I've been giving this subject a lot of thought lately.
As I go through the "wish lists" of agents, where they state in their profiles what exactly they are looking for, the amount of agents looking for YA fiction is pretty overwhelming. I suppose this could probably be attributed to the Harry Potter and Twilight crazes, but if that's what they're looking for, I'd guess that is what is selling. I'm sure the agents have their finger on the pulse of the market. So, I'm leaning toward marketing the current book I'm writing as YA fiction.
While I'm writing it, there have been things I've had to do to not cross over into commercial fiction, but as a larger concept, I think there is a pretty fine line between YA and "adult" fiction anymore. Perhaps the vocabulary is a bit understated in YA fiction, and maybe there are A FEW subjects that aren't broached...but even in those categories, I think the current generation of YA readers needs to be given more credit.
It's not that vampires and wizards aren't entertaining, but what is to say that a book can't be YA fiction if it covers pregnancy, marriage, sex, drugs, alcohol or anything of the sort? I know a lot has changed since I was a teenager, but it seems that these days, people in that age group probably know more about those things than even their parents do. Albeit, we all thought we did at that point in our lives, but for the first time ever, it might actually be true.
I've been shocked lately as I've watched episodes of True Life and Teen Mom on MTV as I watch what these "teenagers" have to endure before they are even old enough to take a sip of alcohol. Many of them have children, have been in rehab and have endured things some people in their 50's and 60's know nothing about. So, perhaps, they COULD relate to more mature subjects and we just aren't feeding them what they need. I don't see many YA books that address those issues, even on a fictional level.
Perhaps at this point, the only subjects that would be "off limits" in YA books are those which they might not find interesting, such as college being as they haven't reached that point in their lives, or politics since it's unusual to be into politics before one can actually vote, but as for the rest, I think they should have the option to read stories about the things that are affecting their lives the same way that adults do.
I think that genre is undergoing an evolution...or at least its readers are, which makes it an exciting time to be a writer, especially one who is looking to enter that particular arena.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Halloween and My First "Book"
With Halloween approaching quickly (it was just summer--how did that happen?), I was thinking about the first "book" I ever wrote :)
I always had a passion for writing...I used to write poetry even as a very young child...in fact, I wrote some poems that were so intense, I think my parents might have wondered what the heck was going on in that little head of mine. Often, I would watch Jerry Springer and being so young that I actually believed the storylines, and so sensitive that I felt bad for the people, I would often write poems about the pain I thought they were feeling... had the scenarios been real...and I was like seven :)
So anyway, my first book was around that same time. Technically, I guess I could say that means I've been a novel writer for over twenty years...nevermind, that makes me feel old! I'll go with when I wrote my first REAL novel, which was two years ago...there, that feels much better.
I was SO proud of my little book, though. I actually illustrated it, too, which I'm happy to highlight...even if prospective agents or publishers are reading this is NOT my strong point. I drew a little witch and I think there was a dog/dinosaur looking thing that popped up on every few pages, but the story was mainly about the witch, so by about the fifteenth page, I had that drawing nailed. I actually remember most of the story, but....and I'm sorry if the suspense becomes too much...I'm going to try to dig it up because my Mother is Italian, so something tells me it's still in a drawer somewhere :)
I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I've always known what I wanted to do...it just took me awhile to get the courage to finally commit to going down that path and not looking back. If I do find this story and post it, you will also see that I had passion at a young age, but I wasn't necessarily a prodigy...let's just say if I post this story, it will be for the same reason I posted that disaster of a rejection letter...to make you smile and for no other reason :)
I always had a passion for writing...I used to write poetry even as a very young child...in fact, I wrote some poems that were so intense, I think my parents might have wondered what the heck was going on in that little head of mine. Often, I would watch Jerry Springer and being so young that I actually believed the storylines, and so sensitive that I felt bad for the people, I would often write poems about the pain I thought they were feeling... had the scenarios been real...and I was like seven :)
So anyway, my first book was around that same time. Technically, I guess I could say that means I've been a novel writer for over twenty years...nevermind, that makes me feel old! I'll go with when I wrote my first REAL novel, which was two years ago...there, that feels much better.
I was SO proud of my little book, though. I actually illustrated it, too, which I'm happy to highlight...even if prospective agents or publishers are reading this is NOT my strong point. I drew a little witch and I think there was a dog/dinosaur looking thing that popped up on every few pages, but the story was mainly about the witch, so by about the fifteenth page, I had that drawing nailed. I actually remember most of the story, but....and I'm sorry if the suspense becomes too much...I'm going to try to dig it up because my Mother is Italian, so something tells me it's still in a drawer somewhere :)
I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I've always known what I wanted to do...it just took me awhile to get the courage to finally commit to going down that path and not looking back. If I do find this story and post it, you will also see that I had passion at a young age, but I wasn't necessarily a prodigy...let's just say if I post this story, it will be for the same reason I posted that disaster of a rejection letter...to make you smile and for no other reason :)
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Special Surprise...Preview of a New Book
So, I've been working on another book and I thought I'd share part of it on here. I'm really excited about it and the plot has some very exciting twists and turns. I haven't done any editing yet, so bear with me :) But here is a sneak peak...
As the final preparations were being made, the executioner became increasingly nervous. He felt as if he were the one awaiting his own death rather than that of Prisoner #6602. Although hidden behind a black cloak, he felt naked in front of the crowd of witnesses. The cloak was something they always wore so that neither the chosen witnesses, the prisoner, nor any media reporters could identify the executioner. Only he, the warden and his accomplices knew his identity.
None of the others had the luxury of anonymity. A four by eight foot window framed their faces and entire bodies for the viewing crowd. In addition, their credentials were worn in a plastic pouch on their sleeves and their full names were embroidered above their breast pocket. It didn’t matter, though. They had nothing to hide. Nobody cared who buckled the final straps or who checked the pulse, or lack thereof, after the fact. It was the one who pushed the button who needed to be concealed. Hence, the executioner’s cloak.
They were accompanied by other prison officials who were not part of the plan, which was going to make things much more difficult, but not impossible. The first time they had tried this, it failed. There were too many variables and they hadn’t planned carefully enough. Fortunately, only they knew that they had failed. To everyone else, including the warden and viewing group, everything went according to plan. This time, though, they were ready.
Only the executioner and his accomplices were aware of the plan. They were paid off well enough so the executioner knew they would all keep their mouths shut. Prisoner #6602 himself didn’t even know about the plan, and they wanted it that way. While it might seem safe to confide in an inmate on death row who is mere minutes away from being executed, the executioner and his accomplices knew otherwise. They couldn’t take a chance of having this plot be exposed. They had worked too hard, for too long, on perfecting the procedure and the plan. They simply couldn’t risk it. Not even for the person they were risking it all because of.
The clock was ticking loudly, painfully loud, as it drew closer to midnight. They always carried out the sentences at midnight. The executioner knew he couldn’t linger in the chamber. He did one last quick check to make sure his accomplices had done as they were supposed to do. He looked over at the EKG machine. He discreetly checked for the white dot on the back to ensure it was the right machine.
It was.
He made his way to the anteroom, the room behind the chamber where the lethal cocktails were stored and administered from. He checked for the white dot on the bottom of the IV solutions. He pretended to merely be examining each bag for holes or other impurities so those around him wouldn’t know what he was doing. They seemed to be oblivious to his actions anyway.
During executions, everyone was always in sort of a zombie-like state. The prison staff, the witnesses, the execution team, even the condemned was generally quiet and reflective during the preparations. Nobody was particularly thrilled about the fact that a life was about to be ended or that they were about to participate in a murder of sorts. After all, the death certificate did state murder as the cause of death.
Some members of the team had religious or moral objections to the procedure, yet they carried them out as mandated in the capacity of their job function. They presumably made peace with it privately. The handful of those who were happy to be carrying out the execution didn’t show it. They couldn’t. The mood in the room was solemn, the witnesses were silent by order and the air was made thick by the impending death. Showing exuberance during a time like that would have likely resulted in some sort of repercussions either by the other witnesses or prison officials.
Surprisingly, even the family members of the victims were almost always quiet and buttoned up during the procedure. The executioner presumed this was more because of the reason they were there than the fact that they were actually mournful over the death of the convicted. After all, this whole event was taking place because they themselves had lost someone they loved. They had been profoundly hurt in a life-altering way by the events leading up to this. There was certainly no joy in that. Closure, perhaps, but joy? Doubtful.
The time was drawing closer. The warden assembled the team and quickly briefed them.
“Gentlemen,” he said. “I presume all final preparations have commenced.”
He looked to the prison officials responsible for handling those tasks, the executioner’s accomplices, and they nodded. The executioner worried that they nodded a little too emphatically, which worried him. Fortunately, the warden didn’t take notice of it. He wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. He was all too aware of the phenomenon that occurred when someone was doing something wrong, and that feeling they got where it seemed as if their every movement was being displayed on a giant theater screen with their secrets in big red letters on a marquee below for all to see. He had to trust that nobody who wasn’t supposed to be was privy to his plan. He had to maintain the calm, collected façade that he was crumbling to pieces behind.
“The condemned refused his last meal and is being escorted to us as we speak,” the warden continued, completely devoid of emotion.
The executioner presumed that the warden was one of those who enjoyed putting prisoners to death, yet tried to hide this fact from the rest of the staff. He envisioned him toasting every execution with a flute of champagne when he was in the privacy of his own home. Tonight, he would likely do the same.
“Wilson, will you please make the final call to ensure that a stay has not been granted?” the warden demanded.
“Yes, sir,” Officer Wilson responded as he picked up the phone.
He spoke quietly into the receiver, reading the prisoner’s information from an index card that he held in his hand. He hung up the phone seconds later.
“No stay, sir,” he said to the warden.
“Very well then, does anybody have any questions before we proceed?” the warden asked.
It was a rhetorical question. They had all done this many times, it was just standard procedure to ask if anybody had questions. Not once in the executioner’s career had he ever seen any of the prison officials ask anything during that time.
“All right, then, let’s move. We’ve got a job to do.” The warden said.
Everyone scrambled to their respective positions as he gave the last order. The executioner had his eye on the staff members who went out the side door to meet the escorts and strap Prisoner #6602 to the gurney.
They were not in on the plan. They didn’t need to be.
Before he took his place in the anteroom, the executioner purposely brushed shoulders with one of his accomplices.
“Everything’s set, right?” the executioner asked.
“Everything’s set, right?” the executioner asked.
“I think so,” the accomplice replied.
“You think?” the executioner whispered from under the cloak.
“As much as it can be, we didn’t have much time and there were eyes all over us,” the accomplice responded.
“What about the coroner, and the morgue?” the executioner asked.
“All set,” the accomplice replied.
“If he dies, you die, got it?” the executioner demanded.
“Got it,” the accomplice gulped as he forced the words out of a tightening throat.
The executioner took his place in the anteroom and waited for the condemned to be brought in. A few seconds later, the gurney was wheeled in. The wheels squealed loudly and the executioner damned the sound. If they were wheeling someone to their death, couldn’t they at least do so on a gurney that didn’t scream across every single inch of the floor as it crossed?
The executioner could not see Prisoner #6602’s face. He had seen it many times before, though. Without seeing him today, the executioner could sense his fear. That was good, he had not been tipped off about the plan.
When the gurney squealed into its place in the center of the room, IVs were inserted into the man’s arm, one into each. After they were securely fastened in place, the viewing curtains which had been closed while he was wheeled in were now re-opened.
“Any last words, statements, or testimony?” the warden asked the prisoner.
They didn’t waste any time. Once the gurney was brought in, the process was started immediately. In fact, the IV lines were already flowing with saline when the question was asked. Prisoner #6602 likely didn’t even know how much time he had to spit out his last words.
“Radcliffe. Darren Radcliffe,” the prisoner simply said.
That was not Prisoner #6602’s name. Nobody knew who ‘Darren Radcliffe’ was or what the he meant when he muttered the name.
“Darren Radcliffe?” the warden asked.
“Yes,” the prisoner muttered.
“Care to elaborate?” the warden asked coldly.
“No, sir,” Prisoner #6602 said confidently.
“All right, then. If you have no further words, the intercom to the viewing audience will be disabled and the process will begin.”
The prisoner acknowledged with a slight head nod. He seemed to be at peace with what was about to take place.
The warden exited the chamber and appeared in the anteroom. He tapped the executioner on the shoulder and said, “It’s time, start the sequence.”
He was referring to the sequence of IVs that would deliver the ‘lethal’ part of the lethal injection. The executioner pushed the buttons that corresponded to each of the IV solutions. One by one, he pressed a stiff, shaking finger down on the buttons, praying that the plan would work.
The process was relatively uneventful. Prisoner #6602 kept his eyes closed the whole time and there wasn’t any spectacle of sorts to be seen. After about fifteen minutes, the accomplice went over to the heart rate monitor and checked it. He gestured for the physician to come over and declare a time of death. The physician nodded at the other accomplice as he did this. He put his hand on the wrist of Prisoner #6602 and gestured for the intercom to be turned back on.
“Time of death, 12:17 a.m.,” he said with his hand still on the wrist of the condemned.
The executioner put his hand to his own pocket. His fingers cupped the small device and wanted desperately to pull it out and look at it. When he was sure he wasn’t being watched, he removed it from his pocket and kept it tucked in the palm of his hand as he glanced at it. His stomach almost leapt through his throat as he read the tiny display.
Heart rate, sixty-two beats per minute.
The plan had worked.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Good News!
Well, I guess this is why you select the agents you're going to query very carefully!
As I mentioned, I was extremely picky about who I queried this time. My "more is better" approach that I took when I queried in the past just led to more rejection letters from agents who didn't handle the type of book I wrote, which just wasted my time and theirs. So this time around, I really devoted a LOT of time to playing cupid with my book. I did exhaustive research on agents, I made a preliminary list of those that MIGHT be a good fit, which was about 50 agents and then I did more research still on those 50 agents and ended up cutting that number in half. This was a significant departure from the over 200 I sent out last time, but from a tactical standpoint, I think it was more effective.
How do I know? Because one of the agents that I REALLY had my hopes set on just got back to me. When I say I was eyeing this agent, I mean, I got butterflies when I saw her reply in my inbox. When I talked in an earlier blog about their being a "perfect fit" in terms of an agent for my manuscript, this is what I meant. Anyway, I'll cut to the chase...she expressed an interest and wanted to see more. She also requested an exclusive, which means that now any agents that come back to me and ask me for sample chapters, etc. I will have to be the one saying no to them because my manuscript is in exactly the hands I want it to be in right now :)
Strange, yet amazing turn of events! I will keep you posted!
Happy Friday!!!
As I mentioned, I was extremely picky about who I queried this time. My "more is better" approach that I took when I queried in the past just led to more rejection letters from agents who didn't handle the type of book I wrote, which just wasted my time and theirs. So this time around, I really devoted a LOT of time to playing cupid with my book. I did exhaustive research on agents, I made a preliminary list of those that MIGHT be a good fit, which was about 50 agents and then I did more research still on those 50 agents and ended up cutting that number in half. This was a significant departure from the over 200 I sent out last time, but from a tactical standpoint, I think it was more effective.
How do I know? Because one of the agents that I REALLY had my hopes set on just got back to me. When I say I was eyeing this agent, I mean, I got butterflies when I saw her reply in my inbox. When I talked in an earlier blog about their being a "perfect fit" in terms of an agent for my manuscript, this is what I meant. Anyway, I'll cut to the chase...she expressed an interest and wanted to see more. She also requested an exclusive, which means that now any agents that come back to me and ask me for sample chapters, etc. I will have to be the one saying no to them because my manuscript is in exactly the hands I want it to be in right now :)
Strange, yet amazing turn of events! I will keep you posted!
Happy Friday!!!
Reading Two Books
Since I posted that blog about having trouble reading, I tried forcing myself to read again and I FINALLY found a book that I'm enjoying! In fact, I'm reading two books! Maybe just getting that off my chest actually helped me clear the path in my mind and I'm able to enjoy reading again. Whatever it is, I'm really happy because I missed reading SO much.
The first book I'm reading is an older book by Jodi Picoult called The Pact. What a brilliant writer she is! This book was my breakthrough book. I probably went through three dozen books before I was able to read this book. I read a chapter of one book, a chapter of another and couldn't sink my teeth into anything. I tried different authors, every different genre I could find and nothing struck me. I actually picked this book because I had heard of Jodi Picoult and I thought the spine was eye-catching (yes, my literary friends, this is often my criteria for selecting reading material when I'm in a pinch).
Well, next thing I knew, I was 100 pages into the book and it is now 24 hours later and I think I will be finishing it today. In fact, that is part of the reason why I didn't blog yesterday...I had my head buried in this book! For anybody who is looking for absolutely amazing writing, pick up one of Jodi's books (Sing You Home, House Rules, My Sister's Keeper, Nineteen Minutes--the list goes on!)
The other book I'm reading is a non-fiction book called Zero Limits by Joe Vitale and Ihaleakala Hew Len, PhD. That one was recommended to me and I'm SO glad it was because it's truly enlightening. I had never heard of Dr. Hew Len or Ho'oponopono before this week, but all I have to say is wow :)
So, that's all I have for today. I've actually been doing more reading than I have been writing, but reading has always helped me become a better writer and both of these books are definitely helping me grow as a writer in their own respective ways.
Have a great day everyone!
The first book I'm reading is an older book by Jodi Picoult called The Pact. What a brilliant writer she is! This book was my breakthrough book. I probably went through three dozen books before I was able to read this book. I read a chapter of one book, a chapter of another and couldn't sink my teeth into anything. I tried different authors, every different genre I could find and nothing struck me. I actually picked this book because I had heard of Jodi Picoult and I thought the spine was eye-catching (yes, my literary friends, this is often my criteria for selecting reading material when I'm in a pinch).
Well, next thing I knew, I was 100 pages into the book and it is now 24 hours later and I think I will be finishing it today. In fact, that is part of the reason why I didn't blog yesterday...I had my head buried in this book! For anybody who is looking for absolutely amazing writing, pick up one of Jodi's books (Sing You Home, House Rules, My Sister's Keeper, Nineteen Minutes--the list goes on!)
The other book I'm reading is a non-fiction book called Zero Limits by Joe Vitale and Ihaleakala Hew Len, PhD. That one was recommended to me and I'm SO glad it was because it's truly enlightening. I had never heard of Dr. Hew Len or Ho'oponopono before this week, but all I have to say is wow :)
So, that's all I have for today. I've actually been doing more reading than I have been writing, but reading has always helped me become a better writer and both of these books are definitely helping me grow as a writer in their own respective ways.
Have a great day everyone!
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
New Perspective...The Agent's Point of View
I'll admit it, I've been kind of bummed these past few days because I've been working so hard sending out queries and so far, I've only received rejection letters. So, I was complaining a little bit (ok, a lot) yesterday. It's really incredible, though, how when your mind is open to it, something someone says can take everything you're thinking and turn it on its head.
I was saying how frustrating it is when these agents read my query letter or even my sample chapters and write back with a rejection letter basically telling me my work is not good enough because I feel like they're not giving me a fair chance. I've even blogged about this same concept. Maybe that is what they're saying...but guess what, not a SINGLE rejection letter has said that--not in so many words, not in so few words, not in any kind of cryptic innuendo... nothing of the sort. It was a conclusion I jumped to in this "me vs. them" mindset I was in.
In fact, they might think my work is really great...they might have just been rushing out of the office...they might just be only looking for "Twilight-like" books right now, they might have an assistant reading their stuff and have told them to ONLY bring them stuff that is vampire-esque, which my book is not. Looking at it from that perspective, a rejection letter does not say anything about the quality of my writing. Timing= yes; subject matter= perhaps; market= possibly; quality= no!
It might not even be any of those things. They might just not feel like it's THE BOOK for them and this point in their lives (the subject matter is a bit heavy and controversial)...and that's ok, too. In fact, my favorite author is Sophie Kinsella. I have read every single one of her books, except for one. I don't know why, but the one book of hers, I have picked up and tried to read three times and I am just not identifying with it. Is she a bad writer? Far from it. Do I love her work? Already said I do. But if I was an agent and had received a query letter or sample chapters from that particular book, I might have passed as well...and I might have missed out on something amazing.
The fact of the matter, though, is that a lot of people probably did pass on Sophie Kinsella (Madeleine Wickham as people know her in England), but someone didn't and now hundreds of thousands of people get to read her work. So, I'm hoping that my work will resonate with that one special agent at the right time and my stuff, too, will get out there when it is meant to.
I was saying how frustrating it is when these agents read my query letter or even my sample chapters and write back with a rejection letter basically telling me my work is not good enough because I feel like they're not giving me a fair chance. I've even blogged about this same concept. Maybe that is what they're saying...but guess what, not a SINGLE rejection letter has said that--not in so many words, not in so few words, not in any kind of cryptic innuendo... nothing of the sort. It was a conclusion I jumped to in this "me vs. them" mindset I was in.
In fact, they might think my work is really great...they might have just been rushing out of the office...they might just be only looking for "Twilight-like" books right now, they might have an assistant reading their stuff and have told them to ONLY bring them stuff that is vampire-esque, which my book is not. Looking at it from that perspective, a rejection letter does not say anything about the quality of my writing. Timing= yes; subject matter= perhaps; market= possibly; quality= no!
It might not even be any of those things. They might just not feel like it's THE BOOK for them and this point in their lives (the subject matter is a bit heavy and controversial)...and that's ok, too. In fact, my favorite author is Sophie Kinsella. I have read every single one of her books, except for one. I don't know why, but the one book of hers, I have picked up and tried to read three times and I am just not identifying with it. Is she a bad writer? Far from it. Do I love her work? Already said I do. But if I was an agent and had received a query letter or sample chapters from that particular book, I might have passed as well...and I might have missed out on something amazing.
The fact of the matter, though, is that a lot of people probably did pass on Sophie Kinsella (Madeleine Wickham as people know her in England), but someone didn't and now hundreds of thousands of people get to read her work. So, I'm hoping that my work will resonate with that one special agent at the right time and my stuff, too, will get out there when it is meant to.
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