An interesting question

Ally asks:

Justine, I was wondering what you would do in a situation like this:

“As some of you may have heard, my partial draft of Midnight Sun was illegally posted on the Internet and has since been virally distributed without my knowledge or permission or the knowledge or permission of my publisher.”—Stephenie Meyer

Since I don’t really write or anything I don’t know what I would do. Would it bum you out to where you couldn’t write it anymore or would you just ignore it and keep going?

I’d be very unhappy and hurt that someone had betrayed my trust like that. I recently sent my most recent novel, Why Do I Lie?, to a bunch of people for comments—if they’d passed it on to other people to read I would be furious. That’s an enormous violation of trust.

As for what I’d do in that situation? It’s very difficult for me to say. I’m not Stephenie Meyer. It’s really unlikely an unfinished ms. of mine would wind up online and widely circulated. I don’t have anywhere near her fan base.

I can definitely imagine the whole thing souring me on the book. On the other hand, I really like to finish what I’ve started. Not to mention that my manuscripts tend to change a lot after I’ve finished the first draft. So what was distributed would not bear much resemblance to the final book.

I certainly feel a great deal of sympathy towards Meyer. That situation sucks.

Wishes

I’m lying awake with a nasty case of bunker brain. Sleep eludes and weird thoughts intrude. I’m trying to combat them by

    a) planning some fun ways to promote How To Ditch Your Fairy—so far the winning plan is to glue copies of the book to the backs of toilet doors—and,

    b) trying to figure out how to describe the smell of flying foxes without using the words “musk” or “feral”.

Also I’m wishing I could draw.

How about you?

Famous in their own country

The responses to my post about gender-directed1 reading reminded me that I’ve been meaning to post about authors who are famous in their own country but not that well known outside it. Specifically, a bunch of you were aghast that anyone could dismiss Flannery O’Connor as “lightweight”. I suspect the reason the lecturer did so—you know, other than him being a dick—was that he probably hadn’t heard of her. O’Connor is not nearly as well-known in Australia as she is in the USA. Angela Carter, on the other hand, he’d most definitely heard of her.2 She’s much better known in Australia than she is here.

One of the pleasant shocks of coming to the USA was discovering how many of its writers I had never heard of. I knew that there were many many Australian writers and artists and musicians USians had never heard of. But I had not realised that the reverse was true. For instance, I had never heard of Shirley Jackson.3 Shocking, but true. I know what you’re thinking. How is that even possible? But imagine the joy of discovering such a genius of a writer when I’d thought I knew all the good USian ones.4

I remember distinctly the first time I heard about Jackson. It was at an sf convention in the bar. A bunch of writers were talking about the first time they read “The Lottery” and the impact it had on them and their writing. When I admitted as to how I had no idea what they were talking about they flat out didn’t believe me. I was accused of lying. None of those USians could get it through their heads that you can get through your schooling without ever being made to read “The Lottery.” In Australia, millions of us have managed exactly that.

They also found it difficult to credit that a wannabe genre writer had managed not to read the writer that one of them described as the single biggest influence on 20th century genre writing.5 That statement of course led to a huge argument that encompassed the entire bar. As cases were made for Tolkien, Heinlein, and sundry others.

While it was going on I retreated to the dealers’ room and picked up a copy of The Lottery and Other Stories, the reading of which put me in the Shirley-Jackson-is-one-of-the-greatest-writers-of-the-20th-century camp. I love her. If one day I write a story or novel halfway as good as her best then, well, WOW.6

The Shirley Jackson thing was a revelation to me. I had assumed that Australians get hit with all things USian. All your tv shows, books, movies, comics, games etc etc. All my life, the assumption and fear that US culture is taking over Australia has been strong. So discovering that it wasn’t true, that the US of A is so much more than the stream of books, TV, movie, and music that make it into the Australian marketplace was delightful. It heartened me. It still does. There is no country in the world whose culture is so dominant that everyone else knows all their famous artists. Not a one.

Wherever you go in the world you will discover new and wonderful things. Even in the United States of America. Hell, if the work of Shirley Jackson is anything to go by, then maybe especially in the USA.

  1. Blog Overlord: What a pretty neologism, Justine.
    JL: Why, thank you!
    BO: Um, Justine, I was being sarcastic. Really sarcastic.
    JL: Well, you can rack off then, can’t you?
    BO: Not really. I’m Blog Overlord.
    JL: I hired you. I can also fire you.
    BO: Whatever. That “word” still sucks. [↩]
  2. Though I very much doubt he’d actually read her. To tell the truth, after a few lectures from that bloke I started to doubt he could read at all. [↩]
  3. Or Joyce Carole Oates, Dawn Powell, and Eudora Welty. [↩]
  4. Wow, was I wrong about that! [↩]
  5. It was still the 20th Century when this conversation was happening. [↩]
  6. I tell you Stephanie-Rice speak is contagious. [↩]

FAQ updated + good news

Thanks to everyone for all the questions. I have now updated the FAQ by incorporating the new quessies and dividing it into four sections:

Personal
Writerising
Magic or Madness Trilogy
How To Ditch Your Fairy

If you have more questions feel free to ask them over there.

There are spoilers in the MorM FAQ but they are at the bottom under a spoiler warning. There are no How To Ditch Your Fairy spoilers. Aren’t I good to you people?

Speaking of which, I just found out that HTDYF is a Junior Library Guild selection. This is quite the honour as they have a reputation for picking books that go on to be award-winners and bestsellers. If you look through their book selections you’ll recognise many fabulous books.

There was also a gorgeous new review over on the Ravenous Reader Reviews. I’ve never had so many reviews and comments and fan mail about a book before it was even published. I could get used to this!

Though publication is very soon: 16 September in the US of A. That’s nearly almost two weeks away!

Not liking a good book

I just read a book that’s been getting rapturous reviews. It is every bit as beautifully written as advertised. There were whole paragraphs that were very WOW inducing.1 I loved parts of it and not just because they were about cricket.2 But I did not enjoy this book.

I will break my usual procedure and name the book: Netherland by Joseph O’Neill. I’m naming it because it really is gorgeously written. Seriously, it’s stunning. O’Neill deserves the reviews he’s been getting. I think many people will love it. Hell, many people are loving it. I’m writing this to figure out why it didn’t work for me.

The book’s a realist fictional take on the after effects of 9/11 on a marriage, on the narrator, on the city of NYC, centring around the narrator’s experience playing cricket and getting involved with a shady cricket-obsessed entrepreneur. I loved the descriptions of cricket as well as the discussions of the game and why USians don’t get it. I also loved the sequence in which the narrator attempts to get a NY driver’s license. It’s a deliciously funny and accurate description of city bureaucracy.

Yet, other than those glorious parts, Netherland bored me. I found myself skimming, looking for the next mention of cricket.3 I was not engaged by the passive drifting narrator. Worse, I didn’t care about him. I didn’t care about his marriage. I was bored rigid by his reminiscences about his past. He is so distanced from his life, so flat, that he seemed passionless about everything.

But my biggest problem was that there was no discernible plot. Over the course of 250 pages all the dramatic events happen offstage. The more I read the more frustrated I became. Perhaps, though, that’s the same problem: Because I was uninterested—and eventually came to dislike the narrator—I could not look past the lack of plot.

I love Knut Hamsun’s Hunger. It has no plot. It’s about a poor writer stumbling around a city starving. That’s the entire book. What could be more boring? I love that book. There’s way less plot in Hunger than Netherland.

Come to think of it, the likability of the narrator is not that big a deal. The narrator of Hunger isn’t likable. I can think of lots of protags I don’t like, but who are immensely engaging. My problem with Hans is not that I didn’t like him, it’s that I found him and his life boring. Almost every other character in the book is more interesting than Hans and yet it’s his head we’re stuck in.

I tried very hard to like Netherland. I can’t remember the last time I disliked a book that was as good as this one. I suspect quite a few of you will like it. Do ignore me and give it a go!

Have any of you experienced this? Read a book that you didn’t like despite being able to see that it’s really really good?

Note: I have now left the bunker but bits of the bunker are still lodged in my brain. It may be a while yet before I catch up on the crazy email backlog. Or my life. Or anything really.

  1. Imagine Stephanie Rice saying, “Wow!!!” [↩]
  2. I just gave away what book I’m talking about, didn’t I? [↩]
  3. Yes, I’m shallow. [↩]

Tallying Olympic Medals

The official method of figuring out who “won” the Lymps is to count who won the most gold, in which case China comes first with 51, and the USA comes second with 36. The USA, however, reckons the combined total is a better method on account of they won 110 medals altogether, while China only won 100.

If you use the first method Australia came sixth; if you use the second we came fifth.

Personally I think the most revealing way to look at the total is in terms of population and GDP. Both of which you can find at this handy site.1

Population

1. Jamaica

2. Bahrain

3. Dominica Republic

4. Mongolia

5. Estonia

6. New Zealand

7. Georgia

8. Australia

9. Norway

10. Slovakia

(USA comes 33rd and China 47th out of the 87 who won medals.)

Australia remains a top ten nation but the truly outstanding effort of places like Jamaica are underlined. They won 6 gold medals with a population of less than 3 million. That’s less than the population of Sydney. Pretty amazing, eh?

GDP

1. North Korea

2. Jamaica

3. Mongolia

4. Georgia

5. Ethiopia

6. Kenya

7. Belarus

8. Zimbabwe

9. Bahrain

10. Panama

(Australia comes in 29th, China 30th and the USA 47th.)

I like this table a lot because it illustrates just how much money it takes to be a top-ten Olympic nation. The US and China and Australia and the other top ten nations in the official list have much bigger GDPs than many of the other medal winners. Winning medals without massive amounts of funding and Insititutes of Sports is an amazing achievement.

I am much more proud that the one openly gay male participant in the Olympics, gold-medal winning diver Matthew Mitcham, is Australian than I am of how many medals we won. Watching him win live was my highlight of the Lymps. The Australian coverage of his win was fabulous. I loved that a photo of him kissing his partner was printed in the Sydney Morning Herald. Ten years ago I doubt that would have happened. Here’s hoping in another ten years it will be so ordinary it won’t occur to me to blog about it.

  1. Their figures are taken from wikipedia so I suspect there are some inaccuracies. [↩]

Answering questions

A while back I said I was updating the FAQ and please to ask me questions. And then I didn’t answer any of them. On account of book to write and blah blah blah.

But I’ve had a nudge from Certain Important Parties about the out of dateness of the FAQ and, erm, it’s been moved up the priority list. So here are at last are the answers:1

Gina asks, How do you write a novel? you said in another post that you have changed how you write them.

Tricky question! The short answer is: Scrivener. I promise that in the future I will answer in more detail. But it involves writing scenes out of order rather than from beginning to end. The book I just finished was written pointillist style.

Anon asks, Whats it like living in 2 countries?

(For those who don’t know, me and Scott spend half the year in Sydney, where I’m from, and half in NYC, where Scott has lived the majority of his life.)

Living in two places is most excellent. I have two sets of friends. Two sets of favourite restaurants. Two sets of everything really. When it’s six months at home and then six months in New York City I rarely get homesick and nor does Scott. Works out pefectly. Also lots of summer. I love me some summer.

Ariel Zeitlin Cooke asks, Will there be another book set in the MORM world? Will there be another book set in the HTDYF world? Have you ever written non-fantasy? (And then you can talk about the new one) What other books do you recommend?

At the moment I have no ideas for more books set in the Magic or Madness world or in the How To Ditch Your Fairy world. That doesn’t mean I won’t get some great idea later on. But right now the next few books I have planned have nothing to do with those worlds.

Why, yes, Ariel, I have written a non-fantasy book. I finished it just this week as it happens. It’s called, Why Do I Lie? and is set in New York City. It’s told from the point of view of a compulsive liar and involves a murder. I think it is the best book I have written. But then I think that of every book I’ve just finished the first draft of.

Everyone must read The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov and Flowers in the Attic by V. C. Andrews. For very different reasons.

Diana Peterfreund asks, You seem to be drawn to very unusual names for your characters: Reason, Jay-Tee, and now Charlie and Fiorenze. I know you’ve talked about the story behind “Reason,” but what about the new books? Also, how did you come up with the idea for personal fairies? And why do you love Elvis so much?

Charlie’s not an unusual name! The names in How To Ditch Your Fairy come from two sources: 1. Famous sports people, 2. I borrowed them from teenagers I met doing appearances in libraries, schools and book shops in Australia and the USA.

I answered the question of how I came up with the idea for How To Ditch Your Fairy here. Is good story because I have good friends. If you are a writer it is best to have many friends for they are much goodness in the giving of ideas.

I think the question should be Why doesn’t everyone love Elvis? The story of the genesis of my Elvis love is here.

hillary! asks: And sports? Why do you love sports so much? And what’s your favorite color? and what type of car do you have, if you have one, if not, what kind would you like? Do you want a chimpanzee or a monkey or a teacup piglet?

Again the question is Why doesn’t everyone love sport? Explaining my love of sport is like explaining my love of breathing or eating. Without air and food and sport living is impossible.

All colours are good colours. Except vomit yellow.

I do not drive. I have never learned how. I dislike cars. I think they are the worst invention of all time and responsible for untold carnage. Not just to all the people killed in and by them but for making us so dependent on oil. I wish cars did not exist. Our world would be in much better shape. We need to switch to bicycles and horses. And airships. Transmat beams would also be most excellent.

I want no pets or teacups of any kind. I travel too much to have a pet. (Though if I could have one it would be a quokka.) Also I don’t drink tea.

Patrick asks, Have you ever played organized basketball?

Briefly in primary school. I have never excelled at team sports. I, um, don’t take direction well.

Liset says, I think in your FAQs you should write more about your marriage, I know it’s extremely personal but I find it so interesting! (way more than any celeb couple!)

The truth is Scott and me aren’t actually married. We don’t even live in the same flat or country even. We just thought it would be excellent publicity if we pretended we were two married writers in the same field. Sadly, it has generated almost no publicity. We should have pretended to be monkeys instead. Next time!

Benjamin Rosenbaum asks, What do you feel is the essence of inspired play in the loose in fifteen-man rugby? In the scrum? The line-out?

I have no opinions about rugby. Or league for that matter. I have nothing against them either. But I live in perpetual summer. They are not summer sports. Thus I never see them.

Lizabelle asks, What’s your favourite place in Sydney (apart from the cemetery in Newtown)?

There are so many! But right now—other than my parents’ house—it’s the Botanical Gardens.

Brittany asks, The devil books, must they be typed and submitted in a particular format? Or is standard Times New Roman 12pt Single spaced ok?

One of the nice things about being a published author is that I submit my books electronically. Thus the font I use is irrelevant. The publisher can change it. When you’re unpublished and having to submit paper it’s best to stick to the industry standard stuff: double spaced, readable font, single-sided, etc.

For those wondering why Brittany asks about “devil books” it is because of this post where I say that books are teh devil, which they are.

Feel free to ask more questions. Is there anything you’re burning to know? It doesn’t have to be about me. In fact questions that aren’t about me are more fun. Though, um, Certain Important Parties would prefer the quessies be about me and my books. But, honestly, how boring is that? Very!

  1. That’s right. You need to know nothing more. From this point on you have all knowledge necessary! [↩]

Girl books, boy books

Once again Sherwood Smith is being dead interesting. This time about people who read only books by girl writers or only by boy writers. The comments are also fascinating.

Most of my life I have read more books by women than by men. This was true even when I was first reading. Enid Blyton, L. M. Montgomery, and Rosemary Sutcliffe were my first favourites. A little later on I was mad keen on Georgette Heyer, Tanith Lee, and Ursula K. Le Guin.

I did not notice this tendency until it was pointed out to me in high school by a boy. “Why do you always read such girly books?” he asked with a sneer. I was reading Angela Carter when he said this, who’s not exactly the girliest writer I can think of. As a result I shifted from accidentally reading mostly women to doing it on purpose.

This position was strengthened by my experiences as an undergraduate at university. The only courses that included books by women were the ones on Austen and Bronte. When I asked why a course on twentieth century fiction included nothing by women the lecturer challenged me to name books by women worthy of being on his list. I suggested books by Angela Carter, Isak Dinesen, Flannery O’Connor, and Jean Rhys. The lecturer dismissed all of them as lightweight.1

Dear Blog Readers, I was cranky. I didn’t voluntarily read another book by a boy for a whole year or maybe it was six months. Or it could have been until I discovered the fabulous novels of Jim Thompson. Can’t remember now.

I also started to notice that almost every bloke I knew only read books by men. That this notion that women’s books are lightweight was widespread amongst those of the male persuasion. For many it still seems to be true. When male authors are asked their favourite books they overwhelming name books by their own gender. To such an extent that I keep note of the ones who name women. Such as Garth Nix (big Heyer fan), Kim Stanley Robinson (Virginia Woolf fantatic), and Sean Stewart (Jane Austen obsessive).2

Women are far more mixed in their reading. Even me. I read way more books by women than by men, but I’ve still read a tonne of boy books. Some of there are even quite good. I’d even recommened them to my little sister. Maybe . . .

What about youse lot? Do you notice a tendency one way or the other in your own reading? Do you have idea why? Or do you just read the books that look cool. If so: Bless!

  1. Just as well I didn’t mention out-and-out commercial writers like Heyer or Dunnett, eh? Doesn’t matter that they’re geniuses, does it? They’re women and they write commercial fiction. Oh, the horror! [↩]
  2. I knew Scott was a keeper when I checked out his bookshelves and found lots of books by women. [↩]

Things I cannot tell you

There are a couple of top sekrit things I would love to be able to tell you about. In fact, I am typing this with a chopstick taped to my elbow cause that’s the only way I can trust my fingers not to type out those top sekrit things.

Instead I will tell you some things that are not embargoed:

  • I do not have a middle name.
  • I was born in Paddington Women’s Hospital in Sydney. It is now a block of flats.
  • In Australia primary school is kindie to year 6. High school is years 7 to 12. Or, at least, that’s true of New South Wales. Also we don’t call university “school”, we call it “uni”. Nor do we call it “college.” Colleges are student housing on campus. I am often confused when USians talk about “school” and “college.”
  • I went to two different high schools but about a million different primary schools.
  • If you haven’t read any Georgette Heyer you really really should. I particularly recommend Venetia and Sylvester.
  • And if you haven’t read any Dorothy Dunnett, well, why not? Start with the Lymond Chronicles. The first book is The Game of Kings.
  • I would rather read than write.
  • I think archery is amazing. And would love to learn some day. Sadly, my powers of concentration are fairly crap.
  • I love to cook.
  • There are only 22 million Australians. There are 2.6 million Jamaicans. On the whole, smaller countries are less confident than big countries like China (1.4 billion) and the USA (300 million). This is a good and a bad thing.

Hope you’re having an excellent non-embargoed time wherever you are.

Note: I am still in the bunker. Still not answering email. Will catch up with everything in September. Promise!

Lymps

You know what I like best about the Olympics? Other than twenty-four hours of non-stop sport? That I can’t decide which events I like best.

Seriously, there’s all the primal track stuff: run, throw, jump, jump with giant pole. I loves ’em all. Plus Usain Bolt is a legend. I could watch the replay of his hundred metre relaxed stroll all day long. And how about Jamaica? Jamaicans are finally winning lots of medals for Jamaica, rather than GB or Canada or the USA. Lovely to see.

But how primal is weightlifting? Very. I love the grunt, scream, growl, popping veins. Weightlifting is the best sport ever. There should be a weightlifting channel.

On the other hand, I do love my team sports. In fact, the only team sport I haven’t been able to fall in love with is water polo. Handball is much better. And I adore the beach volley ball. Not to mention regular volley ball.

I’m also into all the judged sports. They’re such an excellent rage outlet: “ARE YOU JUDGES BLIND?! STUPID?! OR JUST OUT AND OUT CORRUPT?!” It’s good to have a bit of a yell. It’s the synchronised swimming judges who are most demented. I have no idea what they’re thinking ever. Are they using i ching to make their decisions?

I am not looking forward to the Lymps ending. Why can’t it be once a year and not every four years? Or even better why can’t there be a never-ending Olympics? Twenty-four/seven/three-sixty-five? That would be the best thing ever.

Though my favourite Olympic sport of all time? BMX racing. Best. Sport. Ever.

What do youse lot love most about the Lymps?

Note: Yes, I am still without regular internets and thus am massively behind with email etc. Hope to catch up when we return to NYC in Sept.

We have a winner!

Rylie has guessed correctly. The name of my next novel is Why Do I Lie? after the song by Luscious Jackson. Rylie send me an email with your snail mail address. I will send you a copy of How to Ditch your Fairy.

A Quick Note on Titles
Just because I think Why Do I Lie? is the best possible title for this book there is no guarantee that my publisher will agree with me. I thought The Ultimate Fairy Book was the best possible title for the fairy book. Booksellers thought it was confusing because it sounded like a non-fiction guide to fairies. They said it would be misshelved and lost with that title. So we went with a new title, How To Ditch Your Fairy, generously provided by Libba Bray. (Bless you, Libba Bray!)

I am working hard not to become too attached to this title—even though it is PERFECT for the book—because there may be a better, more saleable title in its future. That is how publishing works. And, frankly, if there’s another title that will sell more copies? I’m down with that.

A few questions answered plus a HTDYF review

Several people are asking when How To Ditch Your Fairy will be available for purchase. You have a mere four weeks to wait! The release date for the USA and Canada is 16 September 2008. I don’t have a release date for the German edition but will let you know as soon as I know.

The novel I just finished the zero draft of has the nickname of Liar Book. Yes, it has an actual proper name. No, I’m not telling you what that title is. As mentioned many times previously it is the same title as a song by an all-girl band of the 1990s. You have to guess the name of the song NOT the name of the band. There have been many guesses they have all been wrong. It will be published by Bloomsbury USA in September 2009.

As for the people asking where in the world are we. We are in a top sekrit bunker. Don’t you people pay any attention? Sheesh.

There have been a bunch more lovely reviews of HTDYF but I seem to have lost most of the links I was saving. Oops. Here’s a happy making one from Leila Roy of Bookshelves of Doom. She likes my world building, seeing as how I pride myself on it, I were dead chuffed at the compliment.

Now back to turning the zero draft into a first draft. And trying very hard to ignore the Olympics. So. Very. Hard. I love the Lymps!

Note: Yes, I am still without regular internets and thus am massively behind with email etc. Hope to catch up when we return to NYC in Sept.

Popular versus critical acclaim

There’s an excellent post by the whip-smart1 Sherwood Smith on this hoary toothed and clawed subject generating much excellent discussion. It’s mostly been said over there but I cannot resist adding my tuppence worth.2

Firstly, the discussion over there is in terms of “award winning”. As Sherwood acknowledges, I think this is a problem because all awards are not created equal. There are a number of awards such as the Quills for example which explicitly go to popular books. Some awards are voted on, some are juried with a different jury every year, some have the same jury for years. Some awards have huge amounts of prestige, some no one’s ever heard of. Some awards will make a book popular if they win it. The Booker in the UK and the Newberry in the USA create bestsellers every year and keep books in print for decades. “Award-winning” and “popular” are not (necessarily) oppositional terms.

But the question is usually a hypothetical and assumes that you can have one or the other but not both: Would you rather be a bestseller or be critically acclaimed?

Every writer I know says bestseller because that means money and making a living. The question winds up sounding like, Would you rather eat well for the rest of your life or have one perfect meal and then starve? Most sane people are gunna say, “No to starving. I wants to live!”

The question also makes assumptions about the kind of books that are critically acclaimed versus those that are popular. I see many DREADFUL shockingly written books get critical acclaim and awards, while there are also gorgeously written books that sell bucketloads.3

The concept of the “commercial fiction” writer comes up in the discussion on Sherwood’s blog and how they are generally not respected etc. etc. This has a lot to do with what field you write in.4 Commercial fiction is usually taken to encompass the genres: crime, romance, fantasy, sf etc. It’s a bit of a misnomer because some genres sell better than others—sf is in the doldrums right now and most sf writers are hardpressed to make a living. Does that still make them commercial? And what about literary writer Cormac McCarthy writing a science fiction novel? Does that make him a commercial writer? Cause he sure is making a lot of money. Also in crime in particular there are many writers who are critical darlings such as Richard Price. Does his award-winning critically-acclaimed work lift him up from being a “commercial” writer and deposit him in the lofted halls of the literary?

I am a commercial fiction writer producing YA. Within my field I have won awards, been totally ignored by other awards, been critically acclaimed, been critically dumped on, and had one book sell bigger than expectations5 as well as in many non-English speaking markets, as well as had books sell only so-so, as well as totally bomb in some markets6. In my very small way7 I’m both popular-ish (though by no means a best-seller) and critically acclaimed-ish.

Within my field I’m slightly known; outside my field, of course, I am unknown. There are at most three YA writers with name recognition outside the land of YA: Stephenie Meyer, Philip Pullman, and J. K. Rowling. There are, of course, other big names in my field: Meg Cabot, Sarah Dessen, Garth Nix, Christopher Paolini, Scott Westerfeld. But, trust me, when I mentioned their names to readers who don’t know YA8 they’ve never heard of them.

What does this all mean? I have no idea. I’m thinking out loud here. *Heh hem.*

The two categories are slippery. How popular do you have to be to merit the term? How critically acclaimed? The category of bestseller is notoriously slippery. The New York Times‘s methods for deciding border on voo doo. I know people who are USA Today bestsellers but not NYT bestsellers and vice versa.

Most of the writers I know don’t obsess as much as you’d think about being either a bestseller or critically acclaimed. They want to be able to make a living at writing and they want to be able to do it while writing the best books they possibly can. Naturally, we all mean something very different by that. Both what it takes to make a living and what constitutes a good book.

Those two things are a big enough struggle. The vast majority of published writers do not make a living from writing. And most of us struggle to meet our own standards of good bookness. Though writing the best we can is usually the only thing we have any control over.

Speaking of which, I have a zero draft of the Liar book to make good.

Later!

  1. What is so smart about whips? [↩]
  2. I realise that I have never in my life so much as seen a tuppence. Never mind . . . [↩]
  3. Why, yes, I am not going to give examples. You know I don’t say mean things about living writers. Well, okay, I have mentioned my disagreements with OSC but I have not dissed his books on account of I haven’t read them. [↩]
  4. Romance writers are not dissed for being commercial writers within the romance field. [↩]
  5. The expectations were low. [↩]
  6. France and Taiwan. [↩]
  7. At this moment in time. It could all go pear-shaped. [↩]
  8. And who don’t have teenage kids [↩]

Jesus played cricket

And the liar novel is almost finished. I’d say all’s right with the world, wouldn’t you?

He notes that in the Armenian Gospel of the Infancy, translated into Armenian in the 6th century from a much older lost Syriac original, a passage tells of Jesus playing what may well be the precursor of cricket, with a club and ball. (Via Lili.)

Sounds like a hundred per cent conclusive evidence of Jesus playing cricket to me.

I got nothing

Well, I got lots of things but a couple of them are embargoed. [[Kicks embargos]] And most of them are all about the book I am currently writing (more than 70 thou words now) which is deadly dull to anyone other than the person what’s writing the book, which would be me.

Ordinarily I would demand that you lot entertain me, but seeing as at the moment I only emerge from the bunker to have a brief squiz at the internets for a few minutes of every day . . . So how about you entertain yourselves?

Or something.

I returns to bunker. Is happy there. Warm. Filled with writing vitamins. Mmmm . . . bunker.

Font neutral

I don’t care about fonts. I know this is a shocking revelation coming from a writer. But there it is. I am also not in love with stationery—spending more than ten seconds in a stationery shop is my idea of hell—and I actively hate paper.

Fonts, though, just have my indifference. This came up recently because Scott wanted to watch a documentary about Helvetica and I, um, did not express sufficient enthusiasm. I may have mentioned the words “boring” and “paint” and “drying”. Possibly.

I’m not even sure I could recognise Helvetica. Truly, it was only pretty recently that I learned the difference between serif and san serif. And I still don’t much care. I have never had a favourite font. I tend to write in whatever font I’m told I should write in. For years I wrote in courier because everyone said I should. Then a friend insisted I switch to Times New Roman so I did.

I am writing the current novel in Optima because that’s Scrivener’s default font. Scott was shocked when he found out and delivered me a long lecture on how you can’t write a novel in Optima. “But I just did!” I protested.1

Obviously there are some fonts I wouldn’t write in. Heavy gothic fonts. Any font that resembles handwriting. Especially my handwriting. Basically if I notice the font then I can’t write in it. But run-of-the-mill fonts are fine. And, frankly, I can’t really tell the difference between them. Once I’m writing and deep in the story I don’t see the font anymore.

Am I alone? Am I the only writer in the world with font indifference? I fear I am. Or is it like coffee and chocolate hating. We are a rare breed but we exist.

  1. Well, almost. Novel is very nearly almost practically finished. [↩]

Contract with the reader

One aspect of the strong fan reaction to Meyer’s Breaking Dawn is the notion that some of them have that Stephenie Meyer owed them a particular book and a particular ending.1 As a writer I have to say that does my head in. No writer owes their readership anything. NOT A SINGLE THING. They have to write the book they have to write. Writers should not be thinking about giving their audience what the audience wants. For starters there is no unified audience. They don’t want all the same things. So pleasing them is IMPOSSIBLE.

On the other hand, Joss Whedon owes me big time for the mess he made of season seven of Buffy. The creators of Veronica Mars owe me BIG TIME for the monstrosity that was season three of Veronica Mars. And do not get me started on the egregious ways in which Weeds has jumped the shark. Head should roll!

So, um, I appear to be in two minds on all of this. Writer Justine does not agree with fan Justine. But whatever the contract with the reader is it does not include having to fulfill all the reader’s desires. On account of that not being possible.

Hmm, I repeat myself. What do youse lot think?

  1. My apologies for the worst sentence ever I’m hoarding the good ones for the Liar book. [↩]

Writing goals

A while back I said that one of my writing goals was to publish a book in every one of the following genres. Here’s the updated list with more genres crossed off cause I done ’em in How To Ditch Your Fairy:1

  • Romance
  • Historical
  • Crime (what some call mysteries)
  • Thriller (the John Grisham, Tom Clancy etc etc genre2
  • Fantasy
  • SF
  • Comedy (do you call ’em comedies if they’re books?)
  • Horror
  • Mainstream (you know, Literature: professor has affair with much younger student in the midst of mid-life crisis)
  • Western
  • YA

For those keeping track I crossed off “romance”, “comedy” and “SF”. Three down with the one book! How clever am I?

I’m also aiming to publish books that use the following povs:

  • First person
  • Second person
  • Third person limited
  • Omniscient

Sadly, HTDYF is in first person so nothing to cross off there. Poo. But soon, my pretties, soon.

As well as these:

  • Standalone
  • Trilogy
  • Series

Score! HTDYF is a standalone. Now I only have to write a series and that list will be taken care of. Piece of cake.

Crossing things of lists is my favourite thing in the whole world. Almost as good as passing the 65,000 word mark on your latest novel. 65k is a landmark for me because that’s how long my first three published novels are. I passed it today. Woo hoo!

  1. Yes, I know HTDYF isn’t pub’d yet, but, c’mon, it’s only a month away! [↩]
  2. I’m using “genre” and “category” interchangably cause now that I’m no longer an academic—I can. [↩]

The next next novel (updated)

Because I am nearing the end of my next novel, and fast approaching my deadline, naturally my mind has turned to the novel I’ll be writing after this one. It will be set in New York City in the 1930s. Yup, I’ll be trying my hand at some historical fiction. Why not, eh? After all, it’s on my list.

And like, Cassie, who’s preparing for her next novel by only reading books about or set in Victorian England, I’m going to only read Depression era New York City books. Though because I am cunning I also get to watch many of my fave movies from the 1930s. An astonishing number of which are set in NYC. Damn I’m good.

I need no help with movie recs but I’d love to get recommendations for books, especially non-fiction such as histories and journals and collections of letters from that era. Novels would be fab as well. Preferably written and published then, but if a book is particularly good just set then should be fine.

Thanks!

Update: Thanks so much for all the suggestions. Just to be clear: New York City recs only. I have no need for general US recommendations. And as I said I’m especially interested in primary sources: letters, diaries etc. Thanks again for all the help.

News from the writing bunker

Both Scott and me are writing up storms, or, you know, novels. Our bunker is excellently designed, being gorgeous, with great views, comfy writing spots, and NO internet access. It’s brilliant: we get so bored we can’t help but write.

I am now five stories away from the bunker in the secret place of wifi access. I have snuck out while Scott’s not looking to have a peek at the wider world and to see what’s happening here on me blog. Thanks much for all the fascinating comments on previous post. The discussion has left me feeling much more relaxed about the writers I refuse to read. I am zen.

I wonder how zen Stephenie Meyer is feeling? I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a negative reaction to the final book in a series before. I’ve seen Scott cop some flack because of the way he ended the Uglies and Midnighters series but wow the response to Breaking Dawn is, um, intense.

The whole thing makes me grateful that I’m not nearly as popular as Meyer (or Scott for that matter). What would it be like to have your fans turn on you? I mean the Amazon reviews are dripping with anger. I’ll be honest: I feel awful for Meyer. Negative reviews are hard to weather at the best of times. Plus everyone I know who’s met her has said what a lovely person she is.1

I feel like saying to her fans: Relax, it’s just a book! But that would be hypocrisy of the worst kind because I felt the same way about the third book in His Dark Materials. You betrayed me, Mr Pullman! How could you? I WILL NEVER READ YOU AGAIN! Which was a lie, but I was ANGRY.

The Twilight phenomenon has been fascinating. There are thousands reading for pleasure now who weren’t before Meyer’s books came along. It’s a wondrous thing. Other than Harry Potter these are the bestselling children’s/YA books we’ve seen in a long time. I’m wondering if this last book has ended the phenomenon. It seems unlikely. I’m also wondering if we’re going to see another such hugely successful YA series. Or if Potter & Twilight are it for the next decade or so.

And now I must return to the bunker. But before I go I’ll note that there have been some particularly nasty spam attacks. Sorry if your comment winds up in moderation as a result. I promise to free it ASAP. And sorry too for all those unanswered emails. When the book is done I will catch up. Promise.

  1. Not that this would be fun for her if she wasn’t lovely . . . [↩]

They is bad person. I’m not reading them

Ever since I was aware that writers were actual living breathing people, I have heard readers talking about discovering how putrid the politics/personality/hygiene/habits of a particular writer is and deciding that they can no longer read that particular writer, or give them money by buying the books they once loved.

I always respond by pointing out that when I discovered that Knut Hamsun was a fascist, who thought Hitler was the best bloke ever, it didn’t stop me form loving his fabulous novel, Hunger. Writers are not their books!

As a writer, it freaks me to think that some people will stop reading me, not because of my books, but because of something I’ve said or done. I feel all defensive every time someone tells me they’ve stopped reading Orson Scott Card because of his homophobia. Or John Green because he supports Barack Obama. I love Elvis. Is someone not going to read me because of that? Should I shut up and keep my opinions to myself for fear of offending potential readers? But why should we writers have to shut up? We are not our books. They is independent of us. You make them yours, dear reader, when you read them.

And yet, I must admit that there are a few writers I have met and disliked so much that I have never read any of their books again.1 How is that any different? Am I being a hypocrite?

Yes, I think I am.

Why should a reader keep reading the work of someone who pisses them off? Sure some readers can make the distinction between the writer and their work. Like me still being able to read Knut Hamsun. But it sure does help that he’s dead and that I’ve never read anything but his fiction. I haven’t read his online frothing at the mouth outpouring of Hitler love. It’s a lot harder to achieve that distance with a writer whose offensive views are all over the beastly intramnets. And worse when you’ve been subject to their unpleasantness in real life.

Some readers can still manage to make that distinction between book and author, but many can’t and, really, why should they? There are so many great books out there which makes cutting your choices down a bit of a relief. I’m pretty sure there are enough books on my TBR pile right now to last me till the end of time.

I’m not going to censor myself either. Elvis haters are never going to like my work. I’m cool with that. Their loss.2

What do you lot think?

  1. Or at all in the case of writers whose work I hadn’t read when I had the misfortune of meeting them. [↩]
  2. Not having the Elvis love, I mean. [↩]

More reviews & some pontification about age classification & reviews

There are two new How To Ditch Your Fairy reviews. Both of them a bit too spoilery for my liking. I.e. they give away plot points beyond the title of the book. I am very spoiler sensitive.

This one really tickled me as it is from an eleven-year-old reviewer who is also a fan of the Magic or Madness trilogy. Have I ever mentioned that I was worried about what my MorM fans would think of HTDYF seeing as how it is so very different from the trilogy? This review set my fears at rest.

The reviewer is not the youngest fan of the book. I received a lovely fan letter from a nine-year-old HTDYF fan not too long ago. That’s especially excellent as me and my publisher were really hoping the book would cross over into middle grade. In fact, there was some discussion about publishing it as middle grade instead of YA. Bloomsbury decided against because many teenagers are thought to be less willing to read middle grade than they are YA. Whereas middle grade readers will read up. Bless their hearts!

Then there’s Jennifer Hubert Swan’s review at Reading Rants:

Funny and whimsical, this isn’t just a fantasy, but a romance, sports, and even a bit of a mystery novel. Larbalestier threads sly pokes at celebrity obsession and adolescent self-centeredness throughout Charlie’s snarky narrative, which will delight close readers and us “olde” teens who fancy ourselves above all that? Personally, I could use a “no one ever sits too close to me on the subway” fairy, or a “write brilliant book reviews in no time at all” fairy.

Once again, a reviewer gets what I was going for. I am blessed!

Have I mentioned that one of the most wonderful things in the world is being reviewed by smart, articulate, witty reviewers. Seriously, writing a novel takes AGES. When you’re writing and rewriting and dealing with copyedits and proofs and all the rest of it you start to think that it will NEVER end. You become convinced that the book will never be read by anyone but you and the people who HAVE to read it as part of their job.1 And when other people do read it they will just lecture you about serial commas and plot discontinuities. And that all the smarty-pants, I’m-so-clever stuff will only be noticed by your mum. So reviews (and letters and comments from readers) like this make everything seem worth it. I am not alone! My novel exists beyond me and some people think it makes sense! Hallelujah!

Further to the last post: I may have given the impression that I am against reviews or think less of reviewers. Au contraire! See above paragraph. Writing a smart review is one of the hardest things to write in the world.

  1. Um, okay that does kind of include some reviewers, but not that many. [↩]

Most common and annoying review cliche of all time

“With its [blah blah] and [blah blah] [Blah Blah] is sure to [blah blah].”

I just read a whole bunch of reviews (mostly of crime books) and I swear to you every single one had that sentence in it.

“With its romance and wit Pride and Prejudice is sure to appeal to readers of all ages.”

C’mon, reviewers, think of something else to say! Also say it differently. Do not bore me.

That is all.

From an undisclosed location

Scott and me has run away to finish our novels at an undisclosed location. Posting from behind the walls of our hidden bunker may be intermittent and on the shortish side. Book must be finished on the soonish.

In the meantime, it is conclusive, “monster” and “white-ant” are verbs only in Australia. For confused non-Australians a white ant is a termite. Thus to white-ant someone is to undermine them: to bore away at their foundations, you know, like termites do. Is most useful verb.

Thanks for the Cadel Evans commiserations. Second two years running. Surely next year.

Yes, I is stoked that the Liberty are in the second place in the Eastern conference. Here’s hoping we come out after the Olympics break ready to take over first place from smelly Connecticut.

Here’s hoping youse lot are happy wherever in the world you are. I sure am.

Not naming books I hate

Some of you have expressed annoyance that I have not named the hated book in previous post. To which I can only say: tough.

My blog, my rules.

Is long-standing policy of this blog never to name the author or title of books I don’t like. This will never change.

I don’t name them because authors are the most sensitive creatures alive. Layers of their skin disappear every time one of their babies books is dissed. This is why agents and editors never pass along any but the good reviews. They do not want their authors to wind up skinless because then they’ll be in intensive care unable to write more books.

Then there’s the other kind of author who seek out and destroy those who speak less than praise-ingly of their books. And—even worse—the fans who do likewise. Fans can be VICIOUS. What can I say? I am a coward.

The only time I will name a craptastic book or author is if they’re dead AND they don’t have a rabid fan following. Mentioning my dislike of a certain detective by a long-dead author led to my receiving hate mail. I have learned my lesson: Passionate readers are to be FEARED.

So far that means I can only tell you how much I hate hate hate hate Moby Dick. That’s because American Lit scholars aren’t very scary. I can so take them.

Bad books/Good books

I recently finished reading a book that I found so poorly constructed and lazily written I was kind of astonished it had been published by a reputable house. It read to me like a poorly edited first draft by a talented writer. Vast stretches consisted of dialogue only. There was no sense of place. The only way you could tell where you were was because names of streets and other landmarks were dropped in. Oh, and the cover copy announced where it was set, which, truly, was my biggest clue.

I’ll be honest it kind of made me angry. I know lots of writers who work their arses off getting it right and here’s this writer just phoning it and getting away with it.

But then I talked to a librarian friend of mine, who liked (though didn’t love) the book and whose students enjoyed it. She also mentioned that it had some very enthusiastic reviews, which I immediately looked up. They left me bewildered and a bit cranky. If someone can phone in a crappy first draft and suck in the readers and reviewers why bust a gut to write the best books we can? Why do we bother doing research? Why aren’t we phoning them in too?

Now, of course, my reaction assumes that there’s a shared understanding of what makes a good book and good writing, which clearly there’s not. Each reader is bringing something different to the page and thus reading something different. But I feel like even when I hate a book I can at least see what other people are seeing it. I think I get why some people love Moby Dick even though it bores me into a coma. I don’t think it’s badly written. It’s just the last book in the world I want to read.

Not this time. This book was shoddy. There was no there there.

But maybe that’s exactly what it has going for it? The less there is on the page, the more a reader can bring to it, and the more they can make the book their own? And that what I think of as “good writing” just gets in the way of that kind of reading experience.

Who knows? Certainly not me. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the appeal of this particular book or the many books just like it. But it doesn’t really matter because it clearly wasn’t written for me. And heaps of wonderful books that were written for me are getting plenty of love too.

And, yes, I will keep writing the best books I can. There’ll continue to be readers out there who think they’re rubbish. Because those black squiggles on white paper? We can interpret them any old way we choose.

I got what I wanted (Updated)

Candace Parker played. She played very well indeed. I was impressed.1

And WE WON!!

And we are now a mere game out of first place in the East. Life is very good indeed.

Thank you, New York Liberty, for improving in so many different ways. We have post players. We have two good point guards. We have DE-FENCE. In fact, other than Indiana, I think we’re the best defensive team in the WNBA. I love our full-court pressure. I love the many ways we made LA turn over the ball. Twas bliss.

Now all we have to do is shoot a bit better and we’ll be perfect.

Too exhausted and happy to get more analytical. This has been the best New York Liberty year in AGES. Colour me ecstatic.

Let’s go LIBERTY!

Update: The crowd was just shy of 13,000, which is the biggest we’ve had all year. So the atmosphere was incredible. We screamed ourselves hoarse—especially cause there were a few too many pockets of evil LA Sparks fans in the audience. My fave part was when the Beat LA! Beat LA! Beat LA! chant got going in our section. We may have had something to do with that . . .

  1. She’s not dirty in defence unlike, say, Lisa Leslie or Delisha Milton-Jones. [↩]

I am happy (Updated)

The WNBA has handed down the suspensions for Tuesday’s brawl. I know many are unhappy about the lenience towards Candace Parker in particular. But for extremely selfish reasons I am very very very glad. Because this means I get to see her play on Friday. Woo hoo!

What’s making me cranky is the total absence of anything said about the abysmal refs. Where’s their punishment?

Update: Though I’ll admit I am very nervous about Leslie and Parker being so rested before we play then in the Garden.

Notice anything different around here?

Why, yes, my site has had a redesign. Isn’t it gorgeous? The fabulous Stephanie Leary has remade it so that it all fits neatly in WordPress.1

My request for the redesign was pretty simple:

  • Make it look as much like the existing blog as possible. Only, you know, better.
  • Keep it clean and simple and easily navigable.
  • Set it up so I don’t have to turn to a designer every time I have a new book to add.

Stephanie succeeded on all fronts. I love it. SO MUCH.

Not only is it beautiful but there’s loads more stuff such as:

The musings, which were my pre-blog blog, have been added to the Archives so they’re much easier to access than previously. They stretch back to 2002. Some of them are quite revealing and some embarrassing. A few I’m very proud of.

I was sad to leave my old site behind. It was a gorgeous design and I’ll miss it, which is why I have this page to commemorate the old site and thank its designer, Deb Biancotti, for all her work.

Please have a bit of an explore. Let me know what you think and report any typos, broken links, weirdnesses that you find. I wants it to be perfect, I does!

Here’s hoping you like the new look as much as I do.

  1. I never have to deal with Dreamweaver again! My happiness is huge. [↩]
  2. Yes, all my novels come with glossaries. [↩]
  3. It’s better than a DVD! [↩]

Quick stuff

I may not be blogging so much for the next few weeks. I is busy. Plus book still not writing itself. But here’s some links for youse:

  • Maureen weighs in on the should-you-major-in-creative-writing-for-your-undergraduate-degree debate and manages (as usual) to be both funny and wise.

  • Rethinking basketball, my new fave WNBA blog, talks about last night’s Detroit-LA brawl. I disagree that it will have a negative effect on attendance, but I do worry that they’ll wind up over-officiating games to make up for last night’s shoddy under officiating.

  • Publishers Weekly has named How To Ditch Your Fairy one of the wackiest Fall titles they’ve come across more specifically it’s the “Least Practical DIY Guide”. Via way too many folks to thank all of ’em.

You may have noticed I haven’t gotten around to answering all those excellent quessies for my FAQ. It will happen! In the meantime feel free to hit me with more quessies.

And now I must write book while listening to the Liberty defeat the Mystics.

Upset

I just watched a hard fought game between the LA Sparks and Detroit Shock that ended in a real fight. The ending was horrible with three players and one coach ejected and, I’m sure, lots of unwelcome attention from the press which ordinarily completely ignores the WNBA. Gosh, maybe now even the New York Times will cover a game.

I was most shocked by Detroit Assistant Coach Mahorn, who is male and well over 7ft tall 6ft 10inches, pushing over Lisa Leslie. He needs to be suspended for the rest of the season. You do not touch the opposing team’s players ever. Under any circumstances.

But mostly I blame the referees. There were several incidents leading up to the fight between Parker and Pierson. Cheryl Ford should’ve been T’d up. So should Coach Laimbeer. And Candace Parker. The officials let things get out of control. They let the nasty atmosphere boil over into violence. Can the refs be suspended for the rest of the season? I’d like to see that.

And now several players are going to be out for a bunch of games. Plenette Pierson, Candace Parker and Delisha Milton-Jones for sure and most likely Muriel Page and Deanna Nolan as well. Not to mention Cheryl Ford getting injured trying to keep Pierson from attacking more LA players.

I hate this crap. This is not why I follow the WNBA. If I want to watch people brawling I can watch the thugby (otherwise known as Rugby League) or the NBA. The New York Liberty plays the LA Sparks on Friday. It’s not going to be as good a game without Parker and Milton-Jones.

And all because the officials couldn’t put a lid on Laimbeer and Ford and Parker. When a coach is screaming abuse at you, when players have to be held back, when players are going after the ball long after the whistle is blown—T them up. And if they do it again—throw them out. As I saw tonight that aggressive nastiness spreads.

I really hope this is the WNBA’s first and last brawl.

Trying for clarity

A number of people seem to be under the impression that in the previous post I was recommending against MFAs. My post was about undergraduate, not postgraduate study. I made no such recommendation.

As it happens, I know a number of people who’ve found certain MFA programmes extremely useful. The Vermont one, for instance, has been a wonderful experience for several friends of mine. But the vast majority of full-time professional writers do not have MFAs. Nope, I don’t have statistical evidence to back that up, but I’d be very surprised if I was wrong.

My post was in response to teenagers who asked about majoring in creative writing for an undergraduate degree. They seemed to be under the misapprehension that such a degree would automatically lead to a career as a full-time professional writer. It will not.1 Or that it is the best preparation for such a career. It is not.

There are a million different paths to being a writer. Most writers have had (and have) a huge variety of different jobs and studied (if they did at all) a wide variety of subjects. There are as many different experiences and backgrounds as there are writers. And don’t forget the vast majority of published writers are not full-time writers. They have other jobs.

Garth Nix, who confessed to having an undergraduate degree in writing, did not graduate and instantly become a New York Times bestseller. First he worked as a bookseller, an editor, an agent, and, I’m sure, many other things. He read and read and read and wrote and wrote and eventually was published and later still became a New York Times bestseller.

Do I think if you do major in creative writing that you’ve made a dread awful mistake and your life is over? No, of course not. Everything that happens in life is useful to a writer. The good, the bad, the ugly and the boring. I have a friend who swears she learned way more about human nature in a critique circle than she did travelling through Europe and Asia.

If I’m asked the question again will I answer the same way? Sure. I think there are way more useful things to major in as an undergraduate. Something that hones your research skills, for instance.

You can study anything at all, do any kind of job, and still become a writer. All I am saying is that studying creative writing is not a prerequisite to becoming a writer.

  1. I’m sure there’s some exceptions somewhere but they are so rare as to be irrelevant. [↩]

Writing career advice (updated)

I am occasionally asked what you should study in uni (or “college” as USians call it) to prepare for a career as a writer. Should you major in creative writing?

In a word: NO.

The best preparation for a writing career are saleable skills in some other area. If you want to go to college study history or mathematics or sociology or engineering or whatever else takes your fancy. Variety is good. Anything, really, other than creative writing.

Never forget: The vast majority of published writers do not make a living writing. You will need some other way to make money to support your writing habit.

The courses that helped me prepare most for my writing career were in linguistics, history, and semiotics. The one semester creative writing course I did was by far the least useful.

Every single full-time professional writer I know had other jobs before they switched to full-time writing. They were teachers, software engineers, food critics, librarians, journalists, masseurs, dramaturgs, waitresses, receptionists, lead soldier pickers, copywriter, executives, lawyers, editors, and a bunch of other jobs I’m not remembering right now.

Most—but not all of them—earned an undergraduate degree, but none of those degrees were in creative writing. Not a single one. And very few of them have an MFA or other postgraduate writing degrees.

The best way to perfect your craft is to write and write and write. I’ve talked about that elsewhere. But what I haven’t mentioned is that another part of being a successful writer is having something to write about.

Yes, that’s right, experience, knowledge. Those are what help generate ideas.

Spending the majority of your time in uni (college) writing stories and concentrating on your craft, and not learning all the kinds of useful stuff (history, languages, physics, agriculture) that can feed into your stories can be a mistake. It’s hard to write well about the world if you don’t know a lot about it. Which is another reason I advise people to live in other countries if you ever get the opportunity. Preferably, ones where they don’t speak the same language as you do.

I also think it’s a really good idea to take a year off and work and travel before you go to uni. Meet a wide variety of people. Leave your neighbourhood, your town, your city, your state, your country.1

You may get lucky and find an awesome career that doesn’t require a degree. But, sadly, that’s getting less and less likely. Undergraduate degrees seem to be required for pretty much every career these days, which is a shame because some of the smartest people I know are autodidacts.

I digress.

To sum up: majoring in creative writing for an undergraduate degree? A thousand times no.

Update: A post in which I attempt to clarify my position. No, I’m not against MFAs.

  1. Now, I have occasionally met people who had so many experiences packed into their first 18 years of life that this advice is redundant. But they’re rare. They’d probably welcome the rest of a few years of writing workshops. [↩]

Live long and marry auction

The Live Long and Marry auction has topped $30,000 46,000. Wow. That’s just astonishing. Thirty thousand dollars! Forty-six thousand dollars!

For those who are curious: the winning bid to have me name a character after you (or something) went for $225. (Gulp.) So the biology teacher in my next novel, who already had a Japanese name, is now named Yayeko Shoji after the bidder’s mother.

Great name, huh? I’m very pleased it worked out. I was worried I’d wind up with an unusable name, you know, like BrushWithDeath Mergatroid. But it worked out perfectly. Happiness for everyone.

Here’s hoping that this nasty anti-love initiative to strip people of the right to marry is defeated.

Happiness is . . .

. . . a really lovely fan letter.

See, when I mentioned here that I get more fan mail from adults than teens it was said wistfully—with a little sadness even. One of my teen readers saw and understood:

In your latest blog post, you said that most of your fan mail comes from adults. Because of this, I believe that, being the teenager I am, I should send you fan mail.

So, here is your fanmail from a teenager:

I luuuuuurve the Magic or Madness trilogy. Each one is incredibly fawesome. I made the mistake of bringing them to school this past year, where I could not read them straight through. (Side note: Fellow classmates give you weird looks when you’re reading a book entitled Magic Lessons.) I had to wait until I finished my work to read them. I did not want to wait. They were too awesome.

So, yeah, I loved them a lot. I can’t wait to read How to Ditch Your Fairy. It too looks awesome. Good luck finishing your new book.

Oh, and in regards to the last line of your latest post: You better stay a YA writer. I will be sad if you don’t. D:

— Khy

Thank you, Khy, you made my day. Week, really. No, month. Actually you may have made my entire year. Bless!

I especially liked that she talks about how she read the trilogy. It reminded me of when I was still in school and would read books under my desk when teachers weren’t looking. Yeah, I know, I was bad to the bone. When I was caught up in a book it was pretty much impossible to stop reading so International Studies and Maths be damned I was gunna keep reading till I finished even if there was a class going on.1

Like Margo Rabb says one of the most amazing parts of writing YA is the gorgeous letters you get from adults and teens—but especially teens. They’re who I write for after all.

  1. Apparently, Khy is more disciplined than I was. [↩]

YA stigma

The lovely Margo Rabb (yes, I know her—all writers of YA in the US of A know each other—or at most there’s two degrees of separation) has an article in the New York Times about how writing YA is looked down upon by those who write proper Literachure for teh adults.

I must be living in a lovely cocoon. I honestly have not experienced the kind of snobbery Margo Rabb describes in the article. I suspect that’s because pretty much all the publishing people I know are YA people. Whereas most of the people quoted in the article either come out of the adult literary world or aspired to write for adults.

I never did.

So there are many things in the article I’m startled by. Like Meg Rosoff’s claim that YA gets more respect in the UK. My experience, though obviously much more limited than hers—I mean she lives there—is the opposite. I think it gets tonnes more respect here in the US. In fact, the one and only time I was asked when I was going to write a “proper grown up book” was in London.

Also I think the idea of having an adult and a young adult edition of a book (which happens a lot in the UK) screams of not respecting the YA genre. Why would you need an adult edition (which is always the exact same text but—usually—with a different cover) if you felt no shame about reading the young adult version?

Here in the US, I run into adults who read lots of YA all the time. In fact, the majority of my fan mail comes from adults. The “stigma” of being published as YA does not seem to be stopping them from reading my books. The same does not seem to be true in the UK or Australia for that matter.

In fact, the writers for teh adults I do know, here in the USA, are all hell bent on switching to YA. But none of them write Literachure, they write fantasy, science fiction and romance, and they’ve heard that the going is good in YAland. That they can write whatever genre they want—crime, realism, fantasy—and that their books will be shelved next to each other and what’s more they’ll be paid better than they are in their given genre. So off to YA they go.

I guess that’s the biggest dissonance for me reading the article. I do not write Literachure. I have never written it. I have never aspired to write it. I have only ever wanted to write historicals or fantasy or crime and I can do ALL of that while writing YA.

That’s why I’m a YA writer and plan to stay one for the rest of my career.

More HTDYF reviews

I may have mentioned that Leilani Mitchell of the New York Liberty looks pretty much exactly how I imagined Charlie, the protag of How To Ditch Your Fairy, looking. And she’s a point guard—just like Charlie! How perfect is that?

So here is a Leilani photo taken by Bruce Yeung to adorn the most recent reviews of HTDYF.1

The first review is over at Book Lover. Be warned it is VERY spoilery.

The second one comes from Enchanting Reviews. They give HTDYF five enchantments!2 Here’s a wee snip of the review:

Charlie is a witty and lovable heroine; I almost wish she was my best friend! The idea behind this novel was so unique, which is another reason I loved this novel so much. Just the concept of having personal fairies is so cool, and I liked how the fairy aspect of the novel never seemed superficial. All in all, I completely enjoyed reading this story because it was so well-written and made me sigh in happiness. HOW TO DITCH YOUR FAIRY was a perfect blend of all its elements and a novel I most definitely recommend.

The third review comes from the Menasha Library (Wisconsin) Kid’s Lit blog:

The lightness and freshness of this novel make it read like a frothy teen novel with little substance, but that isn’t the case. Underneath the humor there are more serious questions lingering about fairies, faith, and friendship for those who want a little more depth. Teens can read it on several levels, which means that it will appeal to a wide range of readers. The teen characters are interesting and always more than their fairies seem to be. The obsessive nature of the New Avalon society is a great commentary on American culture. A great part of the fun of the book is Larbalestier’s teen language that is unique to New Avalon but easily understood by all. It just makes the reading all the more enjoyable.

This review is especially pleasing cause, you know, that’s what I was going for! (Though I was commenting on Australian culture as well as American.) So lovely when readers read what you think you put on the page.

She finishes by saying,

Recommended for teens age 12-15. Little handselling will be necessary for this one. It will fly off the shelves on fairy wings.

Fingers crossed she’s right! Cause that would be deeply awesome! (Why, yes, I am imagining HTDYF sprouting wings and flying around bookshops and libraries all over North America. What of it?)

  1. I love this photo. How gorgeous is it that her coach, Patty Coyle, is taller than she is? Also that Leilani’s so ready to get back into the game that Coyle has to hold her jersey to finish giving her the rest of the play. [↩]
  2. I’m really hoping it’s out of five, not ten. [↩]

Another reason books are teh devil

Just when you’re approaching the end of one book and you really must give that book all your time and all your brain, another one comes along and starts insisting you write it instead.

This is WRONG and must stop. IMMEDIATELY.

Bugger off, stupid new book. GO AWAY!

Book = Teh Devil

Libba Bray likens writing a book to a love affair complete with the foul ending where everything goes pear shaped.1

Libba’s analogy does not work for me. It is too kind. It also implies that the author is some how at fault when the affair sours and ends. Au contraire.

The truth is that books are Satan. Or at least devils of some particularly nasty kind. Mine keep demanding bits of my body. And those demands escalate.

Initially they just want some hair, the odd fingernail, dead skin cells. That’s cool. I have a lot of hair. Fingernails grow back. I don’t even mind when it steps up to wanting all my fingernails down to the quick.

But right now it’s after my muscles. As in, it seems much happier when every muscle in my back and shoulders and neck is locked in place and I cannot move anything but my typing fingers and the muscles that make my eyes move. See? It has everything it needs to continue to be written but I’m incapable of doing anything else.

Cunning, eh?

This happens every single time with every single book. When my neck stopped moving on Monday, Scott sighed, looked at his watch and said, “It’s that week, isn’t it? I’ll be getting you a massage appointment then, won’t I?”

The devil books Maureen writes also freeze her muscles though the current one added a new variation when it threw in a dread skin disease. Sometimes the devil books we write visit even nastier afflictions upon us: like Scott‘s and Cassie‘s shingles. I have even heard of some writers being struck with leprosy and bubonic plague.

I am not complaining, and require no sympathy, think of this instead as a gentle warning to anyone foolish enough to want to make a career out of dealing with the devil writing books.

Gotta dash, book’s demanding blood.

  1. Yes, I’m doing it again, linking to someone what just linked to me. But, see, Libba and me are gunna get married and engaged people can do the mutual linky thing to their heart’s content. It’ll even be in our wedding vows. [↩]

Fixing my FAQ*

I’ve been meaning to update my FAQ for ages. I’m thinking of dividing it into different subject areas like Diana did on her blog: such as, my various books, writing, publishing, whatever else you want to know.

So if you have any questions about writing or publishing or my books or anything else that isn’t already answered on the FAQ fire away.

*Is it just me or does that sound vaguely obscene?

In which I answer a question (Updated)

Lotti asks:

I would be rather happy right now to get a rejection letter. It would at least be a start, because I have never plucked up the courage to go down the publishing road. What inspired you to get published?

The answer to this question is long and requires backstory.

My earliest publications required no courage at all. The first one came when I was nine because my mum sent a poem of mine to the local newspaper. I have mentioned elsewhere that this kind of horrified me because kids at school teased me for many weeks afterwards demanding that I show them how to fly. The poem was called “I can fly”.

But I also loved seeing my name in print and the approbation I got from the teachers. As a kid I was more often in trouble than not so it was a refreshing change.

After that I was published in school magazines and lots of other youth publications. My parents or a teacher would send my stuff in. Or I would be asked for something cause I now had a reputation as the kid who wrote. The pinnacle of my juvenile career was having a poem in a great big hardcover book called Our World by the kids of Australia, which was published for the International Year of the Child.

As you can see when I was first being published I never had to pluck up any courage except to deal with teasing from my peers.1 Thus the transition to me actually sending my own stuff out did not seem like a big deal. I also fully expected to be published. Because that’s what had happened up till then.

I was not.

From the time I first submitted to an adult market until 2001 I did not have a single story accepted. Every rejection was a crushing—and in the beginning totally unexpected—blow. I was too stupid to realise that some of those rejections were quite encouraging and asked to see more work. All I could see was that my work was being rejected and they clearly thought I sucked too.

That’s when I learned to dread sending stuff out. Indeed, for large chunks of time—years even—I didn’t. The only people reading my writing were family and friends and no one was reading my attempts at writing novels until I got talking with a relative stranger many many many years after I first started writing novels.

So I kept writing, but only rarely sent my stuff out. Sometimes a friend would push me into. Sometimes I’d come across a new magazine that I thought was cool and that would fit my stories.

Every single time I sent a story out would require a ridiculous amount of courage. And the whole time that story was out there I’d be thinking about it and worrying about it and waiting for the rejection and finding it really hard to write something new. Or, you know, sleep.

To be honest I’m still a bit like that and I still get rejected. How to Ditch Your Fairy was sent to many publishing houses. Only two of them made an offer, which means all the others rejected it, which is obviously MUCH better than none of them wanting it, but there’s still a sting. And to this day no publisher in Spain or any other Spanish-speaking country has wanted any of my books, which breaks my heart because it’s the only language other than English that I can read.2 Not to mention Lichtenstein. I don’t know what it is with Lichtenstein hating me so much, but I’ve noticed, guys, and it hurts.

Rejection is a huge part of this business whether you’re published or not. I know some people say that if you’re neurotic about rejection you shouldn’t try to get published. But I can’t think of a single writer I know who isn’t neurotic about it. Obviously, some more than others, but we all feel the sting of rejection. We all fear it.

It’s just the way things are.

I hope that answers your question, Lotti.

Update: I have shifted the FAQ stuff to its own post as it was getting lost here.

  1. Which is a LOT of courage. You all know what that was like! [↩]
  2. A little. Not that well. [↩]

“I don’t really understand the beastly internet”

Ah hem. I think I’ll be calling it the “beastly internet” from now on.

The quote comes from The Observer where there’s a smart and interesting opinion piece by Jay Rayner on the differences between blog v newspaper critics, which basically comes down on the side of saying they both have their place. However, while the article talks about the diversity and varying standards of bloggery, it doesn’t mention that there are professional old-media critics who do not have the thirty years of knowledge and expertise of the critics interviewed for the article.

For instance, I cannot read a certain critic who writes the science fiction column for a certain newspaper because I know more about the subject than they do. Now admittedly I was a scholar of science fiction, and have two books on the subject, but frankly most average science fiction readers have a better knowledge base than that critic. There are hundreds of blogs out there that do a much better job of covering contemporary science fiction. Possibly thousands.

Moving away from critics for the moment, my biggest problem with journalism is that almost every time I know anything about the subject being covered it gets stuff wrong. Coverage of the young adult publishing boom has been astonishingly wrong-headed and stupid. The few journalists who’ve approached me for comments have asked questions so far off base that it was impossible to engage. I’d explain the wrong-headedness and they’d say, “Um, sure, but I’m on a deadline so could you tell me how you really wish you wrote adult books?”

Sigh. Old media is not a haven from bad writing and shoddy research. I approach it as a reader the same way I approach blogs: if the writer knows what they’re talking about and writes well, I read them. If they don’t, I don’t. I do read Josh Micah Marshall; I don’t read Maureen Dowd. I do read Bob Herbert; I don’t read Michelle Malkin. Kathi Maio is one of my favourite writers on film and the gofugyourself girls my favourites on fashion (even though they are frequently wrong about what’s fab). I often prefer Crikey to the Sydney Morning Herald. My favourite book reporting comes from the ABC’s Book Show. It’s a big ole mess of new and old media.

The article does mention one of the main pleasures of blogging: that it is amateur.

In my case doubly amateur: I blog because I love it and I do it without being paid. As it happens, I have been asked to review for some newspapers and various genre publications. I have said no because—despite the wider exposure—I wouldn’t enjoy it. There are enough deadlines in my life, thank you very much. Also I have zero interest in conforming to house style and curbing or expanding my word count.

On my own blog I can crap on about a given book or movie or whatever for as long or as little as I like. I can be as shallow or as deep as I want. I is the only boss of this blog. No one tells me what to write or how.

I can also introduce paragraph breaks whenever I want.

And that’s the way I like it.

Time is running out

If you would like me to name a character (or something) after you in my next novel you’d better hurry up and bid. I mean, if you can afford it. The bidding is now at—I swear I am not making this up—US$150.

You have until one minute past midnight on 15 July USA Pacific time to place your bids.

There are also many other amazing things up for auction. Including a map that Tamora Pierce put together for her book Trickster’s Queen. The bidding for it is currently at US$175. Personally, I think it’s worth more.

There are also all sorts of fabulous goodies over there: care packages from all over, baked goods, an astonishing array of most excellent things and services. Some haven’t been bid on! Some are going for silly cheap! You should get over there and bid!

All money goes to fight those who are against love and want to stop gay and lesbian marriage in California.

The problem of being a small English-speaking country

Some more thoughts on yesterday’s post:

Australia, like New Zealand and Canada and Jamaica and South Africa and many other mainly English-speaking countries, has had a long battle to publish its own stories by and for its own people. The majority of the books we buy and read are not by Australians but come from the UK and the USA. Creating our own publishing industry, which published Australian books was a struggle and to this day many Australian books are subsidised by the Australian government.

But despite all the obstacles and expenses there is an Australian publishing industry and it publishes many wonderful Australian writers. Peter Carey, now an internationally known writer, was first published by the University of Queensland Press. Well-known Australian YA writers like Margo Lanagan, Melina Marchetta, Jaclyn Moriarty, Garth Nix, and Marcus Zusak were all first published in Australia and that’s where they established their reputations. Their success in other markets came later.

If parallel importing had existed when they were first establishing themselves would they have been nurtured in the same way and gone on to the same kind of success?

I also wonder about the writers who are successful at home but have never made the transition to broader markets. What will happen to them under parallel importing? Will they no longer be published at all? Or be published by such small presses that it will be impossible to find their books?

And what about the Australian classics that are rarely, if ever, published or read overseas? Books like Miles Franklin’s My Brilliant Career, Henry Handel Richardson’s The Getting of Wisdom, Ethel Turner’s Seven Little Australians, Barbara Baynton’s Bush Studies, Sally Morgan’s My Place not to mention the works of Banjo Patterson, Ruth Park and Henry Lawson. What overseas publishing house will be interested in keeping them in print?

It’s also important to remember that those writers who are published overseas have to change their voices in order make sense to non-Australian audiences. As Nick Earls points out in his letter to Prime Minister Rudd against parallel importing, foreign editions of Australian books are not the same as the homegrown edition:

Also, it is common for changes—sometimes substantial changes—to be made before a book is published in an export market, particularly the US. Many Australian references are lost and idiomatic language is altered. These are compromises we make in order to be published in the US, and to communicate specifically with US readers.

Parallel importing must not be adopted.

Preventing the destruction of Australian publishing

Garth Nix is full of wisdom. He has written a very smart and wise and passionate argument against parallel importing. I agree with every single word.

Basically there are plans to allow booksellers to import foreign English-language editions of books into Australia without restriction. The argument is that this will bring down the heinous price of books. Australian books really are insanely expensive. I’ve seen mass market paperback for more than AU$20.1

However surrendering the Australian market is NOT the way to fix that problem. As Garth writes

I am surprised there is support for an “open” market in Australia because it would be no such thing. It would actually be a “surrendered” market. The entire publishing world still works on the basis of territorial copyright and it will do so for a long time to come, despite electronic editions and the Internet, of which I will have more to say down the page. This is particularly the case with English-language publishing. The USA and the UK have actually been strengthening their respective book copyright regimes, not surrendering them. What is “open” about Australian-published books not being able to be sold in the USA or the UK, but American, British or any other English-language edition from anywhere being able to be freely sold here?

Internet retailers would be able to sell books much much cheaply than real world booksellers because they don’t have to worry about attracting passing customers and thus can have their operations out in the much cheaper boondocks. Unlike the real world booksellers who not only pay higher rents but have to make sure their book shops are well-kept and inviting to customers. They also have to pay more staff. And the bigger the internet retailer—like Amazon—the easier it would be for them to sell books cheaper and wipe out all competition. Parallel importing would be a disaster for local booksellers. Just as it would be a disaster for local publishers.

It would also make it a lot harder for Australian writers to get published:

But besides the Australian publishers and booksellers, you know who would really be affected by a Surrendered Market? Beginning authors, like I was, twenty years ago, when my first book was published by an Australian publisher, and sold by Australian bookshops. That same beginning author, in a brave new world of a Surrendered Market, would likely have only small presses to go to here, or needs must go straight into competition against every English-speaking author in the world who wants to be published in the USA or the UK.

The majority of Australian writers will tell you how difficult it is to get published overseas. The introduction of parallel importing means that will be their only option.

Like Garth I am not speaking from narrow self-interest as the introduction of parallel imports is unlikely to have much of an affect on my career because I am primarily published out of the USA. But Australia is my country and I care passionately about developments that will dramatically reduce the number of Australian books in the world.

I have friends who have not been picked up by publishing houses in the US and the UK because their books are “too Australian” and not sufficiently “universal to have appeal outside Australia”. Whether that’s true or not (I can think of any number of extremely Oz books that have been published to great success in the US) it is true that if you are mainly submitting to a foreign market it will affect how you write. Killing off the local Australian publishing industry is going to kill off many uniquely and wonderfully Australian voices.

I think that will be a disaster.

  1. The US and Australian dollars are approaching parity. [↩]

Post-a-Rejection-Letter Friday

Tempest Bradford links to Shaun C. Green who has declared today post-a-rejection-letter Friday. Tempest also links to an INSANE rejection of Ursula K. Le Guin’s brilliant Left Hand of Darkness which is one of my favourite books of all time. The person who wrote that letter clearly read an entirely different book. Possibly one by Ayn Rand.

My rejection letters are in a filing cabinet in Sydney. The only bit I can remember from them is from a rejection I received in the 1980s that included the following PS:

If you insist on writing under a pseudonym it is best to also include your real name. Thank you.

The crazy outlandish pseudonym I used? Why, that would be “Justine Larbalestier”. I know! What was I thinking?

I do have a few rejections from Strange Horizons—they do everything electronically—but they’re all super nice and encouraging so that’s no fun. Sidenote: If you write sf or fantasy short stories I strongly recommend them as a market. They publish great stories, they respond promptly, and their rejection letters are really nice even when they clearly hated your story.

I just remembered another one, which came from an English magazine. It went something like this, “You write beautifully but this story is completely pointless. Please don’t waste our time again until you learn to plot.” Ouch! They were right though. Sigh.

Post a rejection letter of your own! The club of those who have received them is a very very very big one.