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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As we reflect on our time at The New School this month, I am predicting a repeating theme: yes, this degree and endeavor was worth it for ME personally, but I wouldn’t say it’s ALWAYS worth it.

In the course of my time at The New School, I managed to finish three complete drafts for three separate novels and start countless others; I landed an awesome agent, Kate McKean; and I sold my first book in a two-book deal to Bloomsbury. I am 100 percent certain that this would not have happened if I had not taken the plunge, moved across the country and gone back to school. However, I also don’t think I would have reached these goals, and certainly I would not have reached them so quickly, if it weren’t for my classmates. And that’s the problem. Who you end up in class with is completely luck, right?

Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be. When I think about it, our class did practical things that lead to it’s effectiveness. So maybe we should talk about actual steps that will make an MFA, especially The New School Writing for Children MFA, worth it.

1. Write WAY MORE than required. You’re only going to be submitting every few weeks, but you need to write everyday. In my first semester I imposed a two hour a day rule on myself and I was disciplined. I would come home from work, turn my phone off, disconnect my internet, and set an alarm. Then I would sit at my computer until the alarm went off.  By the time I was required to submit my first ten pages, I had close to 80. When it was time for me to submit, I would then go back and edit the ten pages I was going to send. I would have a much better sense of the shape of the whole because I had so much more written. This made it much easier to weed out the helpful criticism during critique.

2. Find a small group of serious writers from within your class and form an extra critique group. Meet regularly and be dedicated to it. Sona, Corey, Dhonielle, Amy and I did this for the first two semester and Sona, Corey, Alyson, Dhonielle, Lenea and I have done this for the final semester. This has been incredibly valuable to me because I get more written with more deadlines, because I get to have a dialogue about my work, and because I get invested in voices outside my own. It’s easier for me to have a realistic (and not overly negative) opinion of my own work when I’m very invested in others’ as well.

3. Start a project together. I think we would all agree that Teen Writers Bloc helped us to become a unit. It also gives us a way to stay connected to each other and our writing after we graduate.  And, when at times we were perhaps a bit frustrated with some select teachers, Teen Writers Bloc helped us feel supported and reminded us that there is a larger purpose to our writing than what’s happening in class.

4. After the first semester, your classmates are going to know your writing better than your teachers do, because they will have read more of it. Find the voices from your classmates that are helpful to you and listen to them. Listen to your teachers, but remember that they’re only with you for a semester. So you also need to find helpful critiquers among your peers.

5. Find the classmates who really know the business and talk post-drafting. Talk about query letters, agents, publishing houses, promotion, and other aspects of the business. Share agent stories. Share queries. (Heck, Sona basically wrote my query for me, and Mary helped me land an agent.). Get invested in each others’ careers because different people have different strengths. Use yours to benefit the entire class, and then tap on others’ shoulders.

6. Trade full manuscripts before your query. You need someone to read from beginning to end, not just in little spurts, and your best bets are going to be the people in your class, provided you have invested in their writing and careers as well.

7. Become friends. Go for drinks or coffee. Take a walk. Throw a holiday party like Corey did for us first semester. Ultimately, this was a positive experience of most of us, but with a huge side of frustration, disappointment, and lack of control. That’s what happens when you’re really passionate about your career. You will need your friends to commiserate and celebrate with, because no one else will understand what you’re talking about. And because sometimes you need to get a good gripe out before you can get back to work.

Photo Credit: Institute Childrens Lit

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A few weeks ago, I found myself back at my old magazine stomping grounds, a sky rise in midtown Manhattan where millions are made (and perhaps lost) every day, where the pace can make your head spin, where an average day could run 14 hours. I had the opportunity to chat about a short stint, just three months. And as much as I’ve been satisfied with my life since I left that world, I had to admit, I missed it. I missed my colleagues (hi Ericka!) and the thrill of the scoop. I missed the satisfaction of seeing the finished product on the page and knowing people would be enjoying it. I also missed the steady paycheck, the health insurance, the movie screenings…

It was weird. More than five years ago, I decided to go freelance — and I still very clearly remember the reasons why. I wanted a saner schedule, more time for my family — and, perhaps most importantly, more time for my writing. But being in that building again, I kept kept imagining where I’d be if I’d never left. Perhaps an editor in the very department I’d be filling in for. The short-term gig seemed idyllic, actually. Regular hours, a decent paycheck, a pace I could easily manage and a topic I found entertaining. But between the start date and the schedule, I knew it would mean a summer of struggling to squeeze in any writing. To be sure, writing fiction is a scarier, less stable path (although many freelance journalists reading this would laugh at that statement). But it’s one I definitely want to pursue.

I’ve long lamented on this site my lack of ability to finish a book. And now, as we wrap up our final semester at The New School, I’m finally coming close. I’ve been making steady progress on my thesis project, and I’m also nearly done with a solid draft of the other work-in-progress. By this summer, if I really focus and take my work seriously — if I treat writing fiction like a job — I could have two finished books. But that’s a big if.

It’s really easy for me to say work gets in the way. Because it does, to a degree. As a wife and a mother in a two-income household, I need to carry my weight. And as far as work goes, my job is pretty fun. But the freelance life brings with it a feast or famine mentality, which makes it hard for me to say no. (And I know others who suffer from the same malady. Yes, I’m calling you out, Dhonielle!) But it’s not the only thing. There’s that kid I’ve got. I’m drowning in guilt over all the time she spends at daycare. So every minute I can spend with her, I will. And there’s my handsome, smartie pant husband, whom I sometimes miss even though I see him every day. Plus, I have great family and friends and classmates whom I enjoy and want to spend time with. All of this before I even start to ponder picking up a book or watching Days of Our Lives. 

Where does that leave writing time? Too frequently, at the bottom of the list. But I’ve decided to change that. Bringing myself to turn down that short-term gig was my first step in recommitting to moving writing to the top of the list. As my husband often reminds me, its now or never. I have this brilliant opportunity to really focus on something I’m passionate about in grad school. So few people get that opportunity (or have such supportive spouses and family members). I need to make the most of it. And it doesn’t have to have an expiry date. My commitment to writing doesn’t have to go poof like a pumpkin come our May 17th graduation. That day should only mark the beginning.

So with that in mind, my spring cleaning goal is to start prioritizing my writing. This week, I wrote nearly 20 new pages. I gave work a solid few hours, but spent the rest of my time focusing on writing. I’ve still got half a thesis to finish, and I want it to be a solid start to my novel. That means giving it the time it deserves. That means giving myself the time I deserve.

Photo courtesy marset544/Flickr

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Okay, I’ll admit it. For the longest time, I would deny — to anyone who cared enough to ask — that I had a book in me. The idea of writing something so engrossing, so candid, so artful as a novel? Nope, not me. I couldn’t do that. I just didn’t have it in me.

It’s not an inferiority complex. Really, it’s not. But as intelligent as the SATs and GREs might deem me, I’ve always been fluff. That’s long been my thing. Writing about entertainment for a living sort of sealed my fate, in a way. And then, writing scripts, it was never that heavy, pedantic, indie route for me. It was go big or go home. High concept all the way, baby. Or as my husband likes to say, I’m all masala, all the time.

Which is why, two years ago, when he suggested I go to grad school to get my MFA, I scoffed. I wasn’t the MFA-type. I was hardly literary, after all. But I’m thankful I went, and I’m grateful for the astounding variety of books I’ve had the pleasure of reading through this program (including my classmates’ own). Books that are sometimes as deceptively fluffy as my own, and books that sometimes cut to the very bone.

So all of this is my typically long-winded way of saying that there have been countless authors, some male, but mostly female (again — including my classmates!), that have inspired me to — now that I have maybe, kind of accepted that I have a book (or perhaps a dozen) in me — try to temper all that masala with a maybe a small dose of lyricism.

Because the startling beauty of their way with words leaves me a bit breathless, a bit wistful, a bit hopeful that someday, maybe, I could write something that might also make someone stop and ponder, for just a second, something that hits so close to home.

Here are two very different writers who have caused me to just that:

Laurie Halse Anderson: I read Speak for the first time when I was in college, and the book shocked and moved me. It was so understated, you almost missed what happened all together. And yet, every page carried the pain of that life-changing experience on it. It was art, the way LHA wove that tale together, so seemingly effortless yet carefully crafted. And in my first semester at the New School, in David Levithan’s class, we read her latest, Wintergirls. Through that book, I learned how the so-called “problem novel” could be elevated to so much more than that, how one character’s story could illuminate a whole world, how structure and story could meld seamlessly into something that could stick with the reader possibly forever.

Kamila Shamsie: You won’t find Pakistani writer Shamsie’s works at your local Barnes & Noble. Her books, like Salt And Saffron and Kartography, are just too foreign, too literary, too flightful. But it’s definitely worth tracking down, if you can. She creates sprawling family sagas with startling parallels and gorgeous, understated language — all while touching down to the mundane, like that instant crush on a boy you just met, in the most lyrical of ways.

What books have aspired you to make your own writing better?

Photo courtesy Bloomsbury

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Way back in the day, when I was just starting out as in journalism, I worked briefly with Aimee Agresti, who was then an editor at the since-shuttered but always fabulous Premiere magazine. So when I heard that Aimee was releasing her first novel, the hotly-anticiapated Illuminate, the first in a trilogy, I knew we had to nab her for a quick chat for TeenWritersBloc.com. Thankfully, she graciously agreed! Herewith, Aimee!

Tell us a bit about yourself and how you became a writer? 

Hi there! Thanks for having me! Before Illuminate, I was a writer firmly entrenched in the world of facts, so the leap to fiction has been a great new adventure. I majored in journalism at Northwestern and spent years writing for entertainment magazines, which was just as fun as it sounds! Most recently I was a staff writer for Us Weekly, a fabulous place full of great people. But I always dreamed of writing novels. I grew up reading everything in sight so writing Illuminate and seeing it on the shelves now has all been such a thrill!

Can you give us a quick synopsis of  Illuminate? How did you come up with the concept for the book? 

Sure! Illuminate is about a teen angel who’s forced to battle a pack of gorgeous, soul-stealing devils and ends up falling in love with one of them. But, of course, there’s so much more to it than that! Illuminate is a wonderful stew of so many things I adore. The first germ of the idea came from my love of The Picture of Dorian Gray. I thought it would be fascinating to update it and kept thinking, What would you have given your soul for when you were in high school? Then I added a few twists, some angels and devils, and, most importantly, a strong heroine. I grew up on Nancy Drew mysteries and loved Nancy’s fearlessness and confidence. I wanted my protagonist to be a girl who didn’t necessarily start out so sure of herself, but who became a force to be reckoned with by the end.

The book is set in a hotel. How did you decide on that for the setting? And you’re writing about angels and devils — did you dig into the canon on this?

I went to college in Chicago and I always knew it would be the perfect place to set a mystery. I loved its wild history — Capone, prohibition, and all those amazing tunnels beneath the city. What better place to serve as a backdrop for all sorts of sinister goings-on?

To get access to those tunnels AND to give my characters a fun place to call home, I decided to resurrect the Lexington Hotel — which is no longer standing. I liked the glamour element that came with living in a hotel. Dorian Gray is full of beauty and luxury, he lives in a pretty posh pad, so I wanted the setting to be special. I did look at old pictures of the Lexington but, since it no longer exists, I gave myself carte blanche to modernize it and make all sorts of changes. Illuminate‘s Lexington is a newly renovated version. (Capone sure didn’t have a spa when he lived there!)

As for the angels and devils: I wanted my characters to be angels because I thought learning to fly was a great metaphor for growing up. Since these are my particular angels and devils, I created some new myths and legends and history for them. I’m hoping readers come to the book ready to watch a whole new world unfold!

If I’m not mistaken, Illuminate is the first in a series. Can you talk about the challenges of planning ahead for books two, three, and so on?

I always envisioned Illuminate as the beginning of a trilogy. There are three tests these characters need to complete to earn their wings, so each book represents one of those tests. I’ve, of course, never written a series before, so I have a whole new appreciation now for all those authors who have done it so well!

There’s a lot of planning involved. I always need to map everything out, that’s just how I roll, I tend to outline like crazy before I start writing. But even so, there are certain little bits that I had planned for Book Two that went into Illuminate. And now, as I’m working on Book Two, there are certain bits that I was saving for Book Three that I can’t resist using now. Even with so much planning, you still have to let a book lead you sometimes!

What’s your writing process? What does a typical writing day look like? 

Good questions! When I’m in Total Writing Mode, I have to admit, I become a little anti-social! I tend to stay tucked away in my apartment pretty much chained to my laptop from morning until mid-afternoon and I try to stay off of email, too. At some point, to prevent from becoming a complete recluse, I’ll emerge for a coffee break. And when I need a change of scenery, I’ll head to a museum to write. I live in DC, surrounded by the Smithsonians, and I absolutely love to write in the courtyard of the Portrait Gallery.

I tend to stop working in the late afternoon/early evening, but if it’s going especially well then I’ll pick things back up again at night, which can be the most wonderful, peaceful time to write.

Of course, this is my schedule in theory. It doesn’t always go so smoothly! I’ve had to amend it a little bit while working on the sequel to Illuminate because I had a baby boy a few months ago! He calls the shots!

What has your path to publication been like? What’s been the most surprising part of the process for you? 

The most surprising part of the process has probably been how well-cared for I’ve been. My editor is absolutely fantastic and I’ve learned so much from her. My agent is actually a friend of mine and she’s been so wonderful guiding me through every step of the way. And the whole team at HMH has been tremendous — from the fabulous cover designer to the publicist, who has been such a true champion of the book. I’m a lucky girl!

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever gotten? What advice would you yourself give aspiring authors?

Write, write, write! The great thing about writing is that the more you do it, the better you get. I wrote so many unpublished stories before this, but I know that all of that work made me better. And I like to think that every time I sit down at my laptop, I continue to get better.

What was your favorite book when you were a teenager? What are you reading now?

The Catcher in the Rye was my all-time favorite as a teen and it still is. I still reread it all the time, I love Holden Caulfield! But I had so many favorites as a kid: Alice in Wonderland, Little Women, the entire Nancy Drew series, Roald Dahl’s The Witches, so many!

Right now, I have a towering to-be-read pile and I’m always hopelessly behind. I just took a tiny break from YA to finally, finally, finally read The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. (I know, so late, forgive me!) And now I’m back to YA and just started The Catastrophic History of You and Me by Jess Rothenberg. A girl who dies of a broken heart?! Such a brilliant premise.

What’s next for you writing-wise (and otherwise!)?

I’m working on the sequel to Illuminate right now. It should be out next year! You can keep tabs on it at aimeeagresti.com!

Do you believe in being part of a “bloc” of writers? Are critique groups and writing communities helpful to you?

I love writers supporting each other in any way or form — whether it’s championing each other’s work in the blogosphere or whether it’s actually taking a critical look at something before it’s a finished product. For me, I find it comforting to connect with folks who are sharing an experience, and, though it isn’t any formal group, I’ve been lucky to have a few individual writers I go to to compare notes on navigating the world of publishing and to talk about our work. We tend to share our writing before it’s out in the world, but after we’ve done a good amount of revising and feel it’s in pretty good shape.

When it comes to getting real, solid constructive criticism on early drafts, I turn to my trusted first reader: my sister, Karen! She’s extremely well-read, has a sharp eye, and is honest. She’ll tell me if certain things aren’t working. She’ll pinpoint what I need more or less of. She asks great questions and gives me the kinds of notes I need to hear. I listen to her, and I’m always glad that I do! Our deal is that she reads a draft, prepares her notes and then I take her out to dinner and we talk about it all. It’s a good time!

Thanks Aimee, for taking the time to chat with us! We’re so excited to check out the series! 

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A few years ago, when my sister Meena and I first started writing screenplays, we pondered this: do we make our protagonist a brown girl like us? Or a white girl like most of the members of some vague future audience for our films?

At first, it was a bit of a no-brainer. Did we want to actually sell a script? Why yes, we did. So we wrote about a white girl. Relatable. Fun. And still, deep down, a bit like us. Did she not suffer from frizzy, uncontrollable hair? Did she not have a bitchy boss from hell who made her life miserable? Did she not lust after the exact wrong guy? See?

But we weren’t satisfied with just that. So we made sure we put a brown character into the script, albeit in a small role. Then a funny thing happened when we were taking pitch meetings in big, bad Hollywood. When they inevitably asked what else we were working on (they always ask that, by the way), we told them about this little project I’d been developing for my thesis script at NYU, you know, the back pocket one that you’ll eventually have to make yourself because it’s so specific. It was about another floundering twenty-something (our specialty!) in the city who fell for the wrong guy, had the bitchy boss, and was essentially just a hot mess.

But this feisty chick — well, she was brown. Like us. There was something about her, though, that made her relatable to all those aforementioned potential white girls in that imaginary audience. And so that ended up being the script that everyone wanted to talk about, that everyone wanted to work with us on. It didn’t hurt, also, that Bend It Like Beckham was a surprise hit, and Monsoon Wedding had done well right before that. But of course, by the time we’d worked out all the kinks with our would-be producers, another flick with subcontinental flavor had TANKED, and so we lost our shot.

Writing fiction has been an interesting journey for me in this regard, especially when compared to the previously ethnically barren landscape of Hollywood. (Now, there’s a requisite brown sidekick on every hit sitcom or drama. I’m not kidding. I could make a whole slideshow full. Maybe I will, in fact.) (Anyway, I digress.) Given the healthy interest in South Asian Diaspora fiction the past decade, I didn’t feel nearly as intimidated writing an ethnic character as I had in the past. There’s room in publishing for brown folks like me, at least to a certain degree — and in a certain market. (Mostly literary fiction.) But! And you knew there was a but!

There are still some stories that I want to write that don’t really have anything at all to do with being a brown girl. Case in point? My first YA project, which is about as high concept as they come. If I made one of the two protagonists an Indian girl, it would leave readers scratching their heads. Why did the author make that choice? What does it bring to the text? In that novel, it really wouldn’t bring a whole lot to the text. But, as always, I want to represent. So I did put an Indian girl into the book — in a bit of an unexpected way. And there’s a black character in it, too, but not just to make it uber-diverse. It’s in a way that makes sense for the story and the character. The book isn’t about race, really. But the diversity adds a layer to the text. It works in the novel without overtaking the novel.

My second work-in-progress — my thesis project — is a whole ‘nother story. Ethnic identity is one of the key components in this book. It has a flavor to it, if you will. One of the biggest challenges I’m facing in working on my thesis project is that I’m writing three narrators — and they’re all brown girls, all from New Jersey, all Upper Middle class. All too easily, these three voices could meld together and sound the same, given their shared history and ethnicity, their shared community. But you see, that’s where the other components of storytelling come into play here. These are three very different characters — each has a different want, a different way of achieving it or expressing it, a different take on the world. Or at least I hope they will. The key for me in telling this story is to not just make them three brown girls. It’s the universality of the situations they face — the heart of the novel is about the implosion of a friendship, something that’s relatable to most readers. The setting and culture is specific — and therefore, I’m hoping, interesting in its own right — but the conflict is universal, graspable by a wider audience. Essentially, what I’m trying to say is that I’m not just writing a book about brown girls for brown girls, but rather a book about these girls, who happen to be brown, but they’re also very much just…girls.

That’s kind of how I view writing ethnicity. Do I always write what I know? Not exactly. But there’s usually some intrinsic part of the character that I can relate to, something that makes the character universal in some way. The angst of the character, their hovering mother, their bond with a sibling, the way they tie their shoes or hate their job or eat breakfast for dinner. My characters tend to be human, after all. (No sci-fi here.) With all my writing, it seems, I’m trying to tell an everygirl story in a specific and interesting way. Kind of like with that script that was a hot property for ten Hollywood seconds.

And that script, by the way? The story’s still in my back pocket. Maybe you’ll read it one day — in novel form.

Photo Courtesy Mirabai Films

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So remember that head start on my thesis I mentioned last month? Well, that’s long gone. In fact, I waited until today, the last day of January, to post this because I was hoping that somehow I would manage to salvage some of this month and actually have good news to report on the writing front.

Sadly, I don’t. Yes, I’ve been doing some work here and there on both my light fantasy YA and my thesis project. But things aren’t going nearly as smoothly as I hoped they would. Dhonielle suggests this might have something to do with the fact that, since we got back from our two-week break in Hawaii, I’ve had no semblance of a routine at all. And me thinks she’s right. I need routine. I crave routine. And back when I was full-time on staff, some five years ago, I used to have it. I’d work for about a zillion hours, then veg out in front of the TV for a few, then sit down with my sister and put a good dent into a screenplay. Having a partner really helped me — if one of us was feeling lazy, the other would enforce the rule that we had to push through. We had a mutual goal we were working toward, and we needed to get there, plain and simple.

Working solo is much harder for me. I’m my own boss — yay — but that means that I have to start taking myself and the deadlines I create seriously. I have to create a routine again, the way I did before. Yes, I have a lot on my plate, with school, work, writing and family, but I’ve managed before. I need to manage again. And the clock is ticking. The deadline is real and looming — I have to get my thesis project moving and turn pages into my peer group and my awesome thesis advisor, who’s already given me a gentle nudge. It’s time to buckle down and get things done.

My action plan:

-Have an attainable minimum: this means two solid hours of writing time, at least three days a week. My goal for each session will be 1000 words, which I know is a doable number.

-Get out of the house: This strategy has also been helpful to me in the past. I know that if I go somewhere — a cafe, the school lounge, the bookstore — to sit and write, I will do it. I will not work on freelance pitches, watch a Switched At Birth marathon, or pick up John Green’s The Fault In Our Stars just to read one more chapter. I will work. I will get pages out. This is especially effective when I meet up with a fellow writer, again, because  misery loves company. I mean, because then we motivate each other.

-Set and Meet Regular Deadlines: Thankfully, I’ve already got some in place, because I’ve got weekly meetings with both my thesis peer group and our newly reformed critique group, which meets on Thursdays. This means I have deadlines built in to every week, and deadlines are what motivate me to write. After all, there’s nothing more humiliating for a writer than not turning in promised pages.

-Take Myself Seriosuly: Like I said, I’m my own boss. And if it were anyone else, I would have fired them already. (I can be tough, for sure. Just ask some of my former employees.) I’m too easy on myself, and I need to stop. We’re all tired. We all have colds. People manage work and kids every day. Enough excuses. It’s time to get shit done.

What’s your writing action plan this year?

Comic courtesy Inkygirl.com

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Writer’s conferences are like a quick fix of creative adrenaline. A concentrated take on the craft and business of writing, they can really get the creative juices flowing, and get you right into the thick of things, whether or not you’re a natural-born networker, like our own Dhonielle.

But there is a right time to go — and not every conference is a great fit for everyone. That’s why, when you’re budgeting your networking dollars, it’s a smart idea to take a really close look at what your options are. Especially given that, these days, you could probably find a writers’ conference in your area any given weekend. But which are worth the investment? And when should you go?

It all depends on you and where you are with your writing. A few of us here at Teen Writers Bloc, for example, are gearing up for the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators conference in New York City this month. But others among us know that, as much as we’d like to go, we’re nowhere near ready. Perhaps a summer conference would be a better bet for those folks.

What writers conference will give you the most bang for your buck? Only you can decide. But since it’s a new year (and hopefully, new budget!), we’ve rounded up a few of the best bets for your perusal — and we’ve tried to stick to conferences that would be fruitful for teen and middle grade writers. Maybe we’ll see you there!

Writers Digest Conference
New York, New York; January 20 – 22
Cost: $525 for the full conference, $375 for Saturday only — and there’s even a $275 student option
With lots of big picture overview, including keynotes on the where publishing is headed, e-publishing, author-entrepreneurship,  self-publishing and marketing yourself and your work online, this conference, sponsored by industry magazine Writer’s Digest, is taking writers’ straight into the future of the book business. There’s also an intensive three-hour pitch slam, a sort of speed dating with agents, including YA and kid lit champions Brandi Bowles (Foundry), Susan Hawk (The Bent Agency), Molly Jaffa (Folio Literary Management), Mary Kole (Andrea Brown Lit), Sarah LaPolla (Curtis Brown) and Holly McGhee (Pippin Properties), amongst many others.

Society of Children’s Book Writers And Illustrators
New York, New York; January 27 – 29
Cost: $385 for members, $485 for non-members
Highlights: The SCBWI annual winter conference is the scene and be seen event for children’s book writers. This year, teen favorites like Cassandra Clare, National Book Award winner Kathryn Erskine and Sophie Blackall are amongst the speakers, and there are plenty of big agent and editor names on the panels on craft and marketing, too. But conference vet Dhonielle says the best part of doing the SCBWI events is meeting like-minded writers. She’s found critique group members — and life-long friends — at these events. If you can’t make this one, SCBWI has mini-events across the country — and another biggie in L.A. this summer.

San Diego State University Writers’ Conference
San Diego, Ca.; January 27 – 29
Cost: $435; one-on-one consult appointments are $50 each
If you’re working it on the West coast (or trying to get out of the snow here on the East Coast), then you can’t beat the San Diego State University Writers’ Conference at the end of January. The event seems chock full of opportunities for teen fiction writers, including meet-n-greets with editors looking for YA at Harper, Tor Teen, and St. Martin’s, amongst others.

Algonkian NYC Pitch and Shop
New York, New York; March 22 – 25
Cost: $595 before March 1, $695 after
This quarterly, application-only conference, held in New York City every spring, summer, fall and winter, is focused on getting writers in strong shape to sell their novels, offering novel deconstruction and analysis from agents and editors from major houses (including ICM YA champion Tina Wexler). Writers refine their works via panels and intimate workshop groups, then have the opportunity to pitch up to four industry professionals, including editors from Grand Central, Random House, Broadway Books and others.

Backspace Writers Conference
New York, NY; May 24 – 26
Cost: Early Bird registration (pre-Feb 1) $595 for Conference and Agent-Author Day
The conference spin-off of the stellar online writers’ community BKSP.org, this three-day event is super-focused on making connections with agents, with panels on querying, crafting stellar opening pages, and what agents are looking for. So if that’s the stage you’re approaching, it might just be the perfect way to network yourself into a deal. YA and women’s fiction star Lauren Baratz-Logsted is the keynote this year, and given the NYC location, the publishing industry insiders will no doubt turn up in spades.

Rutgers University Council on Children’s Literature One-On-One Plus Conference
Piscataway, New Jersey; October 2012
Cost: $195 for the one-day event, including breakfast and lunch
This application-only event pairs a small number of skilled writers one-on-one with a children’s writing professional — agent, editor, or writer. The plus? Each writer and mentor pair gets to network with several others at round-table discussions about writing, editing and publishing — a great, low-pressure way to network, and it’s very likely you’ll come out of the event with long-term relationships. As an attending at the 2011, I met editors and agents and authors — plus, many of my fellow aspiring writers, too.

What writer’s conferences will you be attending this year? What are your best tips for getting the most bang for your buck at these networking events?

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Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m not great at finishing books. This isn’t a universal thing — I’ve finished screenplays, I’ve finished short stories, I’ve finished countless articles for magazines and websites and blog posts by the hundreds. But a novel? I just can’t seem to finish one. (Yes, that means I still have about 5000 words to go on that work-in-progress I’ve been referencing for the last year-and-a-half.)

Here’s the thing, though: I’m great at starting novels. It’s the part of the process I love — like a new romance, all fresh and new and butterfly-inducing. I love brainstorming the characters and their dilemmas. I love working and reworking the plot until it makes sense. I love figuring out what my story is really about. And I’ll admit it, I even love outlining. All told, I probably have five solid ideas for novels in various stages of development right now.

That’s the problem. Every time I get into the thick of one of my works-in-progress — the sticky middle, where everything is vague and muddled and the word count isn’t rising the way I hoped and the character has written herself into a corner — I turn to something else instead. Because it’s so much easier to be at the beginning than work something out to the end, even with an outline.

That’s what happened this semester. I have two works-in-progress that were largely abandoned (and both more than half-way complete) in favor of the latest, the one I’ll work on for my thesis. This new project has long been stewing, so it’s coming out in short bursts — and not in my usual form of beginning, middle and end. This is weird for me. But it’s ambitious — following three first-person narrators over the course of two decades — so I think I’m just trying to work the characters out before diving in. In my head, I do have a structure in place. I just have yet to start following it. Still, I’m about 30 pages in, and I think the experimentation has been necessary. And so taking the time this semester to figure things out has been really helpful. It’s really given me a head start in making a good dent in this novel during my thesis semester.  Yay for that!

But next semester, I won’t be solely focused on that. I’ll work on it for my thesis group, and use the newly-revived Monday group to really finish those other languishing projects. Because my main goal during my time at the New School has been to show myself that yes, I do have a novel in me, from start to finish.

Photo by: Wilfrid J. Harrington

Popularity: 16%

The next semester is my thesis semester and I am not 100% looking forward to it. I’ve written a thesis before and the process can be so tedious that I am less than thrilled at having to do another one. The whole getting it printed on special paper thing, ugh! But I am the one who decided to go back to graduate school, so I must accept reality and get it done. Here’s the problem….

I have NO IDEA what I’m going to work on and I have to kinda have it mapped out by the end of January. During the program, I finished two complete manuscripts (one being a collaborative project with two fellow TWB members, the lovely Corey Ann Haydu and Sona Charaipotra), and 85 percent of another one. I plan to have the second manuscript finished over the winter break, so I need to start something brand new.

The blank page is frightening. I have some ideas milling about and some old projects that can be re-worked, but I am having a fear of commitment. I think part of my problem is that I’ve been tutoring too much and I can’t access the creative part of my brain right now, so I am exhausted and the thought of one more thing to do is just not exciting. So I am resolved to having no plan. And if you know me, I always have a plan.

Sigh, sounds like other areas of my life. I hope that my wonderful critique group: Alyson, Corey, and Sona, can bear with me as I try to figure out what I want to write about.

Popularity: 17%