Dianne: A Strange (and Wonderful) Public Reading

Anticipating the release of a novel, an author might imagine the first sight of the book on a store shelf, the first signing, or the first interview. But I, for one, never imagined reading my book on stage -- in a corset -- to an audience of 200 people wearing steampunk attire.

I was invited to a reading at Dorian’s Parlor, a Steampunk Ball held monthly in Philadelphia. WE HEAR THE DEAD isn’t steampunk, but it’s set in the 1850’s, and Gil Cnaan, one of the organizers, thought the subject would interest Dorian attendees.

The guests arrived that night in lavish costumes featuring top hats, frock coats, goggles, aviator caps, mechanical wings, fangs, dueling pistols … and lots of corsets! Meanwhile, I was suffering from a bad case of stage fright. Climbing on stage, I knew why those corseted Victorian ladies fainted so often! I’m not sure how I convinced my legs to carry me to the microphone, where I stood under a spotlight. The ballroom faded into complete blackness. I couldn’t see anyone, but I could hear them … talking, laughing, clinking their plates and glasses. As near as I could tell, nobody was paying any attention to the stage.

Trying to gather my courage and catch my breath in that blasted corset, I reminded myself that I’d been asked to come as part of the evening’s entertainment. I was there to do a job, and it didn’t matter if anyone listened or not. So I read a passage from my book in a voice that didn’t shake nearly as much as my knees. Ten minutes felt like an hour.

Then, the master of ceremonies invited questions from the audience I couldn’t see. Nothing. Just the sound of people going about their conversations, while I stood on stage quietly dying of embarrassment. Finally, a bold voice called out: “Where did you get your inspiration for the book?”

I knew that voice; it belonged to my 11-year old daughter. (Technically, she wasn’t supposed to be at this 21+ event, but Gil said she could watch my performance as long as she promised not to order any beer.)

That did it. If my daughter could walk out in front of 200 people and ask questions into a microphone held by a steampunk vampire, then I could stand on stage and answer them. I started to relax, and there were plenty of other questions. People had been listening. It was only my nervousness that had me convinced I was boring them all. After I left the stage, I discovered how friendly and well-read the denizens of Dorian’s Parlor were and spent the rest of the evening conversing with the most fascinating (and bizarrely-dressed) array of people I’ve ever met.



Late in the evening, a fellow in a leather jerkin apologized for missing my reading. “My plane was late,” he said. “Luckily, while we were sitting on the runway, I caught most of your reading on the live pod cast.”

The WHAT?

That was the second time I nearly fainted in my corset.

Carolee: Boys and Books

My son will be leaving for college soon and the event causes me to pause and reflect upon the many ways we have shared stories over the years. It was difficult to read to him as a young child because he would barely sit still long enough to eat, much less listen to a story. It was ironic that we didn’t do a lot of shared reading until he was a teenager and we read aloud from his honor’s English texts.

One spring he was assigned East of Eden by John Steinbeck and given very little time to read this mammoth book. Between his hectic schedule and mine, it was difficult to find time to read together. One night I was on my way to pick up my daughter and her friend from the gym and my son called to ask if I could come to the restaurant where he worked. He’d cut his thumb and it wouldn’t stop bleeding. I picked him up, then went to the gym, got the girls, went looking for a minor emergency center – none were open – and finally went home to drop off the girls, call the nurse hotline, and assess the damage.

After much deliberation, it was decided that to be on the safe side, a trip to the emergency room was in order. Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to grab East of Eden before we left. My son asked what I was doing and I told him that if we were going to sit in the ER all night, it would be a good time to read. He nodded and smiled and I could tell what he was thinking – What is it about mothers that makes them remember Steinbeck on the way to the ER?

We found a couple of chairs in the hospital away from the blaring television and sick people and started reading. Then we went back to talk to the doctor who tried to decide whether the wound warranted stitches, tape, or Super Glue. I was quite surprised to discover that the medical staff was contemplating using something on my son that I could have picked up at the hardware store. Of course their version of Super Glue was sterile. And about ten times more expensive.
As the doctor left and sent a nurse to clean the cut, my son and I continued reading about the demise of the Trask family and it made me think about how sometimes reading and sharing books is a leisure activity surrounded by hot chocolate and melting marshmallows, but more and more it’s a task squeezed into the “found moments” of our lives… the dentist’s office, a visit to the dermatologist’s waiting room, and of course, those unexpected ER excursions.

This past weekend we had another unexpected opportunity to share a book when we took a mother-son road trip for college orientation. Foreseeing that we would spend nearly 20 hours on the road, I suggested my son take something to read and gave him a pile of books with teen boy protagonists, to which he replied, “I don’t like fiction.”

Those are not words a fiction author ever wants to hear, especially from her son, but I’ve always made it a policy to support his reading choices and never criticize them. I work at a public school as a speech-language pathologist. Most of my students are boys, and most of them hate to read. I go to great efforts to try to connect them to material they will like. Something that will spark their interest and keep them reading. It’s different for every one. Over the years I’ve purchased graphic novels of classic monsters (Beowulf and Frankenstein), non-fiction picture books about famous battles, and comedy classics like Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Captain Underpants.

My most recent novel, Take Me There (Simon Pulse), is about a boy who can’t read or write but dreams of being a poet. He hates books, or thinks he does, because reading is a struggle, but in the end he discovers that books and words can liberate him.

I suppose that’s all I’ve ever wanted for my son, my students… to discover the power of words. So as I was packing, I asked my son, “What do you like to read?”

His answer was philosophy. News to me.

I went back through my shelves and pulled out several books along that vein, not too long, not too preachy. He chose The Fifth Agreement: A Toltec Wisdom Book by Don Miguel and Don Jose Ruiz. As we drove across deserts, into valleys, and through mountains, we talked about what it means to be impeccable with your word, how to go through life without taking things personally or jumping to conclusions, and how a person can live in the world while remaining detached from its negative influences.

The experience reminded me of why I love books and why I’m a storyteller. Books of all kinds, whether they be non-fiction, comedy, romance or history, help us think about what we value and clarify our ideals. We may not always follow those ideals, but books help us know what they are.

While at freshmen orientation, my son registered for classes. Among his choices were astrology, philosophy, and physics. On the way home I asked if he would be interested in a book called Dancing Wu Li Masters by Gary Zukav which combines mysticism and physics. He said he would, so upon our return I immediately went down to the bookstore near my house and ordered a copy. I’m sure it will make a nice addition to his dorm room. I don’t know if he will actually read it with his study obligations, his part time job, his intramural sports, and his busy social life, but it will be waiting patiently on his shelf for the time when he is ready, like a seed waiting for rain, an idea waiting for words, or a mother waiting for a phone call from a son trying to find his place in the world.

Elizabeth F.: An Interview with Beth Potter, Associate Editor, Farrar Straus Giroux Books for Young Readers

Posted by Elizabeth Fama

A busy Beth Potter takes a moment to smell the flowers.

A quick profile of Beth Potter, prepared by Farrar Straus Giroux BYR for Book Expo America 2011:

Some of the books Beth has worked on: The Children of Crow Cove series, by Bodil Bredsdorff; Edges, by Léna Roy.

Looking for: For middle-grade: accessible contemporary stories; something funny! For YA: luscious, historical fiction; a murder mystery or psychological thriller. For both: fantasy, projects involving food and cooking.

Loves working on: Stories with real emotional resonance.

Recent Exciting Deal: Syrenka (new title to come) by Elizabeth Fama, a fabulous, dark young-adult novel featuring monstrous mermaids, a curse, ghosts, and murder.

Favorite backlist titles: A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle; Dreamhunter and Dreamquake by Elizabeth Knox; Annie on My Mind by Nancy Garden.

If I weren't in children's publishing I'd be: A lookout in a fire tower in some remote wilderness.

The book I wish I could have worked on: Chime by Franny Billingsley.

******

Fama: What was the process like on your end for acquiring Syrenka (new title to come)? And more generally, how much power do you have to acquire something you love?

Potter: I first read Syrenka on one of my work-at-home reading days about a week after Sara sent it to me. I had read something that was not at all to my taste in the morning, and instead of then moving on to the next manuscript in the queue I skipped ahead to what looked the most interesting... and I couldn’t put it down. (I know, cliché alert, every editor says this about the books they acquire, but it’s true!) I read straight through the afternoon and evening and finished just before going to sleep.

The next night I was headed to a party held by my book club friend Michael Northrop (hi Michael!) and noticed while looking at the invite for directions that Sara was going to be there too. I’d actually not met her in person before so I was able to introduce myself and tell her how much I loved the book over a gin and tonic. I think that having that lucky chance to express my excitement in person, and early on, gave me a competitive edge.

I talked about Syrenka at our next editorial meeting, but for one reason or another it was a few weeks before everyone else was able to read it — and when they did, reactions were overwhelmingly positive. By this time Sara had interest from other editors, and was planning to hold an auction. The auction was set for a Monday, and my boss and I were strategizing the Friday before when he suddenly said, “Do you think she’d sell it to you today?” I said it was definitely worth a shot and the next thing I knew I was calling Sara and offering a pre-empt. It was completely exhilarating.

Our process has very recently changed and we now hold acquisitions meetings which allow key people in marketing and sales to weigh in on projects early on. But the editor’s passion is absolutely the driving force behind all of our acquisitions.

Fama: Can you talk about your path to becoming an editor?

Potter: I got the idea to become an editor when I realized during my senior year of college that I didn’t really want to pursue either of the areas that I majored in (art history and philosophy). I attended the Denver University Publishing Institute which confirmed for me that my heart was in children’s books, and then moved to NYC and started networking while holding down two restaurant jobs. I landed happily at FSG a couple of months later and was Margaret Ferguson’s assistant for several years before being promoted to build my own list.

Fama: FSG still has an "indie" reputation in the publishing world (or at least that's my sense), in spite of being part of the much larger Macmillan. It feels like a place where authors are nurtured, often through more than one book, or even for their careers. Is that a conscious policy? Is it changing at all with the new market we're in?

Potter: This is absolutely a conscious policy and one that we have held tightly to in spite of how FSG and the market have changed over the last few years. We believe very strongly in author relations and in supporting our authors throughout their careers.

Fama: With me you've been a real, old-fashioned, hands-on editor, turning my sow's ear into a silk purse through four and a half rounds of revisions. Many writers suspect that this is not happening as much in the publishing world today. Do you think you're becoming an outlier?

Potter: First of all, there were no sow’s ears involved. It was more like a silk purse into an even better silk purse. I hear a lot about editors who don’t really edit but I don’t know that I have ever met one! Everyone at FSG and at Macmillan in general is quite hands-on, and my editor friends at other houses are very dedicated too, though of course everyone has a different style. I learned how to edit from Margaret Ferguson (now of the soon-to-be launched Margaret Ferguson Books). She is an extremely rigorous editor and I always try to work in a way that I think would meet her very high standards.

Fama: What is a typical work day like for you? Do you have time to do all that hands-on editing at your desk during the week, or do you have to take it home with you? When and where do you read submissions?

Potter: A typical work day can involve a mix of meetings, email answering and general problem solving, reviewing and discussing various stages of projects, writing copy, and hopefully some editing! I do a fair amount of editing in the office but do often take it home. I read submissions on my company-supplied Sony reader and do that very occasionally in the office, almost every day on the subway, and often at home too. I use precious “reading days” at home a couple times a month usually to edit and sometimes to read.

Fama: Tell us what you hope to find in your submission pile. And on the other hand, is there anything you're sick and tired of seeing there?

Potter: I hope to find stories that are engaging, deeply felt, and above all, surprising. I am tired of submissions that feel derivative and/or that lack an emotional center.

Fama: This question has always interested me because I'm a slow reader. How do you keep up with all the new books out there? Do you actually read a lot of them, or mostly just read reviews?

Potter: I don’t worry about reading every new middle grade and YA book out there — I read what most interests me (and hopefully, those are the comparable titles to my own acquisitions). I do read a lot of reviews and blogs and try to stay aware of what’s being buzzed about. And I’m part of a YA book club, which forces me to read books that I might not choose myself. I also have another book club which reads mainly adult books, and read a fair amount of adult fiction and memoir and food writing too, and try to stay up to date with The New Yorker... I admit I have always been a fast reader! In sixth grade my teacher held a contest for who could read the most pages over Winter Break. I read over twenty books and I think the runner-up read two.

Fama: That is the cutest, nerdiest story I've ever heard. Thank you for visiting the Crowe's Nest, Beth P., and for supporting me so unfailingly and so cheerfully these last eight months.

Lisa: On Inspiration

Sometimes people ask me - what inspires you?

People are so curious about that when it comes to writers, aren't they?  Like we know the secrets of the universe and can share those secrets with anyone who asks. I'm sorry to say there isn't a magic key.

I think I believe inspiration is everywhere. Well, some days it is. And nowhere on other days. It just depends. Am I open to it? Am I looking for it?

But I've realized something lately, and I thought I would talk about my discovery here. What often inspires me - moves me to write - is when a song or book or movie or a scene in nature or any number of things causes me to feel something strongly. When I feel something deep in my soul, I then want to work at writing something that will cause someone else to feel those feelings while they read my work.

When I read The Magician's Elephant by Kate DiCamillo a few years ago, I felt like I'd visited a different land. Like I'd walked the streets of Baltese and visited the market square, just as Peter did. It left me longing to do something similar with my writing. As soon as I closed her book, I opened my idea journal, and thought - if I were to write a fairy tale story, what elements would I want to include in that story?  I wrote down a few things. A beautiful flower garden. A bird. A king and a queen. A girl.

It took me six months before I found my way into that story. But always, when I looked at that page, I was reminded of how I felt when I wrote those words. It wasn't so much the items themselves, but putting them together to try and create a magical story that would make a reader feel like he/she had been swept away to different time and place. A place where things are bleak, but a glimmer of hope seems to be around every corner. And a place where story elements are woven together in such a way that by the end, you look back at the journey you took with wonder and delight. I don't know if I accomplished all of those things. But I tried. Because of the story I'd read that inspired me, I really tried. I'm happy to say that the middle grade novel I ended up writing sold to Henry Holt recently (it's untitled at the moment).

Another example I can share. In January, 2010, I was watching the Grammy awards. It was a pretty good show, as far as the Grammy's are concerned. But then, something spectacular happened. The artist P!nk came out and gave one of the most beautiful performances I've ever seen as she sang her song, "Glitter in the Air." I was moved. Moved enough to download the song, which I'd never heard before. Over the next few days, I listened to it over and over again.

I want to write a book like this song, I thought.

I want to write a book that makes me feel the way this song makes me feel.

It was this line, specifically, that gave me goosebumps:

"Have you ever wanted... an endless night?
Lassoed the moon and pulled that rope tight?"

So, as writers like to do, I started asking myself, what if? What if two teens didn't want the day/the night to end? Why not? What was going on with them, and could I find enough of a story there to write a book?

I could. And I did, always going back to how that song made me feel, and trying to bring those emotions to the page.

Did I succeed? Some readers have told me, yes I did. Not all readers, of course. Ha, that's a dream world, where everyone gets what you were trying to do and loves it!

But I'm happy with how the story turned out. The book is called THE DAY BEFORE and I'm celebrating it's release today!

What about you? How do you answer that question - what inspires you?

Troy: Who should be me?

Due to the fact that my voice isn’t particularly audiogenic, has no accent appeal, is low on theatrics, I’ve never been convinced that reading my work to an audience is the most engaging approach for me. I don’t want to bore anyone. At a recent book-signing event where I live, I got a little help from a friend, the girl who represents the protagonist, Kat, in the book trailer for my debut novel, The Dragon of Cripple Creek (Amulet, April 2011).

The portion of text I chose for us to read is where Kat meets Ye, the ancient dragon below the Mollie Kathleen Mine. Since the story is first-person narration by Kat, it was natural that a girl read it. She dressed in character, which included a gold tooth and Denver Nuggets basketball cap. To nudge the listeners’ imaginations, I held up a mask I’d made as I read the parts of Ye.

So, girl meets dragon, they talk, and eventually develop a friendship. But it starts out as kind of a “Who’s on first?” encounter, in Ye’s mist-filled chamber. Here is the scene where the reading began: Kat, who has just seen him, has dropped a gold nugget on her foot.

“Ow.”

“Did you say ‘how’?” he asked in a rusty, crack-of-dawn voice.

“No, I said—” I faltered, trying to figure this out. Logic was kicking in, part of the process of going from shock to acceptance. Was it the fall? The lack of air? The mineral water? Here be a dragon. Here be a talking dragon. It wasn’t a crocodile. It wasn’t a horned toad on steroids. He was staring at me at the bottom of a mine. That part was undeniable—the bottom of a mine—but the rest?

I began again. “Did you say: ‘Did you say, ‘how’?”

“That is what I thought you said. ‘How’ as in ‘howdy,’ short for ‘how d’ye do.’”

Still numb, my mind shifted to auto-answer. “Thanks for the English lesson. But the ‘ye’ is outdated. The ‘ye’ should be you.”

He frowned. “Who should be me?”

I shook my head. “Ye. For you.”

With a note of suspicion, he said, “I knew you were eavesdropping.”

“What do you mean?”

“You heard me addressing myself. I heard your scream. I knew you were close. You were eavesdropping. You had to have been: You know my name.”

“I know your name? I heard you cough—”

“You heard my name. Ye. That is me. Or I, Miss English-Lesson.”

“You are Ye?

And so on. We had rehearsed this twice—I read only the quotes for Ye—and it worked.



I then enlisted a lot of help from the audience. For this portion of the reading, I chose a chapter that is strictly dialogue between Kat, a talk show host, and several call-in listeners. Audience participation was immediate. Volunteers—eight in all—ranged in age from about six to sixty; most had the book in hand, so I gave the page numbers and the name of the character each person was to play. They got into their verbal roles with enthusiasm. Ahead of time, I had asked another friend to be prepared to read the major role of the talk show host. Her confident reading made it easier for the participants to play their parts. A couple of snippets:

“This is Say-so, and I’m Miranda Bates. My guest today is Katlin Graham, a name synonymous with gold, dragons, and the new Wild West. Hello, Katlin.”

“You can call me Kat.”

. . .

“Next caller. Thomas, here in Washington, D.C.”

“Yeah. What the”—beep—“so special about dragons? Dragon movies, dragon games, dragon books! All this dragon”—beep—“it’s about the mighty buck! People are makin’ tons of money off any idiot who’ll dig in his pocket—”

“Care to respond, Kat?”

“I agree. If you’re talking about the fantasy media-greedia.”

“But that’s just what you’re—”

“All right, Thomas, you’ve had your say. We go now to Boston. Rebecca?”

A regional book representative in attendance remarked he’d never experienced a reading like that.

These approaches would not work for every novel or event—it’s not feasible, for example, to take along a character reader on a book tour—but the next time you’re scheduled for an author reading, you may want to explore the possibilities.

Brian M: Reimagining a Classic: Story Breeds Story

First off, reimagining a classic is not a habit you want to get into. Being known as a writer who cribs every plot and character he comes up with is not a good idea. Yet, sometimes there arises in a writer’s life the urge for a story do-over. E.g. “Romeo and Juliet” transformed into “West Side Story,” Austin’s Emma updated to “Clueless.” So, given Hemingway’s famous line, “All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain called Huckleberry Finn.” (no, he wasn’t quoting Owen Wilson’s character in “Midnight in Paris”) what better book to inspire imitation then the “one book.”

In my case, the urge to riff off Huck Finn Thirty Three Years Among Our Wild Indians by Col. Richard I. Dodge. In 1884, before Huck Finn was published (1885 in the U.S.) Twain read Dodge’s book and wrote about 1500 words in the book’s margins outlining a sequel to Huck Finn. Twain immediately wrote nine and half chapters, just beginning the story. To our knowledge, he never picked it up again. (Life published these chapters in 1969; two writers have attempted to blindly finish the story with the title, Huck Finn & Tom Sawyer Among the Indians.) began when I met a man who possesses a book once owned by Twain:

Twain’s marginalia notes have never been cataloged by scholars, so you can imagine my excitement given the prospect of seeing them. You can also imagine the reluctance of the owner of the Dodge book containing Twain’s notes, Robert Slotta, to show them to me. After all, I was merely a midlist YA author. I needed to bring something to the table.

So I did. I wrote a book proposal to Mr. Slotta in which: 1) the Dodge book with Twain’s notes in it becomes the McGuffin of a contemporary story in which the main character, Billy Allbright, is thrust into a journey that’s as adventure-filled as Huck’s trip down the Mississippi; and 2) the story echoes Twain’s distillation of Huck Finn: “...a book of mine where a sound heart and a deformed conscience come into collision and conscience suffers defeat.” But that was merely my opening gambit.

I then proposed to Slotta that should this first book, Adventures of Billy Allbright, be published, we would strike a deal: he would show me the Twain notes in their entirety, and with Billy Allbright as a modern framing story, we would travel back in time to reveal the adventure Twain had planned for Huck, Tom, and Jim after they “light out for the Territory.” Slotta was agreeable and we drank to our lofty plan over some Mark Twain Bourbon.

Extensive research ensued, which you’d better love if you want to write something that’s true to the spirit, style, and intention of the writer/story you’ve chosen as your muse. I immersed myself in Twain biographies, multiple works of literary criticism, and threw myself into the sea of Twain’s writing, fiction and non-fiction, not the least of course, Huck Finn.

For me, research is a bipolar task. While part of the brain was pickling itself in all-things-Twain, my imagination was constantly letting ideas, character notions, plot twists, and turns of phrase pop from the source material. In this dialogue between Twain terra firma and a writer’s imagination, exciting things began to happen. Questions jumped out like, “Okay, if racism/slavery was the big issue Twain/Huck was grappling with back then, what could possibly be the modern equivalent?” My answer: homophobia. Then another question arose.

From the broad strokes Slotta had provided re Twain’s intentions in the Huck Finn sequel (that Huck and Tom abandon Christianity and convert to an Indian religion) I knew Twain wanted to tackle Christianity (which he certainly did many years later). So, how might I follow Twain’s lead and do the same? The answer caromed off the homophobia idea. My Huck/Billy would be shackled with the homophobia of Christian fundamentalism. And Billy’s journey (along a tarmac river) would be a story in which “...a sound heart and a deformed conscience come into collision and conscience suffers defeat.”

While those were two thematic borrowings from Twain, borrowing can also come from tiny details (especially when you’re a research wacko like me). I’ll provide one example to illustrate how carried away reimagining can get. Whence the name “Billy Allbright?”

In the University of California Press edition of Huck Finn, which reinserted several passages Twain cut before the 1885 publication, there is a ghost story. It involves a raftsman haunted by a barrel floating down the river, following him. When the barrel catches up to him, the distraught man opens it and discovers a dead baby, his own, that he had murdered. The raftsman drowns himself holding the baby. The dead baby is named Charles William Allbright. The father’s name is Dick Allbright. Billy (Charles William) Allbright is my main character; his father, Richard Allbright. In my mind, Twain may have been haunted by the unfinished creation of a Huck Finn sequel, and by never finishing it he smothered it in its infancy.

The above three “parallels” (for lack of a better term) to Huck Finn/Twain were, of course, just the beginning. As the dance between the classic and a new story develops, you must choose what to hold close and what to fling away. And just as the Japanese are famous for “reverse engineering” the American auto business, the reimagining writer must reverse engineer the classic, take it apart, see what works, hurl parts around, and reassemble it into something both recognizable and new.

My proposal for Adventures of Billy Allbright eventually became the recently published YA novel, You Don’t Know About Me (the first five words of Huck Finn). As to a hoped for second book revealing Twain’s original intent for Huck, Tom, and Jim in the Territory, Slotta got cold feet and didn’t wish to share the notes. C’est la vie. For now.

However, I did manage to publish one book, and garnered a review from The Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books that tells me I did my homework. Here are snippets from it.

Sometimes the remake gets it just right—not only adopting the plot and character arcs that made the first book great but also manipulating the style and sensibilities of the source text to refresh and renew our acquaintance with it, all while creating a story that stands alone on its merits. You Don’t Know about Me, Brian Meehl’s revision of Huckleberry Finn, is one of those. ... Meehl’s engagement with Twain is flawless in all of its layers and facets. ... Clearly, the book stands on its own merits as an exploration of one boy’s quest to understand the seemingly irreconcilable contradictions of his faith, his family, and his friendships, but it will also make young people better readers of the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by helping them see the ironies and contradictions Twain explored in that book in comparison with present-day contexts.

If just one reader of my book is inspired to read Huck Finn, I would be thrilled to know that this reimaginer was “paying it backward.”

Varian:Writing Across Gender - Men Writing Female Protagonists

A few weeks ago, a current student of my MFA program asked for suggestions on how male authors approach writing female protagonists. I figured I’d share my response here, as it’s not a topic I’ve seen a lot of on the Internet.

But first, a disclaimer:

In most ways, I don’t think writing across gender is any different than writing across race, or age, or anything else. It’s our job to create a very specific character—not just a girl, but “an eighteen-year-old African-American girl living with her father in Columbia, SC who was encouraged to terminate her pregnancy at age 15 and is still dealing with the emotional repercussions of those actions.” It’s all about the specificity, and if that rings true, everything else will work itself out.

End disclaimer.

Here are some of the practical things that I do when writing from a female POV:

1) I get feedback from quite a few women beta readers. I try to capture as wide of a cross-section as possible--different ages, different cultural backgrounds, etc. I know that what’s realistic to a 15 year-old girl may ring untrue for a 35 year-old woman. However, if they both call BS on a twelve-year-old girl wearing stilettos, then I know I have a problem.

2) I write a lot of realistic YA fiction, so I read a lot of realistic YA fiction, especially written from the female POV, and especially written by women. I spend a lot of time evaluating the author’s use of language--exploring which words “sound” better in a girl POV. This is so, so, so true when dealing with body issues and sexual relationships. Some of my favorite books to reference include:

Before I Die by Jenny Downham
This Lullaby by Sarah Dessen
Cures for Heartbreak by Margo Rabb
The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson

3) I explore when things don’t ring true to me. I ask myself if I’m questioning something because (1) I don’t believe that a girl (or a boy) would act this way or if it’s because (2) I don’t WANT to believe that a character will act a certain way.

A slight distinction, but one that makes all the difference.

A lot of people have problems with the blow job scene in Looking for Alaska (I know I talk about LOA a lot, but Green did some really smart craft things in this novel). Some say that this scene doesn’t ring true—that a girl would know what to do in that situation, and that Pudge and Lara wouldn’t ask a friend for advice. However, I think some readers have problems in general with the proliferation of “one-sided” oral sex in YA literature (which I actually have issues with as well). We don’t want to like the scene, or the character, so we label the scene as not ringing true.

I find that responses like this are often the case when we say that a character’s too whiny or needy or mean. For a long time, I didn’t like The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson. I didn’t want to root for Gilly; she was too offensive--almost racist. But that didn’t make her an unbelievable character. Same with “Alice”, the protagonist from Living Dead Girl by Elizabeth Scott. I didn’t believe it because I didn’t WANT to believe it. It made me too sad.I’m not saying that this happens often, but it does happen.

4) I also do as much research as possible. No, I can’t get pregnant, but I can take a pregnancy test. I can walk around in a pair of heels. And, I tie my own emotional baggage (for lack of a better word) to my character. Although my character and I may not share the same “physical” situation, I can use my own experiences to bring emotional truth to the novel. And while boys and girls sometimes act in different ways, I think their core wants--the need to be loved and respected; the need to protect themselves and others that they care about; and so on--are universal.

5) Maybe most importantly, I recognize that each reader will bring their specific backgrounds, experience, etc. to a novel. Something just may not ring true for them. And that’s okay--they have the right to disagree with me. But I hope that my readers are able to see “reasonable plausibility” in what I write. I want a reader to be able to say, “Okay, there’s no way I would have done that at sixteen, but I can see, given the circumstances, why this character did that.”

So, for those of you out there that write across gender, are there any suggestions I should consider adding to my list?