On the flip side of the content question coin, a reader asks,
I’ve been reading your blog for awhile with interest. I have written a teen fantasy and I have a question about Mirrorstone and YA in general. My novel has some profanity, drinking, and sex. (I like to call it a Veronica Mars meets Tamora Pierce meets Joss Whedon type of book) This seems quite ordinary to me as my protagonist is seventeen years old. (And I remember high school vividly.) But I keep hearing that YA should be ‘cleaner’. Is that true and does it mean that I should submit to Wizards under the adult imprint?Thanks for reading! As are most of my answers, this one is "it depends."
How graphic is the mature content? We at Mirrorstone keep to a fairly strict PG-13 standard, so anything of a graphic nature really isn't for us, but that doesn't mean we don't shy away from tough subjects. But Wizards books often have that restriction as well (though not as strictly) because of corporate policy--there is just a line we won't cross as a company.
That doesn't mean you won't find that kind of thing out there, though, in the YA marketplace. There is a YA book to suit pretty much any teen's taste, from the gamut of innocent adventure and fantasy like Shannon Hale (who nevertheless also doesn't shy away from extremely tough subjects) to the darker work of Holly Black and Melissa Marr. (See that previous post for more on that.)
But that doesn't mean we're the right publisher for you. Or it might. The best way to answer this question is to read widely. Read all our YA books--check out our anthology, Magic in the Mirrorstone, and see the kind of variety we're looking for--and notice that it has a Holly Black story and a Cecil Castellucci story, both authors who are known for their edgy material. Look at how they crafted their stories, and see if your work fits within that same gamut. Then check out other books from other publishers putting out books similar to yours, and after all that, submit accordingly. You may decide that we're not quite a fit for you--but then, you might.
Now, the secondary issue in your question is adult versus YA. Is an edgy novel with a 17-year-old protagonist YA, or is it adult?
Again, it depends.
Generally if your protagonist is living your story in the moment--not looking back on being 17 from the point of view of a 30-something--then that's one clue that it's YA.
Generally if teens (including the teen you remember yourself being at 15 or 16, because kids read up) would be more interested in the story than adults would, then it's YA. Check out coverage of the "Think Future" Panel Debates to see some good discussion of this issue. Note what George Nicholson of Sterling Lord Literistic said about S.E. Hinton's books:
Nicholson provided some historical perspective, recalling the days there was no category called “young adult.” Then, in the 1970s, a few writers came along “who had a social context,” such as S.E. Hinton, and a teen audience was identified and located. “When [Hinton] was first published by Viking,” Nicholson recalled, “No one wanted it in the adult world. But when the book was republished as a book for teens, with a new cover, it began to sell in the millions.”With that in mind, who do you see reading your books? Thirty-somethings? Twenty-somethings? Or right smack in the teen years, anywhere from 12 to 18 or 19 year olds?
Also, boys or girls?
If you're looking for teens to read it, you should be trying to sell it to a publisher who publishes books for teens, and then target a YA publisher who targets the readership you're looking to reach.
Teens, especially boys, do read the books published by the adult imprint at Wizards, so perhaps that complicates it and takes you back to square one, but I think if you just make sure to keep in mind what kinds of books that publisher makes and send it to the imprint with books most like your own, you'll be fine.
As a teenager, I wanted to read books that didn't have sex in them. As a writer, I want to create the kind of books that I wanted to read as a teenager. Yet, I was afraid that an editor or an agent would want me to put sex scenes in my books to appeal to the greater audience (though I was willing to fight them for it).
Then I read on Editorial Anonymous some instances from the Best/Worst Query contest. From that, it looks like a lot of books with sex have sex because the author wanted it.
So, what are the odds that an editor or an agent would want me to make a YA/adult book more edgy by putting in sex or foul language?
I can only speak for myself and my own experience, but the odds are very slim. The YA market is so diverse, and we can put "clean reads" like Shannon Hale's Goose Girl beside edgier work like Holly Black's Tithe or M.J. Anderson's Feed (both books that tell great stories but have some language content some might not want to read), and both kinds of books will be valued and enjoyed by their target audience. There are so many different kinds of teens and so many different kinds of readers that I think a good story will find its home.
Personally, I as an editor choose books for what's IN them, not for what's NOT in them. I want a good story. Thus, I can love Tithe and Feed and many books like them because they tell good stories. I feel the content that some might find objectionable is rarely gratuitous in YA (not so for some adult books I've read . . .)--it always supports the story. (For example, when you read Feed you feel like the characters' use of degraded language directly illustrates how their culture has degraded.)*
A lot of people feel that "teens talk that way" and if you don't include foul language it won't feel real to teens. I know teens who talk this way and I know teens who don't--just as I did growing up. I myself have never found a need to use a curse stronger than "darn," but I have many friends who swear like sailors and want to see their own reality reflected to them in books as much as I do my own.
If you write a compelling story, no editor I know is going to make you add edgy content you don't want, unless you're trying to write an edgy story without edgy content and coming off corny. (Example: if your "bad" character swears a lot but the worst he ever says is "fiddlesticks," there's something wrong.) If your characterization and plot work, the story should work without adding anything extraneous. Your content should match the story you're trying to tell.
Here at Mirrorstone we try to make sure our books--even our YAs--meet a self-imposed PG-13 rating. We don't have any hard and fast rules that I have posted on my wall or anything, but we weigh every swear word, every scene with implied or overt sexual content, and scenes of extreme violence, and ask, "Does it serve the story? How can we tell this without disturbing our younger readers? Is this going too far?" And then we edit accordingly. Usually it's to tone down a scene already written, not to add content to a scene.
For example, for an older middle grade novel I once edited, we had a fight scene that included decapitation. I weighed whether the violence was too graphic. I decided it was okay because the good guys were fighting off monsters and the monsters could only be killed by cutting off their heads (any other kind of wound just temporarily slowed them down). It worked for that book and the author handled those fight scenes artfully.
My take on this: Write the book you want to write. Write a good story. If your story is one that doesn't need that kind of content, it's rare that someone would suggest it should.
Also . . .
As you go through the editing process, your editor will undoubtedly say many times, "It feels like a scene/paragraph/reaction is missing here . . ." She might suggest something, but usually she'll leave it up to you to answer the questions she asks.
But perhaps at some point an editor might suggest that the story should veer in a direction you don't want to take it. Editors are here to suggest how to make the story better, and you never know, an editor might feel something you are opposed to is necessary for the particular story in question.
If this rare occurrence ever happens to you, it's nothing to be afraid of. Discuss it with your editor. Find out what she feels is missing, and then see if you can find another way to solve the problem the editor has identified. I know few editors who will say you MUST do this or I won't publish your book (it has to be a BIG problem for that to happen after a contract has been signed). Both editors and authors must learn the art of negotiation, and of getting to the heart of what's wrong in a story. I give suggestions as a way to spark ideas for the author. Suggestions rarely mean edicts.
*I must say, if you haven't read these books because you don't want to read bad language, you're missing out on a good story. But then, I rarely watch rated R movies despite being told they're a good story because I find that few balance out against the content that got them the rating, so I understand where the concern comes from. I can skim things as I'm reading that I can't as easily when I'm watching something. (But I won't give up Glory. Or, well, I have a soft spot in my heart for Terminator 2.)
I can only speak for myself and my own experience, but the odds are very slim. The YA market is so diverse, and we can put "clean reads" like Shannon Hale's Goose Girl beside edgier work like Holly Black's Tithe or M.J. Anderson's Feed (both books that tell great stories but have some language content some might not want to read), and both kinds of books will be valued and enjoyed by their target audience. There are so many different kinds of teens and so many different kinds of readers that I think a good story will find its home.
Personally, I as an editor choose books for what's IN them, not for what's NOT in them. I want a good story. Thus, I can love Tithe and Feed and many books like them because they tell good stories. I feel the content that some might find objectionable is rarely gratuitous in YA (not so for some adult books I've read . . .)--it always supports the story. (For example, when you read Feed you feel like the characters' use of degraded language directly illustrates how their culture has degraded.)*
A lot of people feel that "teens talk that way" and if you don't include foul language it won't feel real to teens. I know teens who talk this way and I know teens who don't--just as I did growing up. I myself have never found a need to use a curse stronger than "darn," but I have many friends who swear like sailors and want to see their own reality reflected to them in books as much as I do my own.
If you write a compelling story, no editor I know is going to make you add edgy content you don't want, unless you're trying to write an edgy story without edgy content and coming off corny. (Example: if your "bad" character swears a lot but the worst he ever says is "fiddlesticks," there's something wrong.) If your characterization and plot work, the story should work without adding anything extraneous. Your content should match the story you're trying to tell.
Here at Mirrorstone we try to make sure our books--even our YAs--meet a self-imposed PG-13 rating. We don't have any hard and fast rules that I have posted on my wall or anything, but we weigh every swear word, every scene with implied or overt sexual content, and scenes of extreme violence, and ask, "Does it serve the story? How can we tell this without disturbing our younger readers? Is this going too far?" And then we edit accordingly. Usually it's to tone down a scene already written, not to add content to a scene.
For example, for an older middle grade novel I once edited, we had a fight scene that included decapitation. I weighed whether the violence was too graphic. I decided it was okay because the good guys were fighting off monsters and the monsters could only be killed by cutting off their heads (any other kind of wound just temporarily slowed them down). It worked for that book and the author handled those fight scenes artfully.
My take on this: Write the book you want to write. Write a good story. If your story is one that doesn't need that kind of content, it's rare that someone would suggest it should.
Also . . .
As you go through the editing process, your editor will undoubtedly say many times, "It feels like a scene/paragraph/reaction is missing here . . ." She might suggest something, but usually she'll leave it up to you to answer the questions she asks.
But perhaps at some point an editor might suggest that the story should veer in a direction you don't want to take it. Editors are here to suggest how to make the story better, and you never know, an editor might feel something you are opposed to is necessary for the particular story in question.
If this rare occurrence ever happens to you, it's nothing to be afraid of. Discuss it with your editor. Find out what she feels is missing, and then see if you can find another way to solve the problem the editor has identified. I know few editors who will say you MUST do this or I won't publish your book (it has to be a BIG problem for that to happen after a contract has been signed). Both editors and authors must learn the art of negotiation, and of getting to the heart of what's wrong in a story. I give suggestions as a way to spark ideas for the author. Suggestions rarely mean edicts.
*I must say, if you haven't read these books because you don't want to read bad language, you're missing out on a good story. But then, I rarely watch rated R movies despite being told they're a good story because I find that few balance out against the content that got them the rating, so I understand where the concern comes from. I can skim things as I'm reading that I can't as easily when I'm watching something. (But I won't give up Glory. Or, well, I have a soft spot in my heart for Terminator 2.)
A recent email asks a question that has come up several times in the past:
I sent you two manuscripts/books, one to consider as a sample for work-for-hire possibilities, and one to consider as an original work. I got one rejection letter. Was it for one, the other, or both?
Often these questions come because someone has sent a multi-purpose package, wherein they've got a full manuscript (not the first three chapters of a manuscript as outlined in our submission guidelines) plus several other items for consideration, then say "please consider this for both work-for-hire and as an original." Then they include one SASE for the whole huge package (if they include an SASE at all, which is another subject that our associate editor has asked me to cover and which I'll do in a separate post).
The confusion of "which was it??" then arises because you get one rejection letter, saying nothing about which was rejected.
The simplest way around this confusion is that if you're going to send several items, be sure to send them in separate packages with a separate SASE, noting on the envelope which project the envelope was related to. That way there won't be any question about whether one part was passed on to another editor while the other part was rejected. That's good advice even if you only send one project to each publisher at a time.
However, still make sure that the submission follows the submission guidelines. If a writer sends a whole huge package including a full manuscript, it indicates at least on the surface that they probably haven't read our submission guidelines (or they think they don't have to follow the rules), and it's much more likely that if one part is rejected, the package as a whole is rejected.
Really, the editor reading submissions doesn't have time to parse out huge packages. She's screening for potential at that point, which is why we specifically ask that writers only submit the first three chapters and a synopsis. It's an avalanche of paper to get unsolicited submissions at any time, but when writers send one or several full unsolicited manuscripts at once, that gets overwhelming. We'll ask for more if we want to read more.
The next simplest solution is to be sure to only send one project at a time. It will really reduce both your headache and ours. If we like your work, you can mention, "hey, I've got this other project too. Would you be interested in seeing it?" and then we can decide at that time. If we reject it, you'll be ready with a newly polished next project that might work out better.
Now, if you've followed all those directions and have just noted on your cover letter that you'd like your original sample to also be considered for our shared-world series, great! You're doing well. But you'll still only get one rejection letter if we don't feel like your work is a good fit for us at the time.
Here's how it works if we think someone fits an existing shared-world series: If we decide from your sample that your writing style works for a particular series, and the timing is right and we're looking for authors at that time, then an editor will note in the letter that while the sample isn't something we'd be interested in acquiring, we like your style enough that we'll keep your sample on file for shared-world possibilities. I'll announce right now, though, that our soon-to-be-updated submissions guidelines state that we are not currently looking widely for new shared-world authors at this time, and I'm not keeping too many submissions like that on file right now.
Otherwise, I'm afraid that a no is a no. If you don't hear anything besides no, keep writing, keep improving, and keep looking for other venues to place that work.
________________________________________
And just to reiterate:
Due to the number of submissions we receive, there's simply no way to give personal feedback on every submission as to reasons we might not be interested . It could be any number of things, but what it boils down to is that it wasn't the right fit for us at this time (see my 8-post series starting with this one about the relationship between an author and editor for more on that subject).
Sometimes, though, I'll get an email that says, "Can I send you something?" giving me the details that really constitute a query, and I point the person to the submission guidelines. (Though sometimes I wonder how they found the email address right under my bio saying "Go here for our submission guidelines" and didn't seem to see that link.) And sometimes we'll get snail mail queries with just the query letter, so we do the same thing--send a standard "here are the submission guidelines" letter, pointing out that if they don't include a writing sample, we can't consider the submission.
In either case, the response pointing the writer to the submission guidelines is not a "request" for their material. "Requested material" means that I've specifically said to the writer, "I liked your sample. Please send the full manuscript." Anything else before that point is politely asking the person to follow the directions for submitting.
I don't request so much material that I don't remember what I've requested, so writing "requested" on an envelope of material I didn't request just makes me question if you know how to find our submission guidelines and follow the directions.
I understand that some publishers ask for just a query, and some for samples, and some for full manuscripts, and it can get confusing.
But the directions are out there on how each publisher prefers to receive submissions, and they're for the writer's benefit--if I don't have a writing sample, no synopsis is going to make me know whether I want to say yes or no. So if I said I'd take just queries for unagented submissions I'd have added a burdensome step for my submissions reading. That's just how we prefer it.
By following the guidelines a publisher provides, you make sure your writing will stand out, and that's what's most important.
And for good measure, our submission guidelines are here.
Mostly what I see at this point are the better submissions. Everybody follows the directions with a cover letter, a three-chapter sample (though some aren't clear on the idea of three chapters being three chapters from the beginning of the same book, even if you're sending a writing sample for a shared world series), and most everyone includes a good synopsis/outline of the proposed book. In other words, by the time it reaches me, most everyone has read the submissions guidelines.
So the next question I ask as I'm reading is whether I'm caught by the writing and the story. Those are two different things--how good a storyteller is the author? is one question, and how good a writer is the author? is a different question entirely. So you might say that my next question is actually two questions, because I'm looking at both storytelling and style.
Boggy beginnings
Something I noticed in the submissions I rejected was that the story doesn't get going fast enough. You have three chapters to hook me, but if the first few pages don't get me, you have a tougher job. Why are you starting the story where you're starting it? Sometimes I'll browse back through the sample and find that if the writer had started the story in chapter 2 or 3 it would have been better. Usually, though, the whole sample is bogged down by things the writer believes necessary, such as the introduction of minor characters, which might be better off elsewhere to allow the story to start.
There's a fine balance between telling too much and not telling enough in the beginning of a story. The reader needs to feel involved and needs to know what's going on. But they don't need to know all a character's feelings about their father in an exposition paragraph that stops the action.
And the action is what you want to focus on. Don't use an old Nancy Drew book for your example of how to start a book, even a sequel, for instance. Too many pages of "Nancy had blonde hair, George was the tomboy, and Bess was a little plump," and not enough of the mystery! I loved Nancy Drew as much as the next girl, but I skipped those pages and went straight on to the action.
Then when there are details that the reader absolutely must know, make sure to include that information without breaking the action.
A bad example:
Jennifer watched her brother walk in the room. He had blond hair, and was much taller than she was. He was a good brother. He was three years older than her. He was a kind person who always was there for her.
Instead:
"Could you pass the towel?" Jennifer asked.
"Here, let me get that," her brother said, taking the wet dish from her hand. "You sit down. It's been a long day." Brian always did that sort of thing, noticing when she couldn't take the drama anymore.
Do you see the difference? Give the characters actions. To use a cliche, show, don't tell, but give them something to do if you have something you want to show--and if you want to include it, it has to be in service to the story.
I've been to conferences where people ask me if the three chapter sample has to be the first three. They say, "But chapters 4, 10, and 11 are the best ones!" My answer to them is that if their instinct is to show me chapter 4, they need to reconsider why they want to show me chapter 4 and where the story really begins.
Wordsmithing
The second question, how good a writer are they? refers to the writer's style. There are submissions that I look at and think, "This is okay," in a perfunctory way--the writer can string a sentence together correctly, and has a good grasp on action and storytelling. But then there are submissions where the writer has all these things, and then there is something more. That something more is voice.
How well do you get into the character's head? (In the story, not necessarily in your own head! Though that works well for some of the writers I know.) How well can you evoke their emotions, their relationships? The storytelling, which we talked about above, is what moves the plot along, gives the right pacing, but the voice is what lets us explore this character's inner and outer world.
Personally, I don't go for sentences that are so beautifully crafted that you can barely decifer the story--I want sentence craft that serves the story, because the story does always come first. But what makes each story unique is the voice, the characterization, the author's ability to create the desired mood.
Now, that isn't really "wordsmithing" in the "craft a beautiful sentence" sense, but I think they're related. Thoughts?
Today's final post is a morality tale. It is a tale of an annoyed editor and a newby writer who should have known better.
The setting: Editor is cleaning out her office. There comes a time when "organized disorder" becomes plain old disorder and you have to do something about it. It's been over a year since the move to the new building, and she has decided that it's about time to organize the files before they rise up and eat her alive.
Between juggling (literally) files and juggling (metaphorically) all the other duties of her day, including people stopping by her cube numerous times an hour to ask her questions, and colleague yelling over the wall to tell her to check her email to answer more questions, Editor is feeling kind of frazzled, but triumphant. She will conquer this organizational nightmare, and she has the label maker to make it happen.
The phone rings.
E.: Hello?
Newby Writer: <Announces name. No greeting.>
E.: . . . Yes? How can I help you?
N.W.: I sent you an email yesterday.
E.: You did?
N.W.: Yes, why didn't you write me back? Or answer my voicemail?
S.E.: . . .
N.W.: Well, like I said in the email, I've got the next best thing in children's literature right here, and true to my word, I'm going to call you every day until you give me an answer.
E.: Have you looked up our submissions guidelines? You're welcome to submit, but you need to follow those guidelines.
N.W.: No. Here's what you're going to do. I'm sending you a postcard today with my idea, and you can check off whether you want to sign me up.
E.: <puzzled look, can't get a word in edgewise>
N.W.: I went through all that before. I found a publisher, and they signed me up and sat on my book for a year. A year! And didn't do anything with it. So my brother drew up a letter of disillusion and I fired them. I'm never going through that again.
E.: Well, pretty much the only way to get published through us is to read the guidelines and then follow them. If I get your submission I'll give it careful consideration, just like every other submission. Thanks for calling, have a nice day! <click>
There are several things wrong with this scenario, number one being the fact that the author thought he could "fire" a publisher. It's unclear whether he was actually under contract with a reputable trade publisher, but from the context it doesn't really sound like he was.
Problem number two is that the author is showing right off that he's not an easy-going, professional guy to work with. Even if you have the most amazing, stunning ideas, if the editor can't stand you, there's a big chance she might pass, because such an author isn't going to take editorial direction very well. And don't get me started on the phrase, "Here's what you're going to do."
Problem number three is the obvious: he called. Even if you must call, perhaps it might be a good idea to be polite. But as you can probably imagine, if you catch an editor in a bad moment--such as when she's got a million things going on, which would be pretty much every day--she's going to be much less likely to be patient.
That said, the polite inquiries I get from time to time requesting information about an author's submission are welcome. Certainly if you haven't heard from me after a couple months you have every right to ping me--via email or snail mail--and check in on the status of your submission. I'm afraid I've been quite swamped since Christmastime and manuscripts I thought I'd get to several months ago have been languishing in the to-read pile, sadly neglected and--to use a phrase ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
tltrent just used the other day regarding silver and china--taunting me, giving me extreme guilt complexes. We've been slowly catching up on the backlog, don't worry! And I'll usually respond with a thanks for keeping in touch and for the polite reminder.
But (and I'm probably preaching to the choir here, but this is for posterity) calling is probably not your best option.
*Though this is a true story, this did not happen to me.
How do I get my agent in touch with you in regards to submitting a fantasy MG series of mine. Would he send to the slushpile? The reason I ask is that he is currently pitching to editors and I’m very interested in working with Mirrorstone and yourself.
That's great! I'm always open to new authors, whether agented or not. Agents aren't submitting to the slush pile per se--it just happens that we prefer mail submissions for logistical reasons, from both authors directly and from agents.
I think I've mentioned before that Mirrorstone is a very small imprint. I mean really small. In the editorial department there's me (the associate editor), the senior editor, and part of the time of an assistant editor. So don't worry--if something is addressed to me it ends up in my lap and I'll be able to tell right away that it's an agent.
You can find details on how we like to receive submissions at our submissions guidelines. The most important thing for an agent to know, of course, is that the address is P.O. Box 707, Renton, WA 98057-0707, sent to my attention.
However, if your agent has more specific questions, he's welcome to email us at mirrorstone [at] wizards [dot] com. We just prefer not to receive submissions at that address.
Getting the digital camera, even in the first few days of use, has given me back that joy. I'm starting to remember the way I used to play with angles and lighting and the strange subjects I used to seek out. I have done a little of that playing with my camera phone, but that's more of a toy than a passion--when you're dealing with a 2 MP camera, there's only so much art you can create.
(I have a point, really I do.)
This is an important process to me, because I occasionally do a freelance article here and there, a wedding here and there, that kind of thing. I'm taking some pictures for our kickboxing teacher in a couple weeks to help him promote his new dojo. But I'd been feeling lately that I was losinig my chops. All my pictures ended up coming out the same--lots of flash burn, standard compositions, nothing out of the ordinary that gives you that wow factor. Competent, but not excellent. Even the pictures I posted in the last few days reflect those ways of seeing, though I love the salt shaker post because it's something different, something new I tried after learning a few things about indoor lighting (the bane of my photographic existence).
So, what does this have to do with writing and with Jane Yolen's book in particular?
The whole book is about that discovery process, giving writers permission to find that joy that I have been rediscovering in my photography. In the first chapter Yolen quotes Gene Fowler, "'Writing is easy: All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until the drops of blood form on your forehead'" and immediately refutes him: "I suggest you learn to write not with blood and fear, but with joy." She says to forget about publishing, because it's out of your hands, and to focus on the joy of your craft--of writing a story well, of really digging in and living in the story.
A very good premise. I mean, after all, why write if you don't find joy in it? I write. I think I've said it before here. I have a story, a retelling of a Scottish fairy tale, that I've been working on since my last year at BYU, in 2001. It's gone through many renditions, and the most I've ever finished was a novellette for a folklore class in grad school. Then I threw out the entire setting and decided to change it all around, and have gotten all of 10,000 words written since then in the new setting.
Why haven't I finished it? Because while it brings me joy to live in that story, it doesn't bring me enough joy to make it worth my time to write every night after doing a very similar activity at work every day. I fully admit I may never be a published fiction writer (I am a published non-fiction freelance writer over and over, but that's a different market), and that's enough for me to find the little joys in the little bits of writing I do from time to time because publication isn't important to me--what's important to me is the story in my imagination.
And mostly because I find that same kind of joy in being an editor to far better books than I could probably write right now.
For those who don't have that push-pull of using up that creative energy before you can set pen to paper (metaphorically speaking), Yolen's book will have much fodder for the imagination.
Though I must say that the whole numinous "the mystery of fiction," "the mystery of the writing process," bleh. Don't make it all mysterious, as if someone with a little talent and a lot of effort can't figure it out. There's nothing mysterious about the combination of putting in the time to do something you love so that you can develop the inborn talent you have into something better. It's work, but if you find joy in it, it's time well spent, in my opinion.
But that may just be my practical Midwestern upbringing coming into play. Doesn't mean that there isn't mystery in the art, and if that motivates you to seek joy in creating art, whatever your art is, more power to you.
Back to Take Joy--as you have probably already guessed, this isn't so much a review as a disjointed essay borne from a few ideas I've plucked from its pages--Yolen says that "These stories grace our actual lives with their fictional realities. Like angels they lift us above the hurrying world." I really like that idea. I don't know if I can recapture what it is that caught me about that particular passage, but I'll try.
As I was driving home the other night a program on NPR caught my attention. It was a Romanian professor by the name of Kodrescu (spelling? who knows?) who was speaking about the power of memories, how we create memories that didn't actually happen and turn them to pedagogical uses, how we change memory to fantasy because sometimes fantasy feels more real than the reality it is trying to reflect.
How to express this? That talk really said something to me the other night, but now it's slipping from my mind, and I can barely even remember who the speaker was at this point.
At any rate, I think what I'm trying to say is that sometimes in fiction we find more truth than we do in the reality we're seeking to interpret. I've said this before about fantasy, about its wonderful metaphorical magic. We can talk about struggles, the epic battle between good and evil, the shades of gray, the variety of human existence, in so many ways in fantasy that we can't do as well in realism sometimes because of the power the metaphor gives us--the power that the fictional, the fantasy (meaning the numinous, the fantastic, as well as simply the fantasy of making up a story), give us to assign multiple meanings and to interpret and reinterpret.
That the stories can "grace our actual lives with their fictional realities" can mean so many things, and I'm losing the ability to express what I'm trying to say.
At any rate, the book is a good read, and I think nonwriters as well as writers can benefit from the idea of taking joy in the art you pursue--remembering why you do what you do.
Of course, writers will get even more out of it, because she's got some solid advice for writers in there about taking rejection well, the elements of a good story (beyond a simple anecdote to a fully drawn drama), finding your voice, even a whole section dedicated to specific practical advice. I love the little interludes, the little bits of wisdom between chapters. One such, before chapter 5, is especially apropos for anyone who writes historical fiction, fantasy, or other genres that require lots of research:
For a writer, nothing is lost. Research once done can be used again and again, a kind of marvel of recycling. As writers we need to be shameless about thieving from ourselves.
For example, I did two books on the Shakers--a nonfiction book called Simple Gifts and a novel, The Gift of Sarah Barker. And it is no coincidence that the round barn I discovered in my historical research, I then used as a piece of setting in the Sarah Barker book. It later found its way into my young adult science fiction novel, Dragon's Blood.
Good research swims upstream where it can spawn. (p. 41)
So there you have it, as one of hopefully a lot of writing book recommendations here at Stacy Whitman's Grimoire, couched in an essay on finding my photography chops again. Check out the book--you might find some gems that help you find joy in your own writing.
jjsass wrote:That's a very good question, especially from someone writing from a country far across the ocean. I'm very impressed with how Wizards--and pretty much the whole Seattle area--is very concerned about trying to protect the environment. And while I'd love to start taking email submissions for the sake of the environment--your point about airplanes carrying the mail and using jet fuel is important, because it's certainly not just the paper--the truth is that it's just plain hard on the eyes to read submissions on screen. I do a lot of work on the computer daily, but there's only so much I can do before my eyes just give up.
Do you read novels electronically? It's a similar situation. Especially for manuscript-length submissions, it's extremely fatiguing to try to read for long periods of time on screen. I love reading blogs, email, that kind of thing, but people's attention span on screen is much, much shorter than you want someone to have when reading a book--and you want an editor to feel comfortable enough to want to devote her time to your submission, whether it be 3 chapters or a whole requested manuscript.
The next option would be for us to take email submissions, but then to print them out on our end so they're more mobile. Most of us don't sit at our computers to read submissions--if I do it in the office, I'm shutting myself away in a conference room so I can have more quiet for reading, but usually I take them home to read at night; most of my colleagues do the same.... though I don't live in New York, so I don't have a train ride home to read on. (And speaking of the environment, how I wish I did! I really miss living on a great public transportation system!)
Sometimes we'll have a slush-reading party where we all gather in a conference room to read and discuss submissions, and it's much easier to pass submissions from one editor to another with comments written right on the submission--we reference the paper, hand it back and forth, discuss face to face.
If we printed them out so we could cart them around, that becomes our cost for paper and toner, rather than that of the submitter. That can really add up with the thousands of submissions we get each year.
So it''s mainly logistics, though partly cost. Perhaps one day when the computer reading tablet becomes affordable (I've heard of some advances in the technology and pricing, but never seen them in person), and they design such a tablet in a way that doesn't fatigue the eyes more than a piece of paper, it'll change. But right now, logistics really require hard copies through the early process, especially in the decision making phase.
( However... )
To sum up, we're doing a little bit for the environment, and always looking for ways we can do better, but the technology for reading on screen has a way to go before it'll really be ready for what the publishing industry needs, and speaking in specifics, what Mirrorstone needs. And we of course have to deal with the equipment we have on hand, and none of us has those nifty tablets I spoke of above. :)
The caveat: I think
jjsass is probably asking from the perspective of living in another country. I'm sure it's frustrating to have to worry about the cost of postage, the long turnaround time, and all the other hassles of doing business from another country, which is compounded by figuring out how to do the international reply coupon for the SASE, etc.I completely sympathize. For me personally, as long as you know for sure that your email address is valid and will remain so for several years (just in case--for example, my friend Brandon's book was finally picked up a year and a half after he'd submitted it to an editor at Tor, and his now-editor had to do some major sleuthing to find him, because his phone number, address, and email had all changed by that time!)--as long as you know for sure it is typed correctly on your submission (and on every place it appears on your submission), you can forego the SASE.* (Hm, that's a lot of italics, but I wanted to be sure to emphasize all the qualifications I'm putting on that...)
That's JUST for international submissions, if that makes your life a little easier. As a general rule, especially for domestic situations, the SASE isn't just for rejections--it's an insurance policy in case you have a typo in your email address, or your phone number changes, etc. (again, ref. Brandon's experience). Sometimes it might be the only way an editor has to get a hold of you for one reason or another, with good news. And most editors aren't the kinds of detectives that Moshe is, and will just end up tossing your submission if they can't find you.
But the SASE exception I noted above is just me. It's much much better just to follow the guidelines if you don't know if an editor is okay with that.
*And if an editor likes your submission enough to overlook working with you across huge time zone differences and international boundaries, you can probably expect to do much of your correspondence after the initial submission via email for more logistical reasons.
So, I'm starting an infrequent series today I'll be labelling in the tags as FAQs. Here we go with #1, with of course identifying information removed.
My novel, the first of a proposed 7-book chapter series, uses children as the lead characters in a detailed fantasy world. It floats between the line of the more adult Wizards of the Coast readers, and the younger Mirrorstone audience. Categorically, it can belong to either, and maybe even both.
With that said, since the protagonists are children (and the wording is at the 7th grade level), would it be more prudent to submit it to Mirrorstone, or to Wizards? Is it possible to submit it to both imprints?
I just wanted to make sure I submitted it to the appropriate imprint. I wrote this initially as a young reader's book, and the tone and verbiage corresponds to that age. But its detail and rich character development is making me wonder a bit.
There are a lot of good questions in here that a lot of aspiring authors would be interested in. Editors use very specific definitions for different types of books, and knowing what those definitions are and how to use them will make your query letters stand out.
When someone says to a children's book editor that they have a chapter book series they'd like to propose, the editor thinks "early reader" for kids who have just learned to read, generally ages 6-8. Think Time Spies or Magic Treehouse or Junie B. Jones or Spiderwick.
So, let's get some clear definitions of the terms we use, so that everyone will be on the same page. Since I work with fiction, I'm just going to refer to novels, but this applies to nonfiction, anthologies, short stories, and other categories as well.
Chapter book--ages 6-8, a short story written with care taken for vocabulary, generally printed in a larger font and containing several illustrations. Not as dependent on illustrations as a picture book, but still quite a few. Broken up into short chapters to help new readers get used to the format of a regular novel, compared to the more word-sparse picture book.
Middle grade--novels written for ages 8-12. Pretty much anything in the young readers section at the bookstore--Harry Potter (Sorcerer's Stone, at least), Charlotte's Web, all those longer storybooks generally are considered middle grade, aimed at kids who are fluent independent readers who like a longer story. Genres abound in this section--mystery, realism, fantasy, science fiction, and many crossovers between classifications.
Young adult, or YA--novels written for teens ages 12-18. Again, pretty much anything in the bookstore in the teen section. You'll probably notice some crossover between stuff written for the older middle grade crowd and the younger YA crowd--Harry Potter is a great example of how the maturity level of the intended reader increases as the series is published--and some books are shelved in both sections. Again, genres in this category abound--fantasy especially is hot right now. And you'll also notice that some books in the teen section have once been published for adults. Lord of the Rings, for example, is published in many versions, one of which you'll find in the teen section. A lot of crossover between the older YA crowd and books published for adults, because teens tend to "read up," meaning that they read books meant for a slightly older audience. Great examples of YA fantasy include Holly Black's Tithe, Libba Bray's A Great and Terrible Beauty, most books by Tamora Pierce, the Abhorsen trilogy by Garth Nix, Shannon Hale's Goose Girl, and Charles de Lint's The Blue Girl. There are so many more out there, too. And Hallowmere, the first volume of which, In the Serpent's Coils by Tiffany Trent, will debut next fall, will be the first YA series to be published by Mirrorstone.
If you've written a story you think will appeal to teens, by all means, it's something to propose to Mirrorstone. And don't shy away from rich characterization and detail! The best YA writers use both (read Robin McKinley!)--plot is important, but should grow from great characters and their motivations. Generally, plots for younger readers (and here I mean anything under 18) tend to be more linear than plots in books for adults, but even so, that's just a generalization. Twists and turns are welcome, and we actively seek characters we want to care about.
The best way to judge whether it would appeal to Mirrorstone as opposed to Wizards of the Coast, which is our imprint for adults, is to go into a bookstore's teen section and see what's on the shelf. If your book would fit in better in the teen section than the fantasy section of the bookstore, then you know you're targeting Mirrorstone. If you'd rather see it in the fantasy section for adults, then the WotC imprint is probably a better fit.
That said, you have to be aware that the WotC imprint is only open for submissions from Sept. to Dec. every year, and is looking for very specific kinds of books. Follow the guidelines with exactness, and don't submit anything unless the website says that they're open for submissions. Do not submit to both imprints at once. It's much less confusing that way.
Now, if you're still not sure whether your book should be for teens or adults, the next thing to do is to get together with a critique group or other group of people familiar with children's literature, YA specifically. Contact your local chapter of SCBWI to find a critique group, or take a class in children's literature, or go to a writing conference. If you want to write for a market, you need to be informed within the market, so however you learn, do your research before pitching your manuscript.
If you don't know where your manuscript fits, it'll be that much harder for me to know if it's right for us. The manuscripts that stand out, in addition to the number one criteria of being well-crafted, are written by authors who know the children's book market and how it differs from the adult market.
Good luck!
I just discovered Wendy McClure's Let the Mail Prevail!: A Guide to Etiquette, Status Calls, and More, and I want to recommend it especially to beginning writers might feel inclined to call or email before doing their research or instead of using mail.
I don't mind if people want to ask me a quick question via email--I'm glad to answer. A quick question is the key point here.
For example, a couple people have emailed me several times a day with continued questions that would be answered if they'd read the submission guidelines I pointed them to in the first reply. And then, a sign to me of someone who isn't as professional as they should be, one continued to ask questions about specifics that I wanted, as if I were commissioning her work--how many pages or words would I want the book to be, how many illustrations would such a book have, etc. I finally wrote back, trying not to be terse, that if this person would just submit, we could consider their work and then we'd decide.
The main reason for my annoyance? This happened while I was in the middle of frantically trying to finish up a book. Like Wendy McClure says in the sidebar:
Are editors just hopeless Luddites? Not at all: they use e-mail and fax and overnight mail to stay in touch with authors and illustrators during the more frantic book production phase. Which is all the more reason for submitters to avoid these methods: why risk having your story or query pop up in front of an editor in the midst of his deadline emergency?
Email about slush pile questions when there are actual contracted books I'm stressing out over is a bad idea. (The only exceptions to this are authors who I already work with or who have already been published, who aren't technically in the slush pile anyway--they've already established their credentials. I'm speaking here of people who have no track record with me or another publisher--and these tend to be the ones that act impolitely and unprofessionally anyway.) Such questions are important, don't get me wrong, but not as important as the book in front of me, which is why sometimes I don't read submissions as quickly as I intend or would like. Much as I'd love to give the slush pile all the time in the world, I have books that have deadlines I have to meet.
Which segues to phone calls. One time I received a voice mail from a prospective author. He was no longer with his agent, so he was checking in to see if he could send me something directly. No, I don't mind--our submission guidelines say we take unsolicited/unagented submissions, which he would have known if he'd read them. But his contact information left in the voicemail didn't work. Well, I didn't try the phone number because I didn't want to have a conversation like Wendy McClure's example (A Big Don't: Selling Your Manuscript Over the Phone) which has happened to me once before. So I emailed him with the basics and his email was bounced back. If you're going to give me your email address, be sure it's correct!
I'm not a strict no-emails kind of editor, as some editors that I know are (probably because I don't get as much email as them). But when a prospective author communicates with me, I expect professional behavior. These people do their homework ahead of time and are only asking me the stop-gap questions. Google me. Google my imprint. You'll find interviews, the submissions guidelines, this LJ. If you don't know children's literature, do some research before asking me detailed questions about what I want. Odds are that if you know what's already out there, you'll have a better idea of what to submit, especially when coupled with information about what we're currently looking for.
Syndicate
I was wondering why you didn't accept e-mail submissions at Mirrorstone?
It seems to me that a publisher of science fiction and fantasy would be more attuned to the ecological aspects of e-mail submissions - no ruining the ozone layer with planes carrying mail, no trees destroyed for paper, no chemical companies polluting the water for ink, no garbage to burn...
At any rate, that's my question!
:-)