In The Jungle,

Only the Writing Community Will Understand This

2012-02-03T05:30:00.000-08:00

So I knew a writer a while back who was trying to draft the perfect query letter. She came to me for a spot of advice after several failed attempts. I could see why it wasn't going so well - hers was a sci-fi novel with an intricate sport involving hovercraft racing, and she'd invented this whole web of world-building with a million parts that all needed some measure of explanation.

I told her she needed to start her query with her main character, because we have to create an emotional connection with the MC from page one, etc., etc. But writer-buddy was diametrically opposed to the notion. "The world-building is one of the most important parts," she insisted. "Not including it in the hook is like not mentioning that my main character doesn't have a left leg."

I sighed. "Yes, writer-buddy, I know it's important. But if you just start describing the world, no one's going to care. There's no emotional investment in some place you start talking about unless it's related to a character's conflict. A protagonist's conflict."

"Whatever, say what you want," she said. "I'm starting with the races and you can't stop me."

"I know you have to explain the racing somewhere in the query, just don't do it at the very beginning. Your hook is supposed to be the most interesting part of the letter - do you really want it to be some factoid about the science of hovering?"

"I'm not moving my hovercrafts," she said. "I refuse. The races are staying in the hook."

Eventually, I conceded. Writer-buddy went on to send out three rounds of queries, and to my almost-horror, she came back with a 40% request rate . . . which just goes to show that you can't budge a hook by its hover.

...

...

...

BAHAHAHAHAHA!

(yes all of that was entirely untrue i just wanted to make the pun oh god oh god)

HAPPY FRIDAY! don't kill me

All the best,
Riley

The Empress and the Comic

2012-02-01T05:30:00.000-08:00

A good writer-buddy, Sakura Eries, has had a short story published in the latest issue of Scape! It's called The Empress and the Comic, and it's a romantic YA re-imagining of Hans Christian Andersen's Nightingale, with steampunk elements. This story is seriously delicious.

Scape is a free e-zine, so you should check it out! You won't regret it - Sakura is a brilliant writer, and the story is fantastic!

http://scapezine.com/2012/issue-3/the-empress-and-the-comic/

Meritocracy

2012-01-31T05:30:00.000-08:00

And again we descend into the thorny land of e-publishing discussion, where one must be careful not to step on toes at every turn, where one checks over both shoulders before using the term "Evil Empire," where one spies unjustified badmouthing of agents, publishers, and indie/self-pubbers alike. Golly, who knew the publishing biz was as much of a hotbed for drama as high school homeroom? All that's missing is a lot of tongue-clicking, eye-rolling, and cursing. (Wait, no, there's definitely been cursing. My bad.)

Unnecessary preludes aside, I have a question for all ye of the self-pubbing inclination.

(By the way, I hope not to offend anyone with my use of the term "self-pub." I'm still torn about referring to self-pubbing as indie-pubbing; it confuses my brain because I took ages to learn exactly what indie publishing companies were. And now they're like CHANGE IT and i'm like NOOOo)

So *hem* anyway, my question is this: How is the eBook world supposed to prevent itself from turning into an intricate political system with reliance on funding to match? I haven't heard/seen this issue bandied about too much, which surprises me, actually. My point is that when someone has the cash to promote their eBook all over Facebook or Google or what have you, they'll obviously get more views.

So say we've got someone with $10,000 to burn on marketing - a badass cover, a kick-butt promotional program ... and mediocre writing skills. Then compare that to someone who's boss at their writerly ways, but can't afford the price of ad-spewing. The latter is left in the lurch. Without spamming forums mindlessly, one can only get so far, given time constraints and the vastness of the interwebz.

One would hope the disparity in exposure would be more than made up for by hypothetical unbiased judging of the two works and reviews reflecting the true merit of each. But hey, the general reading public is shockingly not-picky sometimes. Perhaps it makes me (pardon the French) an elitist douchebag, but sometimes I'm flabbergasted what readers will give 5 stars to.

My question is, in such an inundated market - and I'm pretty sure no one will argue that the market isn't inundated - how can we keep the system a meritocracy, rather than a plutocracy? I by no means want to imply that traditional publishing is a full meritocracy at the moment, by the way. There's doubtless some buried gold that tradpubbing has neglected due to trends, length constraints, the economy, etc., etc. But right now, anyone who has an email address could, in hypothesis, find an agent, who could find them a publisher. For free. And I think that's fantastic.

The freedom to design your own cover, formatting, promotional program, etc. is certainly appealing, but it has its caveats. I'm seventeen (read: unemployed), so I don't have money to spend on any of the above. And in my opinion, if traditional publishing were to die out, those writers with access to large amounts of moolah would instantly gain the upper hand over my dirt-broke behind, and other behinds as dirt-broke as mine.

I guess plain ol' friend-to-friend recommendations is what we'd have to rely on. After all, I don't trust reviews from strangers all the time - especially when there aren't many of them. An overall rating of 4.5 aggregated from 10,000 reviews is a lot more convincing than a 4.5 from 10.

We should come up with a plan. If ever the world does transition entirely to digi-land (I would rue the day; I like my tree-killing clunkers ... but that aside), the reading community should seriously have a plan of action. There are only so many hours to spend on reading in our lives, and I personally want to love as many of those hours as possible.

I just don't know what we can do to ensure we find the quality amidst the quantity.

Do you?

All the best,
Riley

Query Critique Opportunity

2012-01-20T17:11:00.000-08:00

Hey guys! Agent Meredith Barnes at Lowenstein Associates is running a fun tit-for-tat over at her blog. You spread the word about a list of Lowenstein clients' books, and she will critique your query. This is open until SUNDAY so get on it, kids! Guidelines are at the blog link above.

So here's the booklist - many of them sound awesome. You may have noticed me pimping them on Twitter. (I sort of wimped out on the nonfiction, though, because it's sort of inappropriate for folks my age. XD But now that I have more room to explain...)

Deborah Camp (A mix of contemporary and Old West Historical romances...over 40 coming in the near future, but here is a list of 10 or so available now)
Lorena Dureau (Historical Romance: American Colonial South and West. Very Sexy)
Dan Streib (thrillers with a James-Bond-meets-Anderson-Cooper main character)
Barbara Keesling (her too-hot-to-blog nonfiction is here, here, and here)

Enjoy! Tweet! Blog! Et cetera! Support writers --> fun and profit!

All the best,

Riley

Pitch and First 150 for Brenda Drake's Contest

2012-01-15T15:20:00.000-08:00

Title: I'M GAME
Genre: YA Sci-fi Thriller
Word count: 72,000

Pitch:

Dodge expects normal enhancements, like extra limbs, enhancements that'll help him win the Game and escape the slums - but his operation isn't normal. He must fight not only to win, but to stay human.

First 150:

The com on my wall buzzes, spitting out the voice of my best friend Tag. “Dodge, you there?”

I don’t want to untangle myself from my bunk’s covers to answer. The heating in our apartment shell is broken for the second time this winter, and besides this bundle of blankets, there’s no way to ward off the chill leaking in around my bedroom window.

Despite my lack of response, Tag keeps talking. “I know you’re there, bud. Sitting in your bunk and trying to ignore me. Don’t think you’re getting away with it – I’m gonna keep talking until you answer.” A pause. “Yes, that was a threat.”

I roll my eyes. Tag’s not kidding. He’ll go on for hours if I don’t shut him up.

I slide out of my bunk, the icy air calling the hair on the back of my neck to attention. As I rub the goosebumps away, my fingers trail over the microchip beneath my hair.

Taking the Path of Most Resistance

2012-01-11T05:00:00.000-08:00

It's no fun knowing things for sure.

Okay, as it goes with my blanket statements, let's qualify that somewhat.

Times when I would rather know something for sure:
1) When I'm trying to think of an equation for a physics test.
2) When I'm listening to someone sing and wondering, Erm, what key is this in? (#awkward)
3) When I've received food and am trying to discern whether or not it is, in fact, edible.
4) Not while I'm reading.
5) Not while I'm reading.
6) Not while I'm reading.
7) Repeat steps 4-7.

I've only read a few books where I've reached the end and thought, "Ho hum, I got nothing out of that. Nothing at all." I've felt that way about more than a few movies, though, and usually that's because the movie-maker isn't brave enough to stop holding my hand.

It's something a little terrifying and more than a little exhilarating when you see a film, or read a book, that brings you true surprise. You believe the author really could kill off the main character; you believe the movie-maker really would plumb the absolute depths of misery and drag you along through all the accompanying emotional turmoil. So many books and movies are so safe - there's no real danger. So I love it when I have no clue what the architect of the story is willing to do to the characters, and ipso facto, me, the reader - when I'm scared about how far they might go.

That doesn't necessarily mean the story has to be violent or death-filled, of course. (Though that helps! I unabashedly love gritty angsty violent books. :D) But it does mean that the story has to have a grip on me. It means that, every step of the way, the main character has something to lose, and the reader is terrified that the character will lose just that.

It's part of the reason, I think, why The Hunger Games has such a hold on the eyes. Suzanne Collins is a master of fear, a master of the stakes.

After reading stakes like those in THG, it's hard to cut other books slack for not making me fear for the characters. If, at the beginning, I can predict with any degree of accuracy the course the story takes to get to the height of its danger, I won't be satisfied after reading, because it means the author's taken the safe way out.

Doubt is one of the most powerful tools we have. It's what creates the page-turner compulsion. If the tension never lets up, whether it's a quiet intimate scene or a war scene, we have power over the reader's choice to continue reading or set the book down.

Heh heh... this post makes me sound like a megalomaniac.

Ah well. *shrug*

Anyway. If I love a protagonist, as a general rule, I want them to suffer. I want them to have to battle. I want them to get kicked while they're down and beaten to within an inch of their sanity and I want to be horrified that the author would do that. (Even if it's just figurative abuse.) I want to think, oh, God, how did they get into this and how on earth will they ever get out? It's at the moment when Harry Potter is hopeless and wandless and imprisoned that I love him the most; it's when Peter Parker is outmatched and half-unconscious that I feel like I'm living through the fight with him.

Why am I so sadistic? Well, I'll tell you, gentle reader!

It's so, so satisfying when they claw their way out of that trench. The long haul - the path of most resistance - makes the reader feels accomplished by having survived even the recounting of the tale.

By the end, the main character shouldn't just be a main character. She, he, or it should be a hero, and I don't care what genre you write.

Put it all on the line. Your characters deserve the satisfaction at the end of the saga. And so do your readers.

All the best,
Riley

In Which I Resolve to Not Resolve

2012-01-01T16:07:00.000-08:00

Let's face it, dudes. I'm terrible at resolutions. I've kept zero New Year's Resolutions, ever. Regularity just isn't my style. So no resolution here.

However! As of 3:26 PM today, I have officially filled out my LAST COLLEGE APPLICATION. OH YES. OH HELL YES. Plus, it's the new year! So now is a time for celebration. I'm going to leave some of my favorite gifs here, because gifs = party.

Hope your New Year is a joyous one! I'll be back to a semi-normal posting schedule soon, now that college is kaput. Wahey!

All the best,

Riley

The Difference

2011-12-05T03:00:00.000-08:00

I usually try to keep my blog posts centered on topics far from my personal life - partially because I don't like splatting my identity across the internet - but I'll approach the Secret Life of Riley a little more closely today. Just so you know. Also, for the purposes of this post, let's say you have a female main character. It'll just simplify things.

So, I'm seventeen. We knew that already. Which means I'm about the age of most protagonists in YA lit, give or take a year or two.

I'd love to talk with you guys about teenage romance, because it's a tough chord to strike. In fact, I'd wager it's THE toughest chord to strike. The giddy flying laughing feeling of brushing your arm against his for the first time? The plunge of the stomach? So hard to recreate with honesty. I don't know for sure if that I-know-I'm-acting-idiotic-but-I-don't-care feeling fades after teenager-land, but either way, recapturing it while doing your MC's personality justice is hard. I know - I've read enough books where the romance element makes me hate the main character, and that's obnoxious. I'm like, I liked you so much, and now you're acting like someone whose brains have been replaced with antifreeze!

I guess I'm especially picky about romance in that I look for flaws more than positives. The more aware of a love interest's flaws a girl MC is, the more appeal the couple has for me, because it shows that the heroine has her feet on the ground, and it feels like she's falling for a real person. Probably one of the reasons I liked Kody Keplinger's THE DUFF so much was that the first thing Bianca notices about Wesley is his faults.

Also, I love to see a slow-burning romance, a la ANNA AND THE FRENCH KISS. They get to know each other. Anna and St. Clair become - shock! - friends. Same with the romance element in DIVERGENT. These felt wonderful and natural to me.

There are certain elements of realism to these three examples that I just can't see in many other romances. Yes, love is blind; yes, the MC might think her boyfriend is perfect when she's in that euphoric love-state. But she can't just fall into that state like BOOM. If it does happen quickly, every second had better be mapped out so it doesn't feel sudden. Because I haven't seen a single couple last in high school, when they started with the instant love syndrome.

Let me give you a snapshot into high school dating life, yes? The kids who start dating after three days of knowing each other are laughed at by other kids. They're scorned. People think they have no chance of lasting. And invariably, that hypothesis is correct.

I guess a part of the fictional experience is the desire to see something like that work, and work well. But I've just never seen it done to a degree where it makes me believe it. The relationships I believe in are ones where the characters suffer to get there. They work to achieve union. They don't just waltz into it with the occasional over-convenient plot device; they don't just meet at a party, get together three days later, and get to have a perfect love. That is not how the world I know works.

The love at first date thing isn't infrequent in high school. It happens. The thing is, I think kids all know on some level that it's not something that's made to work. On some level, you can't fully build the structure of a healthy relationship in three days.

Like most things in a teenager's life, this knowledge is hugely influenced by family life, imo. Kids whose parents are married know the hard work that goes into long, lasting relationships. Kids whose parents might not be married anymore know the effect of a love that didn't work out. And that possibility - the possibility of failure - is the one thing that stops me from believing a literary romance. If you don't sell me your characters as a two-person deal - if you don't make me believe that, after I turn the last page, the characters will keep loving each other and having great conversation and growing more and more interested in each other - you've lost me. The love story cannot simply stop at "the end".

Friends - especially best friends - have an uncanny knack for knowing exactly which relationships are good for their buddies. They know which boyfriends are just in passing as opposed to those who'll last a year or more. But it's not just the friends. I think kids even know the difference when it comes to themselves. I do think the teenagers I know can stand back, look objectively at their dating situation to some level, and guess, If I'm going to be honest, this probably won't work in the long run, but it's going to be fun while it lasts. or This is something that could be serious.

Okay, here's my personal example: I have crushes like any girl I know. They come, they hit, they fade.

But there's someone else, one specific guy. He's always in the back of my mind. It's been about two and a half years since I fell for him - and it's almost absurd, but I can pinpoint the exact day when it happened, when I realized the extent of what I felt for him. It's agonizing, in a way, that the whole ordeal has been so distended and unrequited. I can't call it a crush. I don't feel qualified to call it love. It's just there, like an ache.

If I'm going to really believe a romance, I will feel that ache. I will feel need beyond the usual giddiness and happiness and excitement of a crush. I will be reminded of that part of myself that can't let go of him because he's different. Yes, I'm seventeen. Yes, I can be silly and boy-crazy. Yes, so can most girls. But if your main character's love interest is nothing more than face value - if he starts that way and continues to be defined that way - I'm sorry, but there's something fundamentally missing there. Your character should be changed when she considers her love for that boy. She with him should be a different character from she without him - almost a character in and of itself, subtle and nuanced. And if the relationship is a really good one, the reader will like she with him just as much as - or more than - she without.

Just remember how much vulnerability there is in falling, you know? There's fear alongside the exhilaration. Don't topple into the strong-character trap - the trap of the girl who's always funny and witty and snappy and knows just what to do. Real people are not like that. Especially not when faced with the possibility of rejection. And God knows real teenagers are not like that.

Well, uh, that's it for me. I don't really have a fancy closer for this one. I just wanted to remind the world that teenagers aren't without self-awareness.

In other news, this will be my last post for a while. I'm descending back into blog hiatus status, to my chagrin. Just a couple more months of worrying about college ... gah ...

All the best,
Riley

Where Have the Reviews Gone?

2011-11-25T05:00:00.000-08:00

You may recall my promise AGES BACK that I was working on a review for Kristin Cashore's GRACELING. Well, I came across this post, and it disturbed me, because I instantly saw the logic in it.

For those of you who aren't inclined to click links and stuff, the basic gist of the article is this: Aspiring authors aren't encouraged by the general publishing industry to post negative reviews of others' work, because a publisher/agent might be less inclined to take you on if you've negatively reviewed something they've published/agented.

I think this is an intriguing topic, and I'm actually torn. On one hand, I'm like, weeell, if I don't have anything nice to say, I might as well not say it, right? But on the other hand, I think it's the job of the book-readin' sphere to stay honest to ourselves and each other. No, public bashing isn't appropriate. I hate reading a disrespectful review of someone's work. But I'll always take someone's points into consideration if they're made in a clear, competent, classy fashion - and better, I'll discover which books might be for me, and which aren't.

Real talk time: The importance of reviews to me goes double for self-published work. The sheer breadth of material we have to sift through in the self-publishing category makes it twice as hard for us to know what's quality. The fact that there are so rarely a large number of reviews makes it thrice as hard. Books with wide release - Divergent, Anna and the French Kiss - they have thousands of reviews and ratings, so to a degree, I can put blind trust in their 4.5 star marks, because I don't have particularly eclectic taste. But a novel someone's releasing by themselves? The small number of reviews only makes it more crucial that positive reviewers explain what they LOVED about it, to a T. And equally important is that negative reviewers explain what turned them off. Word of mouth is so important, and I want to be able to trust all reviews, positive and negative.

At the end of the day, here's my perspective: If I read endless gushing reviews about a book, get excited about it, pay for it, and am let down beyond all belief, I think it's my right as a reader to let other potential buying markets know about the pitfall they too might encounter. And I say might, because my liking or disliking something isn't an end-all-be-all. It's merely another opinion. And the spread of opinions, imo, is what gives reviews their value at all.

I think an aspiring author's omitted opinion is a dangerous thing. I fully understand why an agent might not take on a client who doesn't like the agent's other work. That's a matter of taste - if you don't like the stuff your work partner clearly loves, why should you work together? But a publishing house not wanting to endorse an author who has denounced another book by that publisher ... isn't that a little petty? If it's really just the author's work that matters, why should that author's personal opinion flavor an acquisition?

Dammit, I keep answering my own questions immediately after asking them. Okay, yes, from a business standpoint, it's a bad idea. If this author rises to fame and their bad word on the other book kills that other book's sales, it'll hurt.

But I stand by my opinion. Aspiring authors surely make up a significant percent of the book-buying populace. If our voices are silent - if there aren't any writers talking freely and honestly about others' writing - then we're skewing those ratings. Maybe we're skewing them up by only giving positives; maybe the absence of reviews at all is skewing them down. It doesn't matter which way it goes - it's the notion of skewing in and of itself. We owe it to each other and, in my opinion, the author to put our opinions in the pot. If I'm ever published, I don't want my readers to sugarcoat. I don't want them to senselessly bash me, of course, but yes, if my novel ever turns into a book, I'll probably search out the negative reviews, and try to see where people felt my work fell short. Maybe this is just me. Maybe I'm weirdly masochistic that way. But it's the truth. I think an omission of the truth is a lie, and that truth doesn't need to be vitriolic or disrespectful, but I think it should be there nonetheless.

That said, the purpose of reviewing is to inform people who haven't read a book about the book, yeah? If there's nothing helpful in a review, it isn't a review. It is a rant. I will never review a book and say only bad, useless things. I think everything has a redeemable factor, or else it wouldn't be published, and perhaps that redeemable factor is what would make another reader fall in love. I'd never wash out the good in favor of the bad. Dangit, I would just be honest.

That post up top really hit home. It disturbed me, in a way. Like a bribe, or even a threat: Stay quiet, or there go your chances at publication. My Graceling-review momentum shattered when I read it, but I'll get the thing up soon. There's a book, at least, that I don't have to worry about negatively reviewing.

What do you guys think? Please do tell me your thoughts - I'm really curious.

All the best,
Riley

Regular Writing

2011-11-21T05:30:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I received a question on my last post pertaining to whether I write every day (from Aya, who is funny and cool and whom you should check out).

My answer: YES, I write every day. I believe everyone should write daily, and here's why:

Momentum.

During cross country (and, in the interest of full disclosure, I'm an awful runner, but hey, roll with it), the coaches always told us not to stop running. It just makes it harder to start again. And okay, no, running isn't writing. (One is enjoyable.) But to me, the concept seems essentially the same. If your wheels grind to a halt, they're going to take a certain amount of energy to start again.

Even if you spend your writing hiatus thinking like a writer - "Oh, look, there's a plot idea!" you may say, or "The way she looks at the world is just perfect for my MC's sister!" - the exercise isn't there. You're not taking things from your brain and spilling them onto paper.

And okay, sometimes the words will spill slowly. Sometimes you may only have two minutes and thirty-seven seconds to spill them. But I think two minutes and thirty-seven seconds is more than enough to consider some important things: settling into the voice of your character; picking up where you left off and making it a smooth transition into the next sentence; pushing toward the next objective and holding the stakes tight with tension. Yes, I believe we can do those things in 2:37. I believe we can do them in one sentence.

Then, of course, I have a whole host of reasons which may only pertain to me. I feel like I'm losing a grip on the immediate direction the plot is headed if I go a day without. I feel like I've wasted my 24 precious hours if I go a day without. I feel like my characters will miss me if I go a day without (yeah... there's probably medication for that or something). I feel like I'm taking a step backward if I go a day without. And, the simplest - I can't go a day without.

How about you? Are you a daily writer?

All the best,
Riley

Backspace, Part II: THE PITCH

2011-11-08T05:30:00.000-08:00

My first ever in-person pitch was filled with much awkward stammering, some oxygen deprivation due to my inability to breathe deeply, and, ultimately, a sinking feeling that I could have done my novel far more justice. So no. Not a brilliant experience there.

Luckily, my first pitch was not my last pitch. I persevered. By the end - I believe I made five pitches - I could speak calmly and succinctly, and answer questions posed to me with coherence. Coherence! And, dare I say it, confidence!

In the interest of full disclosure, I've never been to a pitch session. I would imagine those are stressful for all parties involved, because you have that oh-god-I-have-one-minute-to-forestall-doom feeling. (See, Backspace has no pitch sessions. They have fifteen minutes between each panel or workshop so the authors can meet the agents in a relaxed atmosphere.)

But I digress. The actual pitch seems like a fine art, just like the query, and this post shall hopefully shed some light on making it fun and exciting for everyone involved.

The difference between querying and pitching for me is that I think querying is by nature fun and exciting, because opening my email to an agently response feels a bit like Christmas, and because I'm comfortable with the written word. But pitching, the very notion of it, involved no Christmassy emotion. It struck fear in my poor heart. Oh God! I thought. What if they think my idea is asinine? Will they just snort and walk away? What if they can see I'm nervous?

Well. No one snorted or walked away.

I think the most important thing to remember going into a pitch is that you're speaking to a person. Yes, you should have the pitch memorized (unless you're a genius improviser), but if you sound like you're just rattling off facts, it's not engaging and doesn't do you or your story any favors. Make eye contact, make sure your body language is actively involved ... and be prepared to answer questions, because once you say your logline/two-sentence-pitch/whatever, it doesn't just, like, stop. You've struck up a conversation. They might ask about the stakes or the worldbuilding, and hoo boy, it's not nice to get caught off-guard. (Hey there, pitch #1!)

Hands-down, the stupidest thing to surprise me at the conference was that agents. really. love. stories. I mean, I knew this beforehand - which is why it's dumb that it surprised me - but I didn't understand the extent of it until the conference. During workshops, the agents got involved with every story as quickly as if they'd been working with the project for ages. And it was the same for my pitch. It was a nice surprise that they were instantly willing to invest in my novel. No skepticism or judgment, just a nice, civilized conversation ... about a futuristic society where people can grow extra appendages on demand. No biggie, right? NOT FOR AGENTS IT ISN'T! =D

All right, real talk time. Running on my experiences, I've come up with one rule to rule them all:

Assume the agents are on your side. Because ... wait for it ... they are.
If you're expecting a positive reaction, you'll be calmer, cooler, and more collected. And come on - logically, there's no reason they would want or expect you to mess up. You guys both want the same thing: to tell a fantastic story. Logically, there is no reason to fear.

Yes, agents probably deal with a lot of stammery, nervous people, which could make it sort of okay if you are nervous and stammery ... but why not make it easier for you and them? Just tell it like it is. Chill out and say the words you've written and rewritten. Of course there's pressure, 'cause impressions are important, and business impressions are especially so - but that's all the more reason to give the impression that you're in a comfortable atmosphere. If this is someone you want to work with, you should get along as people. Which involves, y'know, human speech. And interaction. And stuff.

I came up with a couple of subordinate rules:

1) Be professional. If yours isn't their kind of story, thank them and move on, don't harangue them. Talking more does not change the essence of your story and it won't change their personal taste. Have grace and respect and an open attitude.

2) Don't be a doormat. Think about it - a preemptive apology for your work doesn't say anything good about it. Have confidence! And have energy. This is your opportunity, not your execution.

3) Be prepared. Be prepared for extra questions. Be prepared for what you'll do should you get an unfavorable reaction. Be prepared for a sword-swinging ninja to burst through the ceiling. You know, normal stuff like that. Just cover your bases, and there's no need to stress. If you're prepared, you can totally chill out! You will be the most relaxed cat around. (But don't be overly familiar. No "Yo, sup agent lady!" type stuff. See #1.)

And... that's it.

Honestly, if you follow the Golden Rule and mini-rules #1-3, things should go well. At the beginning, I expected doom from the outset, I apologized, and I realized I hadn't prepared adequately. Broke three out of four rules. By the end, I was a firm adherent to the rules, and I felt great after pitching.

I'm telling you, guys. This is like one of those stupid before-and-after ads. "Before, Riley was just an awkward babbling fool who totally didn't know what she was saying! Now, she can speak the English language with ... that's right, folks: coherence." And I am the lowest common denominator. If I can do this, with my general social phobia, you definitely can. If you're awkward like me, just pretend you're not. Fake it 'til you make it, dude.

Unless you have worse social phobia than I. In which case, conferences may not be for you in the first place, but it's all good! That's why queries exist. (WOOHOO QUERYING IS SO FUN!!! *is shot*)

If you're going to a conference in the near future, let me know how the pitching goes! And if you have a rule to add to the Four, leave 'em in the comments fasho! I'd hate to miss something.

All the best,
Riley

Backspace, Part I: SHOW, DON'T TELL

2011-11-05T05:00:00.000-07:00

Dear friends,

This isn't the post you think it will be. I'm not going to talk about the writing technique of "Show, don't tell." I mean, I could, but other, wiser folk have already done that extremely well. (If people are telling you that your ms has a lot of 'telling,' you should read those articles. Yes, all of them. They're phenomenal.)

Okay, back to the point. Here's the #1 thing I took away from Backspace Writers Conference: Show, don't tell is real life. Oh, yes. Yes it is.

Here's a simple application: I could tell you how amazing Backspace was. I could rant about the friendly people; the constructive, energized atmosphere; the amount I learned; the confidence it gave me in my knowledge of the industry and how to better my own work - but what you'd get from me ranting about it would hardly even scrape the surface. I highly recommend you go, and let the conference show you how awesome it is, rather than me telling you. [endadvertisement]

Okay, here's the example I was leading up to: Agents constantly TELL us how subjective the business is, but to be honest, we're not always SHOWN that. Look at the way querying is structured. Agents don't have nearly enough time to give each rejected writer a personalized response, which means we get either 'yes' or 'no.' We count up stats and look at numbers. We say, "This person got a 43% request rate: this is a "good" query." Our secret, inner question: How subjective can it be when "good" queries lead to requests and representation and "bad" queries don't?

THING IS: "good query" does not necessarily equate to "query that gets obscene amount of requests." "Good query" means "query that entices agents who are a good fit." Maybe that 43% request rate is the sign of a savvy writer who did enough research to know EXACTLY who would be interested in his work, and queried appropriately. There are all sorts of variables we don't have the resources to factor in. When you're trying to fit a story to a personality, you can't account for the rejections you'll receive. Maybe they love the concept, but were looking for a literary voice, and you're super-commercial. Maybe they love the commercial voice, but the concept is too girly for them. We don't and can't know.

When you sit through four different panels with the same work, with the agents rotating in and out, you really see how much of an issue of personal taste it is. "Your conflict feels constrained," said one agent of my query, on Day 1 (paraphrased, but this was the essence); "it feels like there should be some larger issue you're addressing." This was a broadly-change-your-query sort of suggestion, so I nodded and took a note, deciding to wait until after the conference to alter it so I could mull over possible changes. What happened on Day 2? That issue wasn't even mentioned by any of the three agents on the next query panel. What one person sees in a letter isn't going to be true of others. (Same goes for pages - the variation in agent reaction to pages was truly remarkable.)

This reinforces what I've been thinking about queries for ages: Their sole job is to represent the manuscript. A fantastic query letter isn't going to magically make every single agent want to read the manuscript, because every story isn't for everyone. All you have to do is make sure your query adequately portrays your story. Then your job is DONE! The rest is up to the agents. If you're giving us a perfectly clear picture of your novel, it doesn't mean you'll get a request. It means the agents who are a good fit will know they're a good fit.

This was so easy to see in the workshop format, and it was also easy to see how much is lost in translation over the internet. "The business is so subjective," they tell us in the form rejection, but all we can think of when we see the email is the word "no." No no no no. To us, four rejections means four NOs, four your-work-is-plain-and-simple-not-good-enoughs. But that's so wrong. There could be a lot of "yes" in their reaction, just not enough for it to be a request.

Think of it this way: Each 'form' rejection has a personalized intent. Maybe you were ALMOST there, but there was one dealbreaking factor. Or hey, maybe you were just totally off the mark. But agents do not reject queries just because they are, quote, bad, unquote. There's a host of diverse reasons they can choose from. And, yes, quality of writing can be one of those reasons. It sure as hell helps to have perfect grammar, varied sentence structure, and a vocabulary representative of the manuscript, because your query is a promise for what's to come. But there are other factors, not related to the quality of the writing at all: Voice, characters, marketability, atmosphere, type of conflict. And all you need is for one of these factors to be different from what they like and want to see, and that's it.

Okay, that sounds super-depressing and discouraging. DON'T BE DISCOURAGED! The amount of stuff that could deal-break in a query is EXACTLY THE SAME as the amount there is to love. But guys, that stupid break-up line really is true: It's not us. It's them.

And psh, I'm not accusing agents of having some sort of fault. Their taste in books helps them be truly passionate about the projects they DO take on. Would you really like an agently omnivore who says, "Meh, might as well represent this project. I'm not super into the genre, but it's well-written, I guess." or one who says, "I was just thirsting for a ghost story set in the 70s! I will CHAMPION this!"

I know who I'd choose.

It's really hard for agents to show us all this when they only have time for a form rejection. So they have to settle for telling. But remember there's more there than 'no.' There's always more. There's just no way for them to let us know.

Welp, that's the end of my query rant. I had something else to say about SHOW DON'T TELL, but don't you know, I forgot it. *rolleyes*

Fun side fact to round out this post: Interestingly, one agent told me I did so much showing in my opening pages that she had no idea what was going on. XD You know what they say about too much of a good thing...

I don't know how many posts will be in the Backspace series, but I'm guessing 3 or 4 more, probably. I'm trying to refrain from simply rambling about how much fun I had. Of course, being surrounded by writerly folk was enough of a boon in and of itself (FINALLY people who understand the connotations of editing! of querying! of getting an agent!). But yeah, it was a ball. Usually, I'm socially awkward to the point where it's just, like, painful, but I didn't even have the opportunity to be awk here. The agents were absolutely professional - if I were you, I would query them. Like seriously, do it now. =] Find the list here.

Next post will be on face-to-face pitching.

All the best,
Riley

It's Time.

2011-11-01T14:05:00.000-07:00

Here's what tomorrow's to-do list looks like:

1) Get up at 7:00 (AM, unfortunately).
2) Go to school at 8:00.
3) Stay there until 3:40 PM.
4) Drive to the airport.
5) Get on a plane.
6) Be on a plane.
7) Remove myself from the plane when it lands in New York City.

Let it be known by all, friends/Romans/countrymen: I, Riley Redgate, am going to a Fancy Conference in New York. Backspace Writers Conference (!!!), to be specific. I am trembling in trepidation, and part of me longs to absquatulate to avoid the inevitable agowilt upon arrival ... but DAMN I'M STOKED.

(Yep, I went to serious lengths to get those a-words. Aren't they fun, though? "Absquatulate" means "to flee," and "agowilt" means "sudden sickening and unnecessary fear." I've needed that word so many times in my life! *adds to permanent vocabulary*)

So, heeeere'sthedeal: I'm planning to have a series of Fancy Posts for you during/after Backspace. I don't know exactly how much I'm allowed to reveal, but I'm sure I'll leave the conference a wiser woman (or, um, girl. child. whatever i am) than I am now, and I'd love to share all I can with you. Do keep an eye on my Twitter feed for random snippets of ... things, probably quotes from those far more worldly than I. They will probably be helpful, and stuff.

(God, my specificity goes too far.)

Also, because I'm the luckiest person ever to live, I'll have the pleasure of seeing this Thursday night, which will merit a post for sure. That's right, folks: In the midst of a writers conference, I will be watching a play about a creative writing class. Starring Snape. (Cue the cry of the hipsters: "I LOVED HIM BEFORE HE WAS SNAPE!")

I fear my geekery may have gone too far. Ah! but such glorious geekery it is.

Okay, legit, though, my one fear about the next couple days is that there seems to be no way to go UP from this point. I think this may actually be the highlight of my entire life.

If any of you, my dear blogging/tweeting/AQCing friends, are in the city Thursday or Friday, I'd love to meet you for lunch or dinner! (In a safe and public area! So my parents don't have conniptions!) =]

Wish me luck. The socially awkward high schooler is packing her business attire and heading to Kinko's to make copies of her query and first two pages ... and then it's go time.

In the poetic words of my generation: "Dis s*** bout 2 go down."

Much love!

All the best,
Riley

Casting Call

2011-10-25T20:21:00.000-07:00

Man, I miss blogging! I'm popping back in to make a quick post for this bundle of fun:

Lord help me, I have other posts due - I need to pass on the love from the epic Jemi Fraser and the magnificent Jenny Phresh - but I figured this one would be quick, since... hehe... I already HAVE pictures of my cast. XD I don't usually do this, but I was bored one afternoon and I was like, hmm... what would my characters look like?

Anyway. Introducing the main cast of I'M GAME. Some of these photos aren't exactly age-accurate, but what the hey, let's use our imaginations. =]

DODGE TELLMAN, 17, is a serious, hardworking boy who doesn't let himself dream too much. He lives in the slums of a distant-future Earth, in a megalopolis called Fring City.

o hai dar i am da protagonist

TAG RESSEN has been Dodge's best friend since they were seven, the type of best friend who's as good as a brother. Tag is quirky, quick, and a complete goofball. He pitched Army - in other words, when he walks onto a scape with activators, he grows extra arms. It was an expensive operation, but Tag could afford it a hundred times over.

er... yeah, doctor who. XD bear with me - david tennant
just looks SO much like the Tag in my head.

ROVER OBERLI is trusting, gentle, and a pacifist. Three definite disadvantages for the Game. But when it comes to friends or family, his protective side can overwhelm his usual calm.

Dreads ftw.

CAPTAIN SESSA is a dangerous girl. No one gets close to her, and she gets close to no one. Dodge thinks that's probably due to the fact that everyone is terrified of her, because before all else, she's brusque and intense.

she will destroy you.
dodge totally has the hots for this chica.

SARDIN ILEN is the team's resident hacker. He is a technological genius, insecure, slightly awkward, and takes the frequent jokes people aim his way with good nature. He suffers from Contained Degenerative Disorder, born paralyzed but restored to full mobility provided he continues treatment.

in "real life" he has his hair gelled into spikes, but
it's irritatingly impossible to find a young black guy
with gelled hair on google images.

What does your cast look like? Check out the other bloghoppers' posts here!

All the best,

Riley

Hasty Contest Advertisement

2011-09-30T17:55:00.000-07:00

Bethany over at Beyeager is hosting my favorite contest I've ever entered. It's SHAKESPEAREAN! (If you couldn't tell by the 'prose before hos' photo on the sidebar, I'm a big fan of Mr. William.) Drop off a quote by Mr. Shakes or create your own snippet in his style. You can enter here: http://beyeager.blogspot.com/2011/09/drumroll-please.html And if you win, you get a Shakespeare mug or Shakespeare tea! Everyone needs more tea.

Ironic that I've blogged more in the week I announced my bliatus than in the last few weeks. Murphy's Law, I suppose. =]

All the best,
Riley

Working Backward to go Forward

2011-09-29T05:00:00.000-07:00

Dean C. Rich is an author of epic fantasy, a sweet and funny AQC buddy, and a wonderful person. Take it away, Dean! My traded post can be found at Dean's blog, The Write Time.

------

Riley and I are doing a blog swap. So here I am lost in the jungle, while Riley is time traveling. Not sure which of us got the better deal!

Your major school project is due, tomorrow. You've got to pull an all nighter to have it completed. You've been stressing over this for weeks, and you've worked on it, off and on but it always seems that you are cramming for the test, or writing feverishly the night before the due date. You promise yourself you'll get it done, you'll start sooner next time, but it always ends up the same way, late night on the eve of the project due date.

I sat with someone just this last week and discussed getting things done. "Yea, but how?" he asked.

Ah, the devil is in the details, as the old cliché goes.

I call it walking backwards. It works like this. The assignment is given, and it is a major project. One of these multiple pages, with references, and 40% of the grade type project. Or it could be a major presentation for the boss at work. Either scenario works. I'll run with the school project.

Teacher gives the lecture and gives the assignment in a three inch binder. (Ok it is a two page handout, but it looks like the final project should fit in a three inch binder.) It is due in a week and a half.

A week and a half to procrastinate! (That is the old way; we are talking about how to work backwards here)

The assignment is due on Monday at the start of class. It is now Wednesday, so two and a half weeks. Let's say it is Monday the 26th. Today is Wednesday the 14th.
Get out the calendar and let’s set up some mile markers.

Monday 26th Turn in completed project

Sunday the 25th Printing the final draft and putting the paper in a pretty binder, proofing all the references.

Saturday the 24th Writing the final draft

Friday the 23rd. Reviewing and verifying all the 3x5 cards and all materials meet the outlined requirements.

Wednesday 21st rewrite, adding in other items that you finally figured how to fit into the assignments.

Tuesday 20th review draft, checking against the two page handout. Verify all material is covered.

Monday 19th Write 1st draft

Friday 16th complete 3x5 card info and put cards in order make an outline

Thursday 15th Google and gather more data; begin putting things on 3x5 cards

Wednesday 14th Assignment given. Get 3x5 cards and make a trip to the library and collect source materials

By working backwards you will have things to do each day. If you follow the plan you should have your assignment complete on Friday. the weekend is polishing and putting it together. No last minute cram sessions no stressing over missing parts. Easy.

So the second half of the title, moving forward. You'll find you will have less stress and be able to complete assignments on time. You'll move forward and achieve more by planning back.

Other parts come into play, self discipline, goals, and a desire to succeed. However if you take any assignment you receive you start by working backwards from the due date to the day you receive the work assignment. Once there work forward using the plan. If you find yourself always behind, always stressing over the deadline. Cramming at the last minute give this a try and see if it doesn't help you.

Thanks Riley for the swap. I've enjoyed my time here in the jungle.

-----

And thank YOU, Dean, for stopping by! =] I'm going to try that for my research paper!Remember to check out Dean's blog over at The Write Time. (http://deanswritingtime.blogspot.com/) You'll find an abundance of time-y advice over there, as well as my guest post and all.

All the best,
Riley

Bliatus Interruption!

2011-09-28T09:25:00.000-07:00

I'm so happy to break the bliatus already, in honor of a couple announcements! Firstly, there will be a guest post by the illustrious Dean C. Rich tomorrow on something that I can always use more help on: time management.

And secondly, IT'S LAUNCH DAY! Pete Morin, an AQC friend, wonderful person, and fantastic writer, is releasing his novel, Diary of a Small Fish. You should toootally go check it out and/or purchase it.

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Diary-Small-Fish-ebook/dp/B005Q33C1K/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1317216686&sr=8-1

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/91217

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1105969700?ean=2940013335851&itm=1&usri=diary%2bof%2ba%2bsmall%2bfish

Here's the blurb:

When Paul Forte is indicted by a federal grand jury, everyone suspects prosecutor Bernard (don’t call him “Bernie”) Kilroy has more on his mind than justice. Then the FBI agent in charge of Paul’s case gives him a clue to the mystery: Kilroy is bent on settling an old family score, and he’s not above breaking the law to do it.

Paul is already dealing with the death of his parents and divorce from a woman he still loves. Now, with the support of an alluring grand juror, Paul must expose the vindictive prosecutor’s own corruption before the jury renders a verdict on his Osso Buco.

Bio:

Pete Morin has been a trial attorney, a politician, a bureaucrat, a lobbyist, and a witness (voluntary and subpoenaed) to countless outrages. He combines them all in this debut novel.

Pete’s short fiction has appeared in NEEDLE, A Magazine of Noir, Words With Jam, 100 Stories for Haiti, and Words to Music. He published many of them in a collection titledUneasy Living, available on Amazon and Smashwords.

When he is not writing crime fiction or legal mumbo jumbo, Pete plays blues guitar in Boston bars, enjoys the beach, food and wine with his wife, Elizabeth, and their two adult children, and on rare occasion, punches a fade wedge to a tight pin surrounded by sand or water. He lives in a money pit on the seacoast south of Boston, in an area once known as the Irish Riviera.

Pete is represented by Christine Witthohn of Book Cents Literary Agency.

------------------------------------

Remember, there is no nobler calling than helping fellow writers! =] I'll be back tomorrow with the guest post - get pumped.

All the best,

Riley

Bliatus

2011-09-25T20:26:00.000-07:00

More absurd portmanteau-age! But sadly, "bliatus" is a mixture between blog and hiatus.

I'm bummed I have to do this. I thought I'd be able to keep a handle on the blog front, but between the stress of school, the impending doom of college applications, the looming show for which I have to memorize 350 lines, et cetera... well, I am in desperate need of some sort of vacation. If not from school, from at least a few things. And I'd rather it be the blog than, y'know, writing/editing/critiquing.

I'll be dropping by sometime this week to post my review for GRACELING, but other than that, posts will be cursory and infrequent. *sigh* I'll still be blog-hopping, commenting and tweeting, though. One should never expect me to shut up completely. =P

I hope the bliatus will end soon! I'm attending a writers conference in early November, so at the very latest I will be back shortly afterward to share tidbits.

As always, if you need to get in touch with me, e-mail (rileyredgate[at]gmail) or tweet (@rileyredgate), and I shall be with you pronto.

Until then,
Riley

First 250 Blog Contest

2011-09-22T09:19:00.000-07:00

Hey guys! There's an awesome blontest (blog + contest = blontest? ah, me and my impromptu portmanteaus...) going on at Brenda Drake's blog.

Here are the first 250-ish words of I'M GAME, a YA sci-fi novel. All critiques are much appreciated and will be reciprocated as soon as possible.

----------------------

The com on my bedroom wall buzzes, spitting out the voice of my best friend Tag. “Dodge, you there?”

I don’t want to extract myself from my bunk’s covers to answer. The heating’s broken for the second time this winter, which means there’s no way to ward off the chill leaking in around my window.

Despite my total lack of response, Tag keeps talking. “I know you’re there, bud. Sitting in your bunk and trying to ignore me. Don’t think you’re getting away with it – I’m gonna keep talking until you answer, and I will get steadily more annoying.” A pause. “Yes, that was a threat.”

My eyes roll up to the stained ceiling. Tag’s not kidding, either – he’ll go on for hours if I don’t shut him up.

I slide out of my bunk. The icy air calls the hair on the back of my neck to attention, and my fingers rub the goosebumps away, trailing over the microchip beneath my hair.

I kick my way through the clutter on my floor and slap my hand onto the wall-com. The cold of the silver disk eats away the heat of my palm. “Yeah,” I say. “What’s going on?”

“There you are,” Tag says. “A few of the guys wanna go out. You coming?”

I’m tempted to say no. If I go, they’ll ask me what I’m going to pitch.

Tag pitched Army. I knew he’d do it – it’s a rich kid thing. When they pitch, they get their extras plugged under their natural-born arms, one more arm on each side.

On Taking Advantage of the Misfortunes of Others

2011-09-20T05:30:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you've heard the "learn from your mistakes" thing. Everyone has. In fact, the actual definition of learning probably includes the ability to prevent yourself from making mistakes you've made before, but I digress (already a digression! oh, today is a good day, I can tell).

Ahem.

In any case - it would be silly to contradict this advice. You should always learn from your mistakes. But here's a fun bit of advice: The whole learning process will go about 29387 times faster if you learn from OTHER PEOPLE'S MISTAKES as well.

Yep. Exploit the crap out of other people's shortcomings and failures. (I feel like there should be evil laughter here.) Seriously, though - have you ever quit reading a book halfway through out of disgust, boredom, or outrage? Or - possibly worse - have you ever finished a book and felt like your time was just totally wasted?

Ask yourself WHY you felt disgusted or bored or outraged or irritated or time-wasted-y, and then write it down somewhere. "Note to self: Do not leave side characters so painfully undeveloped that they don't have a life outside of the MC. Note to self: Do not have only one minority character. Note to self: Do not make characters so perfect their only flaw is perfection; also, do not make characters so flawed that it is outside the realm of possibility that ANYONE will like them ever."

I mean, think about it. For every piece of information we've garnered from introspection, we probably gain twice as much from other people's actions, because it's easier to be objective. If I'm running and I'm all, "Oh no, I suck at running, I need to get better," then I not only have my past mistakes to learn from - I can draw from that girl on my team who ate nothing but celery the day of the race and passed out, or that girl whose stride is so short she has to take two steps for every one of a normal person's. I can tell myself, "Hey, don't be that girl."

We can't use what people do right. I can't adopt the magic from Harry Potter. I can't steal the concept from The Hunger Games or take the protagonist out of the Chaos Walking trilogy and put him into my books. That's not how it works.

Er, well, it's how fanfiction works, but that's another story. Normally, it's called 'plagiarism.'

So we can't steal what people do right. What do we do instead? We steal what they do WRONG! We take all those flaws, file them away, and mark them 'DO NOT DO THIS.'

And then we promise ourselves that we will Not Do This.

Have you read anything in recent times (or heck, any time) that has a glaring flaw? Care to share? (The flaw, not the book! :P)

I'll go first - a book I finished a few days ago, a sequel, didn't add anything new to the table in relation to its characters. My note to self: If I ever write a sequel, I must add new layers to the characters, not just copy-paste how they were before. A series has to have characters that are dynamic over an entire series arc, not only book 1 or book 2.

I've never written a sequel, but someday! Someday that will be useful!

All the best,
Riley

Skeleton Key - Chapter 16

2011-09-19T05:30:00.000-07:00

And our blogvel winds down! The last chapter can be found HERE, written by the fantastic Cherie! The next chapter will be HERE, written by bloggeress extraordinaire Shelly Brown. A list of chapters, for your convenience, is HERE (thank you Cherie for your madd organizational skillz). I've had so much fun following and participating in this blogvel! I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Where we left off last week:

“Give me the key.”

Ax’s voice drifts in my mind. Rebecca, no! I flinch as an image of Ax convulsing on the floor appears before me.

“He will die,” says Beelzebub. “But you can save him. Give me the key.”

My fingers curl around the skeleton key in my pocket.

-------

As I pull myselfto my feet, the tastes of blood and bile war in my mouth. The biggest decisionI’ve ever had to make was whether to go to college within a five-mile radius ofmy hometown – not exactly a matter of eternal damnation. (Arguably.)

Beelzebub’s eyes blaze. He knows he’s got me. He knowsit hurts too much for me to let Ax stay like this – because the pain isn’t justin the place locked away in my heart. It rips at my skin. Ax’s convulsions makeme jerk, pain rocketing over my nerves, and something feels torn deep in mychest, a wavering fiery hole. We’re more closely linked than I thought.

If he dies, I’ll die, too.

Ax’s mouth flies open, and flames jet from his tongueinto the chasm. I stagger, gasping in a breath, the skeleton key digging intomy palm.

It can all end, if I just hand it over…

Ax’s voice again. No– no –!

His words deconstruct into a senseless roar. I chokeon my own breath hearing it. I want to cry. I want to curl up and sob.

Dammit, no. I have to stay strong. I have to let thishappen. I’ve seen death – Ax and I will have time down there. Even if it isn’tmuch time; even if it’s just grey, worthless time … Ax’s blazing skin turnedcorpse-cold …

God, pullyourself together! I clutch at my own shoulders and force myself tostraighten up.

“I grow impatient,” Beelzebub says. His voice slithersover my ears.

If I die, he and his spawn will take the key anyway. Maybeif I could stop them from getting it somehow…?

I fix as much force on the knobbly joint as I canmuster, but it won’t snap. Doesn’t even bend.

The second I stare at the Devil languishes between us,more like an hour than an instant.

Then a totally alien noise blares through the eternalsilence. My phone’s harsh buzz.

“Can I take this?” I whisper. What if it’s my mom?I need the chance to say goodbye to her, to Dex, to everyone … to Ashley. Is mysister still alive? Did they kill her?

Would I be able to tell Mom, even if I knew for sureit was true?

“I’ve waited millennia,” Beelzebub growls. “I can waitonly minutes for your decision, human.”

Something deep inside me wonders why he can wait atall, but I’m not in a position to question. My shaking hand draws the phonefrom my pocket and holds it to my ear.

“Hello?” I murmur.

“Hadriax?” says the voice on the other side.

Skynjar.

“Mom,” I lie, wishing it were her. My voice crackspathetically. “Mom.”

“Hadriax? Is this Hadriax’s mate? I just received yourmessage.”

“Hi, Mom, everything’s fine. I’ll … I’m just, uh,boarding the plane.”

Silence from Skynjar’s end. I wonder what’s goingthrough his head.

I reach for more words. “I’ll miss you so much whileI’m away. My … best mate is coming on the trip too.”

“Rebecca.” Skynjar’s voice is deadly quiet. For asecond he sounds like Ax, and a wrench of feeling attacks my ribs. “You’re introuble. Ax is in trouble.”

“Yeah,” I say. What am I doing? Beelzebub must be ableto hear this. But he’s just staring, eyes narrowed in malice, his angular facetwisted up in hate.

Then a fresh wave of pain smashes into me. It feelslike all the bones in my body are cracking at once. I topple to my knees with acry.

Skynjar bellows, “You can get –”

A familiar beep.

Call failed.

I stare at the screen. Zero bars. Goddammit, Verizon.

“You’ve had your time,” Beelzebub growls. “I shallcount to ten. If you do not give me the key, you will die.”

Tears burn at the bottom of my eyes as I realize thisis it. I’m dead. Very dead.

So I might as well go out with a bang.

“One.”

Words trail through my pounding mind. The last class Itook - poetry analysis.

Some say theworld will end in fire…

“Two.”

I look back up at Beelzebub, ready to die to protectthis key. Ready to force through the brain-twisting throat-wrenchinggut-smashing pain, down into the cold relief of death.

Some say in ice.

“Three.”

Ax lies ten feet away, his fits of agony fading intoslow writhing. The muscles of his body contort and twist, stretching into andout of dragon form. Uncontrollable.

Uncontrollable…

From what I’vetasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire.

“Four,” Beelzebub says.

I lick my bone-dry lips and get back to my feet forthe last time. Fever rages on my forehead.

But if it had toperish twice, I think I know enough of hate…

“Five,” Beelzebub says.

“If you try to kill me,” I say, my voice quivering, “Iwill destroy you.”

A smile stretches Beelzebub’s ebony flesh. “Six.”

To say that fordestruction, ice is also great

“And if you try to kill Ax,” I say, pulling out thekey, “I will destroy this.”

He stops counting.

And wouldsuffice.

Ice.

I know what to do.

“She can’t destroy it!” Angelica’s shrill words splitthe air. Beelzebub’s eyes turn to her for a split second.

I dive for Ax.

My body hits his, and I drink in the angry, volatilepower of the rogue. My vision goes haywire, white lines attacking it, ragingacross planes of neon.

The chameleon rises in a shroud of flame.

My head snaps back, and I roar to the black ceiling.Flames engulf me, and Beelzebub’s scream trails after me as I yank Ax throughthe world, as I burrow through the planes of the earth – over land, over oceans–

I topple out of the air –

Right into a massive snowdrift.

I suck in a shaky breath, my terror turning to adrenaline.I escaped, but how the hell? God knows that was a hastily made plan to end all hastily made plans.

“SKYNJAR!” I scream, pulling myself from thesmoldering, dripping snow. “Shit. Friggin’ … SKYNJAR!”

I hoist Ax onto my half-dragon-like shoulders. Thepain isn’t gone. In fact, now that we’re closer to each other, it seems to havedoubled. The power of his changing is like a hammer thudding on the back of myhead.

Cursing with every step, wallowing in slush, I stagger across the silentIcelandic square to the Embassy door and grip the knob. It melts in my hand. Ikick in the door.

“SKYNJAR!” I yell.

The fuzzy Nerlids drinking in the corner of therestaurant don’t even look up. Like they’re totally used to a pair of volatiledragons lurching around with random yells.

Suddenly, Ax’s proportion shifts to a whole lot moredragon and mine turns to a whole lot more human. I slip out from underneath hisweight before he crushes me. The restaurant rattles as he crashes to the ground.

I sprint to the back of the room, my head spinning, andhammer on the door. “SKYN!” Ax’s nickname for him.

The door flies open. “Rebecca,” Skynjar says.

“You actually know my name?”

“Not the time!” He pulls his brother’s unconsciousbody into his chamber, I scurry after him, and he slams the door back onto itsframe.

“We probably don’t have much time,” I say, slidingdown the wall. “Angelica, Damien, Beelzebub – they’re all – they’re trying toopen the gateway to Hell – they’ll be after me –”

“Yes, I know, I know!”

I stare at him. “You … you what?”

“This was never supposed to involve Ax. This was neversupposed to involve you!"

I stare some more. "Um..."

"Who do you think let Ba’al Azabub into this quadrantof the Quaterjarnexal complex in the first place?”

“You –”

“No time. Not enough time. Never enough –” He roots through his filing cabinets. A great clanking fills the room. “He’ll behere any second. Where is that damned contract –”

“Contract?” I say. “What are you even –”

“Drakes aren’t immortal beings, you know.”

I splutter for a second. “Okay, cool, how is that relevant?”

“Dragons are mortal. All dragons except two.Because one of those dragons –” Hetears a drawer out of a filing cabinet. It clatters to the floor, and a clearliquid splatters all over the stones. “ –one dragon was so weak he couldn’t stand the idea of death –”

“Are we talking about you here or am I just –”

“Couldn’t stand the thought of him or his brother dying,couldn’t help it –”

“So you, you and Ax, you’re the only –”

“Flames of Heaven, where is that paper –”

“You –”

“I SOLD THIS EARTH!” Skynjar roars, finally spinningaround to face me. My body twists up into dragon form to meet the challenge,but he doesn’t attack. He slashes a massive claw at his perfectly organizedwalls. His claws puncture the metal, tear through the filing cabinets with a metallicscream. Riches, artifacts, random substances fly everywhere. “I SOLD THIS EARTHAND A MILLION LIKE IT!”

“You … you betrayed –”

“YES!” he howls. “I traded my mortality – and Ax’smortality – I traded it away. And all I had to do in return … all I had to do waslet …” He breathes for a minute.

I lurch back against the wall. The clear liquid fromthe drawer sits in a puddle around Skynjar’s haunches, emitting a weirdly familiarscent.

He adjusts his pince-nez, calmly reaches out, andopens the bottom left filing cabinet. Inside it is one sheet of paper. Thecontract. He hands it to me.

I gaze at the old, faded words. I've never seen this language before. It's spiky and erratic, a heartbeat script.

A noise shocks me out of my stupor. The sound ofscreaming from the restaurant.

Beelzebub’s followed me. Of course.

“Hold on, wait, the contract!” I say, my words garbled fromhurried speech. “Is it binding?”

“Binding?”

“Unbreakable! Is it?”

He sits there.

“TELL ME!”

“It’s unbreakable.”

“SO BREAK IT!” I yell, throwing myself in front of thedoor just as a massive force pounds on it.

A black claw thrusts itself through the wood.Beelzebub’s laughter rings out inches from my ear, separated by a flimsy woodenbarrier.

I take a deep breath and finally focus on the scent of thatliquid on the floor.

Gasoline.

I bellow a jet of flame at Skynjar.

The liquid around him explodes into fiery rapture.

Admittedly, the result isn’t as dramatic as I hoped,because dragons … you know, are fine with fire and stuff.

But then a tired smile draws across Skynjar's lips. “PerhapsI am ready, now,” he murmurs. Then he opens a filing cabinet and extracts asmall iron keg.

“Gunpowder,” he says, his growl rising over the roarof the flame.

The door splinters further. I press back against it,reach out an arm, and tug Ax into an embrace far from the blazing inferno.Under the wash of roiling heat, we both wilt and fade into human forms. My armswrapped around his torso, I watch as his brother opens his mouth and swallowsthe keg of gunpowder.

I close my eyes.

The explosion is muffled by Skynjar’s body, but it vibratesin my bones, rings in my ears. A scream from the other side of the door mingleswith it, the scream of the Devil as he’s torn out of this dimension.

I open my eyes a crack. In my peripherals, Beelzebub’sblack claw dissolves and vanishes completely.

Holy hell.

When I open my eyes fully, most of the room is onfire. I lug Ax out of the restaurant by one arm and blink up into the dark sky. My body is free ofpain, free of the rogue symptoms, free of everything except totally normalRebecca-ness.

I wheeze for a minute in the freezing air, but I’m notcold. I’m blazing hot. Which is weird, because I’m human again.

But I just defeated Beelzebub, King of Hell. I think candeal with a few inner thermostat issues.

A voice says, “Give me the key.”

I can’t help but let out an exhausted moan. Seriously?

Then my breath stops. Because Angelica steps out frombehind the statue in the middle of the square, her eyes blazing, her fingerswound into my sister’s hair.

And my sister’s head is no longer attached to herbody.

Riley's Reviews #2: ACROSS THE UNIVERSE

2011-09-13T05:15:00.000-07:00

I went into this book with high, high expectations.

Was that a mistake? No. The concept has huge shoes to fill:

Seventeen-year-old Amy is on the spaceship Godspeed. She is supposed to be asleep for 250 years, frozen in time until the ship reaches that other planet, that one waaayyy over there *points*.

Except then she wakes up and nearly drowns in her own freezing-fluids. Nasty. Not pleasant. And not an accident. There's a killer on Godspeed.

With the help of Elder - a boy destined to be the leader of the ship's unfrozen inhabitants - Amy must find the killer before he comes back for all her frozen companions.

It's a sci-fi-murder-mystery-romance-thriller-argh-why-do-we-have-genres-when-there-are-books-like-this-that-juggle-so-many-so-well.

All right. So I read the first chapter of this way back when it was on the internet and people were gushing about it. And to be frank, the first chapter didn't particularly stun and/or amaze me. I guess it's because 1) I'll readily admit that I'm sort of judgmental when it comes to beginnings; I have a type, and this did not fit that type and 2) for me, the first chapter (cryogenic freezing) didn't have the sense of novelty the rest of the book did. While Revis made the concept of cryogenic freezing her own, she didn't invent the concept itself, so I wasn't quite as impressed as with other parts of her worldbuilding.

So anyway, I heard the gushing and I was like, yo, this better be awesome. And at first, with that lonely online chapter, I was underwhelmed. Then I read that other part that wasn't the first chapter (i.e. the rest of the book) and I was considerably more whelmed.

Let's start with the writing. It's very good. I feel Revis is at her best when she's speaking in the abstract - I got the most emotion out of the fragmented, poetic sequences. But most of it is written in simple but effective prose, and there were several stand-out moments in that area, too. Most memorably the parts that focus on atmosphere (namely, claustrophobia).

The worldbuilding is great. The ship, Godspeed, has lots of technological nuances to it that made me grin and go, "Cool." There's an interesting combination of a rural feel (since, y'know, they grow food on the ship) and, of course, techie fun.

All the slang was fun, too, and felt organic for the most part. Personally, I felt that the most impressive part of the story was how Revis managed to cram in so much world without compromising plot. This makes it science fiction anyone can relate to - there aren't any detours being like "oh yah and thiz technology does this, & this does that, & etc." But there are still so many opportunities for geeks like me to geek out over geeky things.

That said, I never really clicked with Amy. I never quite got into her head. Elder? Heck, yes - the sections from his perspective sucked me in (could be attributed to the novelty of his voice). But although I sympathized with Amy's plight, I continued to feel like she was more a vehicle for her plight than she was a person who happened to have a plight.

Re: plot? Quite a few fun twists and turns in here, though I did sense a couple of them coming. And, for the one that totally stunned me, the MC who faced the twist didn't freak out nearly as much as I would have. (Or, rather, frex out.)

Round-up: The book was very well-crafted, but only some of it got to me emotionally. I'd read it again for Godspeed, and I'll probably dog-ear some of the more brilliant descriptions, but I'm not going to say it lived up to the expectations I held. Which is only to be anticipated, because I expected a different book entirely. From the cover (that COVER! *drool*) I expected wrenching romance and a crap-ton of existential depth. Did I get that? Nope. The novel was more focused on its tense murder mystery and the frexing awesome world around it - and that, in retrospect, is still fine by me.

6.5/10

Next review: GRACELING by Kristin Cashore

Breaking Promises and Emotion Shaming

2011-09-12T05:30:00.000-07:00

First of all, kudos to Blogger for making the interface look so ... Google! Thumbs up, extra credit, A plus, bonus points. Et cetera.

Secondly, to address the first part of my title: Yep; I'm already off-schedule with my reviewing. I got caught up in other readings that are not Across the Universe. It sits finished but un-reviewed on my desk. This shall soon be remedied, but for now I'll scale back my ambition and commit myself to one review every two weeks.

Now on to the body of the post.

This weekend I read SHUT OUT, by Kody Keplinger (yep, it's not Across the Universe. Herein lies the problem). I enjoyed reading it. It deals with an interesting issue: slut shaming.

I don't know if you guys have heard of slut shaming, but it basically states that women should not feel empowered by, or overly enjoy, their sexuality. Now, I could have a messy talk about that topic for hours, but it's not actually the one I'm approaching. I'd like to bring to the attention of the public eye another issue: emotion shaming.

At the root of this problem lies the question: Why is my generation so apathetic? In general, people say it's cool not to care. It's uncool, on the other hand, to care too much, or to have overwhelming passion for something/someone. And hey, that's not just teenagers. I feel like it's a fundamental mishap of our society that we feel the need to cover up our emotions - thus the entire concept of that movie, I Love You, Man.

Teens have it bad. There's an obscene amount of mockery of the emo culture - the kids who wear black, listen to rage-filled music, etc. - but maybe they're onto something. They're not afraid to look sad. How silly is that, that anyone can be ashamed of feeling sad about something? And, even better, these kids aren't afraid to carry around paranormal romance novels, while the rest of us sequester our depressing-looking literature in the musty depths of our backpacks. (That's a loosely interpreted 'we,' by the way - I carry my books like a badge of honor. =P)

Anyway.

Yes, teenage boys, I'm looking at you. Emotion shaming has led you to fear being someone who reads anything that involves romance. God forbid you emote in public!

Okay, that was a generalization. This is so deeply tied into gender norms that I dare not scratch too deeply - otherwise the debate will spring out like an oil well - but I think I speak for most when I say it is So Not Okay for people to have to suppress what they're feeling. Mostly sad stuff - people laugh and smile far more frequently. So, what, are we supposed to be only happy? For some reason, people who are in a bad mood get blamed for their own bad mood. Like they really asked for whatever happened to make them pissed-off. Stop it, high school! Stop emotion-shaming me for having a bad day! This thunderous scowl on my face isn't of my own volition! Yes, I'd rather be happy - do you think I'm choosing to be miserable?

(Ooh, that brings into light the question of attitude. Optimism is great and all, but it can only get you so far. Even the most optimistic of folks have a breaking point.)

That said, I love seeing suppressed emotion in literature, because it's real. People are obsessed with nonchalance to the point at which it's a problem, and addressing that in books feels as good a way to target this dumb apathy as any other.

I've only cried in public... er, what, twice? And that was because of sports-related pain, so it doesn't really count. I suppose I'm scared to let people see me cry because they'll assume it means I'm weak.

If you're unfamiliar with the fundamental attribution error, you should check it out. Basically, it's where you attribute people's action to them, not the circumstances they've been dealing with lately. Like, you see someone having a screaming fit at the grocery store and you immediately see someone who's emotionally unstable, not that their mom just died and then they got in a car wreck and then they lost their wallet and then FINALLY this jerk at the grocery store bumped into them and unleashed the rage.

Maybe that has something to do with emotion shame. If I went around looking like a total grump all day, people would probably be like, "Man, that girl is so grumpy," not "I wonder what circumstances have been unfortunate in her life lately?"

Welp, I hereby resolve to stand up to the fundamental attribution error. No more judging people for whatever they're feeling. Maybe - just maybe - it'll spread.

All the best,
Riley

Laughin' Out Loud

2011-09-03T05:00:00.000-07:00

I'm here today to talk with you about humor.

Humor in YA lit, to me, is absolutely paramount. It's become clear to me after careful observation that the goal in ANY casual interaction in our age group is to make the other party either smile or ROTFLOL.

Seriously, though. I don't think I've had a normal conversation in recent memory that hasn't involved laughter. I say 'normal' because, of course, there are always those Deep and Meaningful Conversations that involve lots of crying and blah blah etc. But usually, in everyday life, people are just trying to get a smile or a laugh.

Anyway. Let's break it down. If someone in high school is looking for a social group, he/she will find people who think he/she is funny. After all, laughter is simultaneously letting down a barrier and showing approval. That's a big job for a simple lol!

So, jokes! What types of jokes are we making? In my humble opinion, what's funny to kids these days?

1) Sex.

Oh, yeah, that's shocking.

2) Sarcasm.

See above comment.

3) Irony.

This is why hipsters exist.

4) Stereotypes.

Or, erm, well, 'generalizations'. They're just so easy to manipulate into being lol-worthy. My personal favorite generalizations all have to do with place. Watch this video to see what I mean - I'm from Cleveland, originally, so I found this video hilarious, but the great thing about Cleveland is that you don't have to be from Cleveland to laugh at Cleveland.

So here, by 'stereotypes', I don't really mean racial stereotypes. Not that those can't be funny and inoffensive on occasion, but a lot of the time, people are afraid to laugh. I mean clique stereotypes. I mean, look - I just made a crack about hipsters in number three! I could make a dig about frat guys, or emo kids, or any number of 'types,' and people (as a general rule, of course) would be pretty unafraid to laugh, because people self-divide of their own accord, so others don't feel bad for taking a jab at 'em. C'est la vie.

Types, of course, can be sensitive. I'd never make fun of, say, a frat guy to a frat guy's face. This falls under the umbrella of 'tactfulness.'

5) Self-deprecation.

This is usually tongue-in-cheek. It can get pretty annoying pretty fast if it's actual self-deprecation, and/or people usually end up having to have Deep and Meaningful Conversations about it.

Anyway - that's pretty much the core of high school humor. But, at its heart, humor is the best when it consists of something entirely unexpected. (Which is part of the reason I can't keep from snorting when I read Jenny Phresh's blog!) Humor is ALWAYS a surprise. If something becomes predictable, it only becomes funny again when something shocking or new is added.

For example, let's take the basest of base jokes: that's what she said. (Obviously, as it's base and juvenile, I adore it.)

If you're not familiar with the saying, "that's what she said" is used when something could be a double entendre for something sexual. For example:

A: "Dude, I just studied for my entire lunch period."

B: "I know. I did that all through last night."

A: "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID! Ha ha ha, ha ha."

This trend wore out its welcome pretty fast. Especially for the normal, predictable TWSS opportunities like the one above. So you know what people started doing?

A: "Dude, I just studied for my entire lunch period."

B: "I know. I did that all through last night."

A: "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!" (Pause, in which look of glee fades from face and turns into a total deadpan expression:) "Because she was talking about having sex."

See what A did there? Because the joke was already so predictable, he/she had to put a new face on it. Not that the above was particularly clever or funny, but a funny narrator will always keep me guessing, keep me waiting for what's going to shock me into laughter next.

Anyway, my central point here is that teenagers thrive on humor. No one wants an awkward and strained interaction. Joking around with someone is a great way to show relationships in a friend circle - and it also speaks to personality: the types that are sarcastic, or self-deprecating, or crude, or any mixture of all of the above, usually go with specific attitudes and types of folks. Bonus points: Switching them up could be a great comedic device. Imagine a football-player-jock-type bro whose sense of humor turns out to revolve around witty literary banter! I would lol it up.

When it comes to light interaction - and hopefully there is some light interaction in your novel, whatever genre - always keep in mind that people, especially (but not limited to) teenagers, want to please and be pleased. A friend can do something as small as a chuckle, and it can still mean the world.

The inverse is true, too. When a joke doesn't go over well, it's a slap in the face. I know this from experience, trust me; empty silence after something you say is utter humiliation. And also, I always feel like such a teenager when I care so much that no one laughed at my joke or story or whatever. I'm like, if I were older and more mature, I wouldn't care. Or if I had a peer group that didn't laugh so much in the first place, it wouldn't surprise me that there was such a quiet reaction, and so I wouldn't care.

I don't know if that's true, but everything boils down to a quest for approval in high school, and being denied it is one of the saddest things I can think of. People who try too hard make me miserable because that is their whole lives.

Wow, this post is ending on a downer. Let's end with a knock knock joke, which I KNOW all of you will love! Ha ha! Ho ho! Jollity and joy! Happiness!

A: Knock knock!

B: Who's there?

A: To.

B: To who?

A: TO WHOM.

All the best,

Riley

Riley's Reviews #1: THE MONSTRUMOLOGIST

2011-08-29T14:21:00.000-07:00

William James Henry is an assistant/sort-of-apprentice to Dr. Pellinore Warthrop, an impassioned monstrumologist (monstrumology (n): the study of life forms generally malevolent to humans and not recognized by science as actual organisms, specifically those considered products of myth and folklore). As such, Will Henry is used to the strange and fantastical. But when a gravedigger shows up at the doctor's abode in the middle of the night carrying a grisly package, even Will is unprepared for the monstrumological horrors to come.

Let me preface this review by saying that the book sort of terrified me before it even began. Preceding the actual story part of the book is a decent-sized list of quotes from sources such as Herodotus and Shakespeare, each detailing the horrific creature around which the book centers. Good tactic, Rick Yancey. I see what you did there. Now I'm gonna walk around expecting to see them everywhere. I mean, if Shakespeare said they exist...

Onward!

Set in the late 1800s, Monstrumologist is filled with atmosphere, and the voice is different to that of any book I've read in a long while (er, of my own volition - it almost read like a slightly modernized Frankenstein to me, but that was summer reading so it doesn't count).

The narrator is twelve, mostly, though there are times when he pulls back and does the whole 'looking back on these events' thing. Which worked very nicely, especially at the end of chapters. ("Oh, if I had known then that such-and-such ghastly event would happen presently!...") Anyway, his twelve-ness was definitely different for me, since I've been stuck in teenager-land forever. And this twelve-ness was just the first thing in this huge list of ways the book was different from anything I've seen targeted at teens since the YA Explosion. (I just invented that. It's like the Big Bang, only it marks the origin of my love for YA lit.)

Second in the huge list is the amount of internal monologuing that goes on. Will Henry does a LOT of thinking - probably because he spends so much of his time not speaking, and who can blame him? Dr. Warthrop is infuriatingly bad at conversation, to the point of comedy. (I chortled probably more in this gothic horror novel than in some books that were meant to be comedy. Yay irony.)

Third in the list is the fact that it's written in such an old-fashioned way. The 1800s-style voice never seemed to waver, and if it did, I was too engrossed to notice. Long sentences, long words, and perfect grammar: truly archaic. (I jest. Slightly.)

Anyway, Yancey does a great job setting the scene. Everything is dark and dreary and brooding and, when need be, terrifying. The monsters themselves are also scary as all hell. And though I'm a total baby when it comes to horror movies, books don't scare me easily. So kudos, Mr. Yancey.

The characters - main and side - were well-developed across the board, which was somewhat of a feat, considering the amount of screen time Will Henry and Dr. Warthrop command. The others were definitely short on word count, but not on personality. Y'know, strangely, many of the characters felt more realized to me than Will. I found myself wondering, Is Yancey doing this on purpose because he's so young? In any case, Will never felt like a shell; he was a character rich in emotions and realistic reactions. I just never got a sense of personality from him beyond child. And in the novel, his being a child is both a function and an attribute, but it doesn't say much about him as a person. I don't know what I'd say if someone told me to pick a handful of adjectives to describe the kid. "Timid," maybe? But he's too brave to be timid. "Isolated" comes to mind, but again, that's more of a state of being than a trait, unless the isolation is self-imposed. Which it sort of is, but not quite.

Anyway.

This isn't a book I'd read again for its plot. The plot doesn't lack; it's just simple. When I reached the end, I looked back to the beginning and it felt like a very short journey. Everything is laid out methodically and in a straightforward manner, surrounded by strangely delicate and intricate language. I say that the language is strangely delicate because this is also the gutsiest book I have read possibly ever. Yancey describes the gore with loving and visceral detail - I made the weirdest faces reading this, no lie. But it's not just the bloody images that pack a punch - this is one of those books where you'll sit back, look at a sentence, and reread it a few times just to let yourself have the pleasure of doing so.

The book has a long, glorious, heart-pounding-palms-sweaty-tear-the-pages-to-get-to-the-next-chapter climax. Hands down my favorite part of the book, which is great. It fully deserved the buildup it gave itself.

I wouldn't hesitate to recommend this to people, because I think writing like this needs to be read often and by many. I could go on for days about the power of the writing and how much I loved how well-thought-out the characters were, especially Warthrop. Is it weird that I sort of have a crush on him? Yeah, maybe a little weird. A lot weird. But there you go.

I also have a fascination with the hunter. Not going to try to summarize him, but he's a brilliant character.

This is a novel I both enjoyed and appreciated (the latter is rarer for me). I'm not quite in love, but I'm in serious like. I'm down for re-reads, and I'm so down for the sequel.

7.5/10

EDIT AFTER THE FACT:
The sequel, The Curse of the Wendigo, is 8.5/10. Everything that I loved about this book is there, plus about eighty times the emotion. I was putty in Yancey's hands with Wendigo, and now I'm dying for #3!

EDIT AFTER THE EDIT AFTER THE FACT:
#3, The Isle of Blood, felt different to me than the first two. I love how Yancey changes the series as it goes along, doesn't just make each one a rehash of the previous story with new monsters and locations. What I felt was the central conflict here - Will Henry's conflict within himself - fascinated me, and really gave me a feel for who he was as a growing boy. Definitely an interesting read, and one of the most quotable YA books I've ever read. 8/10.

Next review: ACROSS THE UNIVERSE, by Beth Revis.

The Liebster Blaward. Also, a Big New Exciting Thing!

2011-08-27T12:28:00.000-07:00

So, the brilliant Joyce Alton at Yesternight's Voyage, the radiant J. Lea Lopez at Jello World, the glorious Suzanne Payne at ...er, Suzanne Payne, the fierce Jenny Phresh at The Party Pony, AND the wonderful Stephanie at Word by Word have blawarded me the Liebster Blaward!

Jeez, you guys! I'm totally blessed to have such fabulous and generous friends. <3

(Also, yep, I'm going to keep using 'blaward' until it catches on. Just watch...)

IT'S SO CUTE. I love you guys.

What is a Liebster Blog Award, you ask? It's an award to spotlight up and coming bloggers who currently have less than 200 followers. The rules of the award are:

Thank the giver and link back to the blogger who gave it to you.

Reveal your top 5 picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.

Copy and paste the award on your blog.

Have faith that your followers will spread the love to other bloggers.

And most of all - have bloggity-blog fun!

I know quite a few blogs that don't have 200 followers yet, and some of them are sheer ridiculousness!

Let's start with Belief Suspenders. Tracy's blog is one of the most innovative, interactive writing blogs I've seen. She sets things on fire on-camera (quoth my inner pyromaniac: "MUAHAHA!"), offers to film scenes from your ms as a contest, spies on her own house at night (you had to be there), cuts her hair with a knife - and more! Seriously, this is one blog you don't want to miss out on following.

Moving on to Questions & Archetypes. Ms. Masako Moonshade (aka Jennifer T on twitter) is astute, articulate, and a brilliant writer. I know this because I've been fortunate enough to beta for her! She has a fantastic imagination, a great sense of humor, and lots of things to say to the world. Also, today, she has a guest post by A.M. Supinger! That's double win right there.

The next tag is for Dean at The Write Time. Dean is a kind soul, a writer of epic fantasy, an insanely hard worker, and he has a great blog dealing with the one thing we never have enough of: time! He has great interviews with others and fabulous writing tips. Don't hesitate to swing by and see what he's got going - especially with his Thursday's Time Tip series.

Next: Kellie M. at Tighty Writie! (oh, how I love that name. :D) Kellie is a children's writer with great perspective and wonderful down-to-earth posts. She was kidnapped by aliens near the beginning of August, but I'm sure garnering some new followers would keep those pesky aliens away! =P

And last but definitely not least, Kacey V. at Hey Now. If nothing else, you've GOT to check out this post by her - the 12 stages of editing. It's hilarious, witty, and one of those posts that you'll chuckle as you poke the screen, saying, "Hey, I do that. I do that too. I DO THAT." She also recently blogged about her end-of-manuscript anxiety. It is such a fun and relatable blog!

So, that's five. I could probably go on for a while, but I shall move on, since there is a second half to this post (because I enjoy combining blawards with other material): I've decided to finally start writing book reviews.

I don't really know why I haven't in the past. Scared, I guess, that I'll let my big mouth run away from me, but that's silly - I do that anyway, after all. XD

I also made excuses for a while along the lines of 'omg i dont have enuff tim3!!1' But let's be completely honest, folks. I read like a demon. I read Frankenstein and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close in five hours the other day - two hours for the former and three hours for the latter. And, in my genre, I read Divergent in two hours; I read Before I Fall in two and a half.

I don't always have two or three hours in a single day, but I definitely have 2-3 hours a week (especially now that the Speculative Fiction marathon at AQC is over). So, here's the deal: I will read and review at least a book a week. I say 'at least' 'cause I don't want to confine myself to reading just one in a series!

On negative reviews: I considered pulling punches, but in the end, I've decided I'm not going to just review the ones I love. I will give negative reviews, but I will never heartlessly slam a book; I will write the review as if I knew the author of the book was looking over my shoulder. If I don't like a book, the review will never be destructive or impolite, and I'll analyze what the author could've done to change the review from negative to positive. And, of course, the review will be from a young adult's perspective. Ooh, handy-dandy.

I'm pretty excited to start. When I'm done with a review, I will note at the bottom of the post which book I plan to read next - and I'd love to take recommendations if you guys have any for me! Naturally, I read mostly YA books, but I'm not closed to adult fiction.

So here goes. I'm starting with The Monstrumologist, which I've heard praised out the wazoo from multiple sources. I'm hoping to love it (as a general rule, I go into books hoping to love them). We'll see.

Note: this will not affect my usual erratic posting schedule! Now that I'm into the school year, I should probably make an actual posting schedule, now that I think about it... I'll try to balance out every review with a blog post of alternate subject matter, as I'm not planning for my blog to turn into A Review Blog.

The reason for this intended upsurge in activity is actually that I've been neglecting my blog. Posts have been infrequent, and that is lame. By publicly committing to doing stuff, I will not be able to back down!

I WILL DO STUFF!

All the best,

Riley

Stranger than Fiction

2011-08-21T05:10:00.000-07:00

Yep, it's a movie. Not going to be talking about the movie, although I quite enjoyed it when I saw it a few years back. No; what I'll be ranting about today is a beast of a different pelt. Or is that a coat of a different color? A carpet of a different ... oh, whatever that line is. I forget.

Okay, first of all, I want to thank everyone who gave me the Liebster blaward. I love you guys so much - I'm working on my post to tag others, though our blog family seems to have tagged most of my bloggin' buddies already! There will probably be repeats/overlaps; OH WELL =D

So, here's the dealio, folks: I just went on a cruise. The idea of being on a cruise in the first place was rather giggle-worthy for me - my family isn't the 'cruise-taking type.' (You know. The type of family that has lots of family videos [my family has zero documentation of my existence as a young child.] and gets tipsy together and has strangely enthusiastic Christmas cards and ... er, you get the point.) My father's sort of pretentious (bless his heart) and my mother's sort of a recluse (bless her heart) and my sister ... well, no, my sister's pretty much down for whatever, but I'm way too cynical for this cruise-type-stuff. Hands down, yo.

So yeah, we're a quirky bunch not exactly used to arranged vacations. When it comes to vacationing, we're total pantsters. Road-trippers. Off-the-beaten-tracksters.

That's beside the point. We went a'cruisin' with this company called Carnival. And I swear these people are trying to parodize themselves. There is no other explanation for the way they treat cruise-taking. Here's my conditional statement (yay, 8th grade geometry) for Carnival cruise lines: IF something exists, THEN it must be preceded by the word "fun."

We had the Fun Shops, located on the (fun) third floor. The Fun Times were delivered daily to our (fun) door so we could browse all the (fun) activities going on. And every time any of the cruise employees referred to the ship, it was not simply "the ship." It was "the Fun Ship." In the Fun Times, I shit you not, they referred to days that consisted of sailing as "Fun Day[s] at Sea." Not just days at sea; oh no. They were FUN DAMMIT.

Resident cynic over here wanted to smother herself with her Fun Bathrobe.

I've decided I'm going to write something involving a cruise line. Having had the opportunity to go on one - and it really was fun, by the way; the whole thing was stupid and silly and relaxing and the food was awesome - it seems silly to pass up the chance to exploit the crap out of the experience.

The problem is that I'm not sure if anyone will take me seriously. Every stereotype the cruise ship could have fulfilled, it fulfilled and then some. There was a pool. That's right; a pool. ON A BOAT. IN THE OCEAN. When half the time we were pulled over at these gorgeous white-sand beaches ... argh human race what's wrong with us ... heh, oh, yeah, no, but it gets better. The list goes on:

Aboard, we had a putting course; we had a spa; we had a gym (which was consistently the emptiest room aboard); we had elevators and several pianos and a casino. Everyone who worked on the ship was a minority. (And they all asked me where I was from. I told them I was half-Chinese. They said, "Ni hao." I laughed awkwardly and was all, "I um, I don't speak Chinese. I just am Chinese." Then they were usually like "...oh" and left. Awkward much? ...now back to the ship!) Everything was absurdly overpriced, and that includes the internet, which just killed me. It was pay-by-the-minute. You can imagine this was like slow asphyxiation for me, digital-style. At every turn there was advertising and overblown cheerfulness and more advertising and attempts to wring money out of you and the whole thing was SO exactly what I expected.

Thus, writing about it seems dangerous, because it's just such a stereotype already. I'm bringing nothing new to the table unless I blow it up to the point of satire. Which ... er, satirizing it wouldn't be tough, let's be honest folks.

Question time: What happens when something fulfills expectations so closely and exactly you almost can't believe it? When truth isn't stranger than fiction - it's just fiction's body double? Has this happened to you?

My answer - I think it happens more often than we'd like to admit. It's like stereotypes. They wouldn't be there if they weren't true to some extent. My Chinese side of the family speaks in largely garbled English and goes red when they drink. My Irish relatives curse like the proverbial sailor, eat bunches of potatoes, and drink lots of alcohol. What the hey; people stereotype for a reason.

Not just that, though. Fiction does mirror real life a lot of the time. Dialogue and character choices hit the hardest for me when they reflect conversations I've had, people I've known, et cetera.

So ... one last question: does the concept of a cruise ship murder mystery intrigue you?

I can see the tagline now: Something is fun-damentally wrong with this cruise...

(Sorry about the field question; I'm coming up on the end of a first draft. I like to plan what I'm drafting next, hehe, so I can distance myself a little from the WIP.)

Fun fact: Now that I'm off the boat and on solid ground again, the earth seems to sway randomly under my feet. I was not meant to be anything but a landlubber.

All the best,

Riley

p.s. i just realized how many parentheses and run-ons this post used. I think when I'm writing i just bottle up all my bad habits and unleash them here. There should be a term for that. Blog therapy? Blerapy? EURGH THAT WORD IS DISGUSTING

...sorry. And the madness goes on!...

Goodness Gracious!

2011-08-02T05:30:00.000-07:00

WHOA! I've suddenly realized why I love books so much more than eBooks!

It sort of eluded me until now, to be honest. I had trouble pinpointing the exact reason. I knew it didn't feel right, but I didn't know why. I wasn't sure whether it was that new book smell, which enraptures readers everywhere, or something else... so I shelved the issue.

But I was just reading some ee cummings poetry online (fun fact: my favorite poets are ee cummings and Robert Frost), and I had an epiphany. Actually, the poem is still open in another tab. Let me state what I see when I click back over to it:

1) A link to the site's home page

2) Today's date, provided by the site

3) Links to "About," "Love Poems," "Song Lyrics," "Inspirational," and... um, "Links."

4) Search box

5) GoogleAds

6) A Smokey the Bear ad helpfully informing me that only I can prevent wildfires

7) A biography of e.e.cummings below the poem

8) Oh, right - the poem.

So I stared at the poem and I tried to focus on the words and I thought to myself, jeez, this feels so cluttered. I really wish I had a book of e.e.cummings poetry, because this just ain't cutting it.

And then I realized why I love books so much more than eBooks. It's because they have one purpose - to be a book.

A book is not advertising products or linking you up to other authors with similar styles. It's just a book.

A book is not categorizing and listing every book you own so you can scroll through and check out your whole library, all at once. It's just a book.

A book is not recording which books you have and haven't read, or how far you are through X book and how many times you've read it... It's just a book.

And a book is not trying to lead you back to an eBook store where you can merrily purchase more novels.

Why?

It's just a book.

It is words and it is paper. It has one purpose to serve, and that purpose is to transmit the writing.

I have an extremely short attention span. Few things suck me in these days like books do. I even have trouble writing sometimes, because I can switch so easily from Microsoft Word to the internet.

I don't want that to happen to my books. I want them to stay just books, items that serve exactly one purpose. "Read me," they say. "Read me now. Do nothing else." And I sit down, and I do.

To integrate that solace with my crazy, loud, interactive, schizophrenic, wacky digital life feels like blasphemy.

And that is why I am a backwards sort of girl who will not make the switch.

Are you also backwards? Or are you looking forward? Regardless of whether you've ePubbed - do you own an eReader? Are you planning to, or are you a stubborn son of a gun like me?

All the best,

Riley

Aw, Look at that Cute Little - AUUUGH MY THROAT

2011-07-22T05:30:00.000-07:00

I humbly present my entry for Michelle Simkins's Cute Evil Contest.

I give you ... "Dieday" (or Friday, the Uncut, Unedited, Undead Recording):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bhE-IwpEj9M&feature=channel_video_title

If you enjoy this silliness, hop over to her blog on Monday and help me win that freakin' adorable plush zombunny!

All the best,

Riley

Eat Your Feelings!

2011-07-19T13:32:00.000-07:00

This isn't going to be one of those inspirational posts about rejection, about how it Really Isn't Personal and how honestly you should Probably Just Get Over It. (Er, actually, that probably wouldn't turn out too inspirational.) Anyway, I already did a post on thick skin and scar tissue, so I'm just here to make a fun list of the stages I go through when rejections build up and make me flounder a little. These stages may seem a little familiar.

1) Denial

Notable quote: "Oh hey a response!" *opens* "Right! A rejection! That's fine! I'm not sad! It's just ... my 217th straight form rejection ... I'm totally okay! Yeah!"

Accompanying activities:

a. Watching clips of Stephen Colbert online and laughing loudly and falsely

b. Reading my The Onion anthology (yep, I have one) and partaking in more loud false laughter

c. Renting an irreverent movie and ... you guessed it; laughter

2) Anger

Notable quote: "Okay, wait, seriously? [THIS BOOK] got published!" *brandishes poorly-written book in the face of innocent bystander* "How did [THIS BOOK] get published if I can't even get an agent? Dude!"

Accompanying activities:

a. Narrowing my eyes at the wall, seething, and muttering

b. Reading classic literature and pretending I'm qualified to reminisce about the supposed Good Old Days of publishing

c. Considering a rant to various people, but eventually the rant deflates into...

3) Bargaining

Notable quote: "I mean, I could sell out and write to a trend. No! Only hacks do that, and it doesn't work with the timing of publishing anyway. I could ... I could self-publish. Yeah. There's a lot of good quality self-pubbed stuff out there. That's what I'll do." *sigh* "Or maybe I'll just go back to the fanfiction world, where I feel loved."

Accompanying activities:

a. Browsing Smashwords

b. Trolling through my old fanfiction and editing compulsively

c. Playing piano and telling myself, "See, you're still good at something!"

4) Depression

Notable quote: "AAauauuugh hanh hunh hhhnnnngggg... mmmrggggg"

Accompanying activities:

a. Chocolate

b. Thrashing/sobbing/being disgusting

c. Yelling into a pillow/a stuffed animal/my fist/my mattress/the carpet

d. Tearing up sheets of paper (this one's really quite therapeutic! You should try it)

e. Chocolate

f. Chocolate

5) Acceptance

Notable quote: *deep, shaky breath* "Well, that was fun. Okay. All better."

Accompanying activities:

a. Going back and looking through crit advice

b. Maybe starting that WIP I've been wanting to start for a while now

c. Taking some time off from my baby

d. After that time off ... I listen to some Ingrid Michaelson, settle down, and start a good hard edit.

Sometimes I have a mini-stage in between number 4 and number 5 which I fondly nickname the "catatonic/existentialist" stage. Involves huddling in bed, slack-jawed, thinking about my life and my goals and my future. I don't like that one.

Do you guys have any stages to add to the Famous Five?

All the best,

Riley

Memery, All Alone in the Moonlight...

2011-07-16T23:56:00.000-07:00

*is shot*

Oh, well. I've been struck with the #evilpantymeme, and I am helpless to resist its power. A ludicrous title is the least of my worries, folks.

Fabulous fellow goatposse members Anita Howard and Suzanne Payne tagged me. They are both fantastic people and a joy to share this blogoverse with! #goatlove

Oh, God, I'm hashtagging while not on Twitter. Someone slap some sense into me.

In any case, here goes the craziest meme of the century...

What do you call your panties/underwear/undergarments? Do you have any commonly used nicknames for them?

OH GOD I'M TOO AWKWARD FOR THIS.

just underwear... argh... this meme, it is scary.

Have you ever had that supposedly common dream of being in a crowded place in only your underwear?

HA. Nope. I'm awkward enough in real life that my dreams consist of situations in which I act considerably more suave than usual. Which means no unintended nudity/partial nudity.

What is the worst thing you can think of to make panties out of?

Argh... random object... RUBIK'S CUBES

If you were a pair of panties, what color would you be, and WHY?

Might as well be skin-colored. Those are always useful and stuff

Have you ever thrown your panties/underwear at a rock star or other celebrity? If so, which one(s)? If not, which one(s) WOULD you throw your panties/underwear at, given the opportunity?

Hahah, never had the opportunity. I'm not sure whether this is supposed to be a complimentary gesture, or what...? Let's go ahead and say Tom Felton. If it's a bad thing, my reasoning is that I hate Draco Malfoy. But if it's supposed to be a good thing, Tom Felton is pretty hot. Just sayin'.

You’re out of clean panties. What do you do?

hide in my bed.

Are you old enough to remember Underoos? If so, did you have any? Which ones?

I, um, don't know what this means. So I'm guessing the answer is no!

If you could have any message printed on your panties, what would it be?

I saw this really brilliant condom wrapper in Paris (this was at a tourist attraction. I wasn't actively seeking it out. It was just there. #lameexcuses) which had a picture of the Pope and a caption reading "I SAID NO!!!". Needless to say, I thought this was hysterical. Totally screen-printing that on my underwear.

How many bloggers does it take to put panties on a goat?

Forty-nine and a half!

Tag Four People and tell them why you are being so cruel to them.

Sorry, R.C. Lewis, Kacimari, Cherie, and Stephanie Diaz. You guys are it. Partial reasoning - I feel very uncomfortable tagging someone male. *dies*

THERE IT'S DONE

I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY NOW

*goes to cry in a corner*

All the best,

Riley

YAlcoholics Anonymous: A Guest Post by the Illustrious Greenwoman

2011-07-13T07:20:00.000-07:00

Today, I have a delightful guest post for your consumption from Michelle Simkins over at the funniest blog you ever did read. You will never regret following her. Not ever.

This is part of the Summer of Bloggerly Love, in which Bloggerly buddies go around talking about love and writing and other such delightfully sappy things. So, I have traded a post with The Illustrious Michelle, which means that after reading the below, you should skedaddle over to her blog and read mine. Golly! Who knew blogs could be so time-consuming?

Without further ado: YAlcoholics Anonymous

There's been so much FUSS over YA fiction on the internet this summer. Everything from "It's too dark" to "You can write YA even if you're STUPID!" to "YA Saves."

I, personally, reside deep inside the "YA Saves" camp. I'm really glad I have the internet, and have found so many other adults who aren't ashamed of their YA reading habits. Otherwise I might have to attend YAlchoholics anonymous. "Hello everyone. I'm Michelle. I'm 37 years old, and I read YA."

I've seen a few posts about why we read YA, and they all had plenty of good stuff to say. Those posts, written by people rather more respectable than yours truly, made me think about my own reading habits. The truth is, most of the time I like YA novels more than those written for grown ups. At least when we're talking about genre fiction. And no matter what those stupid slate article people say, I don't think it's because I'm immature.

Don't get me wrong, I AM immature. But I don't think that's why I read YA. ANYWAY! Here is, you guessed it, a LIST of reasons why I Love YA.

Make Me Laugh and I Might Follow You Home

I tend to handle stress by making jokes about my stupid situation, being sarcastic, and ranting to my friends whilst looking at them over the top of my glasses. So when I'm reading a book with stressful situations, I really like for the suffering to be alleviated with humor--especially of the snarky dialogue variety. I would never say that adult fiction is devoid of humor, nor would I say that YA is universally funny. I find, however, that when it comes to Urban Fantasy and paranormal fiction especially, YA fiction TENDS to have more funny. I find a lot of urban fantasy for grown-ups takes itself too seriously or tries to be edgy. That strikes me as very unrealistic. Probably because the people I know are all goobers, and I love that about them. (I am the biggest goober of them all, so don't be insulted, people I know! I mean it as a compliment.)

Feels Like the First Time

I don't miss being a teenager. I was a deeply unhappy person as a teenager, and you couldn't pay me enough to go back. BUT. There IS one thing I miss, and that is the intense, earth-shaking experience of first times. I'm not talking about sex. Or not only about sex. At that age, almost everything is new and strange and equal parts scary and wonderful. A kiss was a big deal when I was 15. These days I try to keep life really even keeled, but there's a part of me that misses the way everything felt so IMPORTANT. YA lets me relive that intensity without having to actually mess up my life.

Yeah, I'm Faking It

The truth is I rarely feel like a real adult. I feel like I'm faking it. I'm not even talking maturity here, though that's part of it. I just thought, when I was younger, I'd have it FIGURED OUT. The DMV wouldn't be a place of fear and torment, the grocery store wouldn't give me nightmares, I'd be a confident driver, keeping the house clean would be easy and, oh yeah, I'd make a lot of money. None of those things has happened yet, and I'm beginning to realize that they probably never will. I don't feel like an adult, so I often have trouble identifying with adult characters. I rarely have trouble identifying with teen characters. A teen character being overwhelmed by everything is natural; an adult character being overwhelmed by everything is just sad.

I Really AM An Alien. That Explains a Lot.

YA novels often feature characters who feel like outsiders, or feel incomplete, or like they always say and do the wrong thing. I think probably most kids feels that way. When I was younger I thought that would end when I became an adult. And it gets better, absolutely, but I think to a certain extent I'm just always going to feel a little bit outside of the "norm". Paranormal YA offers an exciting explanation for that feeling of alienness. "I don't quite fit in anywhere because I'm really a fairy/vampire/sorceress/demon/werewolf/valkyrie/alien from Jupiter" is so much more awesome than "I don't quite fit in anywhere because I have poor social skills and am too sensitive to noise and smells and don't really like people all that much." I like to feed the fantasy even if it IS too late to get my Hogwarts Letter.

A Blaward and Meme Combo! Plus, Contest Fun.

2011-07-08T09:25:00.000-07:00

This is a really fun and original contest sponsored by YAtopia: reallyfunandoriginalcontestsponsoredbyYAtopia.

Basically, type up an elevator pitch (a pitch in 2-4 snappy sentences) for your ms, assuming it's in one of Bree Ogden's genres - children's, MG, and YA - and get yo'self over there stat. She's got a pretty specific wishlist (and I love when agents do that!) on the page, but as long as it's children's, MG, or YA, it doesn't necessarily have to fit the wishlist.

Next order of business? I won an award from Greenwoman for being CUTE. Paaahahaha. Not gonna lie, though. This puppy's pret-ty adorable:

To accept the award, there's a strenuous initiation process involving several tests of fortitude and pain tolerance, beginning with stepping on burning coals and -

Wait, what's that you say? I just have to complete a meme-ly activity and tag people? Fine, that's cool too, I guess.

THE MEME-LY ACTIVITY

Five books, movies, or TV series I have watched in the last year:

5. Movie: Midnight in Paris - I LOVED this! Writer/Director Woody Allen (I love Annie Hall too) hasn't lost his touch. Owen Wilson was surprisingly good, and Rachel McAdams was great. Nice surprise seeing Mal from Inception, as well - I didn't know she was in it.

For anyone who hasn't seen the film, it centers around a sell-out Hollywood screenwriter with a romantic heart who wants to move to Paris (and do deeeep things like live in a little Parisian loft and take walks while thiiiiinking about liiiife). Problem: his asshole girlfriend (who only wants to marry him because he's rich) is like NO. Then, while they're in Paris buying wedding-y things, screenwriter dude discovers that, at midnight (IN PARIS, TITLE TROLOLOL), he meets famous people. Like, famous old dead people. Like F. Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso, Gertrude Stein, Ernest Hemingway (WHO WAS PERFECT AND HILARIOUS, BY THE WAY.), and many others. This movie was a total blast. Hemingway's dialogue was spoken exactly how he writes. It's so distinctive and hilarious and ack I frickin' loved it.

Oh god, I just reread that paragraph. How the hell did I ever write a comprehensible query?! XD

MOVING RIGHT ALONG

4. Book: Anansi Boys. I've read it 293857 times, it's still awesome, I still want to marry Neil Gaiman - or, well, I would if he and Amanda Palmer weren't so frickin' cute - etc. etc.. The rest is history.

3. TV: The Nine Lives of Chloe King. This was surprisingly good! I don't have cable - watched this at a friend's house - but I heard ABC Family shows are often of questionable quality. For what it's worth, I enjoyed what I saw of Chloe King very much. It's based on a YA series. Bonus points. Oh, and it doesn't hurt that Benjamin Stone is the most beautiful person that has ever trodden the Earth. You know.

2. Book: A Separate Peace. I adore this book. Turns on the waterworks (every... damn... time... *sniff*), and John Knowles' writing is so fluid and evocative. At the start, reading this book is like settling into a very small town or a very nuclear community and cozying up with the people and environment around you. You make the comfortable transition into a Certified Grade-A Small-Town Inhabitant, simply going through the small-town motions of life. But then, little by little, the book widens your perspective uncomfortably, widens it until it hurts to ignore what's outside your bubble. But by then you've gotten so used to being comfortable and ignorant that you'd rather focus on the beauty and brilliance of the things immediately within your grasp. So you do. And then the ending of the book tears that away, too, and you wish you'd never settled in in the first place, and you've got nothing but this raw ache and a lot of questions.

*cough* Sorry. It's a pensive book. It makes me act weird! Don't look at me like that! *hides face*

1. Movie: I saw The Green Lantern. Don't do this.

TAGGING OTHER PEOPLE YUP

1. AM Supinger, because she's legitimately adorable

2. Stephanie Diaz, because heck, she needs something to do when she gets back from her vacation

3. Jenny Phresh, because I'm secretly hoping that she'll make a twisted perversion of this meme as well and then I can laugh and be happy. Also, her picture with the green paint is SERIOUSLY awesome. Don't know about cute (okay, yeah, it's pretty darn cute too, especially the rockin' hairstyle) but 'awesome' has got a big fat checkmark by it.

YAAAYYY MEMING.

All the best,

Riley

In Which I Throw Colorful Diagrams At You

2011-07-04T18:36:00.000-07:00

At the urging of R.C. Lewis, I'm sharing with you a helpful diagram on how to write the perfect query. Here it is:

Oh ho ho ho I'm clever.

Just playin'.

Anyway. Well. Sure, this is just for chuckles, but I do love query-writing (and I love query-critiquing), so I have a couple thoughts on the issue.

The diagram states that we need magic for a query letter. And honestly, to an extent, that's just the truth. More on that in a bit.

Here's another fun diagram:

This is my Continuum of Querying. (Yeah, that's copyrighted. Not.) Somewhere along this line is the perfect query for you and your story. My current query lies about halfway down the line, while a query I sent out in the past would be pretty close to the formula end. Each story has its own unique place, where the query can get maximum bang for its buck, entice readers and come out crystal-clear. That's where the Magic happens. This is the packaging part of the query - which box you choose to put it in, which wrapping paper you pick. Which is important and all, but a lot of the time, I feel like writers put too much emphasis on the packaging. In the end, the story's going to speak for itself.

And let's face it - the story part of the query is far more important.

Lots of queries start out rough. The author polishes and polishes until the query shines. Then, sometimes, the author says, "You know what, I have a completely different idea on how to approach this." They then return with a totally different take on their novel that shines from the start. The parts of our story we choose to highlight in the query are as important as the way we present those elements.

Let's make an outlandish metaphor here: So we're trying to pitch a novel to an agent using this oyster.

Look at it. It's scabby and generally foul-looking. (No offense, oyster.) So you send it through the oyster-polisher, and what comes out is something like this:

You observe your oyster, proud of yourself. Look at that finely-sculpted back. Those defined ridges. Everything is clean and lovely and wonderful. "I'M DONE!" you cheer to the sky.

Not so, you soon discover. Because after a minute of quiet thought, you realize that at the heart of the oyster lies this:

"Well, dammit," you grumble, "if I'd just started here, this would all have been a hell of a lot easier."

If you're working and reworking and things just aren't shaping up perfectly, my advice is to try a new angle. What's at the heart of your story is vital, because it shows what you see your story to be about.

I mean, let's say your query portrays your novel as a bildungsroman about a young oyster named Phil who aspires to be a mussel. Great. Cool. But if, in your mind, the heart of the novel is the romance between Phil the oyster and Philippa the mussel-maid, you shouldn't be focusing on the bildungsroman. Talk about Phil and Philippa's epic romance.

And you know, maybe the novel IS actually a bildungsroman at this point in its life, and you can't see it because you're too close to the work. But the fact that you're pitching it as a love story shows that you want it to be one, and your vision for your novel is something that no one else can dictate. Not critiquers, not workshoppers, not agents. Don't lose it.

If you're getting too entrenched in details, withdraw. Take a deep breath.

First, find the right thing to say. Then say it. There is a spot on the Continuum© waiting for you.

All the best,

Riley

P.S. I like this diagram thing. I think I'm going to use them more often. =D

Picture This.

2011-06-29T00:58:00.001-07:00

It's really late at night. I got really curious. Could you do me a huge favor? Please?

Step 1: Don't scroll down past the hard returns until you're ready. This is an important part of the experiment.

Step 2:

Picture this:

A boy in his late teens stands before you. He is tall. His clear brown eyes glint with mischief. He has a confident, toothy smile, one that stretches his round, unblemished cheeks. He has dark hair and scraggly half-assed sideburns.

The boy is bare-chested. You notice the local parlor artist has stenciled a circular black tattoo on his left pectoral. He has big hands, too. His forearms' prominent veins snake into well-defined muscles, biceps, deltoids. His slim shoulders have a scar each, slim 'x's kissing the tips of his collarbones.

All right. Got him? If not, re-read until you do.

Step 3: if you have a pencil and paper handy, draw the boy. Even a simple sketch would be great. If you don't have pencil or paper, just reiterate his every feature to yourself. Make this as clear a mental image as you have made in your life.

Okay. Let's have some line breaks so you don't see the question before you're absolutely sure about that guy.

The question: is the boy black?

The description didn't say he was any specific race.

Did you assume he was white?

To be honest, I think I might have assumed he was white. And I've been wondering recently why that is. I've made lots of characters whose skin color I haven't specified, and in my mind, those characters have all been white. On the other hand, when I have a black character, I note it soon after meeting them in the narrative. Why do I feel compelled to elucidate the race of a character when they're a minority, but not when they're white?

Race in writing is . . . well, in my experience, it gets a little awkward. What if I want a character in my alternate universe who looks fundamentally Chinese? They, um, don't have Asia there. Sure, I could say that his/her eyes are slanted. But, as a half-Chinese girl, when people define us by our eye shape, I heave a mighty sigh. Yeah, sure, it gets the picture across, but it feels like such a trite way of doing so.

Actually, wait. A Hispanic character is a better example for what I'm trying to say. Let's say my alt. universe has a character whom I picture as looking Hispanic. I want to get this across to the audience, but they don't have 'Hispanic' in said universe. What do I say? That he's tanned, with thick eyebrows and eyes the color of loam? How do I portray, in a concise, efficient manner that I don't want, like, Hugh Jackman - who is also tanned, with thick eyebrows and eyes the color of loam?

Okay, sure, I could say he's darkly tanned. That might get the 'feel' of a different racial makeup across more clearly. But why should I have to? One of my good friends is Argentine. He looks super-Hispanic, although he's paler than most of my white friends. Why can't I have him in a novel where I simply don't have the means to say, "Kid's a pale Hispanic"?

If there's an easy fix, by all means, please tell me. My goal is to portray my characters by any means possible. I love diversity - I think it's beautiful, and I want my characters to be diverse. But is it just me, or is there an instant assumption that a character will be white unless otherwise specified? When someone tells you that a character is a young lady with brown hair and brown eyes, do you picture a white girl, a black girl, a Chinese girl, a Hispanic girl, an Indian girl? None of the above, or a blend of the above (like me! :D)?

Argh, and race is such a tetchy subject. I always feel like I'm walking on thin ice, just about to offend someone. I wish that no one would ever be oversensitive, or offensive. Am I a hypocrite for saying that when up above I was talking about being worn down by people talking about the shape of my eyes? Huh. In any case, that is a topic for another day.

My dear writerly friends, I am genuinely curious. Though I'd love to know, you obviously aren't obliged in any way to tell me what race you pictured for my sample man up above. But I think the issue of race in writing is a tough one. In the movies, it's easy. We've got it tough.

And the age-old questions: why do we have so few main characters who are black just because?I'm talking single main characters here. Like, single-narrator-this-is-straight-up-my-story-no-one-else's main characters. Not best friends (humiliatingly for the human race, the "black best friend" has a TV Tropes page). Not even love interests, though God knows they're a tough find too. Can minorities not be minorities without cause? No social commentary, no ethnicity being a pivotal aspect of their character?

There may be key pieces of literature that completely contradict what I'm saying. But I haven't read them recently. Or seen them in a single one of the books I browsed today at Borders (for an hour and a half).

Maybe I'm overly cynical. Or maybe I'm overly optimistic, for assuming this is going to change.

Not quite sure how to end this rant/extended musing session. How about with a question:

What do you think?

I am so very curious, and I'd love to see your answers.

I'm also particularly curious about this: if you're not white, do you think your own race influenced your perception of the sample-man above?

And if you are white, do you think your perception would have changed if you weren't white?

All the best,

Riley

Meme Overload

2011-06-28T20:31:00.000-07:00

I'm a HUGE fan of memes and blog tagging and all that lovely stuff. I'm just really terrible at getting around to reposting them. So I'm killing two birds with one stone (sorry, avian lovers) and meme-ing it up doubly. Meme #1 is from the fabulous Dana at A Squirrel Amongst Lions (how awesome is that blog name?!), and Meme #2 is from Just Jemi's Jemi Fraser, one of the kindest ladies on the entire interwebz.

MEME NUMBAH ONE:

If you could go back in time and relive one moment, what would it be?
You know what, I think I'd relive that time when my sister slammed my fingers in the attic door. What with all the descriptions of pain I write, I need a clearer reference, but I wouldn't like to inflict further damage on myself, so revisiting it seems like a viable alternative.

Ha, I've sort of wanted to mention this in passing for a while... you know those people who are all, "Pain is weakness leaving the body"? THAT'S STUPID. Pain is your body telling you that something is happening to your body that should not be happening.
*sigh* athletes aside...

If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?

Not a thing. Haven't garnered any life-changing regrets yet, and I like to keep the small regrets deep inside where they can fester and turn into characters' darker emotions. Muahaha!

What movie/tv character do you most resemble in personality?

I'd like to think someone cool and hip and mildly amusing, like Juno. She's pretty chill, too. Let's go with her - I'm feeling optimistic today.

If you could push one person off a cliff and get away with it, who would it be?

I don't really like the idea of killing anyone... but I'll tentatively propose Robert Mugabe. I don't like him. He ruined Zimbabwe and he's a jerk and he won't stop.

Name one habit you want to change in yourself.

Biting my fingers. Not my fingernails. I bite the fingers themselves, and it's weird and creepy. I need those!

Describe yourself in one word.

I believe 'quixotic' encompasses all we need...

Describe the person who named you in this meme in one word.

Impassioned! She has an infectious energy in blog posts, tweets, you name it. :)

Why do you blog? Answer in one sentence.
(I'm leaving Dana's answer. It's perfect:) To connect with writers, because they are the only ones who "get it."

Who am I tagging?
Ahh, no one just yet. Because I have to tag EIGHT below. =P

MEME NUMBAH TWO:

Are you hot?
Hell to the yes. It was over a hundred degrees today. It's raining now, though, so that's something.

Upload a picture or wall paper you are using at the moment.
It's, er, actually, I have several that scroll through. Here are a few of them...

...so yeah, um, I'm a creep. C'mon, though. Totally worth it.

When was the last time you ate chicken meat?
Like, just now. WELCOME TO MOE'S!

The Song(s) you listened to recently?
Oh holy crap. Let's see what I've got open in YouTube tabs:
"Still Crazy After All These Years" - Paul Simon
"Headlock" - Imogen Heap
Haydn Piano Concerto in D, 1st mvt. performed by Richter
"Braille" - Regina Spektor
"Violet Hill" - Coldplay
and in Windows Media Player, I just finished "Machine Gun" by Sara Bareilles and am getting ready to go to THE POKEMON THEME SONG. Extended version, of course. Hell to the yes.

What were you thinking as you were doing this?
People reeeeally didn't want to know all this information. Also, I should cut down on the creepiness that is my life.

Do you have nicknames?
Extensively. None of which I will ever reveal to the public at large. XD

Well, online, I have a couple - 'ant', and 'antic', which are both short for 'anticipa', my agentqueryconnect.com alias. :]

Tag eight Blogger friends. (eek, now I wish I could tag more. too many great writing friends!)

1. AM Supinger
2. Michelle Simkins
3. Tansy Ragwort
4. RC Lewis
5. Mindy McGinnis
6. Stephanie Diaz
7. Cat Woods
8. Peter Burton

Who's listed as number one?
AM Supinger, a dear AQC buddy, fantastic writer, tenacious query-reviser, fellow tweeplet, kindred Marathon participant, Facebook friend, and just all-around-awesome human being.

Say something about number 5.
I could go on forever about number 5! She is warm, inspiring, hilarious, witty, a phenomenal writer, agented (just had to put that in there), aaand I pretty much want to be her when/if I grow up.

How did you get to know number 3?
AgentQuery Connect! (Actually, er, everyone I tagged is from AQC... 'cause that's how I roll, I guess.) And I'm so glad I did. Tansy is a fantastically interesting person with one of the most unique writing styles I've had the good fortune to read.

How about number 4?
Yup, also AgentQuery Connect. XD So fortunate to share a crit group with Ms. RC - the more time I get to spend around her wise counsel (and ballin' fantasy world), the better!

Leave a message for number 6.
Dear Stephanie: you are ridiculously cool; things you say all too frequently make me grin like an idiot. And you're a kickass writer to boot. Weehee! *pops streamers*

Leave a lovey-dovey message for number 2.
HONEY BUNCH, SWEETIE PIE, I LOVE YOU FOREVER, I'M MOVING TO OREGON TO BE WITH YOU.
...don't be surprised when I show up.
...I'm bringing friends. we're gonna stake out in your lawn.
...we'll bring faeries, though, to compensate.

Do number 7 and number 8 have any similarities?
Both AQCers! Oh dear, this is getting predictable! Actually, though, they are remarkably similar in that they're both incredibly and overwhelmingly positive people (FOUR adverbs in one sentence? get this kid a machete!). I want to surround myself with folks like Peter and Cat all the time. I feel like my life would be a sunny, delightful place 24/7. =]

I, like Jemi, will state: Please feel no pressure to complete the tag - it's all about fun, not to cause stress!

All the best,

Riley

Skeleton Key, chapter 4: A Round Robin Blogvel

2011-06-27T00:00:00.000-07:00

Hey there, everyone! I bring you chapter four of Skeleton Key, a collaborative blog novel. The first three chapters (which you will need, by the way, to understand what the hell is going on) are thus:

The Delightful Greenwoman's Chapter One

The Fantastic AM Supinger's Chapter Two

The Wonderful Stephanie's Chapter Three

Next week, you'll get Chapter Five at The Creativity Rebellion!

The full Table of Contents ~~is (is? are? both sound wrong. let's just say 'can be')~~ can be found here.

I had a blast writing this chapter, and I hope you have a blast of similar proportions reading the thing. Buckle up...

CHAPTER FOUR

I shove through the doors and take a deep, sweet, clean, human breath.

The New York sunshine beats down around my head. People stream by. Innocuous people. But I practically expect them to burst into song and dance. In fact, I can imagine the tune now. “This is a joke; this is a joke! You’re quite insane, you might be on coke…”

A crazed laugh slips from my lips, and I shove my hair behind my ear.

“What’s so funny?” comes Ax’s voice from behind me, and I jump.

“Don’t … do that.”

“What, speak?”

“No. I don’t know. Lurk unexpectedly.”

He levels his eyes at me. They smolder. Literally. Red licks at the edges of his buttery irises, like magma eating at gold. “I shall try not to … lurk,” he mutters, but it’s clearly taking effort for steam not to issue from his ears again.

I turn away and clear my throat. “Let’s, uh, get searching. Big city … big … entire world…” My voice fails. This is literally not possible. Why couldn’t I get a hunting companion that had visions? Given the whole ‘dragon’ thing, I’d hazard a guess that Ax’s abilities won’t be so handy in this situation. Unless we suddenly find ourselves in need of a charcoal briquette.

“Not so fast,” Ax sighs. “Come on, this way.”

I follow his fast footsteps toward an entrance to a dark alley. I hesitate for a second, but he throws an unimpressed look over his shoulder. “I know humans can walk faster than that.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket. “Agh, what,” I blurt. Right. I have friends. I have family. And they need tending to.

I whip my phone out. “Hello?”

Ax turns and stares outright, his thick eyebrows curving into a sharp frown.

My sister’s voice echoes through the line. “Beck! How’s everything going? How’s the job?”

Ashley never fails to get straight to the point. “It’s … it’s great,” I say, injecting some enthusiasm into my voice. “You know, Ash, I actually, uh, just got a promotion!”

“No shit? You’ve only been there three weeks, right?”

“Um, yes. That. But they … needed someone of my specifications.” I clear my throat. “And so. I actually will be going on a, uh, business trip. For… some amount of time.” I press my finger to the phone’s speaker. “How long should I say?” I hiss to Ax.

He looks taken aback and shrugs. The movement looks stiff and unnatural.

I roll my eyes and take my finger away. “It’s a few days. I think.”

“Probably three or four, right? That’s how long my first business trip was.”

“Yes. Yes, that.” I take a deep breath. “You know what, I’ve actually got to go … pack. I haven’t had a chance to tell Mom and Dad—could you handle that? Tell them I’m really sorry, but I won’t have phone service … where I’m going.”

“And where’s that?”

I blink. “T—Tonga.”

“Where the hell is Tonga?”

I pull at my hair. Ax continues to watch me, making me feel more awkward by the second. “I don’t really know. But! There’s no service there. So.”

“Are you okay, Beck? You sound really stressed.”

I let out a long breath and meet Ax’s burning eyes. “Stressed … I’m stressed, yeah. But it’s going to be fine. I’ll call you when I get back?”

“Hold on. Didn’t you say yesterday that you’d never even met your boss? Why are you suddenly going on a—”

“You know what, Ash, I’m actually—I’ve actually got to go. Love you! Bye!” I snap the phone shut and approach Ax. “Sorry.”

“It’s quite all right. You should probably clean up your mortal affairs, just in case.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “You’re making this seem pretty hazardous.”

“Well.” He gives me that slow smile once more, but my swelling dread drowns out the sudden lurch of attraction. Get yourself together. He’s not even your species. “At least you’re not trying to delude yourself.”

Then he grabs me around the waist and pulls me right up against his body. I take in a sharp breath and smell something like ash before we explode into flame.

My eyes snap shut. Heat engulfs my body, but it doesn’t hurt. After a second or two of a dull roar, the noise fades, and it feels like someone is tugging me through a tube sock feet-first. The friction burns, and I find myself twisting my hands into the back of Ax’s shirt. A deep humming comes from the very center of his chest.

Then the sensation halts abruptly, leaving my mind spinning and my stomach more than a little unsettled. The heat vanishes, replaced by bitter cold. I crack my eyes open.

Ax strokes my hair out of my eyes. I flinch away, staring around at the landscape. It’s dusk, wherever we are, no longer mid-afternoon. Snow lies inches thick on the ground, and the writing on the faintly-Tudor-reminiscent buildings is definitely not English. “Where the hell is this? What did you do? Was that fire? Get off, you asshat!”

Snow whirls around in flurries. I push against Ax, who grips me tighter for a second before loosening his hold reluctantly. “The outskirts of Reykjavik. And I am not an asshat.”

“Iceland?”

“Yes. Iceland.”

My mind reels. “Why? How?”

“The Embassy here—the transit center, that is—has a tool we’re going to need, if I recall correctly.” His face creases in recollection. “I faintly remember dropping it off here in 1856.”

“Eighteen ... fifty-six.”

“Yes.” He doesn’t give me time for the gaping I’m planning on. Instead, he drapes his arm over my shoulder—it gives off enough heat to render the cold practically unnoticeable—and steers me toward a narrow two-story building. The words stenciled in above the doorframe read: “Mjög Grunsamlegt Vinnustaðurinn.”

Icelandic. What a user-friendly language.

I try the door. It’s locked.

Ax somehow wrenches it open anyway. Warm light spills out in a golden semi-circle onto the snow, and we walk in.

The place is a restaurant, a classy one. Silence falls over the ten or so inhabitants. Several of them, the ones at a table in a corner, are covered in fur.

“Hadriax!” exclaims one of them, in a voice that sounds pretty close to a balloon deflating.

Ax inclines his head. “Is Skynjar here?”

“In the back.”

Ax leads me toward the white door at the back of the room as the people in the room start chatting again. “Why are they speaking in English?” I mutter.

“It’s an accepted common language for earthly purposes. Convenient, too, because I don’t speak Sacred Empirical or Old Vampira or Nerlid or any of that.”

“Nerlid?”

“The furry ones are Nerlids. I think they’re here to negotiate some sort of bargain with Skynjar. Their dimension is having some problems with the Guild, and they need a loan.”

I sigh. “That means nothing to me.”

“That’s fine.” We come to a halt outside the door.

“Who’s Skynjar?” I ask.

“My brother. Who is significantly less patient than I am, so I would suggest you… not talk.” Ax’s eyes plead with me. “I’m serious.”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

I nod.

Ax opens the door in the back. I follow him inside.

Oh my God. Ax said this guy was his brother, but I was picturing … well, a guy. I was also picturing a room with regular dimensions.

What I was not picturing was a dragon the size of a small plane sprawled out on the floor with a hardback book, pince-nez sitting bizarrely on the end of his snout. What I was not picturing was a cavernous dungeon-like room, the floor and ceiling made of dark stone, lit by torches in brackets. What I was not picturing was filing cabinet upon filing cabinet, stacked up against the walls for probably hundreds of feet, completely obscuring the walls themselves. The gray metal of the cabinets reflects the flickering flames of the torches.

I make a conscious effort to shut my mouth. Doesn’t work.

“Ax!” exclaims Skynjar, throwing the book to the side. It hits the filing cabinets with a muffled clang. The dragon’s rumbling voice evokes simmering coals, somehow.

“Skyn. How are you?”

“Doing well.” Skynjar sits up straighter, flexes his huge wings, and cracks his long neck. It makes a noise like a cannonball being shot. “What brings you here? It’s been a while.”

“The New York Embassy is having some difficulty. Some fool decided it would be a wonderful idea to kill our doorkeeper and steal her key.”

Skynjar’s bulbous eyes go wide. “Great Flames of Heaven.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

Ax sighs. “It’s all been most unfortunate. But I need to reclaim that Hummer I gave you in … I think it was 1856.”

“Fifty-six. Good year,” says Skynjar.

“Yes.”

“Hummer, like the car?” I whisper. Ax looks down at me, an expression of almost-amusement on his features, and shakes his head.

Then Skynjar whirls into motion, and I take a step back. He rifles through filing cabinet after filing cabinet, yanking drawers open up and down the walls, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Every so often, something flies out, but not sheaves of papers or manila envelopes. A golden chalice comes out of one, a dark string of obsidian from another. A glowing crown shrieks and tries to fly up to the ceiling with its raven-dark wings, but Skynjar snatches it out of the air and stuffs it back into its drawer.

Never quite pictured a dragon’s hoard being so … organized.

After a few minutes of clanking and yanking and disapproving mutters from Skynjar, he raises a green-gold claw in victory. “Found it!”

“Thank you,” says Ax. Skynjar lumbers toward us, the pince-nez quivering on the end of his nose. He hands Ax what looks like a policeman’s radar gun, only small and made from brass. Ax sniffs it a couple times and seems satisfied by whatever he smells.

“Who’s the mortal, by the way?” asks Skynjar, his voice flavored with mild distaste. I scowl, but don’t say anything. I have better things to do than get incinerated.

“She’ll be wielding this.”

“Well, obviously, but who is she? And why her?”

Ax hands me the Hummer. I hesitate, sniff it experimentally—doesn’t smell like anything except dust; I sneeze—and Skynjar lets out a laugh.

“A prophetess saw her in a vision back at the New York Embassy,” says Ax.

“You have a prophetess over there? That’s unfair,” grumbles Skynjar. “I’ve been lobbying for us to get something as simple as a Tarot character for a century now. A Wheel of Fortune would be nice, though I've always thought it would be nice to have an Empress or a High Priestess around. Those Nerlids need serious controlling when they get their hands on Smirnoff, which happens with irritating frequency —”

Ax gives him a grim smile. “Yes, well. My apologies, but we really must get going. We have a murderer to catch.”

“The mortal’s got a nice sound to her, by the way.” Skynjar’s voice is appreciative.

I shove the Hummer in my jacket pocket. A nice sound to me?

Ax bristles. “Yes. Sublime, in fact.”

A ripple of light darts over Skynjar’s iridescent scales. “Oh. Oh,” he says, his voice suddenly filled with wonderment and disbelief. “Is this the one? A mortal?”

Ax nods. “Yes, brother. I have found a mate.”

“Don’t I get any sort of say in this?” I blurt.

Skynjar’s huge head turns to me. Ax’s arm snakes around my waist instantly.

Skynjar’s snout lowers to me, and I close my eyes as he sniffs at my hair. “Not really,” he hisses.

My breath builds up in a suffocating bubble in my throat.

“We’ll be going,” says Ax, his voice careless, even though his hand on my waist is viselike, and … is it just me, or is it heating up by the second? “Thank you, Skyn.”

Skynjar backs away. “Any time.” He starts shutting the filing cabinets, and we exit the door into that bizarrely normal restaurant.

My legs feel about as able to support me as pipe cleaners. I let out an awkward, high-pitched “Ehhh…”

Ax shakes his head. “I told you to stay quiet,” he mutters, but he sounds like he thinks it’s pretty funny that I might have almost been eaten by his brother.

My hand finds the Hummer in my pocket. “This thing. What does it do?”

We exit into the snow. I move closer to Ax. The waves of heat pouring off him turn the snow at our feet to slush in seconds.

“It’s a tracker,” he says. “It finds supernatural traces.”

“Like … a Geiger counter for magic?”

“Not magic, per se, but in essence, yes.”

“Where do we start?”

Ax looks up into the darkening sky. “The New York Embassy is the largest on earth. The second-largest is in Istanbul. And if there’s been one murder—”

“It’s safe to assume he’ll try to do it again?”

“Exactly.”

“What could the guy want?” I muse aloud. “What’s he got to gain from this?”

Ax’s eyes simmer, and a tiny bit of steam ekes its way from his ears. “There are ten Embassies. Shutting them all off means Earth will be a disjuncture.”

“A what-now?”

“The planet will disconnect completely from other dimensions. Earth is a middle ground, and a peace haven. Supernatural beings are forbidden from hurting each other here. Earth also provides convenient and direct transport to every other dimension; losing it means utter political chaos, with some worlds at a distinct advantage.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “And last time, it meant war.”

Well, damn. What do I say to that? My fingers tighten around the handle of the Hummer.

“Let’s go,” says Ax, pulling me tight against him once more.

We explode into flame.

Le First Page

2011-06-25T11:56:00.001-07:00

This awesome contest is hosted by Shelley Watters at her epic blog, Is It Hot In Here, Or Is It Just This Book? Thanks for the chance to have a first page read, Ms. Watters!

Here are my first 250 words. Give or take a few. Thanks in advance to anyone who critiques!

Title: PARTITION

Genre: YA Dystopian Romance

Word count: 89,500

Note: Edited, re-edited, aaand re-re-edited! Thanks everyone for your awesome perspective.

MAYA

No one sneaks into the Glass City and returns unscathed, especially not us Pewts. My best friend told me not to come. He said this was stupid and reckless, and he was probably right, but I gotta try.

I wish he was here. Hell, I wish any of my friends had the guts to climb up with me.

But it’s probably less the climbing part and more the breaking-into-prison part that scared ‘em off.

As I pull myself up, my bare feet struggle to grip the glass pillar, and my biceps burn like acid. I spit a curse into the darkness, reminding myself that this pain is probably nothing next to what’s coming. If I get back without some sorta serious injury, it’ll be a miracle.

I look down, and my throat yanks shut like the neck of a drawstring bag. This height is dizzying, painful, and being so close to the top is unreal. I’ve seen the City my whole life from below, seen it sitting smug on these glass anchors like it’s balanced on a forest of fat crystal straws. Beautiful, especially compared to the filth of the Sprawl.

The City’s stilts are linked together by a webwork of shining metal struts, which make solid footholds. So it’s possible to climb up, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean it’s easy. Someone told me the anchors aren’t real glass – knowing the Glass City, it’s probably some sorta special-engineered material.

I grit my teeth and haul myself up to the next strut, hugging myself to the glass as the wind blusters by.

RAGE!

2011-06-24T10:30:00.000-07:00

Okay, this Slate thing. So condescending. So painful to read. So painful to think that this . . . person is putting books on the shelves while the YA writers I've interacted with are among the hoards of the unpublished.

I'm sorry, internetz. I allowed myself to get worked up. Really, I shouldn't have, but I just felt so . . . actually, you know what the word for this is? I felt so bullied.

And I spent far too long typing this response. I was going to leave it in the comments, but the length verged on ridiculous.

Besides, I withheld a rant on the WSJ article, so I might as well unleash the beast now.

Hem, hem:

"But then Katie's publisher pitched her on doing a Y.A. series, mostly because she's somewhat immature and teenager-ish anyway, so why not turn that weakness into a strength?"

Oh my God.

"When it's completed, the other one innocently asks to make a pass "for editing" and then reads it aloud in a mocking voice and turns the most embarrassing lines into an email signature."

Oh my God.

"In Y.A. you write two or three drafts of a chapter, not eight. When kids like one book, they want the next one. Now."

...oh my God...

"But readers in Y.A. don't care about rumination. They don't want you to pore over your sentences trying to find the perfect turn of phrase that evokes the exact color of the shag carpeting in your living room when your dad walked out on your mom one autumn afternoon in 1973."

...oh my God!

...you're right!

You know what, as a simple teenager whose mind is filled with naught but marshmallow foam (and a few spiders), I'd never before had the intellect to realize this vital tenet of my existence: I actually couldn't care less about good writing! And God knows I don't have the attention span to care about detail, either, like said shag carpet. (Worldbuilding--paaah; who needs it?) Quality literature for teenage minds--double paaah; who needs THAT?

I mean, really, who cares about evoking emotion in the reader with the sheer beauty--and yes, though a Big Important Literary Author such as yourself may not fully appreciate it at times, simplicity--of a story, such as Jay Asher's Thirteen Reasons Why?

Who would ever miss sitting back, gazing at the pages of Lauren Oliver's Before I Fall and thinking, "I am so in love with the lyrical feel of these sentences; the craft of this author"?

Who could care less about falling in love with Patrick Ness's complex and finely-wrought characters over and over until their sheer verve, heart, and determination bring tears to one's eyes?

I mean, good Lord! Who the hell cares that there are thousands of writers out there striving to break into the YA market, psychologically complex characters, plots, and concepts in hand? Who could give two shits about ANY of that when we can already draw from the carefully-crafted brilliance that is THE MAGNOLIA LEAGUE?

Well, not I!

Thank you for raining this gift upon us! Thank you for settling for writing Young Adult, as you've made clear you have by your reiterations as to how easily pleased our reading audience is. Your donation to our lowly reader base is so appreciated. In fact, your magniloquence is unrivaled, insofar as I've been able to ascertain, by man.

And, more than anything, thank you for opening my eyes. I can be a lot less discerning with my reading now that I've realized I only read crap. You've done a lot of simplification for me.

Oh, wait.

Actually, it'll probably be harder to find the low-quality-churned-out-just-because YA literature. Because, thank God, there are a wealth of exceedingly talented authors who are dedicated to making a difference in the lives of teens that need books, and need quality books, and are blessed enough to have them.

Fifteen years ago (when I couldn't read yet, thank goodness), the YA section didn't exist. Now? I count myself lucky to have shelves of beautifully-written, painstakingly-wrought YA in this very bedroom. And I count myself lucky that I can now steer well clear of adding THE MAGNOLIA LEAGUE, in all its second-or-third-draft glory, to the ranks of said shelves. I need nothing that speaks down to me, nothing at all reminiscent of 'ohhh, we were so foolish and immature when we were young.' Because sweetheart, you may have been immature when you were a teenager, but when you write, you damn well better treat us like people with higher thinking powers than you seem to think we possess.

And, just so you know, I read almost exclusively YA, but in my time reading it, I've found nothing targeted for readers who act anywhere near as petulant, childish, and downright disrespectful as you are by having published this article.

Go back to literary fiction. It misses you. And I can assure you that we don't need you.

Fashionable Writing

2011-06-22T15:50:00.000-07:00

It's been a week! A big, fat, juicy week. And summer is setting in.

We can observe this using a handy-dandy diagram I've created. It displays the progression of the time I wake up: ---------------->

Anyway. I considered making up a clever way to tie in the subject of this blog post to the above tidbit of information. But then I decided not to, because it'd be such a blatant and incompetent segue that it's not even worth it.

So. Let's get started!

Okay, well, wait. First of all, there's this EPIC contest at the wonderful Shelley Watters' blog. It kicks off in a couple days, involves free critiques from the writing community, and has a chance to win an agent read. Too good to be true, you say? False!

Anyway. [insert another incompetent segue here]

During #askagents, etc., people always ask about trends, and I've decided that I don't like trends. At all. But WAIT! This is only partially because I'm bitter about the fact that I've got a dystopian novel in a world that is veritably bursting out the sides with dystopian novels. [/bitterness]

Fun fact: Plain and simple, I just think trends are silly! They make me chuckle. They make me tee-hee. (Did I just type that? Lord... about that sleep thing...)

I have three reasons that trends are totally laughable:

Reason number ONE:

People use them as excuses. "I can't sell my novel because it's not teen paranormal romance." HA. Really? Because not everyone is a teenager who likes to read paranormal. Odds are, if your novel isn't selling, it's not because of its genre. At best, it's not selling because your pitch leaves something to be desired. At worst, it's not selling because... er, it's bad.

Was that too harsh? Yikes. Seriously, though. I didn't shelf my contemporary last summer because I was bitter and angry at its lack of vampires. That just sounds silly. I shelved it because, given the response to the queries I sent out, either the pitch or the product needed work. And odds are, if you're crouching behind the flimsy excuse that is "this won't sell because it's not 'in' right now", you need some speedy disillusionment.

Reason number TWO:

People use them as INCENTIVES. Oh, and this is so much worse than the first one! When someone says, "What's flooding shelves right now? I'd better write it!" the delay in publishing means that they're already riding the back end of the curve. Oh, and if it's good stuff, it'd get out there regardless of the trend. The irony is palpable.

Reason number THREE:

They make us look bad. No, really. When I walk through Borders and see the bookcase labeled 'Teen Paranormal Romance', it is noticeably lacking in customers. And when people (my reading friends, not my writing friends [though they do overlap (what's with these parentheses)]) talk about trends in YA fiction, it's almost always with a note of disdain. "Oh my gaaaahd, why can't writers write anything ORIGINAL these dayzzz???" Etc., etc.

This is depressing, because almost invariably, it's good stuff that's getting published. It's just that the overload makes people think in terms of genre rather than in terms of story. "Yet another dystopian novel," is the sigh the weary shelf-browser heaves. And, "Yet another teen paranormal romance," is what they remember, and so on, and so forth, rather than being more specific to the story at hand.

Trends change. But really, their existence irks me, because it makes the writing community self-conscious. I'm itching to start some sort of movement - the IGNORE IT movement. Just pretend X genre isn't trending. Just ... write the story. If it happens to be of X genre, so be it, but Lord, if it's not, and you end up trunking it, don't blame X genre for your failure. And certainly don't write toward X genre in hopes of success.

I'm probably preaching to the converted, but whatever. So do priests. #yayCatholics

...toooo much time on Twitter. I'm going to go and punish myself with exercise. Or edits. Knowing myself, the latter will probably suck me in... Yay!

All the best,

Riley

Undercover YA #3: Slangin' it Up

2011-06-15T17:04:00.000-07:00

First of all, happy summer!

Second of all, a quick recap on what UNDERCOVER YA is:

I just turned seventeen the other week, and while I was chatting with some lovelies at AgentQuery Connect, the idea was raised that I milk the fact that I am the YA target audience. So, as a result, we have the Undercover YA Question Series.

You tell me what you want to know about young adults. Literally anything. Teen eating habits (oh dear)? Sure. The types of things one hears in a high school hallway (double oh dear)? Okay. The types of kids that actually read books? Mmhmm. College applications? ...I've sure as hell got you covered there, haha.

But it's not going to be just me answering. Here's the dealio:

1) Email me a question.
2) I ask anywhere from 5 to 10 of my friends to answer. (If they get tired of answering I'll just blackmail them or something :D)
3) I answer too.
4) I post the answers and a sort of statistical-analysis/summary-type thing, with my regular flair and panache.

I have no questions at the moment! Please email me some at RileyRedgate@gmail.com.

More details: Intro!

That said, I'm about to break some rules for #3. It's not exactly an opinion question, so I've just compiled a sort of dictionary for it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

The question:

What slang (besides curse words) is "in" right now and how do you use it properly? Also what does it mean? Can you give me a Teen Slang for dummies?

The answer:

Yes! Yes, I can. Awesome question; a good dose of knowledge about how we talk can go miles toward realistic dialogue, even if slang isn't used much.

So, without further ado, I'm going to go on Facebook and define a bunch of random crap I see there, along with appropriate usage:

TEEN SLANG FOR DUMMIES

Bro (also brah, bruh): Short for 'brother.' Used liberally as an exclamatory, as a reference to a person, as a reference to a type of male... take your pick. Often used in association with someone who is especially fratty. See the 'frat bro' section of The Official Guide to High School Stereotypes for details.

Example:

"Bro! Did you see his hair?" cackled Franklin.

"Calm down, bro," Pierce sighed. "The guy's a chill bro. Who cares if his hair... uh, is purple?"

Chill: 1) (adj.) Laid-back; calm; easygoing. Highly positive connotation. 2) (verb, imperative; also chill out; chill the [insert expletive of your choice here] out; take a chill pill) Used when someone is overreacting.

Example:

1) "Yeah, I like Julia. She's chill," said Rutherford.

2) Julia paced frantically, wild-eyed. She chewed on her hair. "Oh my God, Liz, I think Rutherford likes me! What do I do?"

Liz rolled her eyes. "Dude, chill the hell out."

Cool (also sweet, awesome): Great. Excellent. Eliciting a positive reaction. This is the most basic and commonly-used of slang, appropriate in all situations for approval, verification and agreement.

Example:

"Want to see the movie at five thirty instead of five?" asked Franklin.

"Cool," said Eleanor.

Dude (also man): 1) A random interjection, for the sportier of types. 2) A person, generally (though not necessarily) male.

Example:

1) A dead body hit the ground in front of him. "Dude!" Benjamin yelped, leaping backward.

2) "Yeah, he's a cool dude," agreed Caroline.

Epic Fail (also fail): Something that never should have happened. (Fun fact: this term originated on the internet. Computer types are far more likely to use it.)

Example:

John slipped and fell.

"You fail," Abigail snickered. "Epically."

FB Official (also Facebook Official; FBO): When two people are in a relationship that has been proven legitimate by its presence on Facebook. People do indeed use this term in real life.

Example:

"Is Margaret seriously dating him?" Zachary groaned.

"Yeah, man. It's Facebook Official."

Freak out (also flip out; flip a shit): To descend into panic.

Example:

Theodore shrugged. "Then he turned into a cat, and I just..."

"Freaked out?" suggested Alice. "Naturally."

Frickin' (also freakin'; friggin'; flippin'): F***ing, for the more reserved.

Example:

"Ms. Washington gave us an extension on the project. All we did was ask," said Martha.

George punched the air, grinning. "No frickin' way!"

Guys: 1) Boys. 2) People at large, usually in direct address.

Example:

1) "Guys can sit over there; girls, sit over here," said Michelle.

2) "Guys, stop talking, I'm trying to do my presentation," sighed Barack.

Holy balls (also Holy crap; Holy shit; Holy f***; Holy hot damn): Yeah... an endearing entry. Pretty sure it doesn't need defining.

Example:

Laura threw a wrench at George.

He ducked out of the way. "Holy balls! What are you doing?"

"If you can dodge a wrench," she said sagely, "you can dodge a ball." She threw another.

Lame: Pathetic, in a sad sort of way. (Fun fact: people who try too hard are the epitome of 'lame' in the high school world.)

Example:

Bill rolled his eyes. "Mr. Clinton called me 'bro' today. He tries way too hard."

"That's so lame," sighed Hillary.

Legit: Short form of 'legitimate,' but don't be fooled. This word has endless usage. As an agreement, a question of something's verity, a description of someone who's really intense...

Example:

"Caroline's seriously legit," said Millard. "She's ranked first in the country for tennis."

"Wait, are you being legit?" said Abigail. "That's frickin' insane."

"You're telling me."

Like (also so; oh my God; totally; just; even): All of the above are entirely unnecessary interjections seen with great frequency in teenage speech. Do not overuse. Especially common in girls when they're talking about boys.

Example:

"Oh my God, Monica, he, like, was so totally just flirting with you."

"Shut up! Oh my God, I just, like, can't even believe this."

the Man (also the bomb; the bomb dot com; the shit; the jamz): If you're any of the above, you've done something that merits great praise. Either that, or you're just really cool.

Example:

Rosalynn bit her lip. "Do you think you could maybe give me a ride home after soccer?"

"Yeah, no problem," said Jimmy.

"Thanks. You're the man."

My man: A good friend. Often used in greeting.

Example:

"Hey, Benjamin," said John.

Benjamin stood. "My man! How's it going?"

No shit (also Naw dip; Naw, really?; No shit, Sherlock): Sarcastic ways of saying, "I already knew that." No shit is sometimes an agreement, or a legitimate question as to whether something really happened.

Example:

1) "Ow! The sun hurts to look at," Dwight complained.

Mamie rolled her eyes. "No shit, Sherlock."

2) "I heard Florence and Warren broke up," said Bess.

"No shit?" said Harry. "I thought they were going to get married."

Righteous (also boss; radical; neat): These are so-called 'retro' synonyms for 'cool'. Hipsters use them because they like being ironic. For more information on hipsters, check out the Official Guide to High School Stereotypes.

Example:

George adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses and peered closer at the Animal Collective t-shirt. "This thing is so boss!"

"You're such a hipster," Barbara muttered. "Get a haircut."

ROFL (also ROFLMAO, rofflewaffles, rofflecopter): Rolling On the Floor Laughing (My Ass Off). And yes, people do say this in real life. Keep them in your thoughts and prayers.

Example:

Grace said, "Chuck Norris can slam revolving doors!"

"Roffle," replied Calvin.
"You are neither rolling on the floor nor laughing."

Calvin shrugged. "W slash E." (fun fact: w/e means whatever. people do not say this in real life.)

Sick (also crazy; insane): Severely awesome.

"Did you see that goal?" exclaimed Nancy.

Ronald grinned. "That was freakin' sick."

Suck it: "I have bested you in some manner; feast on my superiority."

Example:

"I got a 90 on my test!" crowed Grover.

Frances grinned. "I got a 100; suck iiit!"

To the max: Short form of 'to the maximum'. The epitome of something.

Example:

"Whoa, she actually smells like prunes," said Martha.

"Old lady to the max," agreed Thomas, wrinkling his nose.

What's up? (also How's it going?; What's goin' on?; 'sssuuuuup?): "Good day, sir; how are you faring at this moment, and are there any recent occurrences of note that you might care to share with me?" This question doesn't always require an answer.

Example:

She passed him in the crowded hall. "Hey, James, what's up?"

"Eliza! What's up?" he said.

She hardly had time for a "Not much" before the crowds swept them away.

Yo (also hey): Typically, a greeting. Can also be a random interjection.

Example:

Louisa waved. "Over here."

John caught sight of her. "Yo."

-------------------------------

So, that's that! Hope it's helpful. And yes, I did use names of presidents and their respective wives for all my examples. Except Benjamin Franklin, but he's awesome. Oh, and the Monica one. *shifty looks*

Need any more terms defined? List 'em in the comments.

And again, if you have a question for the series, please hit me up: RileyRedgate@gmail.com

All the best,

Riley

Method Writing

2011-06-13T12:35:00.000-07:00

So, a while back, when #YAsaves went viral, a spin-off was created: #YAkills. These ironic spin-offs had me ROTFLOL. My pithy donation was something like this:

Had to kill a dude before reading The Hunger Games. Some people are method actors. I'm a method reader.

Har-dee-har-har. If there's actually a method reader out there... *gulp* I pray you never pick up Lord of the Flies. But in any case, whether method readers exist or not, I'm pretty sure there are method writers. This is, of course, a.k.a. "write what you know."

I've always had sort of an issue with Write What You Know. I was thinking about it today while I was driving. I saw a motorcycle sitting in someone's driveway. It had a FOR SALE sign pinned to the back of it, and I wondered, huh. Should I snap that up? Should I find someone with a motorcycle who'll let me ride it or something? For future reference? Just in case?

I lead what could definitely be considered a sheltered life. Also, being seventeen, I have limited life experience to draw from. As a result, WWYK has always felt like a barrier. I end up asking myself, Why are you qualified to write about this?

I always get over it in the end, though. There are method actors, who immerse themselves in sometimes-extreme circumstances in order to 'find' their characters. But for every method actor, there are many who don't need a tangible connection to the character's life. They find a mental one.

I consider myself part of the latter crowd. I don't need to crash a motorcycle to write about someone who's in a motorcycle crash. Even if I couldn't just look up firsthand accounts of motorcycle crashes (thank you, internet) - I can imagine the sound and the sight and the smell of it. Drawing on experiences I have had, I can imagine how fast it would be over, how surreal the aftermath would feel. And I can impose these circumstances on my character to find an emotional connection.

We can't pretend to know everything. God knows no one's done everything. Of course, first-hand experience can help - everyone sees the world a different way, and having wrapped a motorcycle around a tree firsthand is that much more perspective to draw on. In my opinion, though, WWYK has little to no jurisdiction over a writer. Otherwise, how could we manage even simple things like writing characters of another gender in 1st person? How could an author describe the feeling of being fatally wounded? And how could genres like historical and speculative fiction... um, exist?

What's your perspective? Do you think we should stick to what we've experienced firsthand? To what degree do you think this helps?

All the best,

Riley

P.S. Not talking about Writing What You Know as in researching stuff. I'm a huge believer in research. What with the internet and stuff, there's really no excuse, in my opinion. But that's a topic for another post. =]

P.P.S.: Speaking of research, Undercover YA #3 is in the research phase. Ask me questions about teenagers! RileyRedgate@gmail.com is waiting.

Undercover YA #2: Cool Cats

2011-06-03T04:52:00.000-07:00

First of all, happy Friday!

Second of all, a quick recap on what UNDERCOVER YA is:

I just turned seventeen the other week, and while I was chatting with some lovelies at AgentQuery Connect, the idea was raised that I milk the fact that I am the YA target audience. So, as a result, we have the Undercover YA Question Series.

You tell me what you want to know about young adults. Literally anything. Teen eating habits (oh dear)? Sure. The types of things one hears in a high school hallway (double oh dear)? Okay. The types of kids that actually read books? Mmhmm. College applications? ...I've sure as hell got you covered there, haha.

But it's not going to be just me answering. Here's the dealio:

1) Email me a question.
2) I ask anywhere from 5 to 10 of my friends to answer. (If they get tired of answering I'll just blackmail them or something :D)
3) I answer too.
4) I post the answers and a sort of statistical-analysis/summary-type thing, with my regular flair and panache.

More details: Intro!

That said, let's jump on #2:
------------------------------------------------------------------------

The question: "How do you deem "this adult is cool" or "that adult just doesn't get it?" Because in the not too distant past I remember liking some adults and thinking others were just out of touch. What makes the difference?"

The answers:

Friend #1 (girl): You know, it's weird. I was thinking about that yesterday. My sister's math teacher, I met her a couple weeks ago - she was a cool adult, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It's not necessarily relatability... but they don't ever talk down to you. Sense of humor, definitely.

Friend #2 (boy): I don't know. One that can relate to teens' problems, or listen well.

Friend #3 (girl): They have to be able to laugh at themselves, and have an ability to comprehend the humor of today's youth. Also, they need to have swag.

Friend #4 (boy): I suppose someone who treats you like an adult as well. Someone who makes you an equal.

Friend #5 (girl): Someone who can be friends with a student. Not like a creepy 'friend'. Like a buddy. Listens to good music. Even better if they have a beard and guitar. Definitely.

My answer:

People definitely weren't as receptive to this question as to the Twilight one. There was lots of "God, I don't actually know! Huh." - which I didn't count as an answer, haha.

My opinion? Well, it's a combination of things. But, in my opinion, first and foremost, the adult in question has to be a person, not an adult.

Wait! Stay with me! That looks wrong, but I refuse to edit it, because it's exactly what I mean. If the person insists on being 'an adult' before they're 'a person' with 'a personality' (yay 'unnecessary' 'quotes'!), they're inherently less interesting.

I mean, look at it this way: if I met a kid that loved playing Ke$ha music and wrote novels, we'd hit it off. And, similarly, if I met an adult that loved playing Ke$ha music and wrote novels... we'd be buds!

I think some teenagers and adults are inherently age-ist, like they expect the other group to hate them on instinct, or on principle. And, in my opinion, this is silly. Sure, there's a generation gap. That doesn't stop someone cool, chillaxed, and funny from being cool, chillaxed, and funny.

Let me give you a quick rundown of some adults in my life, the good, the bad, and the ugly (no, I don't mean literally), in that order. I'm not going to use my online friends, because that could be awk. Also, the 'Good' section would explode <3

THE GOOD

1) Mr. H:

He was my 8th grade social studies teacher - U.S. History, to be specific. He was funny. He knew his history inside and out. And he trusted us with a tremendous amount of responsibility when we took our epic field trip to Washington D.C. (which he fondly nicknamed the Northern Invasion). Treating teenagers like they're perfectly capable people is so endearing, and it engenders mutual respect. I was a whole lot more likely to follow all Mr. H's rules, because they weren't trite or condescending. They were just common-sense reminders. Also, the fact that he was such a brilliant history teacher made us look up to him.

Moral: Yay mutual respect.

2) Mrs. G:

I take voice from Mrs. G. She is a sharp cookie, and full of killer personality. There is so much more to her than just the fact that she's in her sixties. She's a brilliant actress, a rockin' singer, and she's hilarious. When I hang out with her, I think to myself, Dude, we should hang out more often. This is exactly how I feel when I hang out with my high school friends.

Moral: Yay for having personalities that click.

THE BAD

3) Mr. W:

Mr. W is an interesting case. I love him, but lots of people think he's lame. Reason? He tries too hard. He tries, oftentimes, to be one of the bros, but falls painfully short. Honestly, we find him funniest and like him best when he's just teaching us history, making history jokes and correcting our factual blips. An adult doesn't have to alienate his or her sense of adulthood in order to relate to teenagers. It's like a gimmick. "If I act like you, will you like me?" Not necessarily. But if you seem like a likable guy, you'll be cool regardless of how old you act.

Moral: Meh on thinking there's some secret way to appeal to teenagers. We're just people, dude.

4) Ms. H:

Ms. H is stuck in the past. You ask which adults are 'out of touch'? The ones that haven't updated along with the rest of the world, sadly. The age gap always seems insurmountable with Ms. H, which is depressing, because she's genuinely nice. You just can't really imagine spending more than a brief class period with her. What does she talk about when she's not teaching? you wonder. Does she just constantly reminisce and call it a day?

Moral: Meh on living in your own little world, if you really want to seem like you 'get it' to teenagers. Essentially, meh on having nothing in common, but it's not like we expect you to pander to us constantly.

THE UGLY

5) Coach B:

This guy was the reason I stopped playing soccer. (Shame, too, because I was pretty BALLIN' oh ha ha pun.) He had a daughter on the team, and he was so favoritist. He thought of us in relation to her, as in 'my daughter's teammates', and the thing about that was that every one of us became second-class citizens. Generalization hurts.

There's a coach (different guy) at my school now that insists he can tell the "good" kids from the kids who will "never get anywhere in life". Not in sports, mind you. Just in general. I asked him to prove it. He listed the kids that drank and went out on Friday nights as the ones who would never get anywhere. Insulting? Definitely.

A 'cool' adult would never talk about kids with such ridiculous blanket statements. A 'cool' adult would never treat an entire soccer team as my daughter, oh, and those other children that aren't mine. There's more to someone than meets the eye, and an adult who's willing to see the subsurface in each individual teenager shows that they are down-to-earth and respectful.

Moral: Boo on lumping us all together, whether in stereotypes or as an entire age group.

6) Mr. K:

One memorable day this fall, we walked into English class and took our seats. Said Mr. K, "I'm going to say something that you guys might find a little offensive."

We waited in tense anticipation.

"I don't think teenagers are human," he said.

We cackled. Little did we suspect our mirth would sour so quickly.

What followed was a speech filled with so much condescension it was painful. Snippets much like - "You've lived such short lives, but you never hesitate to discard the beautiful and intricate facets of life as if they're just not worth your time." "You act so emotionless because you're afraid to feel." "You haven't matured enough to -" and at THIS point, we're wanting to stab out our own eyes.

An adult can't possibly lose a teenage friend faster than by proposing that teenagers are immature and thoughtless (or basically any other teenage stereotype, like insensitive, loud, and obnoxious). Worst, though, is implying that the adult has inherent 'betterness' because said adult has lived more years on this planet. Look - in some cases, that might be true. Age might make someone sweeter. But hell if it can't sour them, too, and an old person is just as likely to be a total toolbag as a teenager.

Moral: ...just don't do this.

CONCLUSION:

To teenagers, a cool adult is just straight-up a cool person. Someone you'd get coffee with. Someone whose conversation you enjoy. Being funny helps - but then again, being funny helps when you're a teenager, too. If you want to befriend a teen, be yourself. We appreciate people who are themselves (especially since it's so hard to find them in high school). I love that my piano teacher is modest and bashful. I love that my voice teacher is spunky and witty and foulmouthed. I love that my theatre director is flamboyant and joyful. I love that my chemistry teacher is sarcastic and teasing. I love that my chorus conductor is bipolar and passionate. I can't think of a single adult I love that doesn't have a distinct foothold in my mind as a vibrant personality rather than just being older than I am.

(Oh, and adults totally get bonus points in my book for using modern slang. If an adult used the phrase 'epic fail' or 'f my life,' we would be instant best friends. This is probably just me, though, because I place way too much stock in the internet. XD)

Got a question for UNDERCOVER YA?

RileyRedgate@gmail.com <---- hit me up, bro.

All the best,

Riley

Undercover YA #1: Twhylight?

2011-05-30T04:45:00.000-07:00

First of all, happy Memorial Day!

Second of all, a quick recap on what UNDERCOVER YA is:

I just turned seventeen the other week, and while I was chatting with some lovelies at AgentQuery Connect, the idea was raised that I milk the fact that I am the YA target audience. So, as a result, we have the Undercover YA Question Series.

You tell me what you want to know about young adults. Literally anything. Teen eating habits (oh dear)? Sure. The types of things one hears in a high school hallway (double oh dear)? Okay. The types of kids that actually read books? Mmhmm. College applications? ...I've sure as hell got you covered there, haha.

But it's not going to be just me answering. Here's the dealio:

1) Email me a question.

2) I ask anywhere from 5 to 10 of my friends to answer. (If they get tired of answering I'll just blackmail them or something :D)

3) I answer too.

4) I post the answers and a sort of statistical-analysis/summary-type thing, with my regular flair and panache.

More details: Intro!

That said, let's get started with #1:

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Question: "Why Twilight? Of all the books, why was that one such a success?"

The Answers:

Friend #1 (girl): Because the story is kind of intoxicating--the first time you read it, you can't help but care about Bella's wreck of a life, and you're so absorbed in the story that the poor quality doesn't matter. It's the kind of love story that people crave - and it was marketed pretty dang well. :)

Friend #2 (girl): It was a concept that hadn't been written that way before. Pre-teens ate it up because of the cheesy romance, and every teenage girl can implant herself in Bella because she's a shell of a character.

Friend #3 (boy): People like sparkly perfect people? Lol jk. People just want the reassurance that love stories exist.

(fun fact: friend #3 is often unintentionally deep.)

Friend #4 (girl): Because vampires are sexy.

Friend #5 (boy): I think the way the teenie culture was, it was set for something like Twilight to come along. It was the right idea at the right time. The actual idea has a solid foundation, no matter the suck of the actual writing (see "bizarre glare," source: Alex Day). It also hit a group of people who wouldn't really be the ones to know bad writing when they see it, because, unfortunately, a lot of teen lit is exactly that - bad writing marketed to those who won't notice.

Friend #6 (girl): Because a lot of it is the classic definition of romantic.

Friend #7 (boy): I think we were on a general trend in fantastic elements becoming increasingly popular in the wake of HP and Eragon and everything like that, but, at the same time, people's depth level was getting lower. So they looked for something immediately gratifying and almost sexually so, and they found that in the vampire since it's not human, but it's anthropoid enough to be attractive.

Friend #8 (girl): Because Edward was hot, and sexy, but a gentleman.

Friend #9 (boy): I'm not really sure, but I read somewhere that not describing Bella extensively made it easier for readers to imagine themselves in the story...

Friend #10 (girl): Hmmm. Probably because everyone secretly wants to be loved in a way that is totally unrealistic but also totally wholehearted.

My answer:

This is an interesting question. When Twilight hit the market, I was in sixth grade. I saw it in my friends' hands in seventh grade. I was converted in eighth grade - I read Twilight and New Moon in one afternoon, and Eclipse the next day, and I was giddy with delight over it. Then I re-read the series later on in high school and was horrified. What?! I thought to myself. Why did I... what have I... what.

Here's the deal. Middle school sucks. It sucks hard. We're talking a group of people that consider a one-month relationship quite the accomplishment. And the thing about Twilight is that it's the very image of security. Both characters fall deeply and inexplicably, like pretty much everyone does when they're at the tender age of 12. (Including yours truly, and I know I'm not alone.) When you're middle-school infatuated - and it's stunning how clearly I remember this feeling - there are pretty much three stages.

1) You meet.

2) You think, wow, he's nice/cute/smart/funny/all-of-the-above.

3) YOU'RE SO IN LOVE, HOLY CRAP, YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED NEXT MONTH.

Twilight plays on this immediacy - the immediacy of pubescent emotion. The way Bella and Edward fall might not be justified, but who cares, first time around? They fall deep, period, the end. So you barrel onward.

Also, the fascination with physical sexuality is something that's budding in the Twilight-targeted audience, and in my opinion, that's one of the chief reasons it's so incredibly effective. I remember eating up every physical description of Edward, no matter how overdramatic, no matter how clichéd. This is the stage of life where people's hands brushing is A HUGE BIG DEAL. A naked chest feels risqué and exciting, and the very idea that someone would be attracted to you enough to watch you doing something as mundane as sleeping, for hours, is like the feeling of flying.

But for those who aren't particularly physically inclined? The series also made me feel so much. I remember thinking to myself, this is EXACTLY what I want with [insert crush's name here]. I want a promise that has zero chance of breaking. I want [insert crush's name here] to tell me he loves me every second of every day, for no other reason than that he'd like to make me happy. And me and a good friend (#8, actually) would have debates over who could have Edward, because, as she said, he was hot, and sexy, but a gentleman. And there was so little else about him that one could criticize.

Twilight's exceptionally popular in the emo/scene crowd. You know why? Self-esteem. Low self-esteem means high self-insertion. Losing yourself in others' lives completely so that you can escape your own, because hormone swings, when they happen, make the tiniest things feel like the worst events that have ever occurred. And when you have low self-worth - and I honestly think 90% of teenagers hate themselves just a little bit - there's nothing better than reading unconditional love. Even when that love is so utterly unconditional that it's unrealistic, or irrational, or verging on vapid at points. Because feelings can be like that when you're twelve (or hell, when you're not twelve), and the irrational ones can be the most powerful.

Of course, that's not to say that Twilight only appeals to those with low self-worth. *rolleyes* It's a genuinely fun read, and it can be for all types.

I'll say this, though - there's an astounding amount of contempt for Twilight in high school. Funny thing is that most of these people loved the series first time through. It's because people get cynical, and, to an extent, mean. And this happens as we hack our way through the high school jungle, realizing that other people aren't perfect, and (more prevalently) that we're not, either. In my opinion, that's largely why Twilight stops working. We start detaching from a character that's perfect, because with increased self-awareness, we search for reality in literature rather than an ideal. Ask 8th graders if they like Twilight. Now ask 12th graders if they like Twilight. The dichotomy is astounding.

Welp, that's my take! Hope this cleared up the adolescent perspective somewhat.

Got a question for UNDERCOVER YA? RileyRedgate@gmail.com <---- hit me up, bro.

All the best,

Riley

Undercover YA - an offer

2011-05-28T12:15:00.000-07:00

Hey, everyone!

So, here's the deal. You tell me what you want to know about young adults. Literally anything. Teen eating habits (oh dear)? Sure. The types of things one hears in a high school hallway (double oh dear)? Okay. The types of kids that actually read books? Mmhmm. College applications? ...I've sure as hell got you covered there, haha.

But it's not going to be just me answering. Here's the dealio:

1) Email me a question.

2) I ask anywhere from 5 to 10 of my friends to answer. (If they get tired of answering I'll just blackmail them or something :D)

3) I answer too.

4) I post the answers and a sort of statistical-analysis/summary-type thing, with my regular flair and panache.

This is an open invitation. You don't have to follow me, or follow my twitter (*cough* er... that wasn't a shameless plug...), to ask me a question. Just email me what you want to know at:

RileyRedgate@gmail.com

Subject line: Undercover YA

(Or, if you prefer shorthand, you can tweet me your question.)

Any topic. We'll see how things go. I'll answer questions as I get them - and if I find myself unable to answer a question, I'll email/tweet you back with regrets. For instance, I don't know anyone in a gang, so I couldn't really answer questions about life as a teen gang member (though there is an excess of gang graffiti in the sketchy tunnel near my high school...).

Oh, actually, that reminds me - I should include a little disclaimer.

First off, know that I'll try to ask as many different types of kids as possible to get maximum perspective. I know a broad range of kids of different races, socioeconomic backgrounds, personalities, etc., since I'm kind of a clique-drifter.

But here are a couple of general things about where your answers are coming from:

-I'm from a medium-sized city in North Carolina.

-My high school has roughly 1800 kids (as do most of the high schools in the area).

-We don't have much of an urban center. We have eternal suburbs, lots of rural, and a nuclear, office-centric downtown. (Here's our skyline -------->)
-So, like, in other words, kids from around here probably can't speak for people who live in New York City or other places that matter. =P

Thrilling disclaimer aside, I do hope you'll pick my brain. (Brain: "Pick me! Pick me!") Consistency with real teenagers is, in my humble opinion, one of the most important things an author can have. It just ruins it for me when teenage MCs do things that are just totally unrealistic. Same goes for high schools that have, like... I don't even know. Strange classes that don't really exist. Or beautiful facilities. Or a friendly administration. (Ack just kidding!) And, similarly, when an author obviously knows what they're doing in the teen department, it gives me such a satisfied, comfortable feeling with their writing.

*puts on detective hat* All right, I'm officially ready to go digging for you guys. Ask me your questions, and I'll tell you no lies! (yeah, no, that's not the actual saying, but just go with it. XD)

All the best,

Riley

Writing is NOT Like a Box of Chocolates: a Meme

2011-05-25T21:21:00.000-07:00

The wonderful AM Supinger tagged me in this early-summer Memefest. And she was tagged by the equally-wonderful Michelle Simkins. Keep the chain going!

Forrest Gump’s momma always said, “Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” I suppose the same could be said of writing, but . . . since we’re writers, we feel compelled to come up with our own silly comparisons.

Photo Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Hence the creation of the Box of Chocolates Writing Meme–in which you may compare writing to anything but a box of chocolates.

How does it work? Take the phrase “Writing is like . . .” and finish it. Post it on your blog. Tag three others to do the same. That is all. See how easy that is?

So, my interpretation?

Writing is like a patchwork quilt. Three reasons for you to gnaw on:

1) Both keep you warm and cozy at night. Nothing's better than curling up with chocolate and a good dose of inspiration.

2) Both have the sentimental value of that which is handcrafted. They take immense time and effort, and each has the personal flavor of its individual creator.

3) is the primary reason - a patchwork quilt, like writing, is compiled from many different sources. We can write from personal experience, from the feelings we have or from the people we meet. Or, alternatively, we can write things we've seen only in our mind's eye, like flying unicorn robots or whatever. We write with a unique flavor that is a hodgepodge of all the influences in our life, patching together everything we've ever heard, read, or written in the past.

Our style of quilting may evolve. We may make many different quilts in our lifetime, learning more about quilting as we go on. Some quilts may suck; this is true. It's more likely that the earlier quilts will suck harder; this is also true. But these suck-ass quilts will always hold a special place in our hearts. They bear the burden of suckage, so that the later quilts don't have to. The quilts with so many ~~subplots, i mean uh,~~ patterns they unfold into an intricate, chaotic swirl of cloth. The quilts that are both effective and beautiful, stitched with perfect technical knowledge as well as raw passion.

And as we acquire different types of cloth (different types of life experience), we can widen the variety of our quilts. They don't have to be cheap, 99-cent-felt, excuses-for-quilts anymore. As time goes on, we learn to use velvet, and chiffon, and denim, and that squashy quilty material that all quilts have but I don't know the name of. We'll learn to structure the quilts more efficiently and cleanly. And maybe we will make that one quilt we all strive for, that perfect quilt that is just right to cuddle up with on a winter's afternoon when we're feeling emotional. ~~yeah lol that's the quilt we can pitch to an agent~~

So, that's mine. Check these sweet tag-ees, yeah?

1) Peter Burton at A Storyteller's Musings, whose opinion and perspective I respect beyond words. =]

2) Becky at GenerationWhyNot, over the pond. She is a bloggeress extraordinaire!

3) Dawn G. Sparrow at Write Away, blogger who's finding her wings! AW YEAH, PUN. GET OWNED. *fistpump*

*cough* Yep! Be free, meme! I release you upon the world.

All the best,
Riley

Confessions of a Grammar Nazi

2011-05-25T16:50:00.000-07:00

I love grammar! I find it fascinating, and I always have. My friends label me a Grammar Nazi. BUT! I fully appreciate breaking the rules of grammar to create a certain style. In fact, I'm a huge fan of grammar manipulation to reach a goal.

But here's the deal. Like with everything else, you HAVE to know the rules before you break them. There's this sense of trust that an author must create in the reader; the reader has to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the author knows what she's/he's doing. Then, when the reader is fully convinced of the author's command of language - and only then - rules can be bent and broken and trampled on.

It irks me to no end when people take grammar lightly. A piece with completely invariable sentence structure won't be enjoyable to read. A piece with semi-colons spilling out the sides doesn't impress anyone, especially when said semi-colons are misused. Pieces where - God forbid - every 'your' is replaced with 'you're'? They make me want to stab my eyes out. Under no circumstance is that necessary.

Honestly, I don't care if you fragment your sentences to kingdom come. I don't care if you start sentences with 'so,' 'and,' or 'but.' I don't care if you abbreviate, use colloquialisms, and employ so-called dialect spellings. These are stylistic choices, and they don't remove from a sense of mastery.

But please respect the original. Every time you take liberties with grammar, please appreciate that you're showing skill by breaking the rules, not disregarding them entirely. Rules were made to be broken, not ignored.

For those who are grammar-impaired, here's a fun exercise:

1) Record a real-life conversation.

2) Transcribe it exactly as it was spoken.

3) Take this conversation and correct its grammar until, by traditional standards, it is perfectly correct (because, odds are, it will start out colloquial).

4) Rewrite this correct version with new bad grammar.

5) Now compare the new-bad-grammar version to the as-it-was-spoken version.

Hopefully, you should see the clear dichotomy between...

the colloquial: 'I'm talkin' with my bro. Hangin' out. And I ain't botherin' with good grammar, yo.'

and the just-plain-wrong: 'I'm speaking with my brother; hanging out and I don't bothering with well grammar... yo.'

Spelling is a whole different issue. In my humble opinion, misspellings are not okay at any point in time, except if it's on purpose, to illustrate dialect. Seriously. Spelling 'definitely' as 'definately'? I WILL SMITE YOU! Or, if I don't, SOMEBODY ELSE WILL! ~~oh oops the rapture's already over~~

On that happy note, here's a ridiculous grammar video!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c3y0CD2CoCs

All the best,

Riley

Oomph

2011-05-18T22:02:00.000-07:00

'Oomph' is that thing that's frequently called out as being missing. As in, "I just didn't feel that oomph in this query." Or, "These last three pages don't have the oomph of the first eight." Or, "Do you think you could phrase that with a little more oomph?"

Well. First of all, 'oomph' is a freakin' hysterical word. I just said it out loud a bunch of times and realized this to be true. Good to know, now that I've named a blog post after it and all... (fun fact: the humor I find in this collection of phonemes could be attributed to the time of night. namely, it's late.)

Second of all, you might not actually be familiar with the term 'oomph'. I toss it around, but there are lots of other vague terms that you could exchange for it. I bet you've heard this one: 'hook'. "It just didn't hook me enough." How about 'sparkle'? "I just wish the pages had sparkled a little more."

Well, thanks, but unless I sprinkle my letter with gold dust (and agents say not to do that when you send a query, right? ...right?), literal 'sparkle' is going to be pretty tough to find. So, how to decipher this lovely flowery term? This term that, if ever used in a campaign speech, people would point to as the poster child for the phrase 'glittering generality'?

Well, gentle reader (fun fact: people who use that phrase are fancy), here's my take:

It's NOT about how well you've edited what you've written.

It's NOT about how many adverbs, adjectives, and passive constructions you've deleted.

It's NOT about how much you've 'polished'.

Honestly, in my humble opinion, a piece with 'oomph' is going to have it from the very beginning. You're going to read the character's words and they're going to jump off the page. You're going to slide seamlessly from event to event like butter on a skillet. You're going to want to read more.

That's my simple interpretation. 'Oomph' is the reader's desire to read more. Sure, writing with flawless technique is lovely. But the guttural grip that a page has on the eyes? That's oomph, and anything without it should be under serious consideration for cutting.

So, here's my customary too-long explanation for my conjecture:

Is there something that everyone in the world finds boring? No (not even math!). But there are things that only a few people find interesting, and writers are often like that about their characters. I care intensely about what my characters are doing at any given point in time. All my characters. All the time, even when they're being boring off-screen.

But I'm aware there's NO way I'll interest a reader with... I don't know, Landon's eating habits or something. Why, you ask (okay, pretend you're asking)? Landon's eating habits are normal. Totally average. Talking about them might be technically perfect, and I could probably do that for a page or ten. But honey, ain't no way that's gonna have 'sparkle' or 'shine', or 'hook the reader'. No matter how well you do it, there's things you just can't save. So, instead of refining those 10 (nonexistent I swear) pages about Landon's eating habits, I should just cut them.

I was reading an old query of mine the other day. It was a fine query. I mean, sort of. It was okay, you know? It was there. It did what it needed to. But my current version is a result of scrapping the old completely and starting anew. I could have edited what I had to kingdom come, but it wasn't the right stuff to focus on in the first place.

Here's what it boils down to: write what's important. Cut what's not, no matter how much you love it, no matter how many times you've rephrased it. Maybe you just plain don't need it. And what's left behind will be the sparkly stuff. The stuff with the hook dangling on the edge of it, waiting to jerk your reader along to the next line. It's not how you write it - it's what you write. And if what you write is truly awesome, odds are that how you write it will be indistinguishable under layer after layer of fresh-picked oomph.

Here's hoping you have lots of it. =]

All the best,

Riley

Blawards

2011-05-15T17:55:00.001-07:00

Blog + Awards = Blawards!

Okay, perhaps it's not the catchiest portmanteau the world has ever known. But I digress!

The first is long overdue - because I'm silly, I forgot to mention the award that the wonderful Joyce Alton over at Yesternight's Voyage gave me way way back many centuries ago. And I was reminded of this by receiving another from the fabulous Stephanie Diaz, whose blog is here.

Yay, blaward!

Seven things about myself to accept? Eek. I tried this a while back with Blog Tag Friday... here goes 7 Things, Round II.

1) I enjoy overlarge t-shirts.

2) I name each of my electronics after a different star sign. My netbook is named Pisces; my phone is Libra; my dead iPod is called Scorpio; my now-rendered-useless iPod dock (sigh) is Capricorn... you get the picture.

3) I LOVE rotary-dial telephones.

4) My first alcoholic beverage was champagne. Classy cat, that's me.

5) Half my pedicure remains. (Erk! That was a little TMI, perhaps. XD)

6) I just purchased my first pair of rainboots.

7) I started writing with fantasy (when I was 9). Now that I've worked my way through contemporary, sci-fi, dystopia, war, and romance, I'm back to fantasy! Well, urban fantasy. And it feels like coming home. =3

Now, time to tag 5 new blogging buddies!

Inner Owlet, by AM Supinger, for your almost-daily dose of surrealist microfiction.

Tamara Paulin, an MG & YA writer with 1) an awesome blog design and 2) awesome blog posts.

Tighty Writie, by Kellie M., a blog that is quickly getting off the ground (and has a killer name to boot).

A Storyteller's Musings - the wonderful and hilarious Peter Burton, who is... a storyteller... muses...

And, just for the heck of it, Help Write Now, a writers' charity auction to help rebuild homes in the wake of the tornadoes. Agent critiques, author critiques, ARCs, and more.

Go, you versatile bloggers you!

All the best,

Riley

Four Things To Not Talk About

2011-05-11T20:12:00.000-07:00

There are some things that are better left inferred. Here's a quick list - 4 things I would avoid describing. I'm thinking YA here (as per usual).

1) Food.

I don't particularly care when/what characters are eating. Don't waste the time unless:

a. It's central to the plot. Example: in The Lightning Thief, a detour for a burger leads to disastrous events. So does a stop by a sketch-as-balls diner.

b. It's worldbuilding, and it's brief. Example: in the opening feast in Harry Potter, the fantastical feel of Harry suddenly having a plethora of food adds to the contrast between his crap home life and Hogwarts.

c. It's a character moment. Example: in Lord of the Rings, Denethor eats and eats while his son may be dying. Definitely speaks to his detached personality.

Talking about food gains bonus suck points if the only place characters ever interact is over food. Pretty much any action you can imagine is more exciting than eating.

2) Money.

Talking about financial situations makes me feel like I'm reading an economics textbook or something. Unless a money situation generates conflict, there's no need to dwell on specific prices, figures, or any of that jazz. (E.g., "I paid $5.99 for my lunch and left." I don't care about the price, yo. Just "I paid for my lunch and left" would be dandy.)

3) Teeth.

I feel like there's no way to talk about a character's teeth without making it cliche. Teeth very neatly divide into stereotypes. You know the deal; good teeth = good person; bad teeth = bad person (or person who is supposed to repulse the reader). Oh, and perfectly straight, white teeth = perfectly straight, white person (er just playin' ~~sort of~~).

Exceptions are if, of course, the character has teeth that relate to the plot. Ex. - pointy teeth = um, vampire.

Also, a stereotype breaker - like a nice guy that has rotting/blackened/generally-disgusting teeth - would be interesting, but I don't know if it would ever be particularly necessary to describe said person's dental hygiene.

(For me, the opposite of this one is fingernails! I love reading details about nails - I feel like there's a lot of potential for indirect characterization in how people take care of them.)

4) The smell of someone's breath.

Similar to teeth. Good breath is, first of all, sort of weird and unrealistic, and second of all, obviously for 'good' characters. Stank breath = stank person. And breath that smells like alcohol... well, you know. But alcoholism isn't really what I'm talking about. That's a character choice. I'm talking about unnecessarily sticking in, "His breath smelled like roses and unicorns," or whatever it may smell like.

Dude, what do unicorns smell like? Probably pretty bad, actually...

All the best,

Riley

When and Why it's Awkward

2011-05-05T18:55:00.000-07:00

So. Sex.

In psychology, when we were talking about sexual stages, our teacher got really awkward and stammered her way around the word 'orgasm'. Nice job, Mrs. H. Giggling ensued. Awkward silence followed.

This post is ironic, because I'm an intensely awkward person by nature and I hate writing sexual encounters. Luckily, my own awkwardness has given me a hypersensitive awkwardness radar (I call it my AwkDar, and how's that for an awkward word?). So I can usually tell when something is even mildly squirm-worthy.

How to avoid awkwardness in YA sex writing?

Step I: First things first: respect us teenagers.

Assume we know absolutely everything about sex. Because . . . well, uh, odds are we do. Yup. Your audience knows allllll about it.

You know, it's funny - teenage humor is notorious for being sexual. Yet people still seem to want to . . . I don't know, preserve our innocence, or something? PAH HAH HAAA, is what I have to say to that. Yep, that's right. Pah hah haaa. We were raised on the internet. We've visited Urban Dictionary. We've Googled the good, the bad, and the ugly with satisfying anonymity. Go ahead and hit us with your best shot (fire awaa-aa-ayyy).

Step II: Let your characters decide how far they want to go.

I recently became obsessed with Veronica Roth's brilliant debut Divergent. The issue of sexual involvement was brilliantly woven into the characters' personalities. How they acted physically, and their thoughts/feelings on the issue, seemed perfect and natural for them. Better - it was relatable! I was like, dang, a real teenager would act and feel like this in this situation. Staying true to the character is vital. Disconnecting from who they are for the tiniest second will make the writing stilted.

Yeah, people act weird around sex, but they shouldn't just randomly change personality because of it. It'd be disconcerting for a character to suddenly transform into a sex-craved maniac or something when they've been chill without exception before.

Step III: Let your characters decide how far they want to go onscreen.

It's not just how far they actually go. It's where the cutoff point is. It's where the narrator stops narrating and starts letting the reader assume.

Yeah, Twilight, I'm looking at you. Bella has no problem narrating her deep lust (at length...) from the very moment she and Edward touch for the first time. And suddenly it's like, super-fast cutoff on honeymoon night? What's the deal, bro? Didn't do it for me.

It's not like I was expecting erotica or something. But there are ways to go all the way through and do it with taste. I guess it all comes to what's natural for your characters. Are they honest enough that they'd describe the entire thing in gritty detail? Are they bashful and private? Something to think about, that's for sure.

Step IV: Preach not.

Don't ever sound like you're teaching a health class. I beg you. We don't want to read a book and be like, "Oh, God, blatant author-loves-abstinence-soapbox-insert." That'd make me snap it shut and roll my eyes.

----

I was going to write more, but I can't think of anything else that's too important, advice-wise. What follows is purely personal preference.

i) One thing I've noticed: it seems good to avoid talking directly about boobs in female first person. It's just . . . it's just awkward. There's seriously no adequate word to use. 'Breasts' is way too formal for a teen narrator. 'Boobs' sounds goofy, especially if it's an intense scene. 'Tits' is just no. Seems like an easy way out is using the words 'curve' and 'chest' in creative ways, and that's still sort of meh.

ii) Let me go ahead and say that I see no reason ever to write about a woman's . . .er, monthly cycle unless it's VITAL TO THE PLOT. No one wants to talk about that shiz.

iii) I like it real, bro. Let's talk straight for a sec. As technically appealing as a perfect male physique may be, the description of one doesn't make your character feel like a person to me. But talking about the texture and feel of skin, about the clumsy placement of hands, about the quick whispered words that are practically incomprehensible, about the sight of scars and shifting muscle? That's visceral and real and makes me feel like I'm experiencing something genuine. I like to think, this could really happen with two real people. And that's something we sexually-inexperienced kids appreciate. It doesn't have to be perfect - it has to be honest.

Mk, done. Good luck with the SEX!

(lololol she said sex)

All the best,

Riley

Conception

2011-05-04T09:42:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not pregnant! Who said that?! *shifty eyes*

So, I was thinking about how ideas come to my mind yesterday, after reading Neil Gaiman's awesome idea post. (Yee, love him so much.) And sure, as he says, the Idea-making is elementary in comparison to the actual Writing Of The Novel, but I'm a high-concept kind of gal, so I thought I'd share the average thought process that leads to an idea. Just my process. I assume it differs from writer to writer.

The following is being conceived on the spot.

Step One: Something happens in real life to me that is just slightly out of the ordinary.

"Dammit," I say as I bump my laptop screen on the door.

Step Two: I wonder at this action and think, Dang, it'd be funny/great/wild/sucktastic if...

Dang, it'd be sucktastic if I had snapped my laptop screen off after bumping it on the door.

Step Three: I think, Well, it would be way more funny/great/wild/sucktastic if I were...

Well, it would be way more sucktastic if I depended on this laptop for, like, food, or breathing or something.

Step Four: I theorize about a world in which this could happen to someone.

Honestly, there are lots of people on life support. It's plausible. But a novel about someone hooked into a machine day in and day out...? Well, that's not exactly novel (oh ha see what I did there). BUT what if my thoughts were all transcribed by this laptop? What if my entire being was a series of code in a constantly-changing document?

Hmm... a little too similar to the Matrix. But it's a start.

Hey, wait. What if it were a little more simple - what if the human body was just dependent on code for correct functioning?

Step Five: The Moment.

And what if someone could hack into that code? OH SNAP BRO.

Step Six: The Refining of the fledgling idea - first, altering myself into someone else. Second, altering circumstances and the world.

All right - there's probably someone infinitely more interesting than me to tell this story. What if I were a guy, not a girl? A rebellious guy? Or no, wait. What if I were an ordinary guy who happened to take a wrong turn and meet a rebellious guy... and get sucked into an underground ring of hackers?

Hmm, wait - it's impractical for people just to carry around computers or whatever. They should just have the things built into their backs. Which would make it difficult to alter your own data, which is totally practical. Because the computers need not to be tampered with, so they can do their job right. Which is... which could be to keep people's hearts going for exactly one hundred years of life. No more, no less. Yes.

Actually, computers in people's bodies could have all sorts of useful functions. Regulating heartbeat, blood pressure, sugar levels, etc., all by a series of receptors on the inside of the body or something. (This reminds me a lot of those automatic things that that diabetic girl on my soccer team had!) In fact, they could even regulate things like neurotransmitters, by releasing appropriate amounts of drugs constantly.

Whoa, dude. Brain control.

So, if people are entirely dependent on drugs, a group of deserters would be totally screwed, since they couldn't get the drugs. Unless they used natural methods to wean themselves off the neurotransmitter-regulation. Like, there's that weird LSD-like plant that caused the Salem Witch crazies, what's that called? That must be a dopamine releaser or something. There's probably natural alternatives to all drugs, to be honest.

So, the Hackers can train their bodies back to being under their control. And they'll need their minds back, too, since the computer records thought (and also controls people's thoughts, though that won't be common knowledge or anything). Self-control is just a preliminary thing, though... the Hackers need to get to the people who control everything. While evading the police.

Aaaand then, before I know it, I sound like I'm speaking a different language. Success? Success.

Now onto the character names! That's the fun part. And then... then the plot. *gulp*

Usually I get a pretty good idea of what the first scene will be, too. What immediately comes to mind for this story?

MC is walking home. MC is the sole witness to a violent attack - a mugger smashes someone else's backscreen with a sledgehammer. MC tries to run. But he fails. He is dragged away into the Hackers' realm...

But this doesn't have to be the first scene, I guess. It'd be nice to establish some stakes. Some normalcy. Since this is looking like a dystopia, there should probably be a utopian feel to the place that is perpetuated only by people's inability to think for themselves.

Don't know if this idea is viable, but it can go in the notepad document anyway. I'll let it stew awhile. Maybe come back to it. Maybe combine it with another fledgling. And hopefully, someday, it'll take wings. =]

Here's hoping yours do too, however they come about!

All the best,

Riley

How Query Letters are like College Recruitment Emails

2011-04-30T13:56:00.000-07:00

As I'm a junior, my email is INFESTED with emails from colleges. I was yawning and perusing ~~and deleting~~ one of them today when it struck me how identical to query letters these things are. Only in this analogy, I'm the agent! *evil grin*

Here are a quick dozen reasons why recruitment emails are EXACTLY the same as queries:

1) When we send a query, we're inviting the agent to read our work. But even if they like the query and request material, they're not guaranteed to like the work. Similarly, I'm not guaranteed to like or apply to a certain place, but a recruitment email is a college's good shot to interest me. Honestly, the college's best bet is just to be a good college. A good query means nothing if the ms isn't up to scratch.

2) The email has all of eight seconds to grip my attention and keep it. The good ol' query hook is exactly the same. A college isn't going to win any points by starting with, "The University of Underwater Basket-Weaving is a school with a caring staff, a diverse student body, and (insert obscenely large number here) different majors." Seriously? THAT'S EVERY COLLEGE. It reads like: "TITLE HERE is a story of a boy learning about himself as he traverses the difficult paths of life - love, self-doubt, and friendship." At the end of the day, I don't know a thing about the University of Underwater Basket-Weaving, and I don't know a thing about TITLE HERE. Hook fail, the end.

3) If they misspell my name, they're screwed.

4) Hopefully, the standard-format (semi-personalized letter from dean of admissions) emails will be funny and engaging, and I can feel like I'm listening to a real person when I read the dean's words. Voice! But a rule-breaker is just as effective. For example, Macalester sent me an email that was just a picture of a partially-peeled orange and the world hidden beneath the rest of the peel. AWESOME. It tells me that they COULD do a cookie-cutter email but choose to ignore the norm in favor of awesomeness. In a query, rule-breaking shows that the writer has enough command of the query process to break the rules and get away with it.

5) I know what I want in a college, and I told the PSAT bubble form I'm interested in theatre and writing. If they don't mention the arts in the email, I frown a bit to myself, wonder why they're even emailing me, and press delete. The agents we query have to be looking for what we're writing! Otherwise, why are we even trying? Look, CalTech, I'm sorry, but I'm just not looking for a college that has the word 'Technology' in the name. And I'm sure agents that represent solely high-concept YA are wondering why they're receiving queries for books called A MOONLIGHT SEDUCTION.

6) The more vague these emails are, the less interested I am. Please tell me something unique about you. One cool college email mentioned this:

Here are some of the projects our current students are involved with:

Finding better treatments for cancer, Alzheimer’s and diabetes.
Searching for ways to provide electricity for schools in rural areas of Africa.
Developing prosthetics for amputees in the developing world.

Cool beans. And it gives me a real idea of the unique activity going on in the college. In queries, by the time the query is over, the agent should know what's happening in the story. The UNIQUE stuff, so that it can stand out from the crowd.

7) Title. A title rarely hurts (unless it's REALLY terrible), but a zinger helps. One email was just titled 'GO'. Very cool and different from all the ones that say 'Your future at [insert university here]!'.

8) My computer/browser/something-about-this-machine doesn't support certain types of picture formats, etc., so when I open an email that's filled with little 'broken-picture' or 404 icons, it just makes everything look very sad and pathetic. You never know - the agent could have the exact same computer as me! Pictures and excessive formatting, for that reason, are a terrible idea.

9) The established colleges don't have to recruit. Sad but true. Harvard, Princeton, and Yale haven't sent crap to me. If, for some reason, J.K. Rowling found herself querying, she could pick the exact agent she wanted. Harvard, Princeton, and Yale WILL get the applicants they want. The lesser colleges have to recruit and be good at it - and we have to query and be good at it; no use complaining. Everyone was a debut author once.

10) I have to discriminate. I might like the idea of a certain college, but my parents might not like something about it (ooh, extended metaphor! parents = fellow agencymates). Or I might like parts of it, but one thing is a dealbreaker (super-strict core curriculum is that for me). I hope this college understands why I'm not applying there, but I can't see myself spending a large amount of time investing myself in this place if it's not PERFECT for me. Exactly the same for an agent and the work they choose to rep.

11) If the letter has bad spelling or grammar, I'm done. Sorry, but I don't want to learn from people who can't spell and/or use grammar properly! I take this letter as a reflection on the college, and similarly, agents take our queries as a reflection on our style, talent, and entire ms. Make sure the query and the ms match... for better or for worse.

12) There is no college equivalent for the phrase 'fictional novel'... but DEAR GOD PLEASE JUST DON'T DO IT mk

So I guess it just boils down to specificity, being right for the agent, smooth and enjoyable reading... and some common sense. Not too hard, right?

...right? o_O

All the best,

Riley