No Kids in Cages

We don't usually get overtly political over here, but there are times when it's unavoidable. Times when something is so unconscionably, unimaginably WRONG that speaking out is not an option. Over the past few days we've seen the rights and well-being of migrant children, of "their" children, clearly articulated as less important than the rights and well-being of "our" children, doing irreparable damage to thousands as a result. Even with the promised incremental change to policy, kids have already been harmed, and it's inexcusable.

A vast swath of the kidlit community has come together in protest of this policy, publicly signing an open letter in opposition to the conditions under which these immigrant children are being held, and raising an incredible $173,533 so far for donation to Refugee and Immigrant Center for Education and Legal Services (RAICES) and a handful of other organizations providing services to immigrants and refugees at the border. You can read more and donate here.

The final thought I'd like to leave you with is this tweet from fellow author Carrie Jones:

If you are writing books for teens and kids, it is usually a good idea to actually care about teens and kids.

Not just some kids and teens.
All kids and teens.

— Carrie Jones (@carriejonesbook) June 19, 2018

WRITERS' RITES: Creation In Color

Things have changed, in children's literature. Historically, our posts have been alerting people to what's going on in smaller corners of a small world, and most of our time has been spent in talking about book deals, books, classroom visits, and young readers. Most of our time has been spent in earnestly seeking to understand and communicate both the trends and the ebb and flow of the market, sometimes in personal reference to us, but most often in reference to the whole world of children's lit. More personally, AF and I were both in on the big "multiculturalism" wave of the 90's. [AF: Compared to the limited range of stories available in the 80s, when we were growing up, it was a hopeful trend.] We attended conferences and listened to the talk about expanding stories and being inclusive. We hoped it meant something, that narratives about mixed kids would become more prominent, and that identity and ethnicity wouldn't stand out as hot-button "trend" books, but part of a normalized, homogenized whole. We've both listened in as the conversation has shifted to "diversity" and then away from that to the idea of "writing from the margins" and the use of "own voices" as part of the narrative.

We've mostly been pretty quiet. By nature and personality, neither Sarah nor I are scrappers and thus have been mostly observers in the growing pains of this brave new world of children's lit. But, recently I participated more directly in a Twitter conversation about being both a woman writer and a woman of color writing. A simple comment with a hashtag bloomed into a six+ hour outpouring of snark and pain and rage -- and it shocked a lot of people, galvanized others into trying to make it a "movement," offended a few, and infuriated others.

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No one needs to explain to anyone (because if you have to explain it, that person to whom you're speaking likely is predisposed to disagree, and then explanations will not assist) that this country has a problem with institutionalized, ingrained, implicit bias, or more directly with racism. If you're new to this idea, welcome. The rest of us have known for some time. What might have previously been harder to see is that something ingrained infects everything, everything. EVERY. THING. Even children's lit, a place where we previously insisted all was happiness, rainbow unicorns, and fluffy bunnies. "But, it's a happy, close-knit community!" people insisted. Which it is, unless you challenge the status quo and bring in new thinking - and then you'd be surprised by the fury. I know I have been. "All this talk just stirs up bitterness," some have said in response to the conversation. Yes. Not everyone is happy, even though they are in the field, because the field of children's lit is not yet what it could be, what it needs to be. And, that unhappiness is also okay. It's all part of the process.

Stepping aside from the daily misunderstandings, slights, overlooking and misdirecting, there are those in children's lit taking on the work of changing it, and I once again have to give them respect. Reading While White is the first blog I've ever seen written by people who are doing something specific about implicit bias in the children's lit field. And it's not easy for them; there is push-back against their every blog post, even as their stated purpose is to learn for themselves how to listen and hold themselves accountable for how their privileged whiteness impacts the way they see the world. It's as if every thing they write is a personalized rebuke to someone else, and there is a lot of bitterness.

We're mostly observers here, as I've said. I have a raging anxiety which causes me hives at the thought of the constant emotional labor and combat it takes to make inroads in the conversation around visibility and authenticity. This is not work I can do. [AF: And, as a mixed person, visibility and authenticity are huge issues--sometimes, those of us of mixed descent are racially or ethnically ambiguous, and if you aren't recognized as a "something," it's easy to feel like you're a nothing. Invisible. Not enough of one, not enough of the other, and authentic enough for neither.] 

And yet, even as we don't all work directly for this change, we are a part of it. As we usher greater visibility, accommodation, accuracy and accountability into young adult and children's literature, these changes will become a part of the world for those who come after us. AF is more thoughtful and articulate, and neither of us are quick with a comeback - we both prefer to think slowly and write and the conversations have at times been boiling along furiously. We've both stepped back from those -- but yesterday, it was really nice to be heard. It was cathartic to express the stupid things which have been said. It was nice not to feel crazy, exceptional, isolated. It is validating to feel that you are not alone. [AF: It is eye-opening to see certain types of comments in a new light, too--as well as to bear witness to some of the comments that I've been fortunate enough not to experience firsthand. It enhanced MY understanding of what fellow women writers and writers of color experience.] And that's why yesterday's conversation was most important.

It is hard being a woman writing in this day and age. It is hard in different ways being a woman of color writing. In many cases, people hear these sentences and assume the voices which say them are merely angry - that these microaggressions came with rejections, and that these people saying "this is hard, this is what I hear," are just victims lashing out. Not true. Sometimes the slights are said by well-meaning people who work with the women of color in question to produce their work. This is borne out by the fact that some very successful authors popped by to bring things up in these discussions. But, again, I sense a strange, slim thread of comfort in the furor, in the stories held private, and then shared -- we are moving, slowly, a troubled industry, one step at a time, toward what it should be.
Small comfort. But as long as life remains, we are the hope.

New Year's Action: Writers Resist!

I am terribly proud to be one small part of an amazing group of 30 local writers that is participating in Writers Resist: Modesto on Sunday, January 15, 2017. From the official press release:

"The flagship Writers Resist event, founded by poet Erin Bilieu and co-sponsored by PEN America, will feature famous literary figures braving January weather on the steps of the Public Library in New York City to read historic and contemporary writings on the ideals of democracy and free expression. Additional Writers Resist events, are being held in Boston, Los Angeles, Oakland, Austin, Portland, Omaha, Seattle, London, Zurich, Hong Kong, and many more cities.

Locally, the City of Modesto’s poet laureate, Stella Beratlis—along with writer Shanyn Vitti Avila and poet Elizabeth Sousa—is organizing Writers Resist: Modesto in response to concern during the recent Presidential campaign over public cynicism, disdain for truthfulness, and the unleashing of hatred and bigotry. Beratlis, a longtime member of the League of Women Voters of Stanislaus County, wanted to present an event which might galvanize Modesto audiences to become active in the civic life of the community, support nonprofits that address social justice issues, and network with like-minded people while having fun."

For more info, click to embiggen the flyer in the image at right, and to see if there's a Writers Resist event in your area, visit their main website.

With alarming racist events occurring even at our local community college campus, where my husband and I teach, I think it's incredibly important to stand up for a peaceful, thoughtful, diverse, and just society that operates on ideals of civility and values truth over small-mindedness. I come from a family that includes recent immigrants, Muslims, atheists, Latinos, South Asians, Caucasians; people of various faiths and ethnic origins who are brought together by love and care for one another--something that I hope is still possible on a nationwide level. I hope for a society where we recognize and value the diversity of our friends and neighbors, not one where I'm literally frightened that some of my family members might be targeted for reasons of faith, ethnicity, or national origin. Participating in Writers Resist is, for me, a critical part of standing up for my ideals in a way that promotes positivity and action.

And that's my two cents on it.

A Little Shout-Out to the Kidlit Con...

"Difference. Unlikeness. Variety. Multiformity. Diversity. It’s not even really easy to define terms. When one person says “diverse” another person nervously hears race, or ethnicity, or gender. But diversity in children’s lit can be – and should be – all of those things, and more."

A few months ago, a friend came to me to ask questions about race and ethnicity, in a way she feared she could never do in public, in person, with many of you.

Was this friend right? Is diversity such a divisive, taboo topic that unless you're chanting "Yes! Yes! Go, Diversity!" and waving pom-poms and hashtags that it's NOT okay to talk about it, have questions about how to talk about it, to be concerned about doing things "right" and to express yourself as clueless and confused?

"It’s easy to sit in the audience and nod when people talk about diversity. It’s easy to sign up to be a part of the crowd… but it takes trusting ourselves and trusting each other to set aside our preconceptions to speak up – and be prepared to listen and learn."

It's becoming clear that the more we talk about things, the more possibility there is for understanding. Consider speaking up, friends!

P.S. - Another great post from Liz Garton Scanlon on diversity, on BookPeople, Austin's bookstore blog. Don't miss!

Ron, Hermione, and True Love...

Quoted in an article on ThinkProgress, J.K. Rowling says, "I wrote the Hermione/Ron relationship as a form of wish fulfillment. That's how it was conceived, really. For reasons that have very little to do with literature and far more to do with me clinging to the plot as I first imagined it, Hermione ended up with Ron."

Alyssa Rosenberg, who wrote the article, goes on to say, "it is interesting to me that Rowling apparently regrets what I see as some of the most sensitively written and emotionally well-realized passages in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows as an error of judgement." At the beginning of the article, she says, "It's frustrating, but probably inevitable in this age of voracious fandom, to see authors attempts to tweak, or litigate, or modify their work via interview long after the pages have gone to the printers and the work has wandered out into the world to be read and loved." 

All I can say is, Word. Sometimes I don't need to know every detail of the backstory. Sometimes it's what isn't explicitly stated that creates its own magic in a story; the unconscious resonance created by the layers being woven together, intentionally or unintentionally, and to change that might be to unravel the whole thing.

We talked about this a bit today in our writing group, using a recent Hunger Mountain article by Stephanie Friedman called "Conjuring the Magic of Story" as a point of departure. The idea of resonance as magical really, well, resonated. And I can't help but feel like, beyond a certain point, over-explanation dissipates the power of that magic. Sort of like, when you try too hard to explain a joke, it isn't funny anymore--humor and laughter being a kind of magic, too. The magic is an emergent property, the result of some mysterious, invisible alchemy that occurs between the writer and the words and the reader. And once it's out there, it's out there.

[I suspect that's one reason why sequels are a challenge: the writer has their experience of the story, but the reader's may well be different, and their expectations may not be met by what the writer writes next--and that's not the fault of the writer. It's not a fault situation at all, really. But I digress.]

I acknowledge the fact of Reader Greed. I've been guilty of it myself: there are times when I want to know more, want to read more. There are plenty of times where I just plain don't want to leave the world of a story. But, I guess, what we want isn't always what's good for us, right? Sometimes we eat that extra piece of pie and then feel a little sick...

HOW DID I MISS THIS!?!?!?!?

Well, y'all know we're so obsessed - in a nice way - with ROSEMARY CLEMENT-MOORE that we had her over for the Summer Blog Blast Tour in 2011, and went on and on and ON about 2011 Cybils nominee TEXAS GOTHIC.

Which really brings up the question: HOW COME NONE OF YOU PEOPLE TOLD US THE TEXAS GOTHIC SEQUEL WAS OUT???

WHAT KIND OF FRIENDS ARE YOU??????

I mean, really.

/ rant

North American Discworld Con: The Good

Ohh, fandom. You are vastly amusing, at all times.

Still trying to process four days of ... crazybright, colorful, randomized flashes of input. My brain is just a blur of sights and sounds and my own opinions, and I'm thrashing about to find some meaning from it. Stay tuned! Meanwhile...

Here is a joy, which remains unalloyed: fandoms create, and there is value in this creation. The Author pens the words, and the fandom breathes the words to life. Cons affirm the value of creating your own world, and living in it fearlessly, regardless of what hundreds of other hotel-residents who are there for the merely mundane, like family reunions and weddings and such might think. This is the pure glee of going to a Con. Costumes and a long-running in-joke.

Here is a wish: that we would have our long-running jokes, but that we might share. Who was it that said the difference between geeks and nerds is that geekery is acquisitive and nerdom shares? That's vastly oversimplified, yes, but it revealed itself as a truth.

We arrived early for the Con, on the 4th to enjoy the fireworks on the waterfront, and there were a massive group of people at the hotel to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation. We were in an elevator when a group asked us who we were, and what our con was about, and Tech Boy attempted to explain. "Well, it's mainly a literature conference," he began. "Fantasy literature, by Sir Terry Pratchett. He wrote twenty-eight books -- "

"Thirty-two," someone interjected from the back.

"No, twenty-nine," someone else had to say.

"Um, well, anyway," Tech Boy went on desperately, "He's a British author, and --"

"If you count RAISING STEAM, that'll make it thirty," someone was insisting.

And, just that fast, we lost the moment to share and devolved into Miss Know It All Knows More-dom. I was both amused and embarrassed for the pissing match that followed. Shall we count ALL Pratchett books? At a Discworld Con, shall we count only Discworld books, including the one rumored to be coming out in October, even though it's not out yet? Shall we maybe answer the question of the man who actually knows nothing about Pratchett, wants to know who we are, and why we're there, and then maybe send him off to his library to start the series???? Fandom FAIL. Le sigh.

Here's another wish: that people of color would discover - rediscover? - fandom.

Dear People of Color: Missed you at Con. No, really. We MISSED YOU. Baltimore is a diverse city in many ways, but the Con attendees were, by and large, not really from the area. Of our number, which we are told numbered into the eight hundreds, there were TEN people of color that I saw on my frequent perambulations. And that's being generous - erring on the side of "maybe you're biracial, and we're counting you, too." Three Asian women and one man, possibly two, three African American women, counting myself, possibly one South Asian, and one biracial woman. And that was it.

Granted: a Con is bloody expensive. A Con in which you dress up, attend Maskerades and Gala Dinners, in which you take time off of work - the price adds up. Who has time or impetus to go all the way to Baltimore, spend money on a posh hotel and food and parking (bloody parking, Catherine Asaro parked for five hours and paid $26 for the privilege - sheesh, Marriott!), not to mention the blandishments of the Dealer Room where swag might be purchased? Not a lot of people, and that's just the truth. And maybe some people of color would prefer to take their fantasy leanings and share them at The House of Mouse or other summertime destinations where dressing up is equated with childhood, and not as embarrassing, instead of at a homegrown fan-based book con. But, I think there are just as many nonwhite fantasy book nerds out there as there are dominant culture fans, and I was really disappointed that they weren't in attendance.

This is a problem at more than this particular Con. Every year, I look at Lissa's pictures from ComicCon and the Gratz family's pictures from DragonCon and the like, I still see a dearth of folk. I want to encourage non-white fans to get out there and make a place for themselves. See, the thing is this: FANTASY FICTION IS ALL IMAGINATION: the Discworld - and all worlds - are only as big as we imagine. Please, put yourself in the picture, and let us imagine you, too.

(I know. I remember the whole stupid thing in the Hunger Games fandom over Rue. Not gonna lie; some people in fantasy fandoms don't want people of color to be part of the fandom imagination in any way, because it threatens the world they've imagined. Their issue; don't let it be yours. You just be you.)

< /rant >

Costuming, filking, artworking, rubbernecking, chatting, crafting, and basically dreeing one's weird; these were all Con activities... and The Panel! Meeting Sheila from Wands & Worlds IN PERSON for the first time! General squealishness and bookisnness! Stay tuned for the rehash, with alllll the links. ☺

And, feel free to check out more completely random Con pictures.

Bits and Pieces--and Good News

There is never a bad time for good news, and if we can start the week off with good news on a Monday morning, so much the better.

I heard via Colleen @ Chasing Ray that our very own TANITA, of THIS BLOG RIGHT HERE, is on the ALA's 2013 Rainbow List of LGBTQ titles for young people for her latest book, Happy Families. Knowing as I do how much heart, sincerity, and perseverance went into the writing of this story, I couldn't be happier to hear the news. (And I was already doing a little happy dance after seeing Happy Families prominently featured on the New Teen Books shelf at my local library.) Congratulations!!

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A few other items that crossed my virtual desk recently:

"No matter what type of novel you’re writing, there had better be some kind of suspense in it. The reader must be asking, 'How will this turn out?'—a question preferably followed by: 'I have to find out, and I can’t go to bed until I do!'"  Jeff Gerke wrote a guest column for Writer's Digest about How to Raise the Stakes in Your First 50 Pages so that your reader can't help but keep turning the pages. We all know how important this is, but it never hurts to read some well-written reminders.

Also, via Laura Atkins' Twitter feed, I found this SLJ article in which librarians respond to a recent New York Times piece claiming there's a lack of Latino characters in children's lit. Librarians respond: "there is actually a wealth of resources currently available to these kids, and librarians have the power (and the responsibility) to make those meaningful connections." Hear, hear. Lamenting the fact that there aren't MORE Latino characters is one thing, but doing it without giving due credit to those authors and illustrators who do portray Latinos in literature is a disservice to those out there who ARE making the effort. ...End Diversity Soapbox.

Lastly, how much do I wish I could go to the Clarion Writers' Workshop this summer? Kelly Link? Cory Doctorow?  SIGH. Unfortunately, there's just too much other stuff going on and potentially going on this summer already. NOT THAT I AM COMPLAINING about my June book release! :)

Picking Favorites, 2012

It's list season out there. Cybils faves that didn't quite make the shortlist, top new releases of 2012, and so on and so forth. Even Tanita posted a Cybils post-mortem here and a few more shout-outs (shouts-out?) here, in honor of award season.

You all win...um...this
clip art of the America's Cup!

I've posted a lot of links to those lists (particularly on the Cybils blog) and now, quite frankly, I'm jealous. So I thought, why not post my own list of favorite MG/YA reads of 2012? Not that I am any sort of authority--I'm not even a Cybils judge this year, and I've honestly had very poor presence in the blog realm recently (though I've been toiling behind the scenes, I swear). But, as Tanita put it in her last post, I think those informal shout-outs are often just as valuable as official list-y, award-y things.

So, without any regard for publication date (because my reading pile has no such limitations), here were my favorite books read in 2012:

Fantasy/Sci-Fi Faves:

Dodger, by Terry Pratchett, was a fun alternate-history-fantasy-ish story that, while unconnected with Discworld, still contains plenty of Pratchett's characteristic humor and sympathetically drawn characters. And plenty of Victorian grime and mayhem to boot. Review here

Froi of the Exiles by Melina Marchetta. Damn, but I love these books. The first in the series, Finnikin of the Rock, was definitely a favorite, and the sequel was just as amazing. Adventure, drama, dark fairy-tale themes, a lost prince, a princess who may or may not be insane... I bow down. Review here

Bitterblue by Kristin Cashore. Again, a series I absolutely love, and again, amazingness from an author who is able to maintain the same high level of writing, of pure fantasy goodness, throughout each book. She is fantastic with the strong, capable female main characters. Review here

A Tale of Time City by Diana Wynne Jones, which I re-read. Just as good as I remembered it from childhood. Review here

Grave Mercy by Robin LaFevers. I'm not going to go on about it, although I COULD. Tanita and I were reduced to squealing fangirls. That is all. Review here, by Tanita

Honorable mention: I read both of Jonathan Maberry's zombie sequels to Rot & Ruin and they were both good fun. Reviewed here.

Graphic Novel Faves:

Zita the Spacegirl by Ben Hatke was just TOO CUTE and funny. It was last year's Cybil award winner for MG graphic novels, and it was definitely deserving. Review here

Friends With Boys by Faith Erin Hicks is a finalist this year, I believe, for Cybils Teen GNs. Not every story about fitting in at school also has a ghost in it...and not every webcomic makes a good graphic novel, but this one succeeds on both counts. Review here

Page by Paige by Laura Lee Gulledge. This was another Cybils finalist last year, and it charmed me by being the story of a young artist told partially through her own words and images, some of them quite dazzling and touching. Yay for stories about artistic types! Review here

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle and Hope Larson. I couldn't have come up with a better person to rework this book in graphic novel format. Review here

Historical Fiction Faves:

This year I was basically obsessed with Bloody Jack books. Too much rollicking adventure and vivid historical/nautical detail for me to resist, I suppose. Plus I love the premise of a girl who can't help but thwart all of society's expectations for nice young girls, because it's just in her nature. Review here for the first two books.

Middle Grade Faves:

Wonderstruck by Brian Selznick. If you loved The Invention of Hugo Cabret as much as I did, you'll want to pick this one up. All I can say with both of these is, I wish I'd written them, wish I'd drawn those moving, beautiful pictures. Review here

Bigger than a Bread Box by Laurel Snyder. On the serious side, it's a book about coping with divorce, and does an amazing job of portraying that sensitively. On the other hand, it's funny, it's fantastical, and it's just all-around charming. Plus I was honored to take part in the blog tour for the book. Review here

Realistic YA Faves:

Please Ignore Vera Dietz by A.S. King was a big standout for me this year. A heartbreaking and shocking story, with a relatable main character, that pulls no punches about how tragedy shatters your life and how difficult it can be to find closure. Review here

Writer Friend Shout-Outs:

I read some really good books by writer friends this year, too. Besides Grave Mercy and Bigger than a Bread Box, discussed above, I also enjoyed Jaclyn Dolamore's Magic Under Stone, Jennifer Hubbard's Try Not to Breathe, Elizabeth Wein's Code Name Verity, and Sarah Beth Durst's Vessel. Here's me shouting out! Woo hoo!!

So there's my list of the books that really stood out for me over the past year. My thanks to the authors for all the happy hours of reading! Please keep writing. That is all.

WEDNESDAY WRITERS: Your Bechdel PSA

Periodically I share things with my writing group that I think are a great idea to share with people across the board, as it were. So, from us to you: your periodic Bechdel Public Service Announcement.

A quick refresher for those who don't know what I'm talking about - the Bechdel Test came from a 1985 comic strip called "Dykes to Watch Out For," written by one Alison Bechdel. One of the characters in the strip, which is entitled "The Rule," talks about how she only sees a very specific sort of movie, ones in which female nad male actors interact in specific ways. The Rule has been taken and morphed to touch on not just movies but books and media of all kinds. So, on to what was shared in our writing group:

Every once in awhile, I reread what this Bechdel thing means. I desperately want ALL of my work to pass this test, and so it's important to me to remind myself to not fall into the easy tropes and cheap shot stereotypes. Multiple, developed, relevant female characters who advance the story is the goal. Multiple, developed, relevant male characters who advance the plot are also good, even from the periphery.

DEFINED:The Bechdel test is used to identify gender bias in fiction. A work passes the test if it features at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man.

And, of course, there's the Bechdel Test for Race in Popular Fiction. Does your story have at least two characters of color in it? Do they talk to each other? About anything other than the character from the dominant culture?

Multiple, developed, relevant men and women of all genders, ethnicities, and sexes is what will make your fiction great -- tougher to write at times, with no lazy in-group shorthand, more critically observed, walking the line between inclusiveness and condescension, but with the potential for excellence. And what more can we really ask from our writing but this?

Go forth and write outside of the box, people. Si, si puede.

Why I Vote: A Multi-Blog Event

Today, around the kidlitosphere, you're likely to see a lot of voting-related blog posts. What you won't see is proselytizing, muckraking, mudslinging. What you WILL see is a wide range of inspiring personal stories along the theme of "Why I Vote." Thanks to Colleen, Lee, and Greg for revisiting this multi-blog effort to get out the vote, after a successful Blog the Vote event in 2008. Go check out the master post roundup and pass it on to all your friends and family, especially those who aren't sure they'll vote. No matter who or what we're for or against, voting is the most basic way we make our voices heard in this country. And, as my husband often puts it, it gives you the right to complain. If you don't vote, quit complaining!

The right to complain isn't why I vote, though. I vote because I am lucky to be part of a politically active and interested family. When I was little, my mother would bring me with her to the polling place--often in some devoted volunteer's garage--and I'd see the excitement, the people going in and out of the little voting booths, and I already looked forward to being a part of it. It wasn't just a matter of getting a neat "I voted" sticker. Voting was a fact of life, and there was no question that I'd one day do it.

My father, too, has always been politically active. He loves to talk politics--argue politics, really--and although I'm sure part of that is due to innate interest, I also know he's aware of the privilege of voting as a U.S. citizen, because he was not born in this country. He became a naturalized citizen when I was small, and I can't remember a time when he wasn't a fan of reading about politics, watching the news at full volume...and baiting my mother, since they supported opposing parties.  And since he retired, he's become even more involved, helping a local L.A. area politician run for state Senate--a fellow Pakistani-American; supporting and attending local interfaith community events. And, of course, he still loves to have those political arguments.

So, yes, staying informed about current events was a fact of life in my house when I was growing up. But it wasn't just my parents. I played my part, too. When I was in high school, I was a member (and ultimately vice-president) of the Junior Statesmen of America, even attending regional conventions and leading debates and discussions, so there was no way I was NOT going to vote when I became of legal age. And then, I went on to attend college at UC Berkeley, one of the more politically active campuses in one of the most politically active cities I can think of. Compared to people I knew there, I was one of the least active with respect to causes and issues. Believe me, you get burned out pretty quick when people are shoving Food Not Bombs or Affirmative Action By Any Means Necessary flyers into your face whenever you cross Sproul Plaza.

But the one thing I did do, the one thing I've done without fail (except for one eensy weensy local ballot) is VOTE. I always vote. I always read the pamphlet, I always do extra research if the voter information they send me isn't enough, and I always cast a reasonably informed ballot. Yes, part of that is because I'm a huge nerd, but it is also incredibly important. The why of it isn't always tangible, especially when you're just one vote among millions. But that's why I'm sharing my voting story--what it's meant to me, what I think of when I think about being politically active and an informed citizen. It is what you make of it, and this country is what we make of it. WE THE PEOPLE, each one of us, is a piece of the giant, unwieldy, amazing, incredible jigsaw puzzle that is E pluribus unum--out of many, one. The question is, do you want to be a part of it?

An Ode to Bloody Jack

Jacky Faber is exactly the kind of character my childhood self would have adored. As it is, my adult self is gobbling up her stories with a jumbo spoon. I listened to the audiobook version of the first book in the series, Bloody Jack, narrated both ably and commandingly by Katherine Kellgren, and knew I’d have to check out more books in the series.

I've just finished book two, The Curse of the Blue Tattoo, and my enthusiasm for this series by L.A. Meyer is undimished. I decided to go for the traditional ink-on-paper version this time, and though I wondered how the voice would come across compared to the audiobook, I shouldn't have been worried. I did, however, hear Ms. Kellgren's voice in my head from time to time, though that wasn't a bad thing, to my mind.

Anyway, I love Jacky. She's indomitable, spunky, brave, impulsive, a bit reckless, determined, practical, and clever. She's got a kind heart, despite weathering more of the storms of life than most people ever suffer in a lifetime. Her conscience pricks at her whenever her recklessness causes her to take advantage of others' kindness or gets them into trouble—and it often does, as she's a strong, smart, and stubborn young woman living in a time period (the early 1800s) when women's roles in society were still very limited.

In the beginning, she gets away with a lot because she's disguised as a boy; later, in the second book, her boy disguise doesn't get her as far anymore, but her youth keeps her from suffering the full punishment that early U.S. law would prefer to levy for her mischief. I'm very curious to see how this aspect of the story morphs in future books, as Jacky gets older, more physically mature, and (presumably) a bit wiser.

As a writer, I'm impressed by how L.A. Meyer has created a character who is fun and entertaining but also complex and multidimensional. Jacky isn't simply a swashbuckling adventurer—she acknowledges the side of her that is a blossoming woman, at the same time that she resists the strictures that society at the time placed on women. That tension is dealt with very effectively, and in fact ends up getting Jacky into trouble more often than not. It really brings home the idea that if a writer wants to create interesting plot developments in an organic way, you create a compelling character, place her into a challenging situation and let things happen from there. Here, Jacky is placed into exactly the sort of situation that tries her patience and throws up obstacles at every turn—in a way, society is her nemesis.

Besides, of course, dread pirates and cutthroats and ruffians and mean girls.

Note: I am posting the hardback cover images here because I really think the paperback covers are BLECCHHH. Sorry. That's my professional artistic opinion. The hardcover images are just way more evocative and interesting and fun and have that historical flavor. The paperback ones look like photos of a teenage girl at the Renaissance Faire. OK, rant over.

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You can find Bloody Jack, The Curse of the Blue Tattoo, and many others by L.A. Meyer at an independent bookstore near you!

Looks Like Someone's Got a Case of the Mondays

Yes! That someone is me! You guessed it. Anyway, in lieu of all the grumbling I would really like to do, I will leave you with a few links that crossed my path over the past week or so.

• First, a couple of news items from GraphicNovelReporter.com: For an exhaustive slideshow review and preview of the best graphic novels of 2012, as reported at BEA, check here and proceed to drool. Among other things, I'm looking forward to new titles from Raina Telgemeier (author of Smile) and Derek Kirk Kim, co-author of Level Up. 


• Also, going on RIGHT NOW (well, this week) at ALA is a brand-new Eisner Graphic Novel Prize for Libraries, "a contest that will award libraries with $1,000 worth of Eisner Award-nominated books, $2,000 in a voucher to be used to buy more graphic books, and a $1,000 stipend on top of all that to go toward an event or signing featuring a graphic novel creator." How awesome is that? Read the full article here.


• Lastly, there's been a fair bit of discussion lately on the Kidlitosphere Yahoo Group about When Good Authors Go Bad. That is, when an otherwise perfectly sane human being sees a less-than-favorable review of their book and goes apeshit in public, to the detriment of his or her reputation and to the dismay of the blogger who worked hard on his or her review. We don't like to think about this sort of thing happening--we authors AND bloggers try to be professional--but the truth is, it does happen. On the CBC Diversity blog, read one author's perspective on what to do with a bad review. 

As a blogger, I try to be diplomatic when highlighting what I see as a book's weaknesses, and I generally don't review books that I can't say something positive about. (Of course, there are plenty of other reasons why I might not review a book on this blog--please don't assume, if we didn't review your book, that it's because we didn't like it!) However, other people approach reviews differently.

As an author, I don't have control over other people's reactions, and they're entitled to their opinions. I can't control whether someone writes a review that is complimentary, or professional, or accurate, or fair, but I certainly can do my best to control how I react in a public forum. Bloggers are not necessarily professional reviewers, but I see myself as a professional writer, and I want to behave accordingly. That means if I feel like I have to throw a tantrum about something someone says about my work, I'll throw my tantrum in private and make my cats stare at me in bewilderment. In public, I'll do what seems appropriate, which in many cases is nothing at all. Because, when it comes down to it, once my work is out in the world, people are going to think what they think, and I no longer have control over my babies after they've left the nest.

My job is to write. End of story.

(Okay, sorry, I DID grumble a bit. Whoops.)

WEEKEND WORD Turning Over A New Leaf

This is going to be somewhat of a serious post - but it's something that comes as a result of a lot of soul-searching and talking with other blog friends.

This month it's National Poetry Month, and we're all poised to enjoy the beauty and power of poetry - of literature - of words. For a long time, we've focused here at Wonderland on finding the joy and playfulness and depth of words through the lens of the young adult world of words, but for a long time, both of us have been struggling to keep up. YA and Children's Lit is mercurial - a new trend comes along every six minutes, and it's always something else - the next big new thing to top the charts.

Sometimes reading YA lit feels a lot like being still in high school.

Did you read Joel Stein's piece in the NY Times? Here is this gorgeous, intelligent person who is embarrassed by adults reading kids' books. He can't take people seriously who read The Hunger Games or Twilight. Suddenly, in the eyes of someone younger and on the cusp of his career, we're seeing ourselves a little differently - maybe in ways we should have been looking at ourselves all along.

Like making clothes for your Barbie that last year of junior high, young adult literature has become a guilty pleasure. But, if we truly believe that there's power and beauty in words, then it's the right move to embrace them - as an adult, in an adult sphere. It's time to reenlist the classics in helping us make sense of the world, and use the full range of our collective minds to embrace the power and potency of literature.

So pardon our dust as we reconfigure and reconstruct and rebrand ourselves into something new. We've looked for wonderland long enough. Now we're finding adulthood, and we welcome you to come along for the ride.

Best,
T&S

WEEKEND WORD: ON PRIVACY: TED Talks...

Like many in the blogosphere, I often get videos from TED talks passed to me. I love TED stuff - conversations, since 1984, about the best in Technology, Entertainment, and Design. In some ways, I'm a little torn about their role - I think the conferences are ridiculously elitist, in that it's so prohibitively expensive to attend them that only the über rich do, and in that way sort of create themselves (dominant culture, male, AND the 1%) as the leaders in the field of "spreading ideas." On the other hand, I appreciate that TED invites thinkers to speak to them from every field and also that they always encapsulate the messages the thinkers present via free and easily accessible video media, worldwide. So, there's that.

Anyway.

Because Tech Boy's doctoral dissertation is on information management and media, I'm familiar with Sherry Turkle, author and director of MIT's initiative on Technology & Self. What she said about privacy struck chords with me - big, ringing chords, like tolling bells.

Whether the bells are tolling, TOO LATE TOO LATE TOO LATE or some other message, however, remains to be seen. Think on this:

From NPR's All Tech Considered:

"We like to say that we grew up with the Internet, thus we think that the Internet is all grown up. But it's not. The problem is that we have not created a privacy culture on the Internet that we can live with. We created the wrong one. What I think about is: What is intimacy without privacy? What is a democracy without privacy? We weren't asking those two questions when this was created and we bequeathed to our children this culture then we shrug, 'they don't care about privacy.'

"I was trained to care about privacy. My grandmother of Eastern European descent used to marvel at the mail. The idea that you were in a country where mail was sacrosanct... that to tamper with the mail was a federal offense, to her, this was one of the great things about being an American. What drives me crazy is that people turn to these babies, these children and say, 'They don't care about privacy.' But it was our responsibility to teach them.

"[Facebook CEO] ]Mark Zuckerberg says privacy is no longer a social norm. When he said that, I tweeted — and I never tweet, that's how angry I was — it may not be relevant for the social network, but it is for intimacy and democracy. Technology makes people stupid. It can blind you to what your underlying values are and need to be. Are we really willing to give away our Constitutional and civil liberties that we fought so hard for? People shed blood for this, to not live in a surveillance society. We looked at the Stasi and said, 'That's not us.' And now we let Apple do it and Google do it? For what?"

Turkles message resonates with me because I'm old enough to have been taught voting by "secret ballot." In many ways, the political ...contagion brought about by media saturation and social, wherein we now know what everyone else thinks about everything, is kind of scary to me - I was raised believing that political stuff, like religion, was a matter of intense personal belief, and thus deeply private. In many ways, I still view myself as an educator, so these things matter to me, on behalf of the teens with whom I interact, and on behalf of myself. Who do we want to be, as writers and bloggers and people, online? Who do we want to be seen as? Or, does that no longer matter, since it seems that we're seen whatever we do? Is there any going back from the edge of this cliff??

Talk amongst yourselves.

The Edge in Fiction, or: Why Safe Books Are Dead Books

Welcome to our humble stop on the blog tour for Ashley Hope Pérez's latest novel, The Knife and the Butterfly, out now from Carolrhoda Books. We posted an in-depth review on Monday and on Wednesday a follow-up chat on the overarching ideas Ashley is covering during her blog tour. Today we've got some thoughts from the author herself on what it means to write a book with an edge--and what it doesn't mean.

A brief bio to begin: Ashley Hope Pérez is the author of two young adult novels, WHAT CAN'T WAIT and THE KNIFE AND THE BUTTERFLY. She also is a passionate teacher and student working on her PhD in comparative literature. At the moment, she lives in Paris with her husband and son where they enjoy culture, croissants, and cramped living quarters.

With no further ado, here's Ashley:

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The term “edgy” is flying around in talk about The Knife and the Butterfly and the voice in which it’s told. And trust me, I’m thrilled that I (cautious rule-follower to the max in all other areas) have pulled off writing in the voice of a 15-year-old boy who happens to be homeless, in trouble with the law, and caught up in a gang.

What’s the one thing that would make me happier? If I could give “edgy” the particular edge it has for me.

The thing is, the edge that interests me most has little to do with sex or gangs or profanity. These are, in my view, simply accidents of my characters’ world (think: inner-city, no safety nets). Sometimes when I’m talking about this aspect of The Knife and the Butterfly, I feel like a woman giving a tour of a house she’s renting: “I know, I know, I wish the wallpaper in here were nicer, but this is what I’ve got to work with.”

The world of The Knife and the Butterfly is, indeed, a world on loan. It’s borrowed from the news (the gang fight that opens the novel was inspired by an actual event in Houston). It’s borrowed from the alleys and taquerías and run-down parks that I scoped out while writing. It’s borrowed from interviews with Houston teens and MS-13 members that I read.

Now, this is where I could say, “the book has to be rough because the world it’s about is rough.” There’s plenty of truth to that, but it’s not the truth I want to take up right now. And my novel, like all fiction, is far from a facsimile of the actual world. The cussing is scaled WAY back from reality (for a teen like Azael), and most of the violence and sexual stuff in The Knife and the Butterfly is thematic, not explicit or graphic.

What if we think about the “edge” in a new way? What if it’s not so much about the themes and material in the book but rather about how that book and a real reader relate?

Here’s the edge that really matters in YA (and in all fiction): the way something a book can take the reader by surprise, almost violently. Not in a “I can’t believe the butler did it” way, but in a “nothing could have prepared me for how X would affect me” way.

In that previous sentence, X stands for the edge. It might be the beauty of language (or its deliberate plainness), a character, or even a turn in the plot. The important thing is that a truly edgy book doesn’t leave us intact; it makes us vulnerable to something—an emotion, a thought, a realization, a fear, a discovery, a way of seeing—and it forces us to reckon with it. Certainly this edge is different for different readers, even when they are reading the same book, but we all need it to evolve our reading lives.

I doubt that I need to remind anyone of the whole debate sparked by Meghan Cox Gurdon’s Wall Street Journal article, “Darkness Too Visible.” (If you have no idea what I’m talking about or want to know my take, look at this or this.) The only thing that I want to bring back from that piece was the longing—false nostalgia, even—for safety in books. As a parent, I understand this feeling. Really, I do. But I am more than just a parent. I am a reader, a writer, and a student of literature, and in those roles, I have come to believe that safe books are inert books, dead books.

If we feel 100% safe with what we’re reading, if we meticulously avoid the chance of encountering the edge, we’re very unlikely to be deeply affected by our reading. There has to be an element of risk and exposure in the reading relationship if anything very profound is going to occur. A great book is not a safe place for the reader.

Don’t misunderstand me. An edgy book needn’t be dark or peppered with profanity. But there must be something about the book that takes the reader to a place she could not have said, in advance, that she wanted to go.

That something is the edge I hope readers will find in my writing. The rest… it’s just wallpaper.

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Thanks so much, Ashley, for stopping by and sharing your writerly thoughts! And, for readers of this post, you can visit Ashley's blog, follow her on twitter @ashleyhopeperez, or find her on facebook.

Watch for more insights into the writing of the novel throughout Ashley's The Knife and the Butterfly blog tour. See the full tour schedule here.

You can buy The Knife and the Butterfly from your favorite local bookseller or order it online.

Is It Just Me, Or...

Soooo, Charlaine Harris announced to USA Today that she's soon leaving the whole Sookie Stackhouse/vampire/HBO True Blood thingy behind, and... guess what?

Aww, you guessed. Writing a YA novel - a graphic, in collaboration with Christopher Golden.

While I don't argue with any writer's urge to write the next thing -- heck, I hate anyone trying to limit me to the last genre I dabbled in -- I do have a question: is it just me, or lately does it seem like YA is everyone's next career move? And what sort of baffles me/chaps my hide is the description of said YA novel:

Cemetery Girl will combine fantasy and paranormal mystery to tell the story of a teenaged girl with amnesia who has grown up living alone in amid the gravestones.

Again, is it just me, or did Our Neil already write a novel with basically the same premise called The Graveyard Book...?

Publishers are said to be counting on Stackhouse's huge, massive, NYT-Bestselling-for-weeks-on-end following to follow her to YA graphic novels.

Hm.

Via Heroes & Heartbreakers.

Postscript: In MUCH COOLER NEWS, Shannon Hale has come out with a SEQUEL to THE PRINCESS ACADEMY!!!

Color me pleased.

YA Saves. That's All There Is To It.

Yep, more controversy in the YA writing world! As if you needed more. (Come on. You know you love it. NOT.)

The tagline to a recent article in the Wall Street Journal by Meghan Cox Gurdon reads: "Contemporary fiction for teens is rife with explicit abuse, violence and depravity. Why is this considered a good idea?" Rife! Depravity! That's right, we're a cesspool over here, just itching to inflict our negative moral values on the innocent, sponge-like brains of your children.

I couldn't bear to finish reading the article myself, but I got an excellent overview from Liz B. over at A Chair, A Fireplace, and A Tea Cozy. Liz says: "Some kids in terrible circumstances read about kids in terrible circumstances and find comfort and hope, even in the bleakest book; others live it, so don’t want to read it. Some read for windows; some, for mirrors."

Cheryl Rainfield, whose book SCARS was named in the WSJ article, had this to say: "I think what helps us bring good into the world, and stop the things that hurt people so much, is to talk about the darkness, bring it out into the open, and encourage healing, compassion, and love. Not by hiding it."

On the L.A. Review of Books blog, Cecil Castellucci said: "Gurdon’s article in the WSJ seems to imply that these kinds of dark books should be cleared off the shelf and that good clean books with less objectionable content should be there instead. And that the publishing industry, in the name of sales, pushes these kinds of books to pervier and pervier extremes and then cries censorship if called on it." She has a lot of other great stuff to say on the topic, too.

And these are far from the only voices speaking out. Check out the Twitter hashtag #YAsaves for more links and comments.

Well, Allrighty, Then

Writers always worry about things.

Straight writers worry about how to portray gay characters.
Caucasian writers wonder if they should attempt to portray characters of other ethnicities, while those outside of the dominant culture wonder if they're not representing if they don't write solely about their own culture.
Female writers worry about writing males -- and often are told they're stripping them of testosterone, while male writers tiptoe when writing female characters, and wait for the firestorm of female protest.

Writers always worry about things.

Some do, anyway. Others make bold sweeping statements like,I'm a good boy writer, and no girl writer is as good as me, nyah, nyah. Or, if they're the Indian author V.S. Naipaul, they say that there is no woman writer whom he considers his equal – and then single out Jane Austen as someone with whom he could never share such sentimentalism. Naipaul also said that women are never fully masters of their house, and that comes out in all of women's literature, AND that if you give him a paragraph or two, he can pick out anything that a woman has written.

Um. Yeah. First of all? Our Jane wrote in the 19th century. That time is past, and none of us is ever going to be quite as innocent and sentimental as the people of that time. It has nothing to do with gender, and everything to do with the fact that there were no iPhones. Secondly, I had to read Naipaul for grad school. He is not sentiment free. I'm just sayin'. Thirdly, Naipaul wrote about colonialism. The South Asian characters whom he depicted were usually under the thumb of the British (or their wives, parents, mother-in-laws, or all of the above) and not in charge of their lives nor their households at times -- and yet: he is not a girl.

But what made me happy just now was seeing how the Guardian cheerfully challenged his statement about being able to tell gender in writing. They put together a little test. Try your hand at it. Can YOU always tell?

(I can't. I am, apparently, guilty of sloppy thinking, and should read more books by men...)

Meanwhile, writers are still worrying about everything. If you want to "man up" (oh, I hate that phrase, what the heck does it mean?)(No, don't try to explain, it's self-evident. It's still stupid, however) or "girly down" your characters, you can use the Gender Genie, but really - the trick is to have others read for you, read your work aloud, and understand that there isn't always an identifiable "thing" that males or females do. Just... write your characters as best you can, and carry on.

Stop worrying, k?

Who, Why, Whither YA?

Another thought-provoking post from Hannah Moskowitz (via Nathan Bransford's Twitter feed), this one on whether/how the internet blogging/writing community is changing the nature of YA: "Are we getting too self-referential to be relevant?" she asks, among other things.

To put it plainly, I'm starting to wonder if YA is turning into something written by/for the internet community under the guise of writing for everyday teenagers, and that who likes you on the internet is more important to your career--or, if not to your career, to your psyche and your perception of your success--than if teenagers are picking up your book.

She also asks, "how closely does our taste reflect that of an actual teenager?" and brings up the thought that "it looks to me like we're letting it become books about teenagers and for adults rather than about teenagers for teenagers, and the way we're going, I don't think that's going to change."

All interesting points. With 76 comments in response, I didn't feel I had the time to read the whole discussion. But I did want to post a few musings of my own, because I'm prickly that way. And speaking of the "not having time" issues, that was one of my reactions: The social aspects of the community are something I love--it's friendly, it's open and it's not out to be exclusive or divisive--but in reference to Hannah's (very valid) question about whether we spend so much time on our kidlitosphere community that we're ultimately writing for one another, to impress or entertain one another and only secondarily for an elusive teenage audience we may or may not be connecting with....well.

I can't speak for others, but honestly, it's ALL I CAN DO to stay on top of just writing the damn books and revising them and doing everything directly connected to trying to get them published or marketed, and then add to that my other freelance projects which take up a lot of time but are necessary because, hey, an income is good; and then the occasional (bi-weekly, if I'm lucky) blog post and, again if I'm lucky, a weekly perusal of a handful of blogs....I mean, it makes me feel like I'm not even a valid member of the community, for one thing. But I also DON'T feel like I'm writing these just to please my peers rather than a potential teen audience. I hate to sound like an idealist, but I'm hardly even writing these to please the teen audience--I'm writing my stories because those are the stories that come out. (And teenagers happen to come out frequently in my stories because a) I never stopped reading YA, b) YA and children's books influenced my thinking heavily as I was growing up, and c)  I am hopelessly immature in many ways.) 

Maybe it's because of my fine art background and because I'm steeped in the "art for art's sake" philosophy, but it's a lot more useful and productive for me to be a little removed from what others are doing. To look at it--to read voraciously--to learn from it what I can, and then let it go. And only THEN, pick up my pen (or keyboard) and go. It's a doubly good strategy for me personally because I have a terrible habit of comparing my work (usually unfavorably) with the work of others, and that's a sure-fire way to keep me from getting any valuable creative work done.

The other reaction I had to this piece was admittedly a little more nit-picky....in response to the statement about writing books about teenagers but for adults, I couldn't help thinking that YA, in the grand scheme of the literary landscape, is a relatively recent phenomenon. Even when I was growing up, with most of my heavy YA reading taking place in the late 80s and early 90s, there were far fewer "young adult" books, though the number was growing rapidly already. Even thirty-five, forty years ago you had children's books, Judy Blume, and then you "graduated" to adult books. Adolescence only started to be formally studied in the 1940s, and for all intents and purposes was "invented" in the modern era. And so, even the fact that we can pose the question of whether YA books are written with teenagers sufficiently in mind is, in a sense, progress.

And so I'm actually fairly optimistic about this. That is, if we as writers continue to write with awareness of WHO we want to reach, as well as remaining true to the stories we want to tell, I think we'll muddle through OK. I'm happy to leave it up to historians or librarians or literature PhD's to do the classification and analysis. Speaking for myself--my job, in this life, is just to create.