The panel is not dead. If Gwenda actually explains what she means by such a ridiculous statement, I’ll explain why she is wrong.
For those of you who do not fritter away countless days of your lives going to science fiction conventions: a panel is a discussion consisting of a few people (usually about five) sitting behind a desk in front of an audience nattering on about something for (usually) an hour.
A number of people have asked if they could see the original photos Scott and me took that were used for the cover for Magic Lessons. Here you go. (The majority of the photos were taken by Scott.)
Camperdown Cemetery is one of my favourite cemeteries anywhere in the world. Enjoy!
Tonight I have managed staying awake until 2:50AM. Well, that is the time at this moment. I am bedward headed, but not quite there yet. (Shelly, I am but a sliver of my former self. Apologies.)
Things I learned at WisCon today (or, er, yesterday):
Robin McKinley and Scott Westerfeld have completely different modes of writing. Scott’s is more sensible, but Robin’s sounds like a whole lot more fun.
Ex-friend Mely might possibly regain friend status. maybe. If Serenity is never mentioned. Ever.
Doselle is the same age as me! And Lauren.
Good wine that costs money is way better than free cheap beer, especially when drunk with the likes of Chris & Gwenda.
Elad is a darling.
Pan Morigan is amazingly talented and, on top of having a divinely gorgeous voice, she can play the accordion!
Pizza at 2AM tastes way better than it actually is.
Sleep is good.
That is really, really all.
It’s 1AM at Wiscon (no, I haven’t bothered to change this blog to Madison time, it’s still on NYC time) and I’m about to go to bed despite the many parties raging on the 6th floor. This is because I am old now, not because I’m avoiding ex-friend Mely and her Serenity keychain of taunt.
Things I learned on the first official day of Wiscon:
Frank Lloyd Wright was crazy.
The cover of Kelly Link’s new book is beautiful.
Pan Morrigan went on tour with Bobby McFerrin and she’s giving a free concert here at WisCon on Saturday at 10:30PM.
Ted Chiang starts stories by writing the last paragraph first.
Maureen McHugh starts at the beginning and has no idea where she’s going until she gets there.
That is all. I am old and must sleep now.
So here I am back in Madison, Wisconsin for the annual feminist sf convention, WisCon. I just figured out that this is my seventh WisCon, while that’s nothing compared to the folks who’ve come here since the very first one way back in the olden days, it’s pretty damned amazing. There’s no other gathering like this of any kind that I’ve been to that many times. Such a committment!
Not only have I been coming here since 1996, I’ve also been actively involved on the convention committee. First organising the academic programming, and for the last few years, the readings programme, (that is organising the writers who want to read their work aloud for the enjoyment of the rest of us). In the hotel car on the way here from the aiport I got to overhear two of my readers discussing their preparation for their reading. (Don’t worry, I’d already outed myself as the person who organised the readings–I wasn’t spying.) One had read her piece out loud more than ten times! She was determined to have it fit the short time allocated to her and have it make sense. Not easy when you’re reading something from a larger piece. I could have hugged her! That’s just what I want my readers to do. Realise that they’ve got an audience, work on their pieces to make sure they’re not too long, or too boring, get them just right. Those two readers had never been to WisCon before and were nervous and excited and I wanted to hug them for that too. There’s nothing like your first WisCon.
And for the first time ever the con hotel (it’s been in the same hotel for a very long time now) has wireless throughout. I ask you is that a good thing? I mean here I am sitting in my hotel room blogging when I could be out enjoying the beautiful day and buying the damn toothpaste we forgot. Well, it did just enable me to do some actual work, ie send off the last essay of Daughters of Earth to Wesleyan Uni Press. A damn fine essay it is too. In fact, the whole collection is so much better than I’d hoped for (and, trust me, my hopes were high!). I feel like hugging all my contributors too. Hell, WisCon makes me want to hug everyone in the whole world and it hasn’t even started yet.
Here’s to another fabulous WisCon and I hope the newbies have as good a time as I know I will.
wiscon
I was once a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan, but then along came season seven which I disliked so much I haven’t been able to watch it since. (Actually that’s a lie. I had to watch it a tonne immediately after the end, in order to wrap up essays on it for Roz Kaveney and Glenn Yeffeth. Talk about painful! Having to watch Buffy while I was in deep mourning for it. Like going to a wedding with your ex immediately after breaking up.)
Anyway, I was very reluctant to go near Firefly. I wasn’t ready for Joss Whedon to break my heart again. I didn’t watch for a very long time, not till it was out on DVD in fact. But once I finally gave in I liked what I saw. It’s uneven, but the very best episodes are amazing. The final one, “Objects in Space”, is one of the finest hours of TV I’ve ever seen. Incredible.
Now the movie version has been playing in sneak previews all over the USA despite the fact that its official release isn’t until September. Too, too cruel. What’s the big deal, anyway? Why torture people like me with this long drawn out preview fest in all parts of the country (except New York City! The bastards!)? And why do all those people who have seen it have to torment those who haven’t by writing about it endlessly (and spoilerishly) all over the web. Why?!
Okay, I go pack now. But I’m just warning everyone at WisCon–if someone tells me even so much as what the opening credits look like or what any of the characters are wearing in any given scene I will disembowel them. Nothing personal, that’s just how it is. Cause unlike certain other people I believe in the concept of spoilerage. I don’t even want to know whether people like it or not!
So I just started this new blog thingie and now I’m going to the “leading feminist science fiction convention in the world” known as WisCon. I’ll be away for a week and I haven’t made up my mind whether to take my computer or not. I’ve taken it in the past and done bugger all work. Anyways I’m unlikely to blog, but you never know.
Here’s my schedule for anyone else who’s going:
Promoting Your Novel
Sunday, 2:30-3:45 p.m. in Senate B
John M Scalzi, James F. Minz, Justine Larbalestier, Eileen Gunn, M: Liz Gorinsky
Everyone knows that the vast majority of published novelists do not get sent on book tours or make appearances on “Oprah” and “Good Morning America.” So what should the rest of us be doing to promote our novels? What are the best ways to let people know our novels exist?
“Rewrite” is a Four-Letter Word
Sunday, 4:00-5:15 p.m. in Conference Room 3
Nisi Shawl, Katya Reimann, Sarah Monette, Laurie J. Marks, Justine Larbalestier
Some folks actually enjoy rewriting; to others it is a painful chore. All agree it’s necessary. What techniques, attitudes, and approaches can lessen the negative aspects and increase the effectiveness of rewriting?
Pretty Magic Butlers of Roanoke
Sunday, 10:00-11:15 p.m. in Conference Room 2
Gwenda Bond, Justine Larbalestier, Scott Westerfeld, Ysabeau Wilce
Young adult fiction comes in many forms. Some of it involves the Pretty Magic Butlers of Roanoke who will read for your pleasure and offer spectacular cookies and prizes. The main prize is a limited edition chapbook (which is absolutely gorgeous) of work by the four of us. Only six exists in the entire world!
The SignOut
Monday, 11:30am-12:45pm in Capitol Room
A whole bunch of writers including me signing their books for you. Also much weary hanging out and gossiping.
Hope to see youse lot in Madison!
Awhile back Gwenda called on me to do this meme thingie. However, my musings are too high-class a location for such low-brow frippery (that’s right, Mely, I mock your mock!). But now that I’m slumming in blogland with the rest of youse . . .
1. The person (or persons) who passed the baton to you.
2. Total volume of music files on your computer.
10.89 GB. Not a tonne . . . Haven’t managed to get done ripping all my cds on account of them all being in Sydney in a storage unit. Sigh. I am missing my seventies Elvis. I surely am. And Buddy Guy & Junior Wells Play the Blues. Double sigh.
3. The title and artist of the last CD you bought.
“Hijos de Culo” by Bersuit Vergarabat. They’re an Argentinian band, bought it last year in Buenos Aires. I adore it. They funny and talented. The title translates as “Children of the Adorable Enchanted Land of Pixies”. Honest.
4. Song playing at the moment of writing.
“This is All” Jay Hawkins.
5. Five songs you have been listening to of late (or all-time favorites, or particularly personally meaningful songs).
Of late, in random order:
“Get Back (Black, Brown and White)” Bill Broonzy–brilliant, brilliant satirical song from the forties. “If you’re white, you’re alright. If you’re brown stick around, but if you’re black: get back, get back.”
“Fallen” K D Lang–her voice. Oh my.
“To Be Good Takes A Long Time” Vika & Linda–I don’t care what they sing, they got the best harmonies going ever. And has anyone even heard of them outside of Australia?!
“Isfahan” Joe Henderson–this one’s on high rotation. It’s so so so beautiful.
“Ojalá” Silvio Rodriguez–can’t hear this song without wanting to cry. Rodriguez does that to me every single time. Such lyrics!
6. The five people to whom you will ‘pass the musical baton.’
I don’t want to offend anyone by not passing such a lovely baton in their direction, so whoever wants it it’s yours, even though it’s kind of old and everyone’s on to the next one of these thingies . . .
I’ve been writing musings here since 25 May 2003. Two years. I’ve written about my childhood, my career, basketball, cricket, and anything else I felt like.
I’ve noticed over the last year that shorter pieces that are more blog-like than musing-like have been increasing in frequency, and also that I say very little about the books I read, or the films and TV I watch, or the shows and exhibitions I see. So I’ve decided to start an actual, real, proper blog where I’ll write about some of that, with proper blogging software and comments and everything. You’ll find it here.
I plan to update it on something like a daily basis. In the same way that musings are added here on somewhat of a weekly basis. And, yes, I plan to keep on musing. Thanks for reading me over the past two years. Hope you enjoy the blog too.
New York City, 25 May 2005
So apparently it’s de rigeur for the first entry of a brand new blog to feature the cover of the blogger’s latest book. I mean, if the blogger in question happens to be a writer with a brand new cover to display to the masses, which this particular blogger does. To wit the cover for the second book in the Magic or Madness trilogy:
Colour me very happy indeed. Aside from anything else, that photo of the tree there? I took it! It’s a moreton bay fig. In fact it’s the fig tree just past the front gates of Camperdown Cemetery in Sydney, which cemetery makes an appearance in both Magic or Madness and Magic Lessons. The photo on the back cover was also taken in the cemetery by Scott. And the fabulous mjcdesign turned those images into a cover of genius. Thank you, Marc J Cohen.
Hope you all like. Hope you also enjoy this my brand spanking new blog. Welcome!
As some of you know I’ve already had a blog of sorts for the last two years. Some people have dubbed it my not-blog blog. Given the classificatory problems of my musings, I decided to be done with it and start an actual blog blog. Here’s how you’ll be able to distinguish it from my musings:
the entries will be completely free of capital letters. That’s right, this is solidly e e cummingsland. even in the comments. and ha ha! nothing you can do about it. I may even do away with full stops and commas (irritating things anyways).
there’ll be discusssion of books, cricket, movies, elvis, basketball, tv and such. opinions will be expressed, but rarely substantiated. there will be no lit crit. i was once an academic and my days of lit critting and footnotes are far behind me (anyways i was always more of an historian). this is a blog damn it! my blog! if I say so then it is so!
There’ll be comments, but disagreement will not be brooked, unless, you know, it’s funny, or well written, or in some other way cool and interesting. Hmm, come to think of it the same rules apply to agreement.
Enjoy! I plan to.
I’ve had a number of emails on the agent question, some from folks wondering how the search is going, wishing me luck or offering advice, and others wondering what on earth it is agents do anyway.
Thanks for the advice and agent suggestions and all the good wishes. Much appreciated. Here’s the answer to the two questions:
1) How’s the search going?
Not too foul. Nice lunches have been consumed, meetings have been held, there has been much talk of the future, of our careers, where we want to be headed and how best to get there. I’m starting to get a little weary of saying the same things over and over (Make me a star! Give me a career like Philip Pullman’s!). But fortunately the agents we’ve been meeting have been less tedious. Each one has been different and not one of them has been even a tiny bit creepy. I don’t know about you, but I’ve long been brainwashed by Hollywood into thinking all agents are unscrupulous and evil. Though, come to think of it, those were mostly Hollywood agents.
None of the seven agents we’ve met have done anything to get themselves crossed off the list: they’re all smart, interesting and fun to hang out with. I’m hoping I get to stay friends with the ones I don’t choose. (I wonder what the etiquette on that is? Christopher?) Every single one of them has met all eight items on my list. They all take the same percentage, offer the same services, go to the same important book fairs around the world. The more agents I meet the harder making a decision becomes. So I’ve decided that I’ll go with the agent who loves my adult novel (an historical set in twelfth century Cambodia) and my young adult books. That should narrow down the field some!
2) What on earth does an agent do to earn that fifteen per cent?
They act as a bulwark between you and your publisher. I negotiated my contract with Penguin/Razorbill myself, which was really awkward because Eloise Flood, Razorbill’s publisher, is a good friend. I don’t ever want to be in the position of bargaining with a friend again. An agent won’t be embarrassed about asking for more money, or to keep control of the movie rights, or the foreign rights, or whatever it is you want.
And your agent should know to ask for stuff you didn’t even realise you wanted. Agents have been negotiating with editors for longer than you. They know what scary clauses in a contract have to be crossed out. They know which publishers will do what for which writers and thus how to get you a better deal. Hell, agents understand contracts which already puts them a long way ahead of me. My eyes glaze over before I’ve hit the end of page one. (In my defence: contract pages are really long.)
A good agent knows which editors are actively hunting for which kind of books. They know who’d be right for you at all the major houses and most of the boutiquey, hip ones too. It’s their job to know all this. It’s a lot harder for a writer to be up on all that stuff, thus unagented books typically don’t get seen by as many editors and don’t get as good a deal.
If your publisher does something you’re unhappy with a good agent can fix it for you, or at least find out what’s going on and smooth things over. Just having someone run interference can be worth the 15% alone. Sometimes your publisher want to change the terms of the contract by, say, cutting one book into two, or publishing a book in paperback when they’d said it was going to be hardcover (neither of which has happened to me). That’s when you need to have someone who’s got your back to talk to, figure out how best to handle it, and then, best of all, go handle it for you.
Not only do agents understand contracts, they also understand royalty statements, which have to be the most incomprehensible things I’ve ever struggled and failed to understand. Trust me, I’ve really really tried, because your royalty statement is the statement that tells you how well your book is doing. They’re important! A good agent can spot when they don’t make sense, figure out what happened, and extract the outstanding money from your publisher. Useful, eh?
They also take you out to lunch at yummy restaurants and gossip with you. Yeah, yeah, I have friends I do that with too, but a) they don’t pay, and b) they’re not your agent so it’s not nearly as cool. "La, la, la, here I am at this fancy pants restaurant with my fancy pants agent. Look at me!"
To sum up: having an agent is all about looking cool.
New York City, 23 May 2005
I recently parted ways with my agent. It was very amicable. She was, and is, a wonderful person, a great agent and a good friend. I’d have no qualms recommending her. She’s dedicated, smart and very good at what she does. But for all sorts of reasons it didn’t work out. So now I’m looking for a new agent.
Gulp. Much much easier said than done.
First of all there’s the researching, asking people in publishing—writers, editors, publishers, publicists etc. etc—about all the agents they know. Who does what? Who’s looking for new clients? Who handles Young Adult? Adult fiction? Both? Genre? Non-fiction? Who has a client list that I’d fit in with? Then there’s approaching them and seeing if they’re interested. Then meeting them. Then deciding who to go with.
Fortunately I’m not doing this alone. Scott is also in the hunt for a new agent. He’s gone agentless for several years and has decided that it’s time to have someone else take care of the parts of being a writer he’s least fond of (negotiating deals, checking contracts etc. etc.) and that it’s worth giving 15% away to have them do it. Even though we mightn’t go with the same agent, we decided to look together so that we could compare gut reactions, and point out cool career achievements the other one forgot to mention. "Scott just won an Aurealis." "Justine just got nominated to the BBYA list." (Always easier to have someone else toot your horn for you.)
While deciding which agents to approach we put together a list of what we wanted from an agent. Here’s mine (Scott’s was a lot less mushy):
Someone who
Not that huge a list really, and yet . . . It’s such a strange relationship, that of agent and writer. Some end up being psychologist, social worker, mother, father, editor and banker to their clients as well as everything I listed. I don’t want any of that. I got plenty of people in those roles already! But I do want someone I feel is looking out for me and will fight to protect my 85% as much as their 15%.
So ever since we got back to NYC we’ve been meeting with agents. All of whom have been lovely. Seriously, we haven’t met a one we haven’t liked. Still I’m not sure that liking your agent is the most important aspect of this particular relationship. My previous agent was the first agent to ask me. At the time I was unpublished and had been knocked back by the two agents I’d approached (one in Sydney, one in NYC) and could not believe my luck. It’s much much much harder getting an agent when you’re unpublished. It turned out that I liked her a tonne, but even so that wasn’t enough for our agent/writer relationship to be what we both wanted it to be.
The meetings, mostly lunches, have been very very weird. It’s like a first date except that . . . actually, no except, it’s exactly like a first date, right down to them bringing you a present (not flowers—much better than that—books! which is how I got to read Holly Black’s brilliant and amazing Valiant so early). It’s awkward and tense and exhausting. Just like a first date you’re wondering whether they like you, whether you like them, whether you’ll be good together, whether this has a future. You’re analysing everything they say and don’t say. Why did they pick this particular restaurant? Why this part of town? Why did they dress that way? Should you have dressed this way?
Still, it’s early days, we have the whole summer to decide and already we’ve both met an agent we’d definitely feel more than comfortable with. We both have high hopes it’ll work out okay.
In the meantime, if anyone out there who is an agent, or has an agent, has any thoughts on this peculiar, yet incredibly important relationship in a writer’s life I’d love to hear from you.
Wish us luck in our search!
New York City, 12 May 2005
Scott’s website relaunched last night with a (mostly) whole new look. And guess what? We did it all by ourselves! Deborah Biancotti, who designed this site and the Midnighters section of Scott’s site, was too busy to do it, so we did it. Scott came up with a design, showed it to me, and I used my puny Dreamweaver skills to turn it into a reality that had a passing resemblance to what he wanted. And I think it looks pretty much okay. Yay us!
Of course, when I say we did it all by ourselves I stretch the truth somewhat. Deborah Biancotti answered my Dreamweaver questions every time I got stuck. What a fabulous person she is! And Chris McLaren was my WordPress guru, because Scott now has his very own blog which he’ll be updating on a near daily basis. If he manages it’ll be damned impressive. Remember this is a guy who still has two novels to write and turn in this year.
So for the past few weeks Scott has been writing great swathes of new content. I particularly enjoy his News section which has a potted (and very wry) history of his entire publishing career going back to 1996. Naturally enough it also includes the latest news like the fact that the Uglies trilogy just sold at auction in Japan! Yup, there’s going to be Japanese editions of all three books. There are also pages for his vampire book, Peeps, which will be out in September and, also for the Uglies trilogy.
Meanwhile I’ve been learning way more about Dreamweaver than I knew before and am now busily learning all about Cascading Style Sheets. Gulp. Who knows, some day soon I may even be brave enough to tackle doing some of the stuff Petey’s suggested I do.
Enjoy Scott’s new site and blog.
New York City, 12 May 2005
I’m finally back in New York City. My brain has at last caught up with my body. This weekend we went to the first Liberty game of the season. Well, okay, not first of the season because the season proper doesn’t start for a week or two. First game of the pre-season. (Nope, this stuff doesn’t makes any sense to me either.) The Liberty played great. Up against last year’s WNBA champions, the Seattle Storm, we won! And we didn’t just win, we did it convincingly, spending most of the game at least five points ahead. They were a gazillion inches taller than us, totally outrebounded us, and we won the game with solid defence. Happiness. (No, I don’t care that it was only a pre-season game and thus doesn’t count.)
The Artemis Fowl and Co. ("Co." being me and Scott) event was fab. Its fabulousness was clear from the very beginning when the praise monster (all hail!) manifested itself in the form of Peter Glassman, the owner of Books of Wonder, who greeted me with the most amazingly effusive gush about my book, which he was three-quarters of the way through reading. I caught the words "brilliant" and "writing" in close proximity to each other. Blush.
The event consisted of me and Scott doing a short reading from Magic or Madness and Midnighters 1: The Secret Hour respectively. I read the scene where Reason steps through the door from the summer of Sydney to the winter of New York City and sees snow for the first time; Scott read the scene from the first Midnighters book where Jessica discovers the blue time and rain for the first time. We hadn’t planned to read such similar scenes. Actually until we read them out loud side by side we hadn’t realised they were similar. (For those wondering, that would be me plagiarising Scott.)
Eoin Colfer didn’t read from any of his books, instead he told a very funny story about why you shouldn’t tease six year olds, even if they do have big heads, not all their teeth, and in their swimming goggles resemble Golem from Lord of the Rings. He also explained in detail how "hurling" and "jumper" don’t mean the same thing in Ireland as they do in the US. This gave me an excellent later segue to promote my book as educational because it has a glossary of Australian English at the back.
Next there was Q & A. All the questions but one were asked by the actual demographic of our books. This was very exciting for me because I spend a great deal of time thinking and talking about children’s and young adult literature, but almost always with adults, hardly ever with the people for whom it is written. My first and only question was the first asked: "Is there really no snow in Australia?" To which I answered that yes there is, just not a lot, and mostly in places like the Snowy Mountains and Tasmania. It’s very easy to grow up in Australia without ever seeing it.
Scott’s one question came towards the end, "When is the third Midnighters book coming out?" You’ll find the answer here. All the other questions were for Eoin and they were all asked by kids (mostly boys) who displayed an intimate knowledge of his books and a huge thirst for more: there were many variations on the when-is-the-next-book-coming-out and will-there-be-more-books-in-the-series questions. For a writer those are very sweet indeed.
After the questions were all asked, the astoundingly large audience (given that it was mother’s day) formed a very long queue and we signed lots and lots of books. This was a big surprise because frankly I was expecting to sign at most four or five books (for my friends who came: Hey Liesa! Hey Eloise! Hey Tui! Hey Barry! Hey Will & Alice!), but for over an hour there was a steady trickle of people I didn’t know who wanted me to sign for them. Astounding! Wonderful! Happy making! Most of my signees were girls who looked incredibly young—twelve at the very most. One of them had already started reading my book and was impatient for me to hurry up and sign it so she could get back to reading. Happy sigh.
Next to me all the Midnighters fans had emerged to get Scott to sign their books and ask why they had to wait such a long, long, long, time for the next Midnighters book? And why were there only going to be three books? Scott was able to placate them by pointing to Uglies, and So Yesterday as possible substitutes while they waited.
Eoin (turns out it’s pronounced "Owen" not "Ian" as I had guessed—oops!) Colfer signed and signed and signed and signed. He was charming, entertaining, and wonderful with his fans, spending time chatting to every single one. There were a lot of them and most seemed to have every book he’d ever written, held in teetering stacks supported only by their small, wee, tiny, little hands. In fact, one kid came up to Scott and me after having his mountainous pile of Colfer books signed: he let out a weary sigh, slid our books onto the table, asked that we sign in exhausted tones, and explained that his back hurt from carrying so many books.
Quite a few of the kids who’d come to see Eoin Colfer also wound up buying Scott’s and my books. When the event was over we gave Peter a list of all the other writers we’d be more than happy to do an event with: Diana Wynne-Jones, Ursula Le Guin, Garth Nix, Phillip Pullman, J. K. Rowling, Jonathan Stroud etc. etc.
In the pauses between people wanting me to sign, I signed for Books of Wonder. First the lovely staff brought about thirty books, which I duly signed. Then they took those away and brought thirty more, which I also signed, expressing surprise at how many there were. "Oh," Sarah said, "these are the mail-order books. There are plenty more. We haven’t even got up to the store stock yet. I love your book, we’ve been handselling it like you wouldn’t believe." Were ever sweeter words heard from the mouth of a bookseller? A brief pause while yours truly blushed, coughed, and thanked Sarah profusely, then returned to signing. I have never signed so many books in my life. I loved it!
Another huge thrill was meeting Cassandra Claire. She’s just gotten a big, prestigious, three-book deal, agented by Barry Goldblatt, but much more importantly Cassie is the author of The Secret Diary of Aragorn Son Of Arathorn (and other secret diaries) which was circulating all over the internet a few years back and completely cracked me up every time someone sent it to me, which they did a lot. It continues to crack me up every time I think of the phrase "still not king". It was grouse being able to thank her in person and to sign a copy of Magic or Madness for her. Cassie Claire bought my book!
Oh, and Eoin Colfer showed me the worm in his eye ball which is exquisitely gross. I want one too!
It were a good weekend.
New York City, 9 May 2005
This Sunday, Mother’s Day, I believe (hi, Jan!), me and Scott Westerfeld and Eoin Colfer (!) will be doing an event at Books of Wonder, the children’s book shop on 18 W. 18th St New York, NY (cross street: Fifth Avenue). We’ll be there from 1PM to 3PM. The event’s free and it’ll be fun—if you’re in the area come join us.
For those of who don’t know, Eoin Colfer is one of the best-known, best-selling, and popular writers of children’s books around. His Artemis Fowl books have put him up there with Lemony Snickett, Holly Black & Tony DiTerlizzi, Garth Nix and Jonathan Stroud. Exalted company indeed. It’s quite the honour for a total beginner in the genre like me to be on the same billing. Here’s hoping I’ll be able to impress one or two of Colfer’s legion of fans enough that they’ll want to check out my book. Fingers crossed and gulp.
I can’t tell you exactly what we’ll be doing because I’m not entirely sure. Books of Wonder events are varied and as the name of the shop would suggest—wonderful. I’ve seen writers and artists do short readings, discuss their books, their children, their life, interrogate their readers in the audience, draw the audience, answer questions, juggle and tap dance (okay, I may have made up the last two). I’m hoping this Sunday will be more of a laid-back chatting thing. I have no problems gasbagging about Magic or Madness, but for some reason I get very nervous when I’m asked to read from it. Nope, I don’t understand it either. I’m sure Eoin Colfer has no such problems, and I know Scott doesn’t. And this recent article full of advice on how to read in public has only made me more nervous.
Books of Wonder is my favourite bookshop in New York City. It’s huge, beautiful, full of books I’ve read or want to read, the staff know their stuff and are sweethearts. The shop is owned by Peter Glassman who has an encyclopediac knowledge of children’s literature and does his level best to read everything new that comes out. An impossible task, but if anyone gets close it’s him (or Joe Monti the children’s and YA book buyer for Barnes and Noble).
One of the things I love best about Peter and his wonderful shop, is the way they support writers. Books of Wonder has an event two or three times a week for most of the year. If you live anywhere near NYC, or you’re visiting, and you have even a slight interest in childrens and YA books you have to visit. And if you’re not being showered (or showering your mother) with presents and attention this Sunday why not stop by around 1PM?
See you there!
New York City, 6 May 2005
Pardon me while I geek out about the diversity of the English language.
One of the cool things about writing a trilogy populated by Australian and US characters, and attempting to use both vernaculars, has been coming across differences between Australian and US English. Yesterday, while defining "bitumen" for the glossary of Magic Lessons, I learned that not only do USians not know what "bitumen" is, they don’t call a road made from bitumen a "sealed" road. I don’t know why but it had never occurred to me that a sealed road could be called anything but a sealed road. Apparently they call them paved roads. Huh.
This is weird to an Australian because "paving" is something you do to garden paths, or around swimming pools, not to roads or streets. Unless they’re made of cobble stones and frankly, I’ve not come across many cobblestoned streets in Australia.
Here’s the Macquarie Dictionary (Australia’s premier dictionary—I adore it) definition of "sealed road": a bituminised road. (That’ll explain everything to a bewildered USian.) And of "pavement": 1. a walk or footway, especially a paved one, at the side of a street or road. 2. a surface, ground covering, or floor made by paving.
Naturally enough, Webster’s and the American Heritage Dictionary don’t have a definition of "sealed road". But here’s how the American Heritage defines "pavement": 1.a A hard smooth surface, especially of a public area or thoroughfare, that will bear travel.
Not the same are they? To "pave" something in the US can include laying out asphalt on a road. The Maquarie Dictionary definition of "to pave" is you have to be laying out tiles, stones, bricks, the stuff that we refer to as "paving". It took many minutes of incomprehension between me and Scott before we sorted it.
I also had a US character say, "He wants in to the house". My editor queried it. I didn’t understand what the problem was, so I asked Scott, who changed it to "Looks like he wants to get into the house." To my ears that sounds too formal, but apparently in US English "to want in" can only mean that you want to be included, as in "Jo wants in on that bank robbery". In Aussie English "wanting in" can mean both wanting to be included and wanting to be (literally) inside.
At one point another of my US characters said that they were "made to go" there. Once again my editors cranked out the red pen, and once again I was confused. Turns out that to a USian if you say that you were "made to" do something, it means that you were created for the purpose of doing that thing, not that you were forced to do it. In Australian English we have both meanings, so that "I was made to write the first great Australian, feminist, monkey knife-fighting, cricket & Elvis novel" can mean either that you were created for the purpose of writing such a novel (which I was) or that that you were forced to write it (which I could be if someone would pony up the dosh).
I also learned that US English doesn’t include "a dog’s breakfast", "demountables", or "unco". Which made me sad for US English, until I remembered some of their great words and expressions, such as "write me", "geek out", "sketchy" and my all-time favourite: "discombobulate". Best word ever!
New York City, 2 May 2005
Yes, this site was down for almost forty-eight hours and my jlATjustinelarbalestier.com address with it. Yes, I was tearing my hair out. And my beloved stats took quite a dip (sob). If any important mail to me was returned, you can resend now.
Even without the whole site going off air, you’ll have noticed I haven’t been musing a whole lot of late. And if you’re a mate, you’ll notice I haven’t been so great about email. I’ve been deadline busy, volunteer work busy, and travelling far too much. This month things should calm down and I should be able to catch up on my life.
Now, back to the (possibly) final round of rewrites on Magic Lessons: they’re due tomorrow!
New York City, 1 May 2005
