Teen Writers Bloc

What better way to assess my time at The New School than to take a look at what I worked on, and try to determine whether or not I evolved as a writer, based on the work I created.

My first semester, I worked on an ill-fated YA novel told from four different narrators. It was a quiet, literary, plot-less pretty thing. It was exactly what I was used to writing. It had its challenges, sure, but mostly I was comfortable. There was atmosphere! Voice! Research! Complicated relationships!

The only thing missing? Plot.

My nemesis.

Second semester, I worked on a (still unfinished and unformed) middle-grade novel. I wrote in short little vignettes. Again there was a cute, snarky voice. An interesting set of family dysfunctions. Some keen observations.
And again, there was no plot.

While workshopping the middle-grade novel in class, I was also working on another project. A new YA. And though the piece I was writing for workshop wasn’t getting any stronger, my side project was benefiting from the criticism. I realized I needed structure. I needed plot. I needed a clear arc. I needed (god forbid!) a beginning, middle and end.

So although my teachers and classmates (with the exception of my Monday group classmates — Sona, Caela, Dhonielle, and Amy) never saw this new YA novel, it grew stronger from their feedback. I was listening. I was hearing them. I was accepting that it was high time to address the plot issue.

And that novel? That is the novel. The one coming out in Summer 2013.

This semester I’m pushing myself even further. I’m working on my next YA novel, and this time I’m working on a very plot-heavy book. There’s some mystery! There’s rising action! There’s a CLIMAX, guys! A real-live climactic scene. A true beginning, middle, and end. It hasn’t been easy. I have a lot of holes in my plot. I have classmates asking questions I don’t know the answers to. And sometimes I just want to write a nice interior monologue or some disconnected scenes that have no impact on the actual plot. I want some voice-heavy vignettes or to write one scene from eight different points of view for no actual reason.

But I am accountable, now, for the things I’m not so great at. I’m challenging myself to get better, and to accept that just because plotting isn’t my FAVORITE part doesn’t mean I can just never do it.

And maybe I didn’t learn that exact thing in any one class or from any one person, but it’s definitely a lesson learned during my time getting my MFA.

photo credit: http://navywifeadventures.blogspot.com

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I don’t think I’m going to say anything different than what many of my classmates have already said: This program was really worth it because of the group as a whole, the fantastic other writers I was surrounded by, more so than the professors.

Don’t get me wrong, our professors were terrific — but we only had them for one semester each. And then there were summer vacations and winter breaks and all that time we didn’t have to write if we didn’t want to. So really, it is that old adage of what you put in is what you get out.

If you decide to apply to a program like this one, think of it as a gift, a period of time in which you can really dedicate yourself to pursuing something you love. I think the most important thing I learned was DON’T GIVE UP. I’m not the only person who tried and failed with a first manuscript. And, as I’ve said before, it was pretty devastating. But I still had time. I had a whole two semesters to write something new, and I did, and what was the result? I just signed with an amazing agent, Charlie Olsen at Inkwell Management. Remember all that fear of “Dear Author” emails and crying into large glasses of wine? Well, I faced it, overcame it, and won. Two years ago, I would never have thought this possible.

So, really, it all came down to DON’T GIVE UP. Push yourself. If you’re lucky enough to be surrounded by incredibly talented writers like I was, make them push you, too. If not, find at least one person to hold you accountable. This was not the path I thought my life would take, and I don’t think it ever would have happened without The New School. Are there flaws in the program? Sure. But I don’t regret this giant (and expensive) leap of faith, not for a single second.

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Alas … the dreaded day-job — well, really, afternoon, early evening, and weekend job — is cutting severely into my productivity. There aren’t enough hours in the day for me to make a dent into my on-going, never-ending to-do list. I try and try to get up earlier, take a shorter lunch, sit in Starbucks, but I can’t seem to get it all done. I always have to create a worksheet for a kid or I’m running to make photocopies of test prep material or scooting up to the Upper East Side at rush hour, fighting through the crowds to get to Madison or Park or Fifth Avenue.

It’s a never-ending loop. You could say, “Dhonielle, you have your whole day all to yourself.” YES! I do have that. I can get up leisurely and write. But I’m always preparing or behind, so I need to get caught up so I can use my day-time hours more efficiently. That, and going to bed at a decent hour. I get home from tutoring and decompress with a little TV, and then try to do more work. By the time I’m finished it’s 3 a.m.

And at the end of each day, even if I’ve checked something off the to-do list, I still feel like there’s a mountain on top of me and I’m spinning my wheels.

My list of bad habits that need to be kicked this spring are:

• Staying up past midnight
• Eating past midnight and thus fueling myself to continue working
• Staying in bed past 10 a.m.
• Taking on new tutoring clients
• Ignoring my thesis!

But here’s a sample of what’s on my plate to justify my whining:

• Editing and cleaning up my thesis!
• Completing the last 50-75 pages my current w-i-p MG novel — smoothing it, editing it, giving it to Amy Ewing to read — to turn a full into the agent
• Finishing a massive edit of a collaborative project
• Launching a website with Jess Verdi — details to come soon
• Slowly working on another collaborative project with Lisa Amowitz
• Reading and critiquing

Photo Credit: Secretary of Innovation

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If someone had asked me this time last year what bad writing habit I would want “spring cleaned” from my life, it would most definitely have been procrastination. A trait I inherited from my father, I am a master procrastinator. But failure is a great motivator. Unlike so many of the other lovely and talented TWBers, my first attempt at querying did not result in an agent. Such is life. And, of course, there was a lot of moping and moaning and sadness and feeling like I’d never be good enough, but really there was only one thing I could do to improve my situation: write another book.

So I did. I threw myself into a new project and, by treating writing like an actual job, I was able to finish a novel rather quickly (note: it does help when you have a part-time job and no money, forcing you to stay inside, where you feel like you have no good reason not to write). And now I find myself once again on the brink of querying agents. To say that I am dreading the experience with every fiber of my being would be an understatement — I am dreading it far more than that.

But this time, I am determined to keep a positive attitude. I will not crumble to pieces every time the words “Dear Author” appear in my inbox. I will not replay phrases like “I’m sorry I did not love this enough to offer representation” over and over again until they’ve been seared into my brain. I will not find myself slumped on my couch, crying into a large glass of wine while watching The Vampire Diaries, cursing at Elena because her biggest problem is deciding which hot vampire to make out with. (Okay, that last one will probably still happen…)

This spring, I will be positive. Yes. Happy thoughts. Good vibes. Strength of heart. Of course, it’s easy to say this now. Let’s see how I’m feeling by the end of the month…

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My grandmother used to work at a library as a book mender, and she would always bring me home the most beautiful old copies of books that she’d saved from the destruction of time, and age, and old binding glue. One of these books was a battered copy of Little Women.

I loved that book so much I refused to read the last page, so that it never actually ended. In fact, I still have not read that page, though I probably would now — but I’d want to read it from that particular copy, which is packed up somewhere in my parents’ attic. Louisa May Alcott’s story of the four March sisters allowed me to imagine what it might be like to have sisters. Marmee was like a second mother. I wanted so badly to have Jo’s courage, though it was Beth who was my favorite — I cried like a baby when she died. I’m even named after Amy, because my mother studied art and loved drawing. Louisa May Alcott created a world I so badly wanted to live in, a world of proposals and petticoats, but also of the strength of family, and the belief that nothing is impossible if you put your mind to it. She was an incredible woman for her time, and she wrote incredible female characters — Jo March was the first living, breathing juvenile heroine to act from her own convictions and individuality, rather than the stereotypical young woman depicted at that time. And even though her world was nothing like mine, I could relate to the struggles of growing up and trying to figure out who you are.

Now, other worlds have enticed me — worlds of magic and strange creatures, of battles between good and evil. And these worlds were predominately written by men, until J.K. Rowling came along. Not only did she bring fantasy to a broader spectrum of readers than the genre ever reached before, but she opened the door to female fantasy writers everywhere, allowing them to join what used to be a pretty exclusive all-boys club. Because of her, women no longer have to use their initials to write fantasy for fear no one would by a “boys” book written by a woman. She was certainly an inspiration to me.

It took me so long to discover this path my life has taken, to realize that in writing I’ve really found my true passion. And it wasn’t until I actually sat down and wrote this post that I realized I probably wouldn’t be doing it if it weren’t for these two extraordinary women.

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It is the sad truth that, unless a character is very specifically described otherwise, the majority of readers will assume he or she is white. It’s our default setting. And sometimes, even when a character’s ethnicity is described, we can skip over it, creating our own image. I remember when the cast list for The Hunger Games was released — I immediately called up Jess and asked, “Rue is black? I always pictured her as blond.” To which Jess replied, “I thought she was a redhead.” We both dived into our copies of the book and found that Rue is described as having “satiny brown skin.” Suzanne Collins couldn’t have made it clearer, and still, Jess and I came up with two very distinct, and incorrect, images of her.

It’s sometimes difficult, in writing fantasy, to distinguish races and ethnicities —and often, I’m simply making up my own. My current work-in-progress takes place in an unspecified city in an unspecified place. I have to find other ways to describe a character who, say, I envision as Asian, because Asia doesn’t exist in this world. I want to give the reader a very clear picture of the person I can see in my head, because it’s important to me that this city be multicultural when culture has blended together — skin color has no bearing on a person’s status in this world. I’m not always successful; there’s a lot of trial and error. When I ask one of my friends, “Did you get that the Duke is supposed to look Indian?” and get a, “Oh, I thought he was white,” then I have to go back and see how I can make the character’s identity clearer. It’s a tricky line to walk but a necessary one — because who wants to read about a world where everyone looks the same?

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Wait, it’s our last semester? Already? How did that happen?

My plans for my thesis semester are simple—finish my current work-in-progress. With one book done and in the midst of the querying process (a process that combines all the pain of a root canal with the humiliation of being dumped over and over again), I am determined to stay focused on this new character as she finds her way in a strange, isolated city. There’s nothing to keep my mind occupied like building a new world, and I am lucky to have a wonderful peer group (Jess, Caela, Mary, and Riddhi) there to help me nail down the rules and keep me in line if (and when) I break them. I’m also excited to work with my thesis advisor, the amazing Jill Santopolo, who loves fantasy as much as I do and will undoubtedly guide me through the writing of a new book with very capable hands.

Will it be difficult? Of course. Will there be tears? More than likely. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned after three semesters, it’s that writing is something I just can’t live without.

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When it comes to finding a good book to read – especially in the midst of all the drudgery of adult novels we’ve been reading this semester – I have developed a system which almost always produces excellent results. I call it The Verdi System, otherwise known as “What Is Jess Reading Now?”

My very good friend, Jess Verdi, is always reading something new, either to review it for our site or because she’s got a very close relationship with Amazon. Luckily for me, we have very similar tastes. So every time I come to her apartment, I usually end up leaving with at least one new book to read. So far this semester, Jess’s outstanding library has provided me with:

The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer. Haunting and disturbing, with a great love story and even greater elements of suspense, Michelle Hodkin’s debut novel definitely had me up reading into the wee hours of the morning.

Delirium. The only one I’ve borrowed so far that I didn’t like. While Lauren Oliver’s prose is beautiful and evocative, it doesn’t work so well with the genre. I like my dystopian novels to run at breakneck speeds.

Glow. I loved this book so much I had to start reading it over again once I finished it. The writing is clunky in places, but boy does Amy Kathleen Ryan know how tell a good story with non stop action. It’s like Firefly or Battlestar Galactica for teens. And you never know who to trust.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. Okay, technically this is not a YA book, but I highly recommend it. Fifteen year old Christopher is an autistic boy who tries to solve the murder of his neighbor’s dog. Outstanding writing, and a beautifully unique way to tell a story.

At the moment, I’m about halfway through Crossed, the sequel to Ally Condie’s Matched. I’m reserving judgment until I get to the end. And after that…well, I wonder what Jess’s library will have in store for me?

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I’ve always loved Halloween in theory, but consistently fail when it comes to actually getting a costume. Usually I end up going as some obscure character that only a small portion of the population gets, because I can piece together an outfit from things in my closet. Like the year I went as Starbuck, from Battlestar Galactica. To other BSG fans, awesome. To everyone else, I was just a girl in camo pants.

This year will probably be no different, since I’ll be touring the beautiful country of New Zealand for three weeks, and won’t be getting back until just before the holiday. Or maybe I’ll use the trip for inspiration — find a way to dress up as the eye of Sauron?

But really, if I had unlimited funds and a personal dress-maker, I’d love to go as Mrs. Coulter from the His Dark Materials series. She’s one of my favorite villains, and I bet she’d have an incredible wardrobe. But then, I guess I’m still falling into my old pattern of obscurity. Because who would ever recognize Mrs. Coulter?

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Banned books. Two words that make my skin crawl. They always reminds me of that scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, when the Nazis build a pyre out of literature.

Let’s face it, kids are drawn to dark things. As a child, I loved Roald Dahl, a guy who wrote about kids getting eaten by giants and children abused by their parents. I think the tendency toward the darker side of things emerging in the current YA market is indicative of what kids are looking for—something raw, sometimes ugly, and often scary. Growing up is all about exploration, and whether it’s reality-based teen brutality, like The Chocolate War, or a government-controlled utopia, like in The Giver, these books allow kids to form opinions for themselves, or find commonality and comraderie with a fictional character, or maybe escape from their own lives for a while. Banning a book like The Perks of Being a Wallflower because you’re worried about your child being exposed to masturbation is not only ludicrous, it’s insane. Chances are, he’s figured that one out for himself—he didn’t need Charlie’s help.

What really blows my mind is the violent censorship that the Harry Potter series has received. These books are among my absolute favorites, with such clever writing, delightful characters, and complex storylines, that I can read them over and over and never get bored. So, while watching the movie Jesus Camp, I was shocked when a counselor denounces Harry and his friends, proclaiming that warlocks are the enemy of God, and that, were Harry around in the time of the Old Testament, he would have been put to death. Cut to a small boy crying because he read the Harry Potter books and loved them, and is now tortured by guilt. Did I hate the counselor in that moment? Did I want to silence her forever? Yeah. I did. But she has just as much right to express her opinion as I do to read Goblet of Fire. Take away those rights, and it feels like we’re back to Indy and a pile of burning books.

Photo Credit: Lauren Mitchell Nahas

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