Review: "The Dark" - Lemony Snickett/Jon Klassen

I have to say I do enjoy a good, scary picture book, especially one that's a bit weird or different. Two of my favourites are The Wolves in the Walls by Neil Gaiman and Wolves by Emily Gravett (coincidence that they are both about wolves? Maybe not, given Red Riding Hood etc). I've also used Bruno Bettelheim's book, The Uses of Enchantment, in myths and symbols classes, where he talks about how original, scary fairy tales can help children overcome fears.

So when I heard about the new picture book called The Dark, I was keen to read it. I even bought my own copy! So what do I think of it? Well... a bit disappointing. Maybe that's because I'm an adult, not a five-year-old, but there are a couple of things that didn't work for me. However, there were things I did like. I like the first half a lot, and the illustrations. It's a story about a boy called Laszlo who is afraid of the dark. The dark lives in his house, specifically in the basement, and is presented as though it's a living entity.

By nearly halfway through the book, things are getting scary. Laszlo has tried to "manage" the dark and keep it in the basement, but one night it comes to visit him in his room (the picture shows you that his nightlight goes out). At that point, the dark says, "I want to show you something." Laszlo takes his torch and goes all the way down to the basement, and finds an old chest of drawers, and the dark wants him to come "even closer".

Then we get a whole page full of text which is this kind of adult philosophical speech about why the dark is useful. Huh? What happened? All the tension is gone, all the scary stuff goes pfft. And then the story resumes. And the outcome is just kind of nice and tidy, and the last three double-page spreads are pleasant and affirming that the dark is good.

I'm not sure what is going on here. I've seen one review that asked the same question. Did the editors fall in love with the story and let Snickett/Handler get away with the diversion into dullness? Or did they really think it worked? Other reviews are full of praise for the book (it helps that the illustrator, Jon Klassen, has just won the Caldecott Award for This is Not My Hat), but it gets 2/5 from me. It makes me feel as though there was another story to begin with, somewhere, one that stayed scary all the way and had a really satisfying, victorious ending, and that story ran away or got "nice-ified". But this is a review, and it might just be my dark heart talking!
(There is an audio clip of Neil Gaiman reading the first bit of the book but it's only 40 seconds)

How do you know your writing is improving?

Those of you who read this blog will know that I have been spending the past 22 months studying at Hamline University in Minneapolis/St Paul, Minnesota (graduating soon). I'm doing an MFA in Writing for Children and YA. Has it been hard? Yes. Especially when I was working. This year I have taken 12 months off work to complete my last semester - this is when I work on my creative thesis, which is a novel. Has it been worthwhile? YES! Before I went off to Hamline, I had around 45 published books out there, and a lot of people asked - why would you want to study? (Subtext: aren't you already "there"?)

Well, no. Like most writers, I suspect, I'm rarely happy with my writing. And when I am, it can turn out that people in publishing are not. That's the reality. Writing is a craft, and as soon as you think you know everything there is to know about it, it tends to leap up and slap you with a wet, cold fish. That fish can be of the species "remainder table", or the species "horrible reviews" or even the species "your story ideas are old fashioned and we want something HOT".

If enough time passes between my writing and re-reading, I am quite capable of declaring everything I write is appallingly bad, and it's time I gave up. Doing the MFA has gone a long way towards saving me, because I went into it determined to write daringly. To have a go at things I might have not dared otherwise. To learn as much as I could about the craft (which is why I loved the critical essays, and even the thesis - sometimes). And to try my hardest to IMPROVE.

Even though I'm not entirely sure what that means. In today's publishing world, it probably doesn't mean what I want it to. Writing better doesn't mean I will come up with the next new hot chapter book series, or the next best-selling trilogy (of something) that will get optioned for a movie. Writing better doesn't seem to necessarily mean every editor will be anxiously waiting for my next book.

Writing better will mean to me that when I get a fantastic idea, I'll be able to create it on the page as a story that readers will love to read. That's the key - being able to grasp what is in my head and move it onto the page and be happy with it, instead of despondent that it's not nearly as terrific as I thought it was. What does give me hope, though, is that most writers feel like this. It's a bit like seeing that beautiful, glowing stone shining up at you through the water, and when you reach down and grab it, once it's in your hand, it turns out to be rather ordinary and dull.

So how do we know when we've improved? One way is to keep all of your old drafts of stories and bring them out and compare. I have horrendous stuff that I keep just for that purpose (no matter how much it makes me cringe). Another way is simply to do it - work hard on your craft, and I think you will know in your heart when you are getting better. Don't take any notice of family (unless they are good critical readers). Test it by sending it out, then rewriting, and trying again. A big part of craft is perseverance. That's what counts in the end - the realisation that work is what it takes, and the real desire to do better every single time.

"Runaways" - new verse novel

I've missed posting this month because I've been writing - around 30,000 words of a new SF novel for my Hamline creative thesis, plus a new project for Penguin. But now I'm taking a little time out to celebrate the release of my new verse novel, Runaways.

Jack and Cassie are brother and sister, and when Dad turns up and takes Jack away "on holiday", Cassie is not convinced. But Jack is a difficult kid and Mum doesn't seem bothered that he's gone.

But Jack is a long way away, with a dad who gets a better offer, so Jack takes to the road. He knows where he's going - he's following a story Cassie used to tell him. But is she brave enough to join him?

And can you ever really run away? Or does it just make things worse?

Here's an excerpt:

CASSIE

three years since

we’ve seen Dad

and suddenly he’s back

flashing fifty dollar notes

buying Mum perfume

calling us his little buddies

I’m not so little anymore

I know a fake

when I see one

even if Jack doesn’t

that’s what happens

when you’re younger

you believe anything.

*

Jack wears a grin

from ear to ear

Dad takes him

to the cricket

to the pub

calls him ‘little mate’

Jack soaks it up

but when Dad gives him

fifty dollars

just like that

he gives it to me

worried

that Mum will be angry

she doesn’t say a thing

I hide it anyway

for Jack’s birthday

Jack gets more from Dad

in a day

than Mum gives him

in a year

but it’s totally suss

I know it is

but I stay silent.

 

JACK

out on the highway

trees and trucks whiz past

zzzooom!          zzzooom!

are we there yet?

are we there yet?

no, but

after a while

I feel sick

not car sick but

lonely sick

for Cassie  

and I can’t say anything

because Dad’s hands

are really tight on the wheel

like Mum’s.

*

we drive and drive and drive

nights and days

like we’re never gonna stop

I’m too hot to jiggle

                        I’m a fried zombie

Dad squints behind

his dark stingray glasses

yells at truck drivers

never wants to stop

even when I have to pee

‘hurry up,’ he says

while I freak out

behind a bush

it’s scary

the dark

wants to suck me in

like a black hole. 

*

I ask Dad where we’re going

‘you said the beach’

no answer

I ask again

where we’re going

‘what about school?’

no answer

I ask again

‘where are we going?’

I get a whack that

makes my ears ring.

Runaways is available now - $14.95!

Are you unhappy with your agent?

I’ve been thinking about this as the result of several comments by different people in the past few days – some on blogs and some in person – and wondering why. After all, getting an agent, we’re told, is the key to being published and successful these days. (If you disagree, great, but that’s not what this is about.) In the US, the standard perception is that if you don’t have an agent, particularly in the area of adult fiction, you have very little hope of getting your book in front of an editor.

How to get an agent is the focus of many articles. I even wrote one myself after interviewing two agents at a conference. A lot of agents, such as Janet Reid and Kristin Nelson, have blogs where they give a truckload of advice on how to be professional and get an agent, and what an agent will do for you. But lots of writers are saying, behind closed doors where no one can hear them (or out loud when they want to complain to the world), that they are unhappy with their agent.

And all the writers who don’t have an agent yet wish they’d be grateful they’ve got one at all and shut up.

Why the complaints? I suspect it’s for one of the following reasons:

·       *   The agent was new or starting out when they signed on, and now the agent is really busy and doesn’t have the same amount of time to spend on each writer anymore. Or that early enthusiasm and determination the agent had has been worn away by the ups and downs of the traditional publishing world. 

·      *   The writer thought they’d be getting a combined cheer squad/friend/supporter/partner and their agent believes it’s a business and the writer needs to find that stuff elsewhere.

·   *      The writer thought their agent, who genuinely loved their book, would sell it in a flash for big dollars, and the agent either hasn’t been able to sell it to anyone, or for a much lower advance than hoped for.

·   *      The writer didn’t get any of the “dream” agents he/she was hoping for, but they got this agent (who was better than no agent, right?), and now they’re thinking it was a bad move. Why? For any or all of the reasons above. Most agents only take on books and writers whose work they love, but sometimes it doesn’t happen the way either of them hoped.

· *        The writer didn’t really investigate well enough how this agent operates. Some agents work on your manuscript with you (often they’ve been editors before), some expect you to give them perfection, more or less, that they can sell. Some agents see it completely as a business, and you make appointments like everyone else if you want to talk, and some agents are much more about career-building with some hand-holding added in. The spectrum of how an agent likes to work with clients is vast. Writers need to know this stuff.

Over the years, I’ve realized that many writers have no real idea of what agents do, or are supposed to do, for the percentage they earn. They also don’t know or accept that a bad agent, or an agent unsuited to the relationship they want or need, is worse than no agent at all. Once you have an agent, you can’t keep sending your own novels out, and the agent probably won’t want you self-publishing willy-nilly either. It is a business relationship. Yes, you make money and then your agent makes money. A good agent will want to make you lots of money, for obvious reasons. They may not want you calling them every week for an encouraging pep talk when you have writer’s block. Or maybe they’ll be OK with that. But you have to know that upfront or you’ll be disappointed.

There are plenty of ways to find this stuff out. All over the net are interviews with agents, to start with, plus the information on agency websites. It’s no longer a guessing game. But like anything, you’ll get out of your research what you put into it. Since getting an agent is an important career move for many writers, it pays to put a LOT into it.

I’d love to have a discussion about this – if you’re one of those unhappy writers, you might like to take advantage of the Anonymous option and comment.

"The Crane Wife" - Patrick Ness

I was lucky enough to win a free copy of The Crane Wife from A&U, and the reason I put my hand up for it was simply - A Monster Calls, Ness's earlier novel (written from the idea of Siobhan Dowd). I had heard of this book but it was when one of our Hamline faculty, Jane Resh Thomas, read out the first pages to us and gave us all the shivers, that made me want to read the whole thing. I think it was my top book for 2012.

So when The Crane Wife arrived in my mail box, I was looking forward to reading it. The first chapter, where George saves the crane, is like the opening to A Monster Calls - the language is so beautiful and the way Ness describes the encounter is so magical and dark, that you just want it to keep on going for the whole book. Of course, it doesn't. There are lots of other eloquent passages but none, I think, that match the opening.

It's a novel, so we need a story and characters. Plain, ordinary George is caught up by Kumiko, who comes into his copy/print business one day and discovers him cutting shapes out of old books - these shapes are what she needs to complete her tile pictures made of feathers and, in the way of instant celebrity now, the tiles are soon much sought after and people pay big money for them. Except ... the tiles are somehow magical, as are many of the other changes in George's life.

Add in George's daughter, who is unreasonably and uncontrollably angry with the whole world, Rachel with evil intent, the funny and long-suffering printer's assistant Mahmet, the mysterious Kumiko herself, and we have a strange mix of characters who swirl around and bounce off each other without really connecting.

I always tend to look at the structure of a story and, in this case, I think Ness is using metaphor, layering the story in the same way feathers are layered and of differing kinds on a bird. The feathers also act as symbols, so you get the impression of a story that grows and overlaps itself, rather than something with an inexorable linear narrative. I wasn't sure that Ness was completely in control of this - at times I felt the story wavered and tottered under its own ambitions, but I'd rather experience this and think about it afterwards than expect a writer to always play safe and produce something less mysterious!

I believe the story is based on a Japanese folk tale, but it wasn't one I was familiar with and I didn't feel any need to go and look it up (but you can if you want to). It certainly does have that mythological air about it, all the same.

Solitude and the writer

A writer friend of mine (who has a live-in partner) said to me the other day, "I'd like to live alone, and just have them come over when I feel like it. That's not too much to ask, is it?" Then she laughed - a lot - as did I, and then we both sighed.  Yes, it's too much to ask, especially of a relationship where one person is not a writer and doesn't "get" the constant desire for solitude.

What happens for a writer during those solitary times? I can only tell you what happens for me, when I get them (which is rare these days, but more of that later). I find focus, for a start. When someone else is in the house, even if they are not in the same room, their very presence makes me scattered. The only way I have found to combat this is to have a list of things to do (which includes writing) and try really hard to stick to it. It does help. A bit. When I am alone for one or two whole days, it's all about writing. I think, sit in one place, focus, plan, daydream, and write. It's a flow, like a river I am floating along, with no need to dock anywhere unless I need food or sleep.

In solitude I also find ideas. That line to start a poem, that flash that might be a story, that insight into my main character in my current novel - instead of drifting past before I can stop them, or having someone speak to me and pop the idea bubble, I can grab the nearest notebook, write down what I thought and then add more to it as I sit (in peace and quiet) and ponder.

In solitude I write more poems. May Sarton (in her Journal of a Solitude, which I am about to re-read) says "If I were in solitary confinement for a time and knew that no one would ever read what I wrote, I would still write poetry but not novels ... perhaps because a poem is primarily a dialogue with the self and the novel a dialogue with others." When someone else is around you all the time, there is no mental space to have that dialogue with yourself.

In solitude, I find myself. I go inside and dream and think and my thoughts meander wherever they want to. While to other people this might sound like laziness, or a break from the real world, or a form of meditation, for me it is simply time for my brain to do whatever it feels like. Do you remember what that is like?

Maybe this is mostly why I like Facebook. I choose when to log in, I love seeing what my friends are up to, what makes them laugh (and often me, too), what family are doing, and I get to share what I currently find interesting. Then I log out and it's all gone. Peace. (Yes, kind of like that ideal spouse who only comes around when you want them to!)

But as far as solitude and my writing goes, I have finally, after two years of struggling with this and trying various solutions, come to the conclusion that solitude will not find me in opportune moments. I will have to go out and claim it, one way or another.

Google Reader is gone

Apparently Google Reader (and receiving your most-read blog posts using that feed option) is gone, which a lot of people won't be happy about. The news came to me from Copyblogger, which I receive via email.

So I have taken the RSS feed widget off this blog, and replaced it with the "subscribe by Email" widget - it just means the posts from here will come to you via email rather than you reading them in your (no longer existing) Reader. If you really want to continue with RSS, the hot app for reading blogs now is Feedly. The information I have says you can move everything across from Google Reader to Feedly by using the same log in.

Over to you. Hope you'll stick with me!