All The Way YA

Agentless Again, and Happy

never a failureSuccess. Whenever writers hear this word, we all have a similar vision pop into our heads.

The most popular one is our book printed and bound inside a bright, shiny cover.  A close second is signing a publishing contract or getting an agent call. There are others we all conjure, like the first book signing, or typing the elusive “THE END” on the last page of a manuscript.

At the beginning of last year, I considered myself successful.

Well, I was on my way to success. I had two completed manuscripts, one fantastic WIP, and was signed with an agent who loved my book as much as I did. Things looked good.

This year, I have one manuscript I consider “finished”, two WIPs, and I’m agentless.

And guys, I’m happy about it. It may look like I’m further behind in my writing career this year, but only on paper. Hopefully, by sharing my story, other writers can learn how to find the right agent fit.

The Beginning

When my agent first approached me, I was overwhelmed.  I had agents requesting full revisions, a few who showed genuine interest, and two small press publishing offers. I didn’t know what to do. When my agent, let’s call him Mike, gave me a call, he didn’t ask for revisions. He said we’d work through things together, and he’d teach me everything he could. That sold me.

We dove into the synopsis and cover letter. He guided me, taught me how to pitch and tighten. We sent off an exclusive submission, and though I was anxious to send book packages to every house that might be a good fit, I felt good about my career’s direction.

The End

2017 was rough. I think every writer has a ‘make or break’ moment that tests how much they really want to be an author, and 2017 was my test. My husband and I both lost parents. We sold our first home and moved into a fixer-upper, and my  youngest son was diagnosed with autism. In between all of this, I realized my second novel wasn’t ready to shop, so I had to have a tough conversation with Mike. I didn’t have the time or emotional energy to make the changes I wanted to novel #2. I dove into a new WIP instead, which left me with only one novel to send out to the world.

But there was another reason I wasn’t ready to send Mike my second book baby.

We’d been working together for a while, and he wasn’t submitting as often as other agents in the YA industry. I was holding back because I was beginning to suspect Mike my not be the right agent for my genre. His other clients all wrote adult fiction. I needed someone who specialized in fantasy, with the right connections and past sales in YA.

At the end of 2017, he got a job offer that was going to take up a lot of his time. I was already concerned by the lack of submissions sent out, a total of only three, so as soon as I heard his news I knew it was time to have a conversation. We were both on the same page, parted on great terms, and I still consider him a friend. I know he feels the same. We had a happy ending. I was lucky.

Lessons Learned

How to write a Synopsis, Query, and Cover Letter

THIS IS EVERYTHING. Mike helped me fix, and boy do I mean fix, my synopsis and pitch. These two must-have documents are a challenge for many writers. I was horrible at both.

How do you boil down a 90,000-word novel into three pages? Ask an agent, they know how.

I’m still no expert, but I’m much better at this skill than I was before Mike and I worked together. Notice I said skill. Synopses and queries are an art. They’re required by almost everyone in the industry. Become a pro at them as soon as you can.

It’s okay to slow down

As soon as new writers finish their first book, they want to start submitting. But there’s a reason most novelists don’t sell their first book, or second, or even third. The average is the fourth.

Don’t be so anxious to send off everything. Experience is a great teacher, and practice perfects craft.

Be sure your first novel is what you want as a debut, authors only get one, and it can define a career.  I’m happy I didn’t sell my first novel as it was.  I’m happy only three imprints read it. I’ve gone back and revamped it, cut characters, deleted scenes, and it’s so much stronger. I am learning to see my own mistakes, and I give Mike credit in helping me hone that ability.

A good agent may not be the right agent

There are so many warnings to do research on agents. I thought I’d done my due diligence. My agent had worked in publishing for over 30 years. He wasn’t a full time agent, he was an editor first, but he had sold a successful TV show and bestsellers. He loved my work and was passionate about it in a way the other agents who were asking for fulls, phone calls and revisions hadn’t been.

I still consider him a good agent. But he wasn’t right for me.

He’d been successful, but not in my genre. He’d never worked with fantasy or young adult, which is what I write.  His contacts weren’t with YA imprints , and though his editing skills were top notch, they didn’t always fit with a YA voice. In his defense, he never hid that shortcoming. He was honest about it but assured me he wanted to give it a try.  I don’t regret letting him try, but in the future, I will only sign with an agent who specializes in the same type of novels I produce.

Onward and Upward

This was my agent’s mantra. He taught me to believe in myself. He also taught me to self-edit and cut.

Talent only gets you so far. Everyone needs to work to be better.

If this lesson was all I got from my experience, it still would’ve been worth it.

The final takeaway

My time with an agent taught me so much. Mike made me a better writer and carried me through a rough year. I understand the business so much more than I did.

I’m almost ready to start again. This time, I have a plan. I’m making a list of agents who requested my novel in the past, and focusing on finishing my other two books. After they are complete, I’ll hit the query trenches again, better armed, with three novels ready to go. When I make it, I want to be ready. I’m willing to take my time. Practice is important, it builds experience, which includes failures.

Remember this book?

caraval

Stephanie Garber and her debut novel, Caraval, is one of the big success stories of #Pitchwars. Every YA writer wants what she has, but it’s so easy to overlook how she got there. Caraval was her fifth book. She worked hard,  she learned, and she finally succeeded.

There are so many others. The Hate You Give wasn’t Angie Thomas‘ first novel. Tahereh Mafi wrote five novels before her big breakout, Shatter Me. FIVE. What if she had stopped at four? Pick an author, and you’ll find rejection at some point in their journey. This industry is hard. There’s no other way to put it.  You’ve got be tough, and that’s not going to change. Keep writing through the failures. Embrace them, each one will teach you something. Write until you make it!

Until I make it, you can find me in front of my computer, typing away.

312185_2077885938c24faca78ead0529a48c82-mv2Jessica Grace Kelley is an accountant by day and writer by night. She greatly prefers her night job. She’s an author and poet, and her young adult novels have received over a dozen awards and contest wins, including the Daphne du Maurier, the YA Authors.Me contest, and the Emma Merritt. Jessica holds a BA in Finance and Accounting. When she isn’t buried in books she spends her time writing music and co-teaching a teen writing class. Sometimes she tries to be a painter, but the product of her efforts proves it’s all in her head.

 

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The D-Bomb

For LaurelI’ve been around the block a time or twenty. That’s not copping to a specific age, but simply an assertion of life experience beyond the age of my YA readers. Way beyond. Think different galaxies. I am a post-middle aged Caucasian woman with centrist eyes that scan all sides of everything.

In this era of diversity—the dreaded D-Bomb—life is tough for writers like me. It’s considered beyond poor form to write outside one’s ethnic, religious, preferential, societal, or experiential boundaries. So poor, in fact, that agents and editors alike scan my white-bread name and immediately reject anything I find the least bit interesting to explore. Not sour grapes. Reality.

Does this confine my endeavors to subjects that are familiar to me? Should I be writing picture books about chickens with chin hairs? Bunnies with bunions? Cows with crows’ feet? My only real experience with newer trends is my Shih Tzu, Mabel, who is species binary. Once a year, when dog licenses are renewed, she feels like a cat to avoid registering. That’s about as diverse as I am. On paper.

But few write on paper anymore. It’s a virtual world out there. And as society embraces differences, I have an issue with being told one must be of a certain something to write about it. So let’s look at what it means—to me—to embrace diversity in writing.

Because I propose that getting timely messages into the hands of readers is vastly more significant than perseverating on who is writing them.

Writers of diverse backgrounds are producing an excellent body of work that opens the window to worlds with which readers may be unfamiliar. A great writer with experience in any given area trumps all else, and there are many, many amazing people across every imaginable spectrum putting out books. I hope there will be more. No one has the same intimate knowledge as one who has been part of a particular issue or group.

But does that mean that others can’t, under any circumstance, have the sensitivity to write diverse characters and situations?

An author has the responsibility to research whatever subject is being tackled no matter what the basis.

Interests can be diverse, even if one is not a personal representative of said group. Once written, it is incumbent upon the agent/editor to determine if it’s been done with authenticity and accuracy. This should not be based on the writer’s skin color, religion, or sexual preference. It should be based on how true that writer is to the subject, why the writer’s heart is captured by the situation, and what benefit is gained by this particular person telling this particular story.

Sometimes it takes looking beyond the obvious attributes a writer brings to the manuscript to see the finer points of her/his background. Examples abound from my own life:

What qualifies a Christian who didn’t live through World War II to write about the Holocaust? Research, of course. But what about having been married to a Jew who had relatives with numbers burned into their forearms? Or being knocked breathless while wandering through Dachau? Or connecting the dots between the hopeless eyes in photos of concentration camp Jews and victims of the Khmer Rouge while standing in a former Phnom Penh prison?

How can a Caucasian identify with the roots of African slavery? Research, of course. But what about talking around a campfire at night in the Kenyan bush with people who had ancestors who were enslaved? Or hearing a local folktale that is believed to be true? Or connecting the dots between the hopeless eyes in photos of oppressed people of all circumstances?

Why should a healthy, law-abiding woman be able to identify with a psychotic adolescent boy, drug dealers, and prostitutes? Research, of course. But what about working for years at an inpatient psychiatric facility? Or getting so close to people on the street that they greet you by name? Or connecting the dots between the hopeless eyes of the oppressed and of the mentally ill?

As a reader, the last thing I look at is the background of the writer. Instead, it’s the story that does or does not grab me. After the fact, it’s interesting to see the etiology of the work, but if the voice is true, the physical description or anything else about the author is immaterial.

Please, please, please—if you are a writer of a diverse anything, write that book. Be a role model. Bring your experiences to life in the hands of a child.

Please, please, please—if a manuscript crosses your desk by a writer who totally gets the subject because they live it day after day, represent or publish that book. Set high standards. Bring artists who exemplify the real fabric of our world onto the bookshelves of a new generation. This is diversity, no doubt. I celebrate being part of a group that so longs for this to happen.

But please, please, please—do not dictate to anyone what is appropriate material for him or her to write. I don’t care if a transgender person writes about a heterosexual love affair. Eskimos can pen a thriller about Cuban refugees in Miami. A Muslim should be permitted to set a story in a Catholic monastery. Certainly, we need more books about personal experiences. Just allow room for the creativity and drive of one who is willing to tackle a subject for reasons other than what is obvious in their own background.

When every writer in our industry celebrates and promotes the differences in life, true diversity will no longer be the d-bomb. It will be, quite simply, obsolete. All authors will strive for excellence, truth, and authenticity. Isn’t this better than focusing on who is to be included—and who is to be to excluded?

Bam.

Laurel HouckFan of fun factoids, chocolate milkshakes, and wild adventure, Laurel writes to tell the stories that live in her. Her literal and virtual file cabinets attest to her prolific writings of those things that touch her heart, regardless of public opinion. Which may be why she is pre-published…

www.laurelhouckpages.com

@laurelhouck

Sandboxes and Ticking Clocks

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I am thirteen and I decide to write a novel.  I title it Auryan Knight.  It’s going to be amazing.  Magic!  Multiple girl characters!  Talking Animals! Other Worlds!

I am seventeen and I’m still in Chapter Four.  Chapter Four: where all novels go to die.  Instead, I write a thirteen page mini-story that takes place in the last quarter of the book I think I’m writing and turn it in as homework for my English class.

I am nineteen when I finish a draft.  It is barely over 50 thousand words and follows my seven main characters through six continents in a world not their own.

It sucks.

I work on it again in a novel-writing seminar my senior year of college.  I’m a better writer, I tell myself.  But there is way too much information for a single novel.  Maybe it’s three?  I try to parse it out over the semester with little luck.

The following summer I am graduated: a free-spirited, jobless creature and I work for hours on the plotline of this thing.

It’s six books.

I immediately think “I can’t write six books” followed by an impassioned “I have to write six books.”

I put this story away.  I write my first legitimately acceptable novel, which I self-publish the following summer.  I spend the next three years in grad school for Theatre Design and Technology.

Four years later, living in my friend’s apartment while I am homeless for a month and he is at a summer job, I open up my project bible that I started somewhere between 13 and 17, full of pages of notes and sketches and clothing references and cultural mis-mash.

And I write.

The next year, cobbled together in sprints of two weeks off between gigs, I write 110 thousand words that become Book One, The People’s Promise, of what is now known as The Auryan Cycle.  Unlike at 13, 17, 19 or 21, I know more about life, about feminism, about intersectionality and politics and friendship because I have lived them.

I spend the following year on edits – in evenings after I leave the classrooms I now teach in and before rehearsals and between paint calls for the shows I design, and on holiday breaks.  Over Thanksgiving week, which I take solo instead of going to visit my family, I sit for three hours in a Mexican restaurant with a notebook trying to solve the issues of this manuscript.  The problem isn’t difficult to solve.  By highlighting a character (who didn’t even exist in the original concept of this novel), I invest a lot more power into this story.

But it means rewriting.

I do it.  I scrap the last third of Book One and rewrite.  I am at 108 thousand words.

“This is it,” I think.  “I’ve done it.”

A year later and I’ve cut the wordcount down to 88k, killed off a character and still no bites when I’ve pitched or queried.

And yet.

I am not willing to look back at 13 year old me and tell her that she was wrong.  That this novel – this six-book cycle – is not a story worth telling.  She didn’t fully know what story she was telling, but here at 28, I do.  There is a long road yet to climb, but after over fifteen years of investment, the end seems both plausible and probable to me.

Modern culture seems hell-bent on creating a generation inclined towards instant gratification – internet culture, text messaging, Amazon Prime: you think it, you can have it in your hands in a matter of minutes or days.

Unfortunately, that’s not how writing works.

Sure, we’ve all got our ticking clocks telling us “Christopher Paolini published Eragon at like age 20” or “S.E. Hinton wrote the Outsiders when she was 18!”

Slow down there, tiger.  The writing tide isn’t the kind that drains the river bank behind it.  It ebbs and flows, and as a very wise character in The People’s Promise says “Everything changes, like the tide.  You can’t sit waiting for it to come back to you.”

Writing – the kind that when you reread a string of words you’ve penned can still bring tears to your eyes or fire to your throat – that kind of writing doesn’t just happen to you.  You can’t order it on E-bay or stream it on Spotify.  That kind of writing takes two things:  time, and the willingness to shovel yourself a sandbox.

You might be thinking that a sandbox sounds really juvenile, even for a YA writer.  But here’s the thing – I’ve spent 15 years putting sand in the box for The Auryan Cycle.  Jotted down notes about cool clothing in a theatre history course or a Pinterest full of portrait photos that are already characters in my mind.  Hours of backstory and epilogues that will never make their way into print because they’re not the story at hand. Unlearning my own racial biases as I create a diverse world.  Two degrees in theatre that are more valuable to my pen than my English degree.  Over a thousand YA novels I’ve read that feed the part of me that understands how words should feel.  A document file of the hundreds of poems I’ve written trying to find the heart of a thing in ten words or less.  Too many plays and movies to number.

 

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All of these things are grains of sand in this box.  And this is the place I will build my masterpiece.  Yes, a sandcastle is still made of sand – malleable, prone to the elements and time, not made to last.  But as writers, we create something where once there was nothing.  A willingness to spend the time to put more sand in the box, to let the rain smash your first castle back to grains and start over (but hey, maybe you’ve got a moat now!) means something.  It means you’re not in love with the idea of being a writer, but rather you’re already in the trenches of what it means to actually write.

It might take 15 more years for a single book of mine to make it into a major publishing house.  It might never happen.  But ultimately, that’s not the important part about the words we write.  The important part is that the stories we tell crave the telling.  And we crave giving them the telling they deserve.  This is why we strive for stronger prose, clearer plots and more concrete characters.  Sure, getting paid for all that sounds good to all of us, but when 13-year-old me sat down with a spiral bound notebook and wrote the words “Auryan Knight” and numbered every sheet of paper so I could make a chapter index later, did she want a multi-million dollar book deal and three or six movies and her book to be taught in school alongside some of the greats like Tolkien and Lewis?

No.

She wanted to tell the story of a girl in an impossible situation, with the best and worst of friends, fighting for something that mattered by becoming people they didn’t know they could be.

That story is still my story.

And, as I scuff my feet smooth across the sand, preparing to dig in to build Book Two, I find I still want to tell it.


SarahWhiteheadshotSarah White is a roamer by nature, having lived in multiple states and locations in the past five years.  She likes to joke that she got her BA in Acting to study character and her MFA in Theatrical Scenic Design to study setting.  When not at rehearsals or furiously writing any one of 20 novels in her head, she is training her dog Gurgi to be come the best theatre dog in the universe.  She currently teaches technical theatre at Earlham College.  Her first novel, Chasing Merlin, was self-published in 2012.  Follow her on instagram, tumblr and twitter: @sakuramelting

 

Self-Care Tips for Querying Writers

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As querying writers, we face rejection almost daily. It can be difficult to stay positive waiting for that one yes! in an ocean of no’s. Here are some self-care tips and positive thinking strategies that have helped to keep me on the sunny side:

Remember our journeys are our own. It does no good to compare ourselves to other writers whom we feel have had an easy time of it. We each have unique stories that only we can tell. Maybe we haven’t yet lived the experiences that will create the person we need to become in order to write our story the best way it can be written.

Be grateful for what we do have. I don’t have an agent or a book deal right now, but I do have a car that gets me where I need to go. I have an apartment with heat, jobs I love, and many other things for which I am thankful.

Step away from the computer. Play a board game with your family, go for a walk in nature, and spend time with your pets to recharge your spirit.

Creating memories and thoughtful experiences through living them is what gives us inspiration to write.

Help someone else. Do you know someone who could use a little pick-me-up? A batch of home-baked cookies, or a few hours playing cards with someone who could use a friend goes a long way to making them feel better. You will too!

Be kind to yourself. Spend an evening watching a favorite television program or listening to music. Buy yourself a tiny pressie! Sometimes we might not have twenty dollars to treat a friend to lunch or even purchase a new book, but we can usually find a few dollars to buy a snazzy new spiral notebook and a pen in a fun color.

As the great Janet Reid says,

Be ready for the big dance when the music starts to play!

Spend time waiting to hear back from agents by being proactive in your writing career.

Update your blog or website. Even an updated #amreading post with the picture of the book cover of your current read and a few sentences why you are enjoying it will cultivate a feeling of accomplishment and connection with the publishing world and readers of your blog (which may include agents who are scoping you out).

Is your email address easily visible on said site? Another tip from Janet Reid. Go ahead and check that your social media links are active as well.

Follow other querying writer’s blogs. Learn and share information with other querying writers. Find each other on facebook, and twitter through the #amquerying hashtag.

Start a writer’s group if you don’t already belong to one. Public libraries often have meeting rooms available and you can advertise your new group online and by posting flyers. You can create a great group of writers who will support and encourage each other.

Be active on Twitter. Along with Facebook groups for writers, Twitter is a wonderful resource for meeting other writers and fostering a sense of community. Follow your favorites, and tweet that you loved their new book.

Follow agents and lookout for their #querytip posts.

Follow JK Rowling on Twitter. She often tweets writing tips and shares inspiring information. She even shared copies of rejection letters she received as Robert Galbraith, one of which suggested that “a writing course may help.” OMG. Read them here.

Update your Goodreads page. None of us has the time to log all the many books we read, but create time once a month or so to stay current on your reading lists. Leave comments on the pages of authors you admire and connect with other readers, some of whom are writers as well.

Sign up on NetGalley to receive access to forthcoming titles before they are published. Then, post reviews on your blog. This is a great way to keep current with new titles and expand your pool of perspective comps.

Volunteer at a writer’s conference and pitch agents live. If you are lucky enough to attend, inquire whether there are volunteer opportunities. In exchange for a few hours of work, you can attend lectures and panels as well as gain a behind-the-scenes view of how conferences work. This would make an excellent blog post.

Most importantly, remember we all have moments of doubt. By practicing a few self-care tips and being proactive about your writing career, you can remind yourself that you are doing all you possibly can to become a published writer. Waiting is merely a part of that.

JK Rowling never gave up, and neither will we!

authorphotoVerna Austen received an MFA in Creative Writing from Spalding University. Her short stories and poems have appeared in The Minnetonka Reivew, Flying Island, Blood Lotus Journal, and others. She is currently querying and writing a new novel.

Finding a Sense of Gratitude

In this, the first week of 2018, I find myself not in the position I thought I would be. 2017 was my year! I took writing classes galore. I made it into #PitchWars. I connected with writers and readers and industry insiders across the world. In other words, I did what I thought were all the right things to guarantee I would start 2018 as an agented (finally!!) author.

Where am I, sitting here typing this in the frigid beginning to 2018? Same place I was 365 days ago. Unagented, full of ideas, topped off with a heavy dose of self-doubt.

I didn’t get an agent, and in some ways, it feels like I let myself and my manuscript down. Did I not work hard enough? Did I not connect with the right people? Take the right classes? Show my words to exactly the right person? Probably. Maybe. I don’t know. I know that I worked hard, harder than some, less than others, I’m sure. There isn’t exactly a secret formula to getting agented. Wouldn’t that be grand?

I’ve lost myself in this sense of failure. As if getting an agent will somehow prove “I’ve made it.”

ANYONE in publishing knows that having an agent isn’t like Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket.

You still have more rejection to face. This time in the form of editors and publishing houses. I’ve realized, somewhere in the dark abyss of my rejection, that no amount of success will make me feel fulfilled. I will always want the next thing. The next contract. The next “yes.”

This made me wonder, if I didn’t get my ultimate goal, what DID I get? The answer was surprisingly fulfilling.

A writing community.

#PitchWars led me to a class of 182 other writers who have supported me relentlessly. They have answered my questions (no matter how repetitive, stupid, or obvious), critiqued my query, my opening page, my synopsis, and my Twitter pitches. They offered their shoulders when the agent round didn’t pan out the way I’d hoped, and their hands to lift me back up. We’ve commiserated, celebrated, and laughed together. I’ve never felt more like I belong.

Not 1, not 2, not 3, but 4 mentors.

Through Author Accelerator I was coached by Jennie Nash (the Chief Creative Officer and owner of Author Accelerator), Lisa Cron (the author of Story Genius), Julie Artz (Book coach extraordinaire). And through #PitchWars, I was mentored by the wonderful and kind Katherine Fleet. From these amazing, smart ladies, I’ve learned what story means beyond the plot. I’ve learned revision processes and how to get inside a reader’s head. Similarly to #PitchWars, they’ve listened. They’ve given advice. My manuscript has flourished with their careful and thoughtful help.

Confidence.

From Author Accelerator to #PitchWars, I learned how to write a story that works. I know how to compose a compelling query, synopsis, and even pesky Twitter pitches. Even though I love my current manuscript, if it isn’t the one to get me an agent, it’ll be okay, because I know HOW to do it again. And again. And again.

A manuscript I love.

Seriously, guys. I love it. I can’t believe it came out of my brain. It was a lot of hard work, but this process has taught me so much about writing and who I am as a person. No other manuscript has affected me quite like this. (If you’re wondering, it’s about terminal illness, suicide, and finding the will to live.)

A desire to give back.

All I’ve ever wanted is to be a traditionally published author. Do you know how many writers out there want the exact same thing I do? Millions? Billions? The number is ginormous. Because of all the people who have given their time, their expertise, and their patience, I was and am inspired to give back. Maybe I can’t yet share my experience of being agented, but I can tell you what I know and if your story is working.

When I asked to take over All the Way YA in 2018, I didn’t know what to expect. The outpouring of love and support for this blog has been incredible.

That’s what the writing community does. We lift each other up. We give back.

Perhaps I haven’t reached my goal of finding an agent, but 2018 is a new year, and I’m bringing an arsenal of grateful experience. And when I look at it this way, not in terms of what I DIDN’T get, but what I DID, I feel awfully rich, indeed.

Author photoKacey Vanderkarr writes about brave teenagers and unfortunate situations. Her short story, “Distraction,” is featured in NYC’s Subway Library and the inaugural issue of Ember: A Journal of Luminous Things. By day, Kacey is a sonographer, coffee addict, and proud member of SCBWI and the Flint Area Writers group. @kacimari

We’re Back!

All the Way YA will return in 2018!

We are searching for YA writers to share their experiences. We want to know what it’s like in the trenches, whether you’re plotting, pantsing, querying, or selling your dozenth book. ATWYA is not a “how-to” blog, but a peek inside the minds of YA writers, whether our experiences are joyous or disheartening. We want to hear about the journey and what it felt like getting there.

Have a great post idea? We’d love to chat. Fill up the form below and select “I want to blog with ATWYA.”

#DearLaura

Our #DearLaura Q&A column with Laura Lascarso will return in February. Laura is now taking questions regarding writing, publishing, and all aspects of being an author. Fill up the form below for a chance to have Laura answer your burning questions.

2018 is shaping up to be an exciting and rewarding year. We can’t wait to share it with you.

A Pause

Throughout my journey as a writer, I’ve experienced waves of inspiration, as I’m certain all of you have, too. I’ve been surfing the waves of inspiration to write YA stories since I wrote my first one when I was 15. A version of that is here, in case you are curious. Wave after wave came easily for a little over two decades, long past my own teen years.

Recently, as I’ve experienced some changes in my career (I’m finishing up coursework and clinical hours to become a licensed mental health counselor), those waves of inspiration to write YA have waned. Over the last year or so, the awesome grinder I once rode was coming to shore crumbly. Eventually, there were no waves to ride.

I’ve begun to feel the swells of new inspiration to write something new, something connected to mental health, something more personal. I’ve begun a project that isn’t fully developed yet and that I’m more kicking around. If you are interested in taking a peek at this, click here.

Writing young adult fiction started off as therapy for me because my teen years were terrifying, exciting, exhausting, and, most of all, inspiring. I wrote to make sense of the confusion that is the hallmark of this time period. Similarly, I feel that what I am now interested in writing about is also connected to making sense out of something—now it’s emotional health and wellbeing. Story telling is a critical part of this, and I’m interested in following this new wave of inspiration.

So, that brings me to the real purpose of this post: After much thought and discussion, I, along with my sisters-in-writing, Steph Keyes and Kacey Vanderkarr, have decided that we will be closing the doors of this blog for a little while. As of right now, we will be returning next summer, 2017.

This blog has been a healing salve for me; when we began, I was on the verge of book deal…or so I thought. You have all been with me as I dealt with failures and tried to redefine myself as a writer and author. The support and encouragement were lifelines for me, personally, and I hope they were lifelines for all of those out there who have encountered the inevitable failures that go along with attempting to get a book deal.

What sets us apart from other writing blogs is that we always discuss the personal…even when we talk shop or craft, my mission is always to share the personal aspects of this journey in publishing. I hope that while we are gone, you all continue to share your stories around the proverbial water cooler and meet us back here next year.

 

For Librarian Writers: How I Find and Maintain Creativity and Brain Space

“Wow, you’re a librarian, huh? Do you get to read a lot?”

What an old, tired question. I can already hear the collective sigh from other librarians reading this, because the truth is, librarians don’t get a lot of opportunities to read at all. In fact, when I was reading a book on a new arrivals cart, a colleague snapped, “Are you reading?” I put the book back like it was a half-eaten cookie from a jar and said, “No…..?”

If I’m being honest, I became a librarian because I wanted to be a writer, but the reality is, libraries have a lot less to do with writing and books than people think–and writers juggling both careers have a lot of day-to-day challenges that can often feel like a candle burning at both ends.

The Day Job Minutia

In my experience, librarians, by nature, tend to make things more complicated than they need to be, which tends to make work days drag. It can often feel like being stuck in traffic slow enough to see cows peeing. I’ve walked past research consultations in which the student (or patron, or whoever) is staring up at the ceiling while the librarian talks, and looking like they’d asked for directions and ended up in the wrong part of a bad neighborhood. I’ve also been in meetings where we spent a half hour trying to tweak a policy sentence to sound just the right way. And with enough hours like that, coming home to write creatively feels like a very tall job indeed.

This isn’t to say that librarians are bad people; the majority of the ones I’ve worked with have been great. And, like a lot of other jobs, librarians are part of a leaner workforce, and it’s not uncommon to for one person to do the job of two or three people. But this can create a sense of helplessness among librarian writers, because like any writer with a day job, they can often feel like they don’t have enough energy to devote toward their creativity. It’s also probably they aren’t always forthcoming about their creative pursuits, especially in workplaces where it feels like their every move is being monitored.

The Five Hindrances

Every day, like many people, I was confronted with the conundrum of whether I was meant for something else. That even though I was good at librarianship, there was this gaping hole, a piece of me that got lost amid the static. Some days, the only thing that kept me going was my writing, and the hope that came with it. That, and an Emily Dickinson quote on my bathroom wall: “Dwell in possibilities.”

Another way I’ve found to help eliminate the forces dragging me backward is conquering what are known as The Five Buddhist Hindrances. This philosophy posits that everyone has a pristine pool within–and the Five Hindrances disrupt it. The Hindrances are mentioned in relation to meditation, but they can be applied to most situations.

Hindrance 1: Desire for what you don’t have

Or, the “if only” syndrome. If only I was a published writer, or if only I could get the hours in the day to hone my craft, or if only…blah blah blah my life would be better/different/tolerable. In my librarian career, I was plagued with these if-onlys–and most of them involved having more time to write.

I realized, though, that I had more control over this than I thought, and that the real answer lay in finding satisfaction at what I did throughout my day and taking pleasure in my accomplishments while striving for something greater. And if I didn’t get as much done as I’d wanted (which was usually always the case) I could keep striving a little bit each day. Kind of like eating an elephant. A little bit at a time.

Hindrance 2: Anger or ill-will

I also didn’t want to become like some other librarians I’d worked with who had resentment oozing out of their pores. Like any profession, some people have been stuck for so long that they take out their bitterness on others; I quickly found that being surrounded by a bunch of external vitriol can often get invasive. The best way to get past it was to recognize it, be with it, and move on. I had to think of other people’s negativity like a hot potato. I could briefly touch it, but let it go before it burned me.

Maintaining a sense of hope amid the deluge is necessary, not only for well-being, but for overall creative drive. Even more importantly, writing can help maintain a sense of self outside the day-to-day shenanigans.

Hindrance 3: Sloth/torpor

I think this is stops a lot of writers from cranking out material, even when they want to keep writing. Sometimes it comes in the form of exhaustion after a long workday. It’s okay to take breaks, but if one month turns to two without writing, try to find some motivational tools to help you get back in the game. Maybe start small–500 words written by sundown, or something along those lines. Or, carve out a set amount of hours during the day to write, edit, or do whatever else you can to reach your writing goals. For example, I started getting up at 6:00 AM to write because I wanted ensure my manuscripts were handled with my freshest brain. Do what works for you.

Hindrance 4: Restlessness/worry

I’m probably the most guilty of this one. If Hindrance 1 involves “if only”, Hindrance 4 is the “what if” syndrome. For example, I wrestled with having to fill my brain with librarian stuff rather than making room for the kind of creativity I wanted. This usually came with the usual writer worrier questions, like: What if my work isn’t good enough? What if I never get published?

These worries were usually unfounded, of course. I found plenty of ways to get published in nonfiction during my librarian career, and my writing improved the more I did it. It’s all in figuring out whether to put brain energy into worrying, or actually getting tasks done.

Letting go of restlessness and worry also involves recognizing the things in life beyond our control, and accepting them as they are. Take your challenges one day at a time, and keep moving forward even when it feels like the world is trying to pull you back. Write because you love it, and don’t concern yourself with the rest.

Hindrance 5: Doubt

You might ask yourself if writing is what you should be doing, especially when library work is pulling you in a bunch of different directions. For me, it became clear early on that I couldn’t not write. So I managed what I could, when I could, and it eventually helped establish a sense of purpose amid the chaos. Writing was something that was mine, that I could decide, when every other part of my day was spent doing what other people wanted me to do.So hold on to what’s yours, and seize it.

My hope is that no matter where you are, you can still maintain a sense of wonder in your writing journey. Or, as SFGate columnist Mark Morford says, “…being so deeply present, so connected, so alive, so pulsing and breathing and awake in the moment you are in that no matter what your job status, kid status, celebrity status, no matter where you live or to whom you are married, life is already full to bursting.” Make your stories. Craft your words. Shake your fists. But most of all, keep writing. Keep making. And keep doing. You’ll make it.

gravatarOutside her librarian career, Karen McCoy has written full-time since 2008, including reviews, book chapters, short stories, and an article for School Library Journal. She also maintains a blog, The Writer Librarian, where she interviews one author a week.

You can find out more about her on karenmccoybooks.com and view her writing portfolio at karenmccoy.net.

Websites: karenmccoy.net and karenmccoybooks.com
Twitter: @WriterLibrarian
Tumblr: @karenmccoybooks

Am I Too Privileged To Write Diverse Books?

Hi! I’m Joy. I’m a white, cisgender, straight, college-educated, Christian, physiologically and neurologically typical woman of suburban, middle-class background. I write young adult and children’s fiction. And I’m part of a problem.

The young reading audience in the United States is more diverse than ever. As of 2014, almost half of children in the US were not white, but in 2015 only 10 percent of children’s book authors and 14 percent of children’s book characters were non-white.

I write young adult and children’s fiction. And I’m part of a problem.

And it’s not just racial diversity that’s lacking in our books. Diversity can be invisible—like sexual orientation, gender identity, or socioeconomic background—or difficult to classify, like physical or intellectual disabilities.

But why do we need diversity in children’s books?

My older son is three years old. He has hazel eyes, a great Cookie Monster impression, a love of picture books, and Down syndrome.

How many children’s books do you think feature a character with Down syndrome?

Scratch that. How many children’s books that aren’t about Down syndrome do you think feature a character with Down syndrome?

(Spoiler alert: not many.)

My older son is three years old. He has hazel eyes, a great Cookie Monster impression, a love of picture books, and Down syndrome.

Education scholar Rudine Sims Bishop coined the metaphor of mirrors and windows to explain the need for diversity in children’s literature: “When children cannot find themselves reflected in the books they read… they learn a powerful lesson about how they are devalued in the society of which they are a part.”

Furthermore, according to Bishop, children from “dominant social groups” need diverse books to serve as “windows” to the varied backgrounds and perspectives of our world.

My younger son, who is four months old, does not have Down syndrome. He’ll have mirrors in every book he reads. But as they grow, both my sons should be able to find mirrors in books.

Books are a central part of our family life. What kind of message am I sending to my children about their equality in society if any “Down syndrome books” on our shelves are few, far between, and only focus on having Down syndrome?

My younger son, who is four months old, does not have Down syndrome. He’ll have mirrors in every book he reads. But as they grow, both my sons should be able to find mirrors in books.

All children deserve relatable, well-written characters that represent mirrors of themselves, as well as windows into perspectives they might not otherwise see. Kids should be able to find books that show them the ways in which they are different as well as the same.

After all, books are supposed to make us smarter, right? Shouldn’t they also make us more empathetic and compassionate? Shouldn’t stories open our eyes to new ways of seeing the world? And if not in childhood, when?

Well, I’m checking “majority” boxes for pretty much the whole diversity column. And following the mantra “write what you know,” the protagonist in my debut novel is a mirror of my fifteen-year-old self.

So how can I write diverse stories for young adults and children, without getting bogged down in cringe-worthy quagmires of political correctness and awkwardly “inclusive” language?

In other words, am I just too privileged to write diverse children’s literature?

No. And here’s why:

Privilege in itself isn’t the problem. Lack of awareness of privilege is. And as a majority-everything writer, I have a responsibility to remain aware of how my background and demographics pervade my writing. I don’t need to scour and scrub my privilege out of everything I write for the sake of being “diverse,” but I do need to remember that I want to write for every kid—and I want every kid to be able to connect positively with my work.

Privilege in itself isn’t the problem. Lack of awareness of privilege is.

To accomplish that, I’m reading more books about and by people who are different from me. And when I write, I’m consciously widening my focus from how my characters look, talk, and behave to richer questions: where they come from, who they love, if and how they pray, how they see the world, and how the world sees them. Here are some other things I’m keeping in mind:

  • Recognizing when I’m writing “mirrors” of myself and considering ways to open new “windows” instead
  • Writing without assuming I understand experiences that I haven’t lived through
  • Approaching unfamiliar ground with humility, knowing that mistakes mean I’m growing as a writer (and as a human)
  • Developing characters that are purposeful and complex
  • Focusing not on checking diversity “boxes,” but on broadening my own perception of who belongs in my stories and how

In short, I’m continually learning to treat characters (and readers) the way I’d want to be treated: like every part of who I am matters.

As a person of privilege, I’m part of an existing problem. But if, as a writer, I keep opening windows, I can also be part of the solution.

Joy GivensJoy Givens is the author of the young adult novel Ugly Stick and its companion collection April’s Roots, and she’s the co-author of The New SAT Handbook. Joy prefers to write middle grade and YA novels, leaning towards the fantastical and fabulous.

Born and raised with four siblings in Columbus, Ohio, Joy now resides in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, with her fantastic husband, their two remarkable sons, and an impossibly lovable dog. In addition to her writing, Joy is the owner and lead tutor of Givens Academic and Preparatory Tutoring, a company serving the greater Pittsburgh area. She also enjoys singing and listening to most genres of music, cooking for family and friends, and curling up with a good book and good coffee.

 

 

My #PitchWars Experience / @Jamie_Beth_S

pitchwars-logo

I’m trying to find representation and/or a publisher for my first novel.

You can read about my early steps on this journey here, but to bring you up to speed, by January of 2016 (six years into this manuscript and over a year into querying) I had decided to revise Novel Number One (again) in anticipation of #PitchWars, a major on-line pitch competition in the summer.

I had been hearing whispers (if Twitter can whisper) about #PitchWars for nearly a year. The contest is intense, and unlike some contests, the goal isn’t necessarily to find an agent (though that would be a bonus!), but rather to find a community made up of mentors and peers (and mentors who will become peers and vice versa).

#PitchWars is interesting because it’s sort of a microcosm of the publishing world itself. This is not a contest where you blindly send off your submissions and hope for the best or Tweet a pitch with a hashtag and wait for the universe to come calling. In #PitchWars you research potential mentors via several methods (mini-interviews, live video chats, wishlist posts, hashtags) the same way you would research potential agents and editors (though I’d say #PitchWars tries to make it a bit more entertaining!). If a mentor selects you, you work with them on your revisions for two months in preparation for an agent round.

The lead-up to the competition can feel a little chaotic, and as a first-time hopeful I often felt like everyone else already knew each other and/or I was missing out on some essential secret. I don’t like being “new” at anything and can never feel comfortable anywhere until I’ve figured out the lay of the land. Investigating new situations isn’t as exciting for me as it is for some. In fact, it’s totally anxiety provoking. But for the most part, the way a teenager might walk into a new school cafeteria with her head held high and fake it until she makes it, I did my research, got involved, came to enjoy it, and found my people.

I did not, however, get into #PitchWars.

I submitted to eight mentors (which includes two pairs of mentors), got requests from two mentors, and received feedback from all but one of the people I subbed to. As I’ve come to expect in the publishing world, the responses were subjective and not uniform. A few mentors said they didn’t connect with the pages or that the stakes weren’t high enough. Another said that she liked what she read, but as she could only pick one mentee she wanted to go with someone who had a stronger “hook” that would really stand out in the agent round. She said she thought I’d fair better on the query circuit than I would on the contest circuit.

I was doing my best to make peace with my disappointment and learn what I could from the feedback I received when I got a completely unexpected confidence booster. A pair of mentors emailed to say they didn’t select me as their mentee because they didn’t think I needed their help. They said it was time to query, and they didn’t feel right making me wait two months to get at it! In the lead-up to #PitchWars you hear about this kind of email, you hope to get this kind of email, but you never expect to get one!

A big public thank you to
@S_M_Johnston
@kitfrick
@kbuttonw
@laurellizabeth
@kestrester
@Dannie_Morin
@rlynn_solomon
@JennyMarieH

and
@brendadrake
@HeatherCashman
@Nikki_Roberti

for making #PitchWars a really useful (and mostly enjoyable!) experience. I recommend it to anyone looking to expand his or her writing community, and I hope to to participate again in 2017 with a whole new manuscript.

And now back to the query trenches…