Stupid Hill

I'm not sure this is actually my favorite post from the last year, but it's one that kept screaming at me when I thought about what should go up this week. In fact, it's  a hard post for me to re-read (and not just due to the typos), but because I failed in selling the novel it references (see my post about dealing with the lows of writing from June). In summary: I died on this hill.

However, I still firmly believe it wasn't because kids aren't smart or wouldn't handle the challenge, but that I wasn't able to write the story well enough. And, as you see from the June post, I've moved on. I'm venturing into another genre - a new voice - a different aged reader. But I'm not dumbing it down. 

Nope, I'd rather die again. 

Stupid Hill

Posted by Bret Ballou

As you know, this week is all about “Hills to Die On”. My stories tend toward a younger crowd (Upper Middle Grade) which requires me to go light on saying “Lardass” and leading people around by their junk (we all know 13 and 14 year-olds actually talk like this, though their parents…who buy books for them…pretend they don’t). I spent a lot of time this week thinking about what Middle Grade Hill I would die on.

I kept coming back to a memory from a recent conference critique. I sat down with someone who I respect 113%, both as a person and as an industry professional, an agent we’ll call Sally (to protect the innocent and in case Sally ever wants to represent me). Sally had read 15 pages of my shiny, new book. She was one of the first to taste it and I was pumped/scared-outta-my-wits to hear what she had to say.

After some compliments on my style, voice, humor, etc., came the zinger: she thought the concept was too complicated for my readership. Not the plot, not the characters, not even the rules of this fantasy world – but the very core concept would be too much for an 8-to-12 year-old to grasp. It wasn’t something I could re-tool or tweak or even throw out and start again. To change this concept was to rip apart the story’s DNA and create a different tale. Period.

If it’d been some joe-schmo agent or editor, I would’ve blown the comment off. But this was Sally. She told me as a professional. She told me as a friend. She was very, very nice about it (she always is). But the message was loud’n’clear: I was barking up the wrong tree…in the wrong forest.

I went through the usual steps of recovering from a hard critique: Shock. Denial. Numbness. Wine. Long, long talks with The Muses. Wine. But the questions nagged me for weeks: Should I leave my book to die based on Sally’s highly respected advice? Should I abandon ship and write the equivalent of Middle Grade Dancing with the “Stars”? (Back off, it’s my idea.)

All four chambers of my heart said, “NO!”

I believe that kids are smart (you’re right, MOST kids). They get deep concepts. In fact, theywant to expand their horizons. In 8^th grade, I made the leap to adult books because children’s lit – at the time – didn’t challenge me. And it wasn’t about vocabulary or reading about sex (ok, one of those is a lie). I wanted to flex my brain muscle. I wanted to go to places I’d never heard of. I wanted to know people who were totally different than me. Most of all, I wanted to hear ideas that blew my mind.

Sally knew that kids weren’t the problem. She didn’t think kids were dumb. She was pointing out that I was on a hill – and I might die. Her worries were around “salability” – or that smart works aren’t sure bets. And you already grasp that Sally was right. Just look at 95% of movies.

Really, it’s not even the book-world gatekeepers – they know intelligent things can take off, because they do. But they’re a gamble. These folks are in a business and have to sell things to feed their families. In short, if my “out there” concepts are going to be read, then the burden falls on me to write the best story I can. I have to make it so good that the various gatekeepers will have to feed it to all those brain-hungry tykes.

Of course, maybe I will die on this hill…but it’ll be because I’m not smart enough to write my concept into a clear, entertaining story…not because the readers are too dumb to get it.

To me, there’s a big difference between a stupid author and a kid in the bookstore. And that’s a hill I’m willing to die on.

And I bet Sally agrees.

This week, we're resurrecting our favorite posts from the past. Here's one I had a great time writing earlier this year. I went through the world-building process for the UNDER THE NEVER SKY Trilogy a few years ago and loved it. I'm starting it again for my next series, and I have to say, it's still one of my favorite phases of writing a book. Here it is:

World Building. It's a little intimidating, isn't it? Just the term makes me think of this:

Building a world here! Can you give me hand?

Look at that poor guy's head. Ouch. But seriously who thinks, "World-building?" and then says, "Sure, that's easy!"

I don't. But I do find it very fun, once the heavy lifting is out of the way. Here's how I did it for UNDER THE NEVER SKY.

1. Basic Premise - What is the underlying premise of the world? In Veronica Roth's DIVERGENT, society split into five factions, based on different human traits. In Beth Revis's ACROSS THE UNIVERSE, a spaceship has left a crumbling Earth for the promise of a new, better planet. In NEVER SKY, it's a future world in which people have divided into two kinds of societies, one advanced and the other primitive. These are big worlds, but you guys know that world-building can refer to a town, a highschool. Whatever the physical and social context is of your story. Make it be something, though. Your story is crying for a full, colorful canvas. 

2. Research - I couldn't travel three hundred years into the future, the time in which NEVER SKY occurs. So I read books and science journals about future technologies, and other topics that I then extrapolated from. I thought reading non-fiction for world-building was going to feel like a chore, but it was such a blast and so inspiring. I tried to also include, wherever possible, settings that I know first-hand.

3. Stare at Walls - This was a very important stage. I spent weeks letting ideas turn in my mind and then a few more weeks journaling. Little by little they began to settle into a logical order until I could see a place, a society, rules, customs. My characters, who had been waiting in the wings, suddenly stepped forward in 3D, and then the plot appeared, almost fully formed.

4. Write, Revise, Repeat - Ultimately, world-building happens on the page. It took revision after revision to get everything to fall in place. This is also the stage that brought interesting, surprising details which to me is the best part.

That's the cutest cottage I have EVER seen!

We love our characters, and we spend so much time working on story and plot. But I want to put forward the idea that context is equally important.

I mean... can you imagine this?

I forgot sunscreen!

I hate dinner parties!

  Instead of this?

In closing, have some fun with it. 

Breaking Down Authorial Voice

So in honor of our second full year of blogging, we are highlighting one of our favorite posts from the past year.  I was thrilled come across my holiday wishlist and discover I got everything I asked for, including that completed first draft.  Of course, now I am smack in the middle of another first draft, and I just want to finish this one.  

Anyway, the post that got my attention was the one I did on Authorial Voice, partly because I think voice is one of the most elusive and hard to pin down elements of craft.  This post tries to break voice down into it's base components, but I'm sure there are others. 

Breaking Down Authorial Voice

Posted by Talia Vance

 

Voice is one of those things that almost defies explanation: you know it when you see it, right?  Katy and Donna have already blogged about finding your character's voice.  I want to to talk about authorial voice.

And since I love to analyze these types of things, let's break it down.

My definition of Authorial Voice:  This is the unique writing style of the author. It's one of the reasons we fall in love with certain writers and want to read everything they've ever written, not just the story that first catches our eye.  It's a style that becomes the author's own personal brand.  Stephen King has a voice.  It doesn't matter whether he's writing a novel or a short story, a male or female character, a horror story or a dystopian thriller, his authorial voice comes through.  That's not to say his stories or characters read the same or even sound the same.  They don't.  But there's a certain style and pace to his writing that we come to expect.  His authorial voice.

The authorial voice encompasses many elements of writing, every element really.  It's how an author uses the tools of the craft to tell as story.  In mathematical terms:  V = C + A.  Voice = Craft + Art.  It's more than characters or story- it's how we use the craft to bring our characters and stories to life in our own unique way.

All writers have a voice. Is your voice modern or old-fashioned?  Literary or commercial?  Does your novel read like a science text or a fast-paced thriller?  Is your novel driven by character or plot?  What's the balance between the two?

Here are some things that I've noticed that can really impact authorial voice.

1.  Vocabulary and word choice

Does the writer use the same words over and over?  Does the text read like a SAT verbal test? Is it loquacious?  Simple?  What kinds of words does the author use to describe the world the book takes place in?  Is there slang?  Some authors make up their own slang or words, which can really add the voice of a story.  Scott Westerfeld's use of slang and word choices in his UGLIES series is a great example of how voice can become part of the world-building, and contribute to the enjoyment of a book.

2.  Ratio of dialogue to descriptive passages

A lot of short dialogue sequences will increase the pace, while long descriptive paragraphs slow it down. The balance between dialogue and descriptive passages is an important part of voice.  Do you prefer books with lots of descriptions of settings and people?  Do you like banter and witty dialogue? Do you have some of each on every page of your manuscript?  Should you?  Only you can answer these questions, but for me, I need dialogue in a scene, or I tend to skim.  I can appreciate a gorgeous setting as much as the next person, but I want things to happen fairly quickly.

3.  Length of sentences
 
Some authors write in short sentences.  Or even sentence fragments.  Others have mastered the art of keeping a sentence going, and going; adding clauses and commas to draw out the point. The length of your sentences and how you vary between them is part of your authorial voice.  Too many short sentences is jarring. Too many long sentences, and the reader loses interest.  Here, there is always a need for balance, but the degree of balance may depend on the characters, story and scene.  And of course, your voice.

4.  Use of adjectives and adverbs

Are you prone to flowery adjectives and purple prose?  Do you eschew adverbs and force yourself to use adjectives sparingly? Adverbs have a bad rap in modern day publishing, with adjectives running a close second.  According to some (who?  who are these people?), there is such a thing as over-writing, and the modern school of thought is that active verbs can often take the place of descriptive adverbs, while many adjectives can be eliminated through more careful word choice.  Adverbs and adjectives do have a place in modern publishing, but how and when you use them can impact how people view your voice.

5.  Use of Interior Monologue

A common mistake many writers make is to take the "show, don't tell" school of writing to the extreme, forgetting to put in the character's interior reaction or motivation for doing something.  One of the wonderful aspects of reading is that we can literally experience the main characters thoughts and emotions in a way we can't with theater or film.  Readers need to experience the character's thoughts, feelings and memories. How much and to what extent we get a peek inside your characters' heads is part of voice.
Editor Krista Marino believes that a book's interior monologue is its voice.  At LA SCBWI in August she read some pages from Jennifer Donnelly's REVOLUTION.  First she read the pages as written.  Then she read only the physical descriptions and dialogue, without the character's internal observations, thoughts and feelings about what she was seeing and hearing.  It was much colder and far less engaging.  Try this exercise with a random page from any book.  It's amazing how sterile a story is without the emotions and internal reactions of the narrator in the mix.

6.  Use of Setting

Some authors make such a wonderful use of setting, that the setting becomes its own character in the book.  Think of Hogwarts in the Harry Potter series, the arena in the HUNGER GAMES, and the prison in INCARCERON.  Just the word, Incaceron, evokes a mood and a tone of the story.  THAT is voice.

7.  Use of paragraph breaks

Are there long paragraphs, or even pages without a paragraph break?  Is there a lot of white on the pages.  Is there a new paragraph every sentence?   Like sentence length, the key is variety of some type or another.  Two many long paragraphs in a row and our eyes glaze over.  Too many short snappy dialogue quips and we get bored. 

A standalone sentence for emphasis can create drama.

Too many, and you risk losing your reader's trust. 

8. Use of pacing and plot

Voice impacts whether a book moves fast or slow, and how quickly we solve the stories' problems.  Generally, dialogue, short sentences and short paragraphs will increase pace.  Long paragraphs, with long sentences and lots of discription, slow things down.  But plot can also be an important part of pacing.  Is there tension in every chapter, scene, or page?  Do you have quiet moments for internal reaction and character growth?  Does the story keep moving forward, or does it get stalled or jump off the rails?  Plotting and pacing definitely impact voice.
Do not confuse your authorial voice with character voice.  Each character within the story should have their own voice.  They shouldn't all sound like the author. The character's voice will reflect their individual background, upbringing, interests, socio-economic status, region, education, intelligence, attitudes, and personality traits.  A funny, outgoing main character (think Sophie in HEX HALL) will have a different voice than a lonely, sad one (think lower case Will in WILL GRAYSON, WILL GRAYSON).  A conservative teacher at a posh private school will speak differently from a backwoods mechanic with a sixth grade education. 

You can write all kinds of characters in your story, each with a unique voice, but your authorial voice, the way you choose to tell the story, will probably stay fairly consistent.

What are some things you've noticed that contribute to voice?

As Donna mentioned in her post yesterday, this week the Muses are revisiting some of our favorite blog posts from the past year.  If you've been following us for a while, you'll know it's a kind of a tradition.  We started blogging together in August of 2010, so this is a little anniversary for us.  A way to look back.

I have a difficult time looking back over my own blog posts.  I see a lot of faults in them.  I could have said something differently.  Or my opinion has changed slightly.  Or I (finally) think of a brilliant last line.  I can picture exactly where I was when I wrote them.  In the house, in my life, in my process.  And it's not always pretty.  I don't really have any favorites.

But I'd like to share with you one that I find particularly relevant this week.  Wayyyy back in January, our featured theme was Book 2.  I've been thinking a lot about this recently, because I hit "send" on my final revision of Book 2 yesterday.  And while trawling through old blog posts to find one to upload today, I discovered this:

I'm sure if you ask any published author about the sophomore novel, he will cringe or laugh hysterically or roll his eyes or start to gag and sweat.  It doesn't seem to matter if it's a second stand-alone, the second in a trilogy, a companion novel or the second in a five-book series.  That Book 2 is like the monster in the closet.

The crazy thing is, Book 2 is not my second book.  It's my fourth.  I believe Donna and Veronica can say something similar.  And Talia?  Well, I can't wait to read her post this week.

I suppose there is something about the second book for publication that gets the inner editor working overtime.  It certainly gives my inner procrastinator a full-time job.  Because there is a large degree of fear that accompanies the sophomore novel.

Fear of failure (Book 1 was a fluke. I'm going to disappoint my agent/editor/readers.)

Fear of deadlines (I'll never make it. If I squeeze all the work in, it will be hackneyed and rushed.)

Fear of self. (I'm procrastinating like crazy!)

Fear for characters (I won't do them justice.)

Fear of the business (What if the first book doesn't do well?  What if the series is cancelled? What if I never sell another book and die unloved and alone hugging my single venture to my chest with chocolate-stained hands?)

Fear can be immobilizing. It certainly gives my inner procrastinator a lot of tools to work with.  So every day, I have to move to the edge, look over, cross my fingers and start.  I can't tell you how it will end.  I still don't know.  At some point in 2013, when Book 2 is on the shelves, you'll have to come tell me.  But until then, I have to give my inner procrastinator a run for its money.

Fast Forward - My fears have not changed.  Not in 8 months, not in three revisions, not in all the growth I've undergone as a writer.  I don't know if they ever will.  Perhaps - like waiting or rejection or the roller coaster - it's just part of the life of a writer.  This book was a tough one to write.  And even harder to revise.  Because I wanted to do the characters justice.  It's been wonderful spending time with them.  And I hope - come summer 2013 - you'll feel the same.

Last week, the Muses featured some of our favorite inspiring blog posts from all across the web.  This week, we select our favorite of our own YAMuse blogs to re-post.  Today, as I hit "send" on my draft of the dreaded Book2, this one seemed particularly meaningful...

How to Be An Overnight Sensation in Twenty Years or Less

When people approached me on my recent trip to NYC for BEA to talk to me about my new book, they almost all expressed surprise that SKINNY was my debut novel. Mostly, I just smiled and nodded because, honestly, it was just too hard to explain.

SKINNY is my first novel...that was published.

They didn't know (and I didn't tell them) about the many, many picture book manuscripts, the early reader series, and the two completed young adult novels that didn't sell.  I also didn't tell them I wrote and submitted my first children's manuscript, a picture book, in 1992.

Twenty years ago.

Many times over the years I was close. Dream crushingly close.  I had some small successes.  There were agents...submissions... but, ultimately, rejections.  Lots and lots of rejections. I raged, and then grieved, the really tough ones. I gave up many times. Sometimes for years.

Eventually I picked myself up, applied what I'd learned, and wrote the next thing. It was the writing itself that drew me back.  I wanted to put words on the page.  I wanted to create characters and stories. Maybe I would never be an author, and maybe no one would read it, but I would always be a writer.

So then I wrote the next thing.

And the next.  And the next.

And, eventually, I wrote SKINNY.

Hopefully, I'll write many more publishable novels that connect with readers.  I wish I could say it was easier now.  It isn't.  Perhaps I'm a better writer now, and I've learned much about publishing, but it's never easy to share your heartfelt writing with a larger audience.

If you are in the midst of rejection, you don't want to hear my story. You especially don't want to hear that it might take time and that you might have to face many more setbacks.  At this moment, it's hard to think of the next thing.

That's okay.

Rage.

Then grieve.

Then open up your computer and write something wonderful that never would have come out of you without everything that came before.