to the edge

“We were doing something we weren’t supposed to do. We were playing on the roof. He fell off and broke his neck.”

Tommy spit again.

“I played on roofs before. Don’t all boys do that?”

-- From Ghost Medicine

Well, a couple days ago I said something about how boys are risk-takers by nature, and they appreciate that element in the books they read, too. At least, if you're planning on drawing boys (especially reluctant ones) into the read, going toward the edge is frequently necessary. Because all boys do play on roofs, and build forts and have dirt-clod wars, and shoot birds with slingshots. That's just how it goes... and that's why I said the other day that older boys enjoy reading about things that can sometimes make adults feel uncomfortable.

They like the edge.

The thing is, though, that if you're a writer and you start laying out a story that goes toward the edge, you can make some critical mistakes and lose your reader and not even know it's happening.

Here's why:

I'm going to start the explanation with another quote, this one from Pablo Picasso: "Art is never chaste. It ought to be forbidden to ignorant innocents, never allowed into contact with those not sufficiently prepared. Yes, art is dangerous. Where it is chaste, it is not art."

I love that quote. So, the first big mistake I'm talking about is starting off like you're heading toward the edge and then holding back, and doing it in an obvious way that ignores or diminishes essential human characteristics of the readers you hope to reach and the characters you create. Now, I'm not talking about a no-holds-barred, see-how-offensive-you-can-make-your-prose mentality here, but something that skirts honesty is, well... sucky.

Because teenage boys know what's going on... and they know what you're supposed to be saying when, in fact, you're avoiding it. Parents: take a clue. This is a HUGE mistake in communicating with your teens, so why would an author employ the same saccharine method in constructing his work?

Second big mistake of those who would steer toward the edge: the flawless protagonist. I've said before that one of the reasons I like writing novels with young characters is that readers are far more tolerant, forgiving, of flaws and misjudgments from young characters than they are with adult protagonists. Having a protagonist who shows occasional frailties and makes incorrect choices, at least for me, draws me into empathy with the "hero" of the narrative, because I, as a reader, can identify with personal flaws.

Well, I certainly had enough of them when I was growing up. Still do.

And, definitely, all the characters in my books make mistakes... even the characters you're supposed to be rooting for the most.

Believe it or not, there are plenty of "edgy" YA books out there that make those two big mistakes: first, holding back on getting near the essential risk-taking and, in doing so, failing to honestly present the "holistic" experience of the age group; and, second, expecting readers to fully empathize with and root for a robotic protagonist who doesn't have any chinks in his armor. You know... the kind of kid you'd want to beat up if you were in school with him.

the method

In the past week or so, a couple friends have posted bits on their blogs about method, so I thought, since I am at the beginning of writing another novel (number six), that I'd add a bit about the process I go through.

I've written before about outlines, and how I don't use them. When I write a book, I usually begin with a question: What if... and I go from there. Then, I'll think about that question and how it might bounce around against the lives of different characters.

For me, character and voice are probably the most important elements in a novel, and I suppose I'll spend some time in the future blogging about these. But for now, I'll just say that all of my characters have a lot to do with my own life, and maybe that's what contributes most effectively to their believability.

So, after I have that question and my characters worked out in my head, I'll sit down and write out the first pages of the book... maybe around ten or so. Then I'll stop for a while. Once I have that beginning, the general question, and my players, I'll just let it sit in my head for anywhere from a few weeks to a few months. During that time, I will frequently get ideas or visions about the story, and I may jot them down or add them to the file -- just hanging out there like icebergs with no referents that anyone but I can understand. Very frequently, since I can't control when these icebergs will come floating along, I will take my phone out and email them to myself so I don't forget them.

I get a lot of weird emails like that.

But I think I email myself more than anyone else.

Finally, when I'm ready to go (usually this is because I get frustrated after a while just drifting along among all these icebergs), I'll sit down and start the real writing. When this happens, I get pretty manic about my work because I'll actually project a completion date in my mind and I always stick to it.

In about 2 months, I'll have a finished and ready-to-submit manuscript... but I work hard and long hours to do that. The last couple of books I finished took from 5 to 8 weeks to go from that sit-down-and-write-after-the-thinking-phase to being in my editor's and agent's hands.

It's always interesting to me, though, that every author I know goes through an entirely personal and unique process for getting their stories onto paper.

where they go

I received a really good question from my friend Nora the other day, and I thought I would post it and attempt an answer here.

Nora wrote: "I just got to thinking: you say that there need to be more books for guys to read as they get older. I think you're very right. But what are they looking for? Not chick lit, clearly, but instead....what are the ideal qualities? What is it you think they want and aren't finding?"

First off, let me begin by talking a little bit about where high-school-age boy readers go when they want a book to read: It will typically NOT be to their school's library, nor will it be to the YA section in their local bookstore. Why? As I've said before... too much pink; as the question implies, a heck of a lot of chick-lit there. The boy high school students that I talk to (and I'm not going to write about graphic novels here, but they are an important alternative choice for boys) tell me that they will avoid the "teen" section in the bookstore and go right for the Adult Fiction shelves, which are much more boy-friendly.

Here, they'll pick up authors like Stephen King, or James Patterson (currently at #2 on the NYT Adult Fiction list), and while they're in that section, they will also pick up, look at, and maybe get hooked by writers like Tom Rob Smith (whose Child 44 was a bestseller last year and lots of boys read), or the more recent The Doomsday Key (Currently #7) by James Rollins -- just because of the cover and jacket flap.

That's where boys are going.

And that's why so many people -- including authors, teachers, booksellers, reviewers, and librarians -- kind of naturally assume that YA equals books for girls.

I think it's starting to change (I hope), and I'm excited by the incredible enthusiasm I saw evident at ALA when I spoke about writing YA for boys... and there are some really great boy-friendly YA titles coming out in the next few months too (like... I can think of one that takes place in the desolate New Mexico desert, for example). And I'm going to write about some of these new and soon-to-be released titles soon, I promise.

In fact, just yesterday, the publicist at Macmillan forwarded an email to me from an independent bookseller about that particular New Mexico book (called, by the way, in the path of falling objects), and she said:

"I can’t stop thinking about Andrew’s book and I look forward to handselling it to boys who feel there’s nothing out there to interest them."

Well. A new recruit in the army of boy.

Now, as far as the second part of Nora's question -- the one about what boys are looking for, in terms of characteristics/qualities, this may be a tougher one to deal with, but I'm going to give it to you (and remember, keep thinking about why boys bypass the YA section and head toward the Adult Fiction stacks).

Older boys (let's say we're talking readers above the age of 14) do not want preachy books where everything works out perfectly: the bad get punished, and negative things only happen to people who deserve them (because they did something bad -- like drank alcohol or shoplifted or had sex). They want honesty that's not dumbed-down or softened to their youthful sensibilities, and they can handle reading about things that (here's a shocker) some adults can't (like cruelty to animals, for example).

Did you hear me? I'm going to say it again: Older boys can handle reading about things that make some adults uncomfortable.

And they really want that.

Because they are thrilled by risk-taking. Including risk-taking in their reading. And this leads to a whole other blog topic, but I will conclude by saying that, yes, there is a degree of responsibility among writers to present the attraction boys feel toward risk-taking in such a way that we don't become complicit in intentionally self-destructive behavior (which is part of the boy experience -- whether you're talking about skateboarding, driving fast, or any more obvious manifestations of putting yourself in harm's way).

I'll continue this thought coming up. Feel free to open the floodgates of your opposition, or comment as you'd like.

how long is it

One question that comes up again and again when I speak with young writers is how long something should be -- things like books and chapters, I mean.

About this long (holds up gapped fingers).

My usual method is that when I write, I do not separate out any chapters until after I get 40 or so pages finished. Then I'll go back and find the gaps in the narrative that make sense as far as dividing them out into chapters. A book should definitely have its rhythm established by that point, and from then on the chapter breaks become apparent to me.

But for me (and going back to yesterday's musically-themed post), it's all about the rhythm and "sound" of the narrative, and has little to do with word- or page-count.

And I prefer books, like pieces of music, that can maintain a general rhythmic and tonal flow, but then also will take the risk of breaking the predictable pattern and melody from time to time. This creates tension and excitement within the medium of delivery itself, as opposed to confining those elements exclusively in the content (story). I mention this because I am currently reading a book whose rhythm, cadence, melody -- if you will -- plod along incessantly at the exact same metronomic beat. While the story is compelling, the presentation makes me want to skip passages so I can avoid falling asleep at the wheel.

And I keep looking at how many more pages I have to go -- and how all those pages look exactly the same.

Call me weird, but I am a big fan of white space and pages that just "look" different when you thumb-flip through a book. If you do thumb-flip through a 400-page book, and it looks like the page isn't moving, I know I'm in for a snoozer of a delivery, even though the story may be interesting.

Now, of course, this method of writing and finding the rhythm of the chapters couldn't be applied to in the path of falling objects, if nothing else due to the fact that the novel has these jarring voice and POV changes. As a result, there are chapters that can run somewhat long, and there is one chapter, I believe, that only has 13 words in it (and those are three complete sentences, too).

That'll wake you up.

Well, at least that caffeinated delivery happens to work for me.

Now, as far as the length of a book is concerned -- and please do chime in on comments if you're a writer, because so many writers get really "edgy" about this -- I personally wouldn't buy a book that's less than 80,000 words in length. And, yes, I am talking about YA. I know there are LOTS of hugely successful YA authors out there whose books run (to me) short -- at around 50 - 60 K in word count.

But that's not enough for my money. The book I have coming out in 2010 came in at 93,000 words. We'll see if any of that gets trimmed in the next few months (or lengthened -- I'll keep you posted). And, because of the rhythm of the book, it's a very fast read, too. I kind of almost wish it was a bit longer.

But, for me, about 90,000 words is the perfect length for a book -- as long as it doesn't plod musically.

the art of the mix

"Just for the record, I'm a girl who considers herself the all-time reigning queen of the mix. My mixes are legendary... An unexpected mix like this can take you somewhere; it can make you feel nostalgic and renewed or it can completely undo you. But anyone who collects vinyl already knows that..."

-- Yvonne Prinz, The Vinyl Princess

Okay, so, as promised, today I'm kind of going to talk about music, and, in a roundabout way, about this new YA novel that will be coming out in January of 2010 called The Vinyl Princess.

A little more than a week ago, I had a birthday, and I was fortunate enough to receive a specially-created mix CD from the Vinyl Princess herself (and the Veep's identity is a secret). And, like the book that tells her story, this particular mix CD is brimming with hopefulness and life -- a definite trip.

Here's the playlist:

Wait Until You Get to Know Me -- Steve Wynn
June on the West Coast -- Bright Eyes
Run Chicken Run -- The Felice Bros.
Postcard From Mexico -- Kieren Kane, Kevin Welch, and Fats Kaplan
It's Bad You Know -- R.L. Burnside
Jayne's Blue Wish -- Tom Waits
Blue Skies for Everyone -- Bob Schneider
Slow Down -- Cassandra Wilson
You and All of Us -- Hoots and Hellmouth
I Walk the Line -- Live
Path -- Stillhouse Hollow
Indeed in Love -- Quincy Coleman
All You Despise -- The Blue Rags
From the Mouths of Babes -- Old Californio
I Hear a Symphony -- Matthew Ryan
Rack Em Up -- Johnny Lang
Expectation and the Blues -- Corb Lund
Three Penny Charm -- Hoots and Hellmouth
The Departed Tango -- Howard Shore
Johnny Appleseed -- Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros

Okay. Wow.

Just wow.

A mix like that presents moments of paranoia, maybe manic darkness (Wait Until You Get to Know Me, June on the West Coast, Postcard From Mexico, It's Bad You Know, Blue Skies for Everyone, I Hear a Symphony), but they're all framed in by cuts of sheer joy. I especially liked the offerings from the Felice Bros., Old Californio, Matthew Ryan, Hoots and Hellmouth, and the Blue Rags, but this is not to say that each one of the mix's carefully chosen cuts didn't slice open a vein and pour some hot, black-tar American soul into my system.

Thanks, VP! And, if you haven't heard any of these artists or their tunes yet, you're missing out.

I will say that when she sent me the CD, her playlist didn't identify the artist on I Walk the Line (a cover of Johnny Cash's tune on a tribute to Sun Records)... and I'm, like, hey... that's Ed Kowalczyk, the lead singer from Live. Yeah... I was right.

I have to say that ending the mix with Johnny Appleseed... well, I was listening to it in the car, driving home from dinner with my fifteen-year-old son (who's a HUGE fan of The Clash), and we started talking about Joe Strummer. (Oh yeah... that's what the real music was supposed to do for people... make them talk. But the VP realizes how downloads and iPods are killing all of that) It pissed me off telling my son about Joe Strummer. Unfair. Brilliant song.

Brilliant mix.

And the thing is, too, that despite the range of sounds among the tunes on the mix -- from the swamp-rat bluesiness of It's Bad You Know, the swinging croon of Indeed in Love, the Delta folk strains of Run Chicken Run, or the punky Bluegrass of All You Despise, there is something that unites all of these cuts in the essence of our musical experience. Unlike Hip Hop and Rap, the music of "ME," meant to be played on booming systems so loud the world vanishes; or on iPod earbuds that reduce it to the space between your temples, these songs whisper and shout in open-armed honesty, tell huge stories, and are meant to be shared and talked about.

Kind of like The Vinyl Princess -- the book, and the person.

So, when I read an advance copy of The Vinyl Princess, it was kind of like what The VP said about feeling nostalgic and renewed. Anyone who grew up with records and a phonograph will know... I kept wondering what album Allie (the narrator) was going to talk about next, and found myself frequently chuckling at the sideways barbs she'd sometimes poke at certain artists.

Like the VP, I feel a special connection to phonograph LPs -- the way music was supposed to be shaped, held in your hands -- but my collection has reduced over the decades down to a single moving-box full of the LPs and 45s I could never bring myself to part with.

Thanks for the mix, VP. You rock.

food for thought

See what happens? I have all these plans for what I'm going to blog about the next couple of days and then people post these brilliant comments here or via Facebook and all these other "issues" start coming up.

So, I wanted to just take a minute and say how blown away I was by two recent comments: one, Brian James pointed out, was that he'd read about a person in the Bronx who had to take two buses and a subway to get to the nearest place that sold fresh fruits and vegetables; and the second, shared by Yvonne Prinz about how there are NO markets in West Oakland, CA... and that the people who live there basically survive off what they can purchase at the dozens of local liquor stores.

That means people all over the country are eating potato chips and Hostess donuts, and washing it all down with Coke and Pepsi, for a daily meal.

All this came about in the discussion of a goofy television ad about pressuring Congress not to tax soda pop as a means of funding national health care reform. But I thought... crap, if people in America are really living the way Brian described the situation for people in the Bronx, and Yvonne shared the story about the People's Grocery in Oakland, then it's no wonder why we are such a chronically sick, disease-ridden nation.

Sorry. It's pathetic.

I'm not gloating or anything, but the reason I moved up here to the mountains when my daughter was born twelve years ago, is that I wanted to provide my family with some degree of self-sufficiency in this pre-packaged and processed age. See that picture up there? It's what I picked yesterday morning in my back yard, after reading those comments from Brian and Yvonne. We also have our own eggs, and produce a bunch of other stuff as well. We heat our home in the winter with a wood stove and nothing else (even though we have central heating and air conditioning, which we have never turned on). If everything shut down overnight (remember the Y2K panic?), we'd be in pretty decent shape.

Now, I'm not a survivalist by a long stretch, but hearing those East Coast/West Coast horror stories made me realize how fortunate my family and I are. Those stories also made me hungry for a breakfast plum, so I went outside and picked some.

Oh yeah... no pesticides here, or petrochemicals of any kind. We all agree we'd rather eat bugs than poison.

just a cigar

Well, there's lots I want to talk about on the blog. First of all, if you haven't read Brian James' comment on yesterday's post, you should do that. It definitely has me thinking about some important food-related ideas that I'll probably get to later on in the coming week. Yvonne Prinz also made a very impassioned response via Facebook about genetically-modified crops that I want to come back to, as well. But, it's the weekend, so I'm short-posting today and tomorrow so I can get outside and enjoy the amazing place where I live.

Also, on Monday, not to rip Brian's or the Vinyl Princess' style, I am planning on posting a blog about music -- kind of -- with a sort-of-but-not-really review of the YA novel The Vinyl Princess, called (if you've read the book, you'll know what this refers to) "The Art of the Mix."

So... food and music coming up this week. And I still have not revealed the secret destination of my dad-and-kids-alone vacation, and that's coming up, too (because I'll be blogging and uploading pictures from there).

I had a pretty strange dream on Thursday night, and it had to do with my book, in the path of falling objects. In particular, it had to do with the cover of the book.

I've written before about the strange and intense dreams I have -- last night's, for example -- I lived in an apartment that was like one of those hamster habit-trail things, if that's what they're called.

Anyway, the cover art for in the path of falling objects was a long time in the making. In fact, it was just finalized about ten days ago (and the book will be out in September -- I think). Anyway, the incredible artist who put it together, Rich Deas, mentioned something to me about artwork on the title page, as well (which I have not seen). That was it... just a mention. No show (but I've been imagining what he might have come up with, and I'm not going to say, but I hope he was thinking like me on that one).

So, in my dream, the book was out and I was holding on to my first copy, but the cover had been redesigned. It had a baby in a diaper sitting at the wheel of the car from the book. And the baby had a scruffy, greasy beard (he was obviously supposed to be the deranged antagonist, Mitch). And the baby was smoking a cigar (Mitch smokes in the book... but not cigars).

Needless to say, I was fairly disappointed in the new cover design.

Which reminds me, I'd really also like to blog about cover art on books, but I'm trying to come up with some way of doing it that won't get me into trouble. I will say, though, emphatically, that the covers of my two books are AMAZING. And, I will say, too, (Rich...) that this one is my favorite so far...