can I develop my voice?

Every writer has his own beautiful voice, although it may need some finetuning. But most lose it by trying to be something they’re not, trying to copy other writers, not having confidence that they are unique and wonderful in their own right.

Market, Promotion, & What Agents Are Looking For

Are you interested in authors who write more than one genre/age range? Would you prefer an author who sticks with just one genre for a while?

Doesn’t really matter to me.

But when [the] 1st book gets published, the next few books should be in that genre; fans will be looking for more, writer needs to be established.

Is it okay to pitch a series?

[It’s] sort of a no-no; [the] first book must have numbers to do a series. Agents can envision a series from a grocery list; you don’t have to tell us.

Is it easier to get an agent if you already have a novel out?

Not necessarily, if the sales aren’t great. A debut novelist has more of a chance because of this, in my opinion.

What’s the best way to use social networking to promote your book?

Too much to say in 140 characters! Tons of books on the subject. Befriend many, offer help, don’t just try to sell your book.

Is it more important to write a story you love, or one the market loves?

Keep an eye on the market, but write what you’re passionate about, write from your heart. That’s where your best work will come from, IMO.

Advice For Writers

If there were one thing you could tell writers, something not up on blogs and other websites all the time, what would it be?

Believe in your talent and never give up. Don’t listen to naysayers. Take advice, digest it, but do what you think is best. Even if you never get published, no one can take away your joy in writing, which is why you should be doing it anyway.

Thanks to all the Twitter folk who posted such great questions!

@YolaRamunno @Crzywritergrl @jlhuspek @franklyj @JenSwanBooks @andieryan @theocgirl1 @thxthatwasfun @AshElizabeth01 @sarahjclark

Like this post? Share it! Or Subscribe via Email or RSS.


tweet this share on facebook share on google+ share on linkedin tumble this email this post print this page

Online Presence Linkage for Writers

Mashable, Social Media SiteThis Saturday past, I facilitated the Online Presence Special Interest Group at the New England Regional SCBWI (#nescbwi10) conference in Fitchburg, MA. The group was filled with marvelous people with great questions, and we talked about everything from Twitter lists through the difference between LiveJournal and WordPress. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be writing up articles based on the things discussed, but in the meantime, here’s a collection of links for folks still sorting out how to fit into the blagosphere.

My articles on blogging at Guide to Literary Agents:

Facebook:

Twitter:

My posts on Twitter & social networks:

Anything I missed? Any other links or lists you’d like to see? Drop me a line!

Like this post? Share it! Or Subscribe via Email or RSS.


tweet this share on facebook share on google+ share on linkedin tumble this email this post print this page

Attending the NESCBWI conference? A few handy tips.

If you’re a YA or kidlit writer in New England, chances are you’ve heard of the regional NESCBWI conference. I’m going for the first time this year (excited!) and am in list overdrive, writing out things I need to collect for the conference (chocolate), work out before the conference (the calories from the chocolate), and generally do before the conference (buy more chocolate). Of course, since this is only my second conference, I’ve also been spending a fair amount of time on the interwebs collecting tips. Here’s what I’ve learned so far:

Three tips from agent Sara Megibow @ Nelson Literary, via their marvelous e-newsletter:

1. Work the blurb. Make sure you can rattle off a 2 sentence pitch at any time.

2. Be prepared to submit. Have a sample (say 3 chapters or 30 pages) ready to email and easy to access/email. Have a full ready, too, both in MS word format and with all your contact details included.

3. Update your blog/site! It’s a fairly common practice to check people out online nowadays, so make sure your website puts your best (virtual) foot forward.

And a couple from Cynthea Liu’s Writing for Children’s and Teens (head over to Cynthea’s post for more great tips):

1. Work the room and meet people. If the highschool prom wallflower routine is your usual thing, it’s time to break out and try something new. Conferences are a great opportunity to meet people with similar interests–and people who take YA and kidlit seriously–and learn new things. You don’t have to engage in hours of dreaded small talk to get involved. Try asking about someone’s writing, or what they thought of last year’s Newbery/Printz/awesome award winners.

2. Think about your outfit. Don’t rock up to a conference in your PJs or baby-stained overalls. You don’t have to do the totally geared up business deal, but try to be neat and tidy. Worried you won’t be memorable without your hot pink fedora? Don’t worry. As long as you’re honest and involved, you’ll stand out to the people who matter.

And a few of my own, based on my experience at the Utah-based Brigham Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers Workshop a couple of years ago (and some intense, freaked out brainstorming this week):

1.Take a pen and paper. Do not depend on your laptop/smart phone/teeny-weeny device for everything. Sometimes, it’s too hard to whip the thing out, other times, well–devices fail. Batteries fail. Don’t let your love of funky new gadgets leave you in the lurch.

2. Get some business cards. In Utah, I ended up scribbling my email address on lots of tiny slips of paper ahead of time, because people kept asking for my details and I wasn’t prepared enough. And yet, it wasn’t ‘til this past week that I learned my lesson (I’ve been asked for a card three times). Business cards are easy and inexpensive to make–there are a lot of online services around, or you can do it in person at your local Staples/print center. If you’re a social networking tech kind of person, make sure you include your website, twitter, Facebook details etc.

3. Take snacks. Conferences do have some food, but there are often queues, and there’s not guarantee there’ll be food around you like/can eat, especially if you have dietary restrictions (I’m a vegetarian who doesn’t eat dairy products). Throw some granola bars and fruit, or even sandwiches in your bag. And include a bottle of water. All that discussion is thirsty work!

4. Know your stuff. Make sure you know not just about your work, but about what’s going on in the industry. You don’t need to know the finer points of everything, but it’s a good idea to be familiar with the Big Things in publishing. Spend some time reading up on PW.com, or surfing agent and writer blogs for information.

5. Learn new stuff. Even if you know all there is to know about a topic, try taking a back seat and letting other people talk. Most people clam up in the face of a lot of knowledge, which means you could miss out on a new or useful viewpoint, or learning about a great new resource.

6. Ask questions. At the Utah conference, a lot of people were very shy about asking questions because they didn’t want to look stupid. But, as my good friend Chris once told me, “There are no stupid questions. Just stupid answers.” Whenever I’m balking at opening my mouth, I repeat that a couple of times, then stick up my hand. Still feeling shy? Remember that asking a question actually puts the spotlight on the person answering. It also, for good or ill, puts all the expectations on them rather than you.

7. Make a list of what you want to get out of the conference. I like lists for a reason–they help me visualize what I want, remember what I need to do, and generally make me more effective. While you mightn’t want to include nebulous goals like “find the perfect agent”, a few well-thought out items like “meet writers in my area” and “learn about trends in YA” could help keep you focused on what’s important to you, and getting the most out of the event.

8. Agents and editors are people, too. I’ve heard several horror stories about people pitching agents and editors in bathrooms and elevators, and a lot of reasons not to do it. And while I agree you shouldn’t stalk publishing professionals, I think it’s important to remember that they’re a lot like us–people who love books, reading, and possibly even chocolate. So if you’re lucky enough to end up chatting with a couple of agents or editors, don’t freak out or go all hero-worship on the poor folks. Just relax, and talk like you’d talk to anyone involved in your industry–calmly and professionally.

Do you have any handy conference tips? Have you been making lists in preparation, or are you a more easy-going attendee? Are you excited about the conference? Nervous? Blasè?

Like this post? Share it! Or Subscribe via Email or RSS.


tweet this share on facebook share on google+ share on linkedin tumble this email this post print this page

The Case For Writing Poorly, Or Using Straightforward Prose

Writing is a numbers game–the more books you sell, the more money you make. If you write fast, it’s even better. Getting a book out every year for ten years (Jasper Fforde’s goal), if you sell enough, could be quite lucrative (and your hourly rate might actually approach positive numbers). Yet writing, good writing, takes time to craft. Story, characters, and prose itself do not happen overnight, particularly if you’re fond of tight dialogue and polished writing. But here’s the secret: not all readers are writers, and a lot of them don’t care about your perfectly polished prose.

Poor writing–a term I hear bandied about once or twice a year, whenever I’m in a group of writers–is not simply writing badly. It’s the perception of writing badly, of writing in a way that focuses less on literature and writing, and more on reading.

Don’t get me wrong–metaphor, allegory, and description are three of my closest friends. Whenever I read a passage I truly love, I add it to my Quotes & Adorations file, saving (and savoring) it for a time when I need a little literary love. But pop fiction, from chick lit to cozy mysteries, is popular for a reason: it’s easy to read, easy to digest, and easy to dispose of when you’re done.

It’s easy to dismiss pop fiction as trash for the masses. It’s also dangerous to dismiss pop fiction as trash for the masses. Why?

All books, even those which may be irritating/annoying/present a point we don’t agree with, have value.
The masses are aptly named–they’re the majority of readers, the folk who make bestsellers bestsellers.

Hello, my name is Peta, and I am a literary snob. I look my down my overly large Indian nose at many books, particularly when I’m in a funk over my own writing. I am irritated by clunky prose, drawn out of stories by dry dialogue, and find words like “ain’t” only a few ellipses short of repulsive. I pride myself on being able to craft a good sentence. I’ve also been known to spend hours crafting that one sentence.

Generally speaking, though, readers are not looking for a perfect sentence. They’re not looking to deconstruct a book, or get together and create a literary love file. Much as I–literary snob and book geek that I am–hate to admit it, the general reader is not looking for carefully polished prose. Most readers are looking for the Big Three:

Entertainment
Thought-provoking plot or characters
Familiar, straightforward writing

But straightforward writing, while not necessarily literary or writerly (writerly in a bad, overwrought sense) is a good thing, because it’s, well, straightforward, and easily understood by the lowest common denominator.

The Lowest Common Denominator

Finding the lowest common denominator is not just something you do in elementary math. (Though I do love fractions. Something about those little numbers and slashes makes me very happy. Recurring decimals? Blech.) But the lowest common denominator, in figurative terms, is similar to its mathematical counterpart: it’s a way of finding the broadest possible common ground, something that appeals to everyone, i.e. the masses. (I’m not using LCD in a derogatory sense–I’m a big fan of the masses, being one of them and all.)

Column writing provides a great example of appealing to the lowest common denominator. To write a successful column, it’s important to think about audience, and find the same wavelength as your audience. Craig Wilson, a columnist for USA Today, does this by using simple, clear language–most of his columns use common words with a maximum of two syllables. This isn’t because Wilson has a poor vocabulary, or because he thinks his readers have mashed prunes for brains. It’s because, for a popular columnist, getting the story across is more important than stringing together a few pretty words. (Fun fact: the word “prose” actually comes from a Latin word meaning “straightforward discourse”.)

In terms of fiction, writing for the lowest common denominator is not quite so simple, because there’s genre to consider. Hard science fiction readers have different interests, and a different threshold to historical romance readers. Each genre (even literary fiction) has its own language (I almost wrote “lexicon”, then remembered this is a post about straightforward writing). Historical romance readers may be familiar with terms like “farrier” and “roustabout” while science fiction readers are not. Shooting for just the historical romance reader may alienate potential readers skimming in a bookstore or taking a stroll through a friend’s shelves. Yet over-explaining, or using very simple language (“farrier” vs. “the man who makes horse shoes and takes care of hooves”), could frustrate experienced genre readers. So where is the line?

Putting Genre-Specific Language in Context

In a recent, very unscientific polling of my bookshelves, I discovered that my favorite authors are those who use context to explain or describe important details. Let’s say I’m writing a novel with a farrier named Percy. The first time I introduce Percy, I might write:

Farriers–horseshoe makers–were a welcome sort in every town, a fact Percy played to his advantage. Offering a three shoe for the price of two deal every Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday, he reminded his more intelligent customers that no, a better deal could not be got elsewhere, because there was, in fact, no other elsewhere, as Percy’s nearest competition was one hundred miles away, or eight hours by a regular horse, and twelve hours by a three-shod one, so they’d best take advantage of his deal and buy twelve shoes to save four hours.

Later, when I want to revisit Percy, but not go into such horse-shoeing detail, I could use sensory details to remind the reader of what a farrier is:

Athenia breathed deeply, savoring the farrier’s scent of sweat, fire, iron, and the forge mingled with the foppish apple tobacco he preferred.

The brief description of scents associated with Percy the farrier remind the reader that a farrier is, amongst other things, a type of metalworker. Added to other contextual clues, this is enough to ground the unfamiliar reader without irritating the seasoned one.

A Note on the Lowest Common Denominator in YA

Finding the lowest common denominator in a YA audience is a bit strange, because YA isn’t written along handy-dandy genre lines. And teens are less entrenched in a particular kind of reading, and are willing to jump around subject matter, so the general genre language rules don’t apply. Just be honest, write authentically, take a few deep breaths, and everything will be okay. Or at least as okay as it ever is. Of course, getting a handle on familiar style might also help…

On Thursday, I’ll have more about “writing poorly” and YA, in my very creatively titled post, Reading Fast, Writing Poorly, & Getting Old.

Looking for an example of straightforward, popular fiction? Check out this free download of Heat Wave, a Richard Castle novel, from ABC.com.

Do you write for everyone? Or do you stick to a specific audience? Why?

Like this post? Share it! Or Subscribe via Email or RSS.


tweet this share on facebook share on google+ share on linkedin tumble this email this post print this page

Reading: What Makes a Book Satisfying?

The Thief, Megan Whalen TurnerLast week, I posted about what makes a book unsatisfying (it’s all about a poor resolution–sorry, Eve). But pinning down what makes a book satisfying isn’t as simple as writing out a list of opposites. Sure, a book with a great wrap up might be a good read, but there’s more to a satisfying book than that.

Reading–moreover, enjoying–a book is a very subjective thing. So far this month, I’ve read just one completely satisfying book – Megan Whalen Turner’s The Thief – which hit on all my favorite things. But the parts of a book I like (a lot of sensory detail, historical inclusions, world myths, dalek fight scenes, some tangents) may be quite different to the parts you like. Harder still, our patience and thresholds for enjoyment may be different. (I’m often willing to give a book at least one hundred pages before deeming it slow, but only call about 10% of what I read truly enjoyable.) Despite this, though, there are three easy ways to figure out if a book was satisfying or not:

  • You think about the book for a while after you’ve finished it
  • You talk about the book with friends, without using negative adjectives
  • You look for a sequel/other books by the same author

Trusting the Reader

An inherent part of reading is trust. As I mentioned last week, readers trust that an author will reward their efforts, and provide a story worth reading all the way to the end. But, as my mother likes to say, trust is a two-way street.

It’s easy to pile everything on an author–after all, in Book Land, authors create, giveth, and taketh away. But a large part of writing is giving the reader credit, and assuming that he/she is neither dense nor stupid, and doesn’t require a summary or info dump every few pages. (This is especially true in YA.) But striking a balance between giving just enough information rather than too little or too much is difficult, even for the best authors (Rebecca Stead’s When You Reach Me is a great example of getting it right).

Although it’s not the only reason a book might be satisfying, having an author’s trust is definitely an important factor in a satisfying read. Much like a keystone, authorial trust holds everything in place. Why? Because readers are people–people who want (and deserve) to be respected not just for their intellect, but for putting in the effort to read a good book. When an author takes the leap–and it is a leap, because one of the greatest parts of being an author is being able to share our stories in the way we think they should be shared–and trusts the reader, three important things happen:

  • Redundancy disappears
  • Backstory becomes less of a focus/chore
  • The story becomes more compelling because we have to work through it

And when an author doesn’t trust the reader to pick up hints and clues? Generally speaking, the writing becomes redundant, with not-so-obvious hints repeated every few pages, and characters taking turns spewing backstory and “necessary” info. Most of the time, this turns a potentially good book into a frustrating read because:

  • The characters spend too long talking, and not enough time acting
  • The writing is full of telling rather than showing
  • Dialogue is stilted, or filled with forced reveals and backstory
  • Adjectives are over-used in an attempt to draw attention to important information (usually information that was revealed earlier)
  • It takes too long to slog past the history and get to where the story starts

Sometimes, though, these aren’t satisfaction-killers–it all depends on what the reader wants from a book. Danielle Steele, Queen of Redundancy, has a large dedicated following, possibly because the amount of redundancy in her books means a reader can pick them up and put them down willy-nilly, yet still keep up with the story.

Reasons we love a book

Of course, working through a story–like having an author’s trust–is just one part (albeit a very important part like, say the Mona Lisa’s smile) of the big picture. And not every satisfying book hits every one of the reasons listed below–which is okay, because every book, every story, and every author is different.

Reasons a book may stay with you after that last page turn:

  • The clues lead up to a big–not obvious–aha! moment
  • Characters act like themselves all the way up to the end, even when a situation is difficult
  • The story ties into our humanity, playing on emotions (romantic subplots) or sense of justice (villains get comeuppance) &c.
  • Plotlines come together in an unexpected way
  • Everything resolves, but without a forced ending
  • The story/characters challenge the way the reader thinks
  • Subplots are resolved
  • The story ties into familiar settings/uses the reader’s knowledge in some way
  • The story wasn’t obvious/had to be worked through for the pay off

Working through the Story

Reading is fun, but, like most things, it’s actually more fun if everything is not handed to us on a silver platter. Most readers are drawn to stories with a puzzle to solve, or a kind of mystery. This doesn’t mean that mysteries are the only good fiction (though I do love a bit of Poirot on a rainy day), because almost all stories–or rather, almost all good stories–are mysteries, regardless of their genre.

No, not all stories involve murder or theft or pet abduction. But the majority of good, worthwhile stories do involve an element of discovery, some question or event we, as the reader, is drawn to solve. Sometimes, it’s an obvious, almost physical question (Whatever Happened to Cass McBride?) layered with other questions. Sometimes it’s less concrete than that (why does Holden think everyone else is a phony?), an exploration of the whys and hows of an author’s characters/world. But working through a story is compelling because we have to use our intelligence–and often because we learn something new along the way (Megan Whalen Turner’s The Thief is a great example).

What have you read lately? Was it a satisfying read? Why?

Like this post? Share it! Or Subscribe via Email or RSS.


tweet this share on facebook share on google+ share on linkedin tumble this email this post print this page

Writing YA: Reading Deeply to Write Deeply

Writing YA: Reading Deeply to Write DeeplyWe all do it, right? Glance at a group of letters, pull out a word. Reading is so ingrained in our minds that it’s almost impossible to not read signs, titles, anything with words on. But there’s reading, and then there’s reading.

Today, reading mostly falls into two categories: reading for pleasure, and reading for information. Reading as an art–really reading, reading deeper, to get within a story, to pick it to pieces and learn how it works–is fast becoming forgotten.

But What Does “Reading Deeper” Mean?

Reading deeper is about thinking deeper, about tapping into critical thinking skills. Instead of being carried away by surface currents, a deep reader asks questions. Unlike general reading for pleasure, though, deep reading requires active thought.

E.g.
Anne of Green Gables – Why does Anne Shirley want a more romantic name?
Little Women – Why does Jo care about cutting her hair off?
Wuthering Heights – Why does the weather mirror Catherine and Heathcliff’s moods?

Another way to think of reading deeper is to think of it as reading between the lines. In the first Anne book, Montgomery establishes that Anne thinks herself unworthy of love and affection. But instead of simply telling the reader this, Montgomery uses contrasts. At first glance, a reader might chalk Anne’s dislike of her too-ordinary nose and freckles up to vanity. But when taken in context alongside the girl’s history as an orphan and her want of a more romantic name, Anne’s inner thoughts are made clear.

But what I think of as deep reading goes beyond reading between the lines–it’s sometimes called analytical reading. In an article for CopyBlogger, founder Brian Clark writes:

At this level of reading, you’ve moved beyond superficial reading and mere information absorption. You’re now engaging your critical mind to dig down into the meaning and motivation beyond the text. To get a true understanding of a book, you would:

  • Identify and classify the subject matter as a whole
  • Divide it into main parts and outline those parts
  • Define the problem(s) the author is trying to solve
  • Understand the author’s terms and key words
  • Grasp the author’s important propositions
  • Know the author’s arguments
  • Determine whether the author solves the intended problems
  • Show where the author is uninformed, misinformed, illogical or incomplete

Reading for Facts or Fun

How is this different to reading for fun or information? When we’re reading for fun, we let our conscious minds drift, giving ourselves leave to be caught up in the story. If the action gets a bit intense and our favorite character’s in danger, we might skip ahead, looking for their name, or words that indicate everything’s okay in Trixie-land (I read a lot of Trixie Belden this way when I was a kid). Sometimes, we’ll go back to fill in the blanks. Other times, particularly if the book is something akin to a cozy mystery, we just keep reading and assume anything important will be covered later.

Reading for information also involves skimming, particularly if you’re a speed reader. Instead of taking in every word, we skim a page until we find relevant sections, then read more comprehensively–sometimes reading quite deeply, but only within a given section.

Of course, there are exceptions–as anyone studying literature, history, or even reading itself, like my crit partner and friend, Livia–will know. If you’re writing a paper on The Old Man and the Sea, you pretty much have to read deeply and pull the book to pieces because that’s where the information you’re using for the paper comes from, in contrast to, say, a biology paper on photosynthesis.

Unsurprisingly, deep reading and critical thinking are important skills for writers. But they’re especially important for YA writers.

Why We Need to Read Deeper, Especially in YA

It’s easy to dismiss YA and teen readers–we’re constantly reminded that teens have short attention spans, that there are half a dozen cute kittens and dancing hamsters just a couple of clicks away. To some extent, the YA bestseller list even supports the idea – Twilight, The Mortal Instruments series, even The Hunger Games are full of flash and bang. Why? Because it’s hard to be distracted when:

  • things are blowing up
  • a demon is chasing you
  • the hot guy you’ve been dreaming about is leaning in close for a first kiss

Some flash-bang books are definitely worth a deeper read–there are a lot of layers in The Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins) and The Mortal Instruments (Cassandra Clare) that are lost in that quick, exciting first read.But for every popular action-packed book, there are a dozen contemporary YA novels being devoured every day. Yes, some of them are edgy, issue books about abuse, rape, eating disorders and the like. But the majority are not. The majority are, on the surface, simple slice-of-life books about school, or summer jobs, or a pair of pants that magically fits four girls with drastically different weights and heights.

Why are teens reading these books? Because they’re relevant. On the surface, the stories may seem as ordinary as Anne Shirley’s nose. In truth, the authors are catching hold of the things most important to their readers on a subconscious level. (Good examples include Ann Brashares’ Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series, Melina Marchetta’s Looking for Alibrandi and On the Jellicoe Road, Randa Abdel-Fattah’s Does My Head Look Big In This? and, to some extent, J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter, particularly The Prisoner of Azkaban and Goblet of Fire.)

Remember when I said deeper reading leads to deeper thinking? That’s just the first part of the chain – deeper thinking leads to deeper writing, too. Think about it–if you invest time figuring out why and how a book like When You Reach Me (Rebecca Stead) works, you suddenly have a whole lot of information about story construction at your fingertips (see Clark’s list above for ways to get started). And while you may not sit down and write out every detail you’ve gleaned (though taking notes is definitely useful), they’ll rattle around your brain and inform the next thing you sit down to write. And that information will help you write a deeper, more relevant story–the kind that catches hold of your reader’s mind, then doesn’t let go until it’s done.

Which slice-of-life YA novels have caught hold of you? Why? Do you read deeply?

P.S the kidlet has been trying to add to this post all day. Here’s what he has to say.

——-zzzzzzz—kjk

Image Credit: lusi, via sxc.hu

Like this post? Share it! Or Subscribe via Email or RSS.


tweet this share on facebook share on google+ share on linkedin tumble this email this post print this page

Writing YA: What Familiar Style is & Why You Should Use It

Young adult fiction is full of phonies. It’s not surprising–after all, the majority of YA is written by authors in their twenties, at the least. And teen vernacular is always changing. Words that were popular a few years ago (“wicked” comes to mind) are dated now, pushed aside as a new crop of words creeps in. But forced coolness and past-their-teen authors are just the tip of the phony iceberg. The true issue, lurking like only a giant, submerged slab of ice can, is style.

In terms of writing (in terms of anything, really), style is hard to explain. Everyone has a writing style, because it’s not so much about what we write as how we write it, a mingling of word choice, personal voice, experience, and grammar. Even things as basic as using/avoiding cliches and writing in first, second, or third person are a matter of style. Sometimes, shared experiences (such as an MFA program or time spent on the road as a dalek hunter) lead writers to develop similar styles, though no two people write, without intention, the same way.

What’s this got to do with phoniness? Everything. Writing, more than pretty much any other discipline, has a lot of “unbreakable” rules–rules we learn almost as early as we learn to write. Here are a few I’ve collected from English teachers over the years:

  • don’t start a sentence with a conjuction (and, but, because, etc.)
  • don’t use a conjunction with a comma
  • always start sentences with a capital letter
  • always put the comma inside the quotation marks (this is an American one I still can’t quite get me head around)
  • always complete sentences; don’t use fragments
  • don’t use “I” or personal style in essays and other formal writing

So far, I’ve broken all but “start sentences with a capital letter”. Does this mean I’m illiterate? A poor writer? Will you stop reading this post because I’m a rule-breaker of the worst kind?

Probably not, because the way I’m writing isn’t unusual–it’s familiar.

YA: when to use familiar style, when to skip it

YA readers aren’t stupid. Using big words won’t stop them from understanding your book. But it probably will keep them from reading it.

Why? Big words are phony. When was the last time you heard a teen talk about a soporific sussurus or a grove of arboreal trees? Formal writing has its place–journal papers and Proust and politics are full of it. It’s even well-used in some literary fiction (thank you, Annie Proulx). But formal language does not a good YA make.

Like anything, it’s possible to take familiar style too far–a problem in a lot of YA, published and unpublished alike. Cliches might make it easier to get a certain point across, but they’re cliches, aka the lazy writer’s shortcut. YA is about originality, discovery, and individualism (to name just a few). It’s about saying something in a new way, a way that speaks to your reader, makes them think about an idea from a different perspective. Unless you’re a secret Nigerian scammer, you can’t say anything new with a cliche, which is boring, and boring is what lands books in that magical circular filing bin in the sky.

Addressing the reader is another YA familiar style no-no. But wait–aren’t I doing that right now? Yes. But I’m writing a non-fiction blog post/essay/ramble, which doesn’t require you to suspend disbelief. Any time a narrator says “you know”, “you’ll see”, or some other variation on the you-theme, it pulls readers out of the story because you’re reminding them that narrator is a fictional construct.

Using dialogue tags other than “said” or “asked”, writing in dialect, using easily-dated words (groovy, rad)–there are many, many ways to abuse familiar style. If there are so many ways to screw it up, why use it in the first place?

Because it works.

Familiar Style: what, when, and where

Familiar style is exactly what it sounds like: a way of writing that’s easy to read and easy to understand because it uses common language and expressions. As far as anyone can guess, familiar style was first used sometime around the 16th century–Shakespeare was an early adopter, as was Montaigne. Today, it’s a fairly common way of writing, and part of what makes blogs such popular reading.

The problem with familiar style, though, is that it’s too darned well familiar. Writers (and teachers) love big words (onychogryphosis, a nail condition, was my favorite big word from ages 8-12). We like to sound smart; we love it when someone compliments us on a nice turn of phrase. And writing in a familiar style isn’t easy. The simplest way to get inside a reader’s head is to talk the way they do–except that writing the way we talk is messy, and usually full of “um”s. Familiar style usually ends up falling somewhere in between, using a cliche, then building on it, much like my iceberg line above (and yes, I did put that in just so I could reference it).

Nineteenth century essayist and critic William Hazlitt was a big proponent supporter of familiar style, writing:

I hate anything that occupies more space than it is worth. I hate to see a load of band-boxes go along the street, and I hate to see a parcel of big words without anything in them. A person who does not deliberately dispose of all his thoughts alike in cumbrous draperies and flimsy disguises, may strike out twenty varieties of familiar every-day language, each coming somewhat nearer to the feeling he wants to convey, and at last not hit upon that particular and only one which may be said to be identical with the exact impression in his mind. . . .

Familiar style is most used in general audience writing–advertisers, journalists (newspaper and magazine), and bloggers use it. Some book reviewers (the Boston Globe’s George Scialabba in particular) also use familiar style, though it’s still not common in print reviews (the last bastion of the would-be literary academic set).

Sound Smart? Or be Smart?

In 2006, an igNobel prize was awared to Daniel M. Oppenheimer, an associate professor of Psychology at Princeton, for his paper Consequences of erudite vernacular utilized irrespective of necessity: problems with using long words needlessly. Here’s a section of the abstract:

Most texts on writing style encourage authors to avoid overly-complex words. However, a majority of undergraduates admit to deliberately increasing the complexity of their vocabulary so as to give the impression of intelligence. This paper explores the extent to which this strategy is effective…When obvious causes for low fluency exist that are not relevant to the judgement at hand, people reduce their reliance on fluency as a cue; in fact, in an effort not to be influenced by the irrelevant source of fluency, they over-compensate and are biased in the opposite direction. Implications and applications are discussed.

Oppenheimer’s research was specific to non-fiction writing, such as journal papers and textbooks. But the idea that smart people use big words is a pretty common one–and with good reason. A lot of popular literary authors use big words (Margaret Atwood and Cormac McCarthy come to mind.) And while big words do make us sound smart, clear simple language makes us sound smarter.

A few years ago, I actually put down a novel because the author wrote about “the soft, soporific sussurus that whispered through the grove of arboreal trees”. I’m a patient reader, and I know what every word in that sentence means. The author didn’t. “Sussuruss” is fancy Latin way of saying “whisper”; “arboreal” means living in trees, and while there are a few trees, like strangler figs, that actually do live inside other trees, it’s a stretch to imagine a whole grove of the darned things. Why write a sentence with words you don’t fully understand? As far as I can tell, said author (and I really can’t remember who/which book it was) wanted to create a sleepy atmosphere, so they used soft “sh”-like sounds for effect. Rewriting the line in simpler language would probably kill the author’s lovingly crafted literary atmosphere–but it would also make more sense. And sense is good.

Do you write in a familiar style? Do you prefer familiar or formal books? Did you keep track of my over-the-top cliche use in this post?

Image Credit: tomswift46

Like this post? Share it! Or Subscribe via Email or RSS.


tweet this share on facebook share on google+ share on linkedin tumble this email this post print this page

YA Market: If Teens Aren’t Tweeting, Why Are We?

teenphoneAuthors should blog. Authors should get on Facebook and set up fan pages. Authors should tweet. And many YA authors do, setting up themed blogs, tweeting their favorite books, putting up book trailers and extra content. But just who is the content reaching?

According to a recent study from the Pew Internet and American Life Project, teen blogging and tweeting are down. Interestingly, the researchers list teens as 12 – 17 years old and young adults as the 18 – 29 set. Key facts from the report:

  • Blogging is less popular among teens and young adults now than it was 4 years ago. Think kids are still reading and commenting? Maybe, maybe not – teen blog commenting stats have also dropped.
  • 14% of online teens now say they blog, down from 28% in 2006.
  • In December 2007, 24% of online 18-29 year olds reported blogging, compared with 7% of those thirty and older.
  • By 2009, just 15% of internet users ages 18-29 maintain a blog–a nine percentage point drop in two years.
  • 73% of wired American teens now use social networking websites, a significant increase from previous surveys. Just over half of online teens (55%) used social networking sites in November 2006 and 65% did so in February 2008.
  • 72% of online 18-29 year olds use social networking websites, nearly identical to the rate among teens.
  • The specific sites on which young adults maintain their profiles are different from those used by older adults: Young profile owners are much more likely to maintain a profile on MySpace (66% of young profile owners do so, compared with just 36% of those thirty and older) but less likely to have a profile on LinkedIn (7% vs. 19%).
  • 8% of internet users ages 12-17 use Twitter. far less common than sending or receiving text messages as 66% of teens do, or going online for news and political information, done by 62% of online teens.
  • Older teens are more likely to use Twitter than their younger counterparts; 10% of online teens ages 14-17 do so, compared with 5% of those ages 12-13.
  • High school age girls are particularly likely to use Twitter. Thirteen percent of online girls ages 14-17 use Twitter, compared with 7% of boys that age.
  • Young adults lead the way when it comes to using Twitter or status updating. One-third of online 18-29 year olds post or read status updates.

While the report is good news for authors with older adult audiences (blogging, social networking, and twitter usage are up for internet users 30+ ) it poses an interesting question for YA authors – if teens aren’t using the same services as their  favorite authors, how can we connect with them?

Last year, Matthew Robson, a 15 year old intern at Morgan Stanley, wrote a report about trending technology and teens. While the report is largely based on Robson’s own observations and anecdotal evidence, it provides some insight into teenage tech habits. According to Robson, Facebook beats Twitter in the teen market because,

Facebook is about connecting people, and sharing information with each other. The way my friends and I see it, Facebook is a closed network. It’s a network of people and friends that you trust to be connected to, and to share information like your email address, AIM screen name, and phone number. You know who’s getting your status messages, because you either approved or added each person to your network.

Twitter, he points out, is the opposite,

It’s a completely open network that makes teenagers feel “unsafe” about posting their content there, because who knows who will read it. Sure, you get emails notifying you when you have new followers, but that doesn’t compare to the level of detail you get when someone on Facebook adds you, and you get their information.

Robson makes a valid point – our kids are clever, web-savvy individuals. In recent years, teens have been inundated with warnings about online friendships and web-stalking and it’s great to see they’ve taken it on board. But what if the teen resistance to Twitter is more basic than that? Adolescence is all about belonging, finding a niche, expressing individuality, and forming friendships–key components to the Facebook experience. Twitter, on the other hand, makes it hard to form meaningful connections, especially as a large percentage of tweeple are out solely to promote their own content (Get your free credit report now! Learn how I made millions with this simple tool developed by a stay at home mom in just 93 days!). Finding followers can also be difficult–and why post regular updates if no one is following you? While it’s possible some teens still use Twitter as a way to keep with their favorite actors, musicians (and hopefully authors) it’s unlikely. There are easier ways–gossip magazines, tabloids, online news services, and personal/professional sites–which don’t require attention 24/7.

Why spend so much time thinking about why teens prefer Facebook over Twitter? (And if teens don’t tweet, then who’s following Ashton Kutcher?) Teen reactions to both services provide insight into what teens do want, even crave – connection and community. This seems like a big ask – what’s a YA author to do? (Aside from writing excellent, readable, relevant books, that is.)

Start by seeing what’s out there. Google the popular stuff and see what fans are producing themselves. Harry Potter and Twilight spawned huge online forums and communities–and while you mightn’t have such a big fan base you can still learn from their sites. Google yourself, too–you may be surprised by what’s out there.

If you’re web-savvy (or have a friend/spouse/liger who is) encourage readers to talk about your books by adding a forum to your website–check out the forum on Princess Diaries author Meg Cabot’s site for a few ideas. Answer questions and take time to respond to your readers. Ask questions, too – it’ll help you reach readers and give you some insight into the 2010 teen experience. Love the ‘net but hate the code? Consider signing up for LiveJournal. LJ users are like an out-of-the-box community – give them a little love and they’ll respond in kind.

Make it easy for readers to contact you – make sure blog comments are enabled and set up a site email (you could use your domain name or just set up a free Gmail account) and check it regularly. Respond to everything you get, even if it takes you a few months–after all, someone loved your book enough to write to you about it, or to ask for advice. What if it’s difficult to think of something to say? You’re a writer – you’ll work it out! Don’t forget about more conventional methods of connecting with readers either. Make school visits. Talk to kids at the library and local bookstores.  Remember why you’re a YA author (not for money or fame – who are we kidding?) and put yourself out there.

If teens aren’t using Twitter, should YA authors just delete their accounts? Yes. No. Maybe. Twitter is what you make it – everything comes down to the reason you tweet. If your sole objective is to connect with teens, Twitter might not be your best option. But if you want to connect with crossover and new adult readers, go for it–one third of 18 – 29 year olds read or post status updates. Twitter is also an excellent way to connect with other writers, learn from writers, agents, and editors, and establish a web presence (a useful tool in finding an agent and/or editor).

Do you have a Twitter account? Why do you tweet? How do you connect with your readers?

Like this post? Share it! Or Subscribe via Email or RSS.


tweet this share on facebook share on google+ share on linkedin tumble this email this post print this page

Candor review over at SFWP.org

candor_largeMy first review for the Santa Fe Writers Project is up!

If I were pitching Pam Bachorz’ Candor at an editorial meeting, I’d call it “dystopian contemporary YA meets The Stepford Wives with a dash of Wisteria Lane from a male perspective”.

Oscar Banks is cookie-cutter perfect. He’s a straight A student, is dating the prettiest, smartest girl in Candor High, and has more friends than a parrot at a pirate convention…[more]

Read it at SFWP.org, then check out some of their excellent fiction!

Like this post? Share it! Or Subscribe via Email or RSS.


tweet this share on facebook share on google+ share on linkedin tumble this email this post print this page