a good day for

Yesterday, I drove out to Mrs. Nelson's Book Shop to lurk in the shadows and watch all these amazing kids receive awards for their submissions to the 2010 Young Writers Contest.

It was quite an uplifting experience, because I could tell how excited these kids -- who ranged in age from 5 to 18 -- were about writing and what they had been able to do. And there were tons of parents and family members there, too, which speaks well to the quiet acceptance of having kids who are actually artistically inclined.

The horror. Where's math and science in all this? Aren't you people afraid... of China or something?

And Mrs. Nelson's did something (well, lots of things) really cool, too: They published and bound the winning submissions in a hardcover book that was given to the winning kids.

The quality that I noticed most in the kids' writing was voice. This is something that adult writers need to pay closer attention to, because it can't be something contrived, generic, or false. Readers can see through that right away and you simply will not be able to "sell" your story to them (and I don't mean cha-ching sell). Voice is the ineffable bridge that connects the reader to the author: you either have it or you don't.

Sometimes, I imagine, readers will hang in there with a story that has a weak voice just because the plot elements are exciting. I've seen -- and read -- more than a few books that have recently been released that have that weak voice/interesting complications mix, and they are not very satisfying to me. Usually, I won't finish a book that suffers from this imbalance. Sometimes I do, but it is so unsatisfying. And I really wish I could name names, just so you would say oh yeah... you're right, but I am a devout believer in literary karma.

Anyway, back to the kids. Two of the boys I coached this year were recognized at the awards ceremony, and I really liked their stories. A lot. In fact, I'd kind of like to beat them both up for being so much better at writing with voice than I was at their age, and I knew I wanted to be a writer then, too, but these guys are, like, I don't know what I want to do... and I want to shake them and say TELL ME YOU'RE GOING TO BE A WRITER WHEN YOU GROW UP.

Okay. Well, Paul wrote a story about guilt and bravery called The Wild Boys, about going to an oppressive all-boys school with his brother in Nigeria; and Corey wrote a story about religious confusion called The Prophet, about a freaky subway ride with a stranger. And I'll be honest: when I read their first drafts, way back in February, I knew they were going to do something.

Nice work, guys.

the story of the arc

Now that it's officially summer vacation time for me, I suppose I really should start writing something. I mean, I had two serious projects going, but decided to stop because I've been in a bad mood for, like, four months.

It's not like it matters, anyway. My next book is coming out in 155 days, and the one coming out in 2011 (let's estimate 525 days from now) has already been written.

Do you know how many books I can write in 525 days? Do you know how many cockroaches can be spawned from a single egg-laden female cockroach in 525 days?

The world turns, my friends. The world turns.

I kind of want to punch myself in the face for saying that.

Maybe I should go get a job at a theme park. But theme parks usually hire bubbly people, so that kind of rules me out on the spot. Maybe they should open a Jean-Paul Sartre World in France, where all the employees can smoke those little French cigarettes and express their unrestrained contempt for other people, give prizes to children who vomit, and all the rides lead into black holes with -- predictably -- no exit ramps.

So, let me tell you about the story of the ARC. When my first two books came out, I gave out ARCs like crazy. I sent them to librarians, teachers, bloggers (I know. What an idiot.)... you name it -- anyone who pretty much had a pulse and asked. Oh, and family and friends, of course.

This go-round, though, for The Marbury Lens, I was, like, forget it. As soon as I got my little box of ARCs, I gave them out. To kids. Which left a lot of people asking me when they were going to get theirs, too. I just shrug and say, well, it's not coming out until November. Do you know how many cockroaches will be born between now and November?

The thing is, and I have to be precise in how I say this, that probably around 90% of the ARCs I have ever sent out -- including those to close friends and family -- I never hear one word of follow-up. These are examples of things I don't hear 90% of the time:

Thanks for the ARC!

Your book makes me want to punch myself in the face. I can't believe I wasted my life reading it.

I didn't read your book, but I gave it to my nephew that I don't like for Christmas.

I liked your book! Thanks for sending it!

Usually I hear nothing. Just the sound of cockroaches. Breeding.

I asked a writer friend of mine (not the one you think... and it's probably not you, if you think it is) about this observation, and she said, yeah... come to think of it, about 90% of the people she'd ever sent ARCs to never said a single word in response, either.

Good or bad, I think we writers all want to hear what people think about our work. Of course, the bad stuff can be pretty painful. But it's kind of like handing in something you've worked really hard on to a teacher at school. You at least want to hear them say, "nice job," or something... as opposed to, say, just dropping it in some slot and then... nothing.

So, if you've been getting pissed off at me for ig-switching your plea for an ARC of my next book, I'm just not into it anymore. I'd rather smoke cigarettes and watch kids vomit (but I do not smoke), or punch myself in the face.

Now... I'm not saying EVERYBODY. Some people are really cool and say thanks, or tell me what they liked or what troubled them about my work. But not very many people -- in the overall scheme of things -- take the time to do that... especially close friends and family, whom, I suppose, feel like they don't actually "need" to say anything because we're friends. Or family.

I don't mean to sound whiney. I'm not a whiney person. And today, I'm not bubbly, either.

SATurday

Today, my son, who is now in grade 12, is taking his SAT. I'm sure he's going to do well. He knows I will no longer continue feeding him if he does not.

My daughter, who is not yet out of school for summer due to the snow days we had this year, so is still in grade 7, is doing some volunteer work for kids with cancer.

Tomorrow morning, I am heading out to Mrs. Nelson's Book Shop to see their awards ceremony for the 2010 Young Writer's Contest. Hopefully, the kids I coached will make it out, too. Mrs. Nelson's really does something great and amazing for kids who want to write -- so if you're not too busy on a beautiful Sunday, you should head out to one of the great independent bookstores in Southern California.

Finally, on this day of scattered announcements, The Marbury Lens got a passing shout-out yesterday in Publishers Weekly in their coverage of BookExpo America 2010: Big Children's Books of the Show. You have to look in the "New in Novels" section and not blink.

But it's there.

Thanks, PW.

cover story

Some of you may remember back when I wrote a series about why I hate YA (YI H8 YA), which was a tongue-in-cheek look at some of the obvious warts and frailties of the genre. Of course I don't actually hate YA. I just sometimes wish that the people who spend so much time writing about YA would grow up and stop being so closed-minded.

You know who you are.

So, I've been looking at the Goodreads list for Best YA Covers of 2010, which has now grown to nearly 200 covers (with Rich Deas's incredible artwork for The Marbury Lens at number 35 last I checked), and, with the help of some friends who analyzed the images, we broke down the components of YA cover art and found some... eh... predictable trends.

Here's what we did:

We looked through the first 130 titles on the list and broke down the images depicted on the book covers. We could only do the first 130 or so because we ran into a rear-guard of semi-porn showing bedded couples and we started laughing so hard we gave up digging any deeper. But, once we arrived at our breaking point, we got these fairly interesting totals:

• Of the covers whose main image was an independent, single character, 66 depicted solitary girls. 66 independent girl covers.

• Not all the covers depicted characters. Some of them had only "things" on them. Often, these "things" were dripping with blood, which, most definitely, boys would like. Also, one cover had a jellyfish on it, which was cool. We agreed that a boy would probably pick up a book with a jellyfish on the cover. Jellyfish are commonly hermaphroditic. One independent hermaphrodite cover.
  

• Of the covers whose main image was an independent, single character, 3 depicted solitary boys. One of the covers, we couldn't tell whether it was a girl or a boy. That could be a good thing, who knows? We argued about the manliness of the hands. So we didn't count that one either way. Also, the jury was kind of "hung" over the cover of Michael Grant's Lies. We argued about the idea of independent and single characters. We were pleased Sam changed his shirt finally, and that he was wearing one at all, and also not making out with Astrid. 3 independent boy covers.

• And, speaking of making out, we found 18 covers with boys and girls suggestively tangled up together in one way or another. If you're a boy, and on the cover of a YA novel, you're 6 times more likely to be "getting some" than standing on your own. If you're a girl, you're much more likely to be on your own than making out. Boys are cover sluts.
  

• And, speaking of sex, there were 8 covers that showed boys with their shirts off. Some of them were making out, too. Alas, none of the covers had girls with their shirts off. And you wonder why boys don't read? If you can't afford a shirt, how are you going to buy a book? Get those poor kids some clothes.
  

• Nine covers depicted boys -- or males -- as some kind of monster or non-human creature. Boys are more likely to be monsters than independent characters. But they are more likely to make out with a girl than be a monster, which they do about as frequently as losing half their clothing.
  

What does it all mean? I don't know.. maybe nothing. But if aliens ever came down and destroyed our planet in such a way that nothing was left at all except for a shelf of current YA titles in the burned-out husk of a brick-and-mortar bookstore (preferably indie), what kinds of determinations do you think the aliens would make about our culture and society?

And if any of you librarian, teacher, book-lover types out there are wringing your hands about the "dumber gender" and why boys don't read, take a good long look at what the aliens are going to find after the flames cool down.

the last day

george and me

Okay. Somebody started an "Andrew Smith looks like George Clooney" group on Facebook.

Really?

I do have to say that the side-by-side black-and-white mugshots are haunting.

As a notorious non-joiner, I refuse to join the group. And, besides, if the outrageous claim upon which this organization is predicated were actually true, then we could simply extend the logical determination that George Clooney, therefore, looks like Gertrude Stein and could reasonably be cast as lead in the cinematic adaptation of either "The Gertrude Stein Story," or the remake of the French absurdist, "The Guy Who Looked Like Gertrude Stein and Got Tasered in Front of a Urinal at a Writer's Conference."

So, yesterday, I got an email from my editor, asking me if I knew about the Kentucky Bluegrass Award listing. And, well, to be honest... I think she said something about that to me when I was in New York last time, but, with me, if it's not written down I rarely have any grasp of what I'm being told.

And, yes, it is also true that In the Path of Falling Objects is on the award's Master List for the 2011 Kentucky Book Award in the high school division.

This is quite an honor for me and my book, and it's a cool award because it's something that's voted on by the kids in Kentucky. And there are only 10 books on the list. And In the Path of Falling Objects is a really good book, but I say that in the most self-effacing, non-stuck-up way imaginable.

And, if the book actually wins the top award next year, I have heard from George Clooney's people that he will accept it on my behalf, which is fine with me because George Clooney has no idea what it's like getting tasered in a urinal for wearing a crayoned-in credentials badge.

here we go

The Southern California Children's Literature Council sent me a list of their 2010 Awards recipients, so I thought I'd share them here:

Kathleen Krull - Best Biography Duo

Albert Einstein, Illustrated by Boris Kulikov (Viking, 2009).

The Boy Who Invented TV, Illustrated by Greg Couch (Knopf Books for Young Readers, 2009).

Marla Frazee - Most Magnificently Illustrated Picture Book

All the World, Written by Elizabeth Garton Scanlon (Beach Lane Books, 2009).

Andrew Smith - Distinguished Work of Fiction

In the Path of Falling Objects (Feiwel & Friends, 2009).

Mary E. Pearson – Peggy Miller Award for Young Adult Literature

The Miles Between (Henry Holt and Co., 2009).

Hope Anita Smith – Myra Cohn Livingston Award for Poetry

Mother Poems (Henry Holt and Co., 2009).

Maureen Wade – Dorothy C. McKenzie Award for Distinguished Service to the Field of Children’s Literature.

And, here's something I noticed, too. Something to kind of ponder on: I mentioned before that The Marbury Lens was on a list of Best YA Book Covers for 2010 on Goodreads. Again, this has nothing to do with me -- I did the inside stuff. The very talented Rich Deas did the amazing cover, which is, undoubtedly, the best cover design for 2010.

Anyway, the thing that struck me is that of 107 titles on the list, The Marbury Lens is currently at number 40. It is the highest-rated title written by a guy. And, of the 107 titles represented on the list, there are (unless I've miscounted) 11 male authors represented.

Of the cover art on the list, there are almost NO covers that depict male characters on them at all. If there are males on the covers, they are either NOT human beings, in the process of kissing a girl, or have their shirts off. Notable exceptions: two covers -- Lies by Michael Grant, and The Marbury Lens.

Humans. Not Kissing. Fully Clothed.

2 of 107.

Gotta ask -- What's up with that?

Just something to think about.