Quote of the Day

I am not interested in the ephemeral…I am interested in those things that repeat and repeat and repeat in the lives of the millions.–Thornton Wilder, The New York Times (6 November 1961)

As you may have gathered, Thornton Wilder is a new favorite writer. I recently saw a gorgeous production of Our Town (and spent the evening crying about how beautiful and fleeting life is). Walt gave me a copy of the play for Christmas and I finished reading it over the weekend–so good.

Like in the quote above, Our Town deals with the very ordinary daily activities that are deeply meaningful and connect humans across time. I feel like this is something I want to keep in mind in my own writing–what is lasting? What is eternal? What touches all of us at our most basic human level?

Write Posthumously, Edit Currently

Adapted from a speech given to the 2012 Whiting Award winners, Jeffrey Eugenides implores writers to “write posthumously”–to take a step back from the writing world and deadlines and money and fame and critics, and to write according to a deeper and more lasting truth. Forget about what your readers expect, what your critics want–just write.

I like a lot of that advice. No matter what stage of the writing game you’re at, there’s a lot of pressure. How can you get an agent? What do editors want to read? How can I make this book more marketable? How can I win an award, and write a second novel that will win an award? That kind of thinking doesn’t necessarily get you award-winning novels. At the end of the day, I want to write books that touch people or make them laugh or explore what it’s like to be alive. It’s hard to do that when you’re trying to think “But I hear that vampires/dystopias/mermaids are really popular!”

Eugenides says: “When you started writing, in high school or college, it wasn’t out of a wish to be published, or to be successful, or even to win a lovely award like the one you’re receiving tonight. It was in response to the wondrousness and humiliation of being alive.”

For me, writing felt like the most natural thing you can do with some paper. The world has so many stories! Why wouldn’t you want to tell them all? So when I’m feeling stuck or under pressure, I try to remember what it was like when writing was about fun. It was about having a blank sheet of paper one minute and a full one the next. It was about getting to that place inside your head where the world retreats somehow and the characters start to move and talk. That’s a good place to be.

Of course, that’s the ideal writing life. In real life, you have editors and agents and readers and critics and, heck, a rent to pay and you can’t always write exactly what you want to write exactly when you want to write it. At the Millions, Todd Hasak-Lowy suggests writers take Eugenides’s advice with a grain of salt. Sure, we should write without the demands of the publishing industry in mind. But writers also have to deal with these issues. Your agent may say that your latest project isn’t going to sell. Your editor may not be into the minor character you love. Maybe no one shows up to your reading. Maybe you get a bad review. From talking to working writers, this stuff happens way more often than we’d like to think. Writers need to be prepared for the realities of the business side of writing, not just the creative side. I like Hasak-Lowy’s suggestion for what authors should do:

“[The] so-called writer has to wear all sorts of hats: writer, reader, editor, negotiator, businessman, self-promoter, etc. And only the first of these hats should never be worn outside one’s private necropolis. The next two have the odd responsibility of communing — patiently, cautiously, and courageously — with the dead self. The rest must find of way of coming to terms with life among the living.”

When you have your writing hat on, forget the rest of the world. You’ve got a story in front of you–focus on that. But you need to understand how to deal with the rest of the world, too, and part of that means putting on new hats. Over the last few months, I’ve talked to several writer friends about the “follow up book” and developing a solid reader base. And that doesn’t always include writing your secret favorite idea first. No matter what stage of your career, you need to recognize the realities of being a professional writer.
Still, that doesn’t mean Eugenides is wrong. The writing is what matters. We’re here for the writing, not for the money (ha) or fame (ha) or cool book swag (bookmarks!). Even if your writing career doesn’t bring you all the success you hope for, you’re still craft characters and finding the right words to express those deep longings we all feel. And that’s pretty awesome.

New Year, New Adventures

I don’t tend to make resolutions. I’d rather decide to change or do something because I’m ready for that action, not because it’s January 1. But the beginning of the year is also a good time to think about the year ahead. So here are a few things I’m excited about in 2013:

  • Getting to know more of my fellow 2014 debut authors through OneFour KidLit. Our blog is now live, so I’ll be sharing thoughts, experiences, and (hopefully) funny videos there as well. Make sure to check it out.
  • Attending at least two retreats/conferences.
  • Taking real author photos.
  • Finishing up QotA edits.
  • Going full steam ahead into the next project.
  • Going to more concerts (as inspiration for the next project).
  • Reading more and keeping better track of what I read.
  • Baking more bread.
  • Finally putting up the rest of our pictures on the wall instead of stacking frames on the futon.
  • Going to lots of readings and literary events in the area. (So lucky that so many authors live in/visit Boston.)

Man, writing all that down makes me really psyched for 2013. What are you looking forward to this year?

Looking Back, Looking Forward

At the end of the year, it’s easy to look back on former resolutions and feel sad about those goals you didn’t quite accomplish. But author T. Michael Martin is here to tell you that it’s okay if you didn’t have the most amazing year of accomplishments ever. Sometimes those disappointments and setbacks are leading you on the road to your ultimate writerly goals:

Let’s be honest: setbacks suck, and it’s okay to feel disappointed. But writing is also a really hard career without a set path. There’s no reason you should feel like your novel has to be published by the time you’re 30 or that you have to have an agent before the end of the year or that this is the year you need to support yourself by writing books full-time. Being a writer means always having to deal with bumps in the road and insecurities and setbacks. Everyone is dealing with this–you’re not alone. Even if you see fellow writers who seem to have it all, I’m guessing they’re dealing with their own stresses and disappointments behind the scenes.

Case in point: author Jo Knowles and her post about her goals and dreams for 2012. In case you don’t know Knowles, she has several awesome and (what I consider) successful YA/MG books out. In her post, she talks frankly about financial disappointments and missed promotional opportunities. I was really relieved to see that she continues to face challenges in her writing career as well. She also mentions a lot of great things that happened this year–a necessary reminder to not forget the good things that happen, too.

So tonight, I hope you can accept any disappointments you may have experienced over the last year and remember all the good things that happened. And don’t worry–whatever path you’re on, whatever challenges you may face, there are a lot of other writers who are right there beside you.

Our Town and Realizing Life

9780060535254Last night, Walt and I saw the Huntington Theatre’s production of David Cromer’s Our Town by Thornton Wilder. This might be my favorite play ever and this production was stunning. In general, the show emphasizes the fleetingness of life and the importance and beauty of the everyday. Cromer’s production takes this to a new level and I’m still pretty much an emotional wreck about the whole thing. (But in a good way.)

But it also made me think about an article I read recently about the art of being still and how that can help you as an artist. It’s easy to rush through the day and never really notice or appreciate the things and people around you. In Our Town, Emily and the Stage Manager have an exchange:

EMILY: Does anyone ever realize life while they live it…every, every minute?
STAGE MANAGER: No. Saints and poets maybe…they do some.

But even poets can get caught up in the rush of day jobs, laundry, making breakfast, paying electric bills, etc. In his article, Silas House suggests that we slow down and focus on the situation around us and ultimately utilize it in our writing:

“We must use every moment we can to think about the piece of writing at hand, to see the world through the point of view of our characters, to learn everything we can that serves the writing. We must notice details around us, while also blocking diversions and keeping our thought processes focused on our current poem, essay or book.”

I like the idea of a focused, hypersensitivity. Even if you don’t focus on a particular project, as a writer it really helps to live in the moment. You’re more likely to notice surprising details or odd characteristics when you’re not thinking about how you need milk or that you should email your friend about dinner. Not only is this important for general quality of life (it all goes so fast and is so beautiful), but it can bring a whole new depth to your writing life.

If you’re in the Boston area, you need to check out Our Town. And if you’re not, you still should check out a copy of the play. So good, guys.

Meg Rosoff and the Struggle

Martha Brockenbrough has a great interview with Meg Rosoff. One part I especially liked:

“Holy cow but your stories are courageous. I don’t want to spoil things for readers who haven’t read all your titles yet, but you’ve dealt with war, with sex boundaries, with religion. What is it about difficult topics that attracts you?

I don’t set out to deal with “difficult” subjects.  I’m just interested in the things that puzzled me as a kid, in my teens, 20s, 30s, in my 40s.  Now.  Why do people fall in love and why do they not….why do some people believe in god (I never did).  Why are some people straight and some gay?  Where does identity come from?  How do you know who you are?  How do you find out?  Why does my mother say no one will marry me if I don’t wear more pink? (not that I hold a grudge)

All the subjects that I found so difficult during my adolescence (which is still trundling on to an embarrassing extent in my, ahem, 50s) like family ties, and chemistry, and gender, and what saves people from themselves….I had such a long struggle to see life in focus that I’m a bit obsessed with the struggle.”

This idea of examining the struggle is one reason I find literature in general so compelling. It can be hard enough to examine these kinds of questions on your own; reading can help you better understand others and your own place in the universe.

Also, I like that these are questions and issues that span across literature in general. YA doesn’t have to be lighter or fluffier than books for adults. It looks at these same questions from the perspective of people who are just starting to engage with the larger world–and I find that exciting.

Make sure to check out the full the interview; lots of good thoughts on the writing process in there, too.

This Is Real Life

The Hub is currently going through a great series about the “next big thing” in YA. One post I was especially glad to see was this one about contemporary/realistic fiction. As a writer of contemporary realistic YA, I know it doesn’t always seem as fun and flashy as some of the other genres–no monsters, no time travel, no awesome steampunk outfits. (Unless we’ve got a real-life steampunker on our hands, in which case I want to read that book.) But it’s a solid standby for the genre. As Kelly says:

“It is the bread and butter of YA fiction because it is the essence of what the teenage experience is. It’s happy. It’s dark. It’s tough. It’s romantic. It’s mysterious.”

Which is one part of what I love about contemporary YA. As much as I love to read about other worlds and heroic adventures, it’s also great to connect with characters who are dealing with very real issues and having very real adventures.

Kelly offers many suggestions for contemporary realistic YA reading that covers a breadth of topics like grief, sex, graduation, obesity, and secrets. There are so many topics and options because YA is ever-evolving and expanding. Kelly says it way better than I could:

“Nothing in contemporary YA fiction is sacred. There are no topics too light nor too dark to dig into, nor should there be. Even topics that emerge again and again — things like cancer or depression or first love or friendship — are still new and fresh upon each telling. Teens live a million different experiences, and even when faced with similar challenges, each individual tackles it in his or her own unique manner.

This is why there is and never will be a “next big thing” in contemporary fiction. The only trend and the only prediction that can be made for reality is that teens live it each and every day, and having a robust selection of stories about real experiences is crucial. But it’s not simply about having them that matters — reading them and knowing about them is just as critical.”

I want to put this on a big flag and wave it around. Contemporary YA may not get the buzz that some other genres do, but it’s filled with love and hope and truth and humor, and all of that matters.

Make sure to check out the full post because it’s so good.

YA Doesn’t Hide Its Heart

After reading this interview, I’m pretty sure Libba Bray is going at the top of my “We Need to Be Friends Please” list. This alone gets my vote of awesome:

CultureMap: You say that it was “love at first sight” for you with YA. What drew you to it?

Libba Bray: I just read this great quote by Junot Diaz, he was talking about true intimacy, and he was saying that it was the willingness to be vulnerable and to be found out. That’s what I felt that YA did. It wasn’t pretentious, and it wasn’t hiding its heart. It wanted to be found out…

It felt like those moments when you go to a party and you’re standing around for a long time, going, I don’t fit in here, what am I going to talk to these people about? And everybody’s getting drunk, and then you find this one person, and you end up sitting in some corner talking about all these arcane things.

And then before you know it you’re having a conversation about the meaning of life and it’s four o’clock in the morning. That kind of feeling, that kind of intimacy — I felt like that’s what I got from YA.

I feel like this is the perfect way to describe a career in YA. When I was in college and grad school, most of my fellow writers focused on literary fiction. There’s a lot about literary fiction I like, but it never felt as compelling to me as YA. Like Bray says, I feel that YA isn’t “hiding its heart.” I love that there’s so much heart.