Editor and former literary agent Mary Kole and I discuss her career in publishing and her approach to editing. She shares many tips for how to create memorable characters, how to improve a story's pacing, how best to market a book, and all sorts of other invaluable advice for writers. You'll want to revisit this episode a few times and take notes as it's packed with great content. And do not forget to check out KidLit.com, MaryKole.com, and purchase your copy of Mary's excellent book on craft, Writing Irresistible Kidlit.
As promised in the show, here is the text of the kind rejection I recieved from Mary back in 2010: "Thank you so much for the
opportunity to read BANNEKER BONES. Unfortunately, this is a pass for me. The
writing here is good and the premise is fun and interesting but I'm having a
hard time imagining how to pitch or sell this in today's market. The voice just
isn't 100% there for me, and it really has to shine for me to take something
on. You've obviously a very skilled writer and I know I'll be kicking myself,
but I'm not connecting to the material enough to be the best advocate for it in
the marketplace, and you deserve nothing less. I'm sure another agent will feel
differently and I look forward to reading about your many successes. You're
plugged in and getting there, I can tell, but you're not quite there yet."
Makes sure you check out Mary's original interview when she faced the 7 Questions.
And now, enjoy the fifth episode of Middle Grade Ninja:
Mary Kole worked as a literary agent for Andrea Brown Literary Agency in California and as senior literary manager for Movable Type in New York before leaving agenting behind to become a full-time book editor. She has an MFA in creative writing from the University of San Francisco and has worked with authors at all stages of development and expertise.
Although Mary Kole specializes in children’s literature (she is the author of Writing Irresistible Kidlit from Writer’s Digest Books), she offers independent manuscript consulting and editing for all genres through Mary Kole Editorial. Her services range from phone consultations and manuscript brainstorming sessions to full manuscript edit and review. She leads webinars on the craft of writing for Writer’s Digest and speaks regularly at conferences nationwide.
Writing for young adult (YA) and middle grade (MG) audiences isn't just "kid's stuff" anymore--it's kidlit! The YA and MG book markets are healthier and more robust than ever, and that means the competition is fiercer, too. In Writing Irresistible Kidlit, literary agent Mary Kole shares her expertise on writing novels for young adult and middle grade readers and teaches you how to:
Recognize the differences between middle grade and young adult audiences and how it impacts your writing.
Tailor your manuscript's tone, length, and content to your readership.
Avoid common mistakes and cliches that are prevalent in YA and MG fiction, in respect to characters, story ideas, plot structure and more.
Develop themes and ideas in your novel that will strike emotional chords.
Mary Kole's candid commentary and insightful observations, as well as a collection of book excerpts and personal insights from bestselling authors and editors who specialize in the children's book market, are invaluable tools for your kidlit career.
If you want the skills, techniques, and know-how you need to craft memorable stories for teens and tweens, Writing Irresistible Kidlit can give them to you.
A great way to make your middle grade novel accessible for
classroom use is to create a downloadable teacher’s guide. You can easily put
this together in a Word doc and save it as a PDF.
Look for inspiration:
The first thing you want to do is look at guides for other
novels to get a feel for what kind of content you’ll want to include.
Here are some websites of middle grade authors where you can
find great guides to look at. I found these helpful, but you may want to look
elsewhere.
Some of them are listed on their own page, usually labeled
“For Teachers,” or something along those lines. Others have them on the book
page.
Page 1:
Now that you are properly inspired, you can begin. On the
first page of the guide, you will want to include:
1.An image of the book cover
2.A synopsis of the book
3.An author photo
4.An author bio
On the next page(s):
On the next page or few pages, you will want to include
different recourse and activities that a teacher would be able to use in her
class.
Discussion Questions
One of the things you will find in nearly every teacher’s
guide is a list of discussion questions. These questions should be open-ended
and thought-provoking. Ask questions that are not found in the explicit text of
the novel, but rather implied. These sort of questions will start with the
words, “What do you think…” or, “How did the character feel when…” or, “What
did you learn from…”
You can also ask the students to apply the situations in the
story to themselves. “What would you do if…” or “What would your reaction be
if…”
You should aim for a list of about 10-15 questions.
Activities
Next, you may want to include several activities that a
teacher can do with her class. This can be an arts-and-crafts project, a
performance, a writing, or a presentation that ties into the novel.
Further Reading
If you’re book focuses on a certain topic – like sports, or
animals, or music – you can list a few books on that same topic, either fiction
or non-fiction, so anyone who is interested in that subject can find more books
to read.
You can also include a list of your other books so any of
the children who enjoyed the book can read of your work.
And More
There’s no need to stop there. Use your creativity and see
what else you can come up with. Try to put yourself in the teacher’s shoes and
think of something engaging that you would like to do with a class of middle
schoolers. Or, even better, put yourself in the student’s shoes and
think of something fun you wish you could’ve done when you were in school.
Now what?
Now you can upload the file to your website. Create a page for all your
teacher’s guides or add a link on each book page so educators can download the
PDF and… voilà, you’ve now enabled your book to be used in an entirely
new way.
Melody J. Bremen has written several novels for middle grade readers and one fantasy novel for young adult, The Prince of Korin. She lives in New Jersey with her family and a faithful computer named Oswald. Find out more and sign-up for Melody’s email newsletter at:
Prince Endomer of Korin is not a hero. Nor does he want to be one.
He spends his days in the royal library, poring over old manuscripts, studying archaic languages and playing chess. He’s never been like Krollis, his fearless twin brother, who is an expert swordsman and hunts wild beasts in the forests.
When an army of vizzens, the fearsome old enemy of Korin, attacks from the east and Krollis disappears, Endomer is left in charge of the country. He struggles to find a way to save his people while his soldiers are dying and his citizens are forced to flee. As he fights to gain the respect of the palace court, he discovers a threat coming from within the palace walls. There is no one he can trust.
He isn’t only fighting for his country – he’s fighting for his life.
This is Book 1 of 2 in The Kingdom of Korin Series.
Josh Redlich is a Publicist for Random House Children's Books, where he works with authors like Mary Pope Osborne, Louis Sachar, Jay Kristoff, Gennifer Choldenko and Marisha Pessl to promote their works. He formerly worked at Sterling Publishing on titles ranging from children's picture books to adult nonfiction.
Josh is also the Chair of the Young to Publishing Group (YPG) and Co-Chair of the Publisher's Publicity Association (PPA) planning committees.
And Now Joshua Redlich faces the 7 Questions:
Question Seven: What are your top three favorite books?
This is NOT an easy question. I have a lot more than three. But if I had to choose . . . well, I’d probably cheat and give three series instead.
1.Harry Potter by . . . what’s her name again?
2.The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede
3.The Kingkiller Chronicles by Patrick Rothfuss
(And the Oz books and His Dark Materials and Mistborn and The Chronicles of Narnia and Red Rising and Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell and The Phantom Tollbooth and The Purloining of Prince Oleomargarine and The Inquisitor’s Tale and The Night Circus and Uprooted . . .)
Question Six: Could you give us your take on a strategy to market one of your three favorite books if it were being published this year?
For a book I love as much as these, I would probably do a special media mailing of some sort, way in advance of the book’s release. I’d include nice packaging, and maybe an author letter and some sort of book-related swag to make it stand out from all the other book mail they receive each day and really drive home that this is a book worth their attention. I’d also try to arrange a lot of in-person meetings with media personnel so I can tell them about the book face-to-face.
Question Five: What are the typical services you provide and what results can an author reasonably expect?
As a publicist, my job is twofold: media outreach (which includes drafting press materials, sending out ARC and finished book mailings to media personnel, and extensive follow up in pursuit of book reviews and features) and events (which includes everything from a launch event and local school visits to national tours and festival and con appearances).
As for results? That’s a tricky question. In truth, an author can’t really expect anything. Those in media who handle book coverage receive far more books a day than they are able to feature, so there’s never a guarantee that a particular book will be featured, and probably a much larger chance that it won’t be.
Question Four: What sort of author and/or project(s) would you most like to work with?
I’m a total fantasy nerd (if my list of “three’ favorites didn’t give that away), and that’s what I love to work on, too. But I can get behind just about any children’s books (YA in particular), and I enjoy working on graphic novels, too.
Question Three: What is your favorite thing about what you do? What is your least favorite thing?
There is A LOT I love about my job, not least of which is that I get to talk about books all day. I get to spread the word about books I love and help them find readers, which will never stop being exciting. And I get to work with a host of really incredible authors, like Mary Pope Osborne, whose Magic Tree House series I read when I was 6, and Rachel Hartman, whose Seraphina is another favorite of mine.
My least favorite thing about my job? It starts at 9am…
Question Two: What one bit of wisdom would you impart to a writer marketing their book? (feel free to include as many other bits of wisdom as you like)
Build your social presence. We live in a digital world, and the best way to reach the parents, children, teachers, librarians, and other potential book buyers is to go where they are—online! Maintaining an active social media account is time consuming, but it is definitely worthwhile. Twitter is my preferred social platform, though illustrators should definitely be on Instagram, as well. Google can probably provide better tips on how to grow your social presence that I can, but I would recommend engaging with other members of the literary world (authors, book bloggers, etc.) and sharing their news as well as your own. You won’t get followers by only talking about your own book.
Question One: If you could have lunch with any writer, living or dead, who would it be? Why?
J.K. Rowling. I would not be in children’s book publishing today if it wasn’t for her and Harry Potter. (But don’t ask me what I’d say to her. I’d probably just stare open-mouthed, drool a little, and then ask her to sign my Harry Potter yarmulke, which I wore just about every day from age 13 to 22.)
Hello. My name is David and I write Middle Grade Horror. My
first successful foray into this realm, Dr. Fell and the Playground of Doom,
will be available on August 9, 2016 by Crown Books for Young Readers, a
division of Penguin/Random House. As you can imagine, I’m a little excited. But
I’m not here to shamelessly promote my novel, Dr. Fell and the Playground of Doom(available for pre-order on Amazon.com
right now! Get the audio book, read by
me!), but rather to describe to everyone reading this post--yes, both of
you--the horrors of writing Middle Grade Horror.
I didn’t always write Middle Grade Horror (which I’m just going
to keep on capitalizing, so you can stop your whining right now). In the months
and years before I began writing Dr. Fell and the Playground of Doom,
I wrote adult horror. Short stories, mostly, but also screenplays. I spent many
years honing my skill for describing ridiculously-disturbing things in as few
words as possible. I was introduced to the insanity of H.P. Lovecraft and
tripped over myself in an attempt to write something suitably ‘Lovecraftian.’ I
have written stories of gore and violence and evil and corruption and once of
man-eating unicorns. I have explored dark, foreboding passageways, ancient
tombs, eerie graveyards in the dead of night, and the surface of a giant
eyeball.
So when it came time to write Dr. Fell and the Playground of Doom,
I felt I was more than up to the challenge. After all, I was a veteran of adult
horror; Middle Grade Horror was just adult horror with the main characters a
few years younger, right?
Right?
There is a scene in Dr. Fell and the Playground of Doom
in which a child breaks his leg. It took me many, many drafts to find a way of
writing that scene without including the phrases ‘sickening shard of bone
ripping through the skin’, ‘font of blood gushing like a geyser’, or
‘disfigured lump from the very depths of Hell.’
That’s when I realized this was going to be harder than I
thought.
It seems that two concepts that really don’t go together well
are ‘Middle Grade’ and ‘Horror’. It makes sense when you think about it. What
comes to your mind when you think of horror? A vampire biting someone’s
throat--and not in a good, sparkly way? A werewolf clawing someone to pieces on
the moors? An abomination from beyond time and space whose mere existence is
enough to doom mankind to an epoch of madness?
And what comes to your mind when you think of Middle Grade?
School lockers? Algebra? Zits?
You begin to see the issues we’re facing here, don’t you?
The trick to Middle Grade Horror books is to be frightening
without being scary. It’s a fine line. My son is ten, the perfect age for my
books. He is currently obsessed with Five Nights At Freddy’s. But it took him a
long time to actually play the game himself. First, he wanted his big sister to
play it. And his mother. He wanted to witness their fear without experiencing
it himself. Only after laughing at his big sister a couple of time was he able
to give the game a shot. By that time he knew what he was doing, and what he
was getting into. He knew where the scares were, and what they looked like. So
he was able to handle Golden Chika or whoever leaping out at him when he opened
the door.
That’s my audience.
Oh sure, there are plenty of middle-grade-aged readers (not to
be confused with middle-aged readers or readers of the Middle Ages) who have no
problem toying with the dark side of literature and pop culture. My daughter
saw her first R-rated horror movie when she was 11 (it was directed by her
uncle, so we’re not totally-degenerate parents--only partially-degenerate). She
has been gobbling up Middle Grade Horror since she was six or seven, Young
Adult Horror by nine, and Stephen King’s The Shining at 12.
She’s not the audience. No, my audience, the audience of Middle
Grade Horror is between the ages of 8 and 12 and they still harbor the
slightest belief that there may, in fact, be monsters living under their beds.
Not that there aren’t, mind you, but the older kids are armed with much heavier
and thicker books and can take out a seven-tentacled-horror at fifteen paces
without even bothering to stop and Tweet about it.
So to write Middle Grade Horror, to truly write the genre, you
need to give the little whippersnappers a chance to become comfortable with
their terror. You need to treat them like the they are the proverbial frog in a
blender and ease them into it, one step at a time. An example of this might be:
1.A kid the Main Character barely knows walks into the
house, screams, never comes out.
2.A kid the Main Character is friends with walks into the
house, screams “It’s a horrible monster!”, never comes out.
3.The Main Character’s older brother walks into the
house, screams “It’s a horrible monster and it’s eating people!”, never comes
out.
4.The Main Character walks into the house, sees a
horrible monster eating people, screams.
Call it the Horror Progression Theory. Or call it the Monster
Eating People theory, if you like. Whatever. The point is, if you start at Step
Four and spring a person-chomping monster on your reader without warning, you
get nightmares and bad reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. Ease into it, and you’re
a master of suspense with a multi-book deal. Right?
Right?
Dr. Fell and the
Playground of Doom is a dark tale wrapped in a pretty, shiny,
colorful paper bag about a demented and strange old man who moves into a
neighborhood, builds a playground, and gleefully and miraculously heals
everyone as the injuries pile up. Children get hurt (which is generally a huge
no-no in Middle Grade books but something which I managed to get away with
surprisingly easily). A quiet, happy neighborhood is turned upside down.
Parents march menacingly down the street armed with turkey basters. True
darkness is revealed. There’s even a rather large homage to all things
Lovecraftian.
I may not have been able to include my precious spigot of gore
spouting from a dying child’s veins, but there’s enough ‘ick’ in there to
satiate the true aficionado. I even got to keep one very, very creepy and
disturbing element that I was absolutely positive they’d make me remove. When I
was allowed to keep it, I danced a little jig.
We hope you’re enjoying the blog tour for David Neilsen’s Dr. Fell and the Playground of Doom! In
case you missed yesterday’s post, head over to The Book Monsters
to check it out. The tour continues tomorrow on Project Middle GradeMayhem.
David Neilsen is an actor/storyteller and author of the Middle Grade Horror novel, Dr. Fell and the Playground of Doom. Learn all you could ever hope to learn about David and his work by visiting his website at https://david-neilsen.com/. He is not a ninja.
“Such deliciously creepy fun! I fell in love with Dr. Fell! So will urchins and whippersnappers everywhere.” —Chris Grabenstein, author of the New York Times bestsellers Escape from Mr. Lemoncello’s Library and The Island of Dr. Libris When the mysterious Dr. Fell moves into the abandoned house that had once been the neighborhood kids’ hangout, he immediately builds a playground to win them over. But as the ever-changing play space becomes bigger and more elaborate, the children and their parents fall deeper under the doctor’s spell. Only Jerry, Nancy, and Gail are immune to the lure of his extravagant wonderland. And they alone notice that when the injuries begin to pile up on the jungle gym, somehow Dr. Fell is able to heal each one with miraculous speed. Now the three children must find a way to uncover the doctor’s secret power without being captivated by his trickery.
You found an agent (lucky dog) and got published (yippee!)
Now you have this bright shiny book in your hands…and it
needs to sell. Insert an ominous cricket soundtrack here…
Problem: your target audience isn’t old enough to drive
themselves to the bookstore yet. And even if they do manage to catch a ride
there, they probably don’t have any of their own money to spend on your precious
book.
Everything I’ve read describes the middle grade market as a
“slow burn” and that books need to get popular by “word of mouth.” These phrases suck, to be quite honest,
because other than your mother and a few select friends who love you enough to
read your middle grade novel, NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT YOUR BOOK.
Yet.
Enter the school visit.
I taught seventh grade language arts for six years and
during that time I saw the good, the bad, and the ugly when it came to
presentations. Middle school kids are a breed of their own. They can be
intimidating, rowdy, and down right mean if you let them, but they can also be
the best possible audience for a writer.
Luckily for you I’m here to share some of my tricks of the
trade, and most importantly what NOT to do when you make your school visits to
a middle school.
1.Talking to middle school kids is NOT like talking to adults. Adults will sit silently and politely even if they find you incredibly dull. Middle school kids…not so much. Some of them have the attention span of Dori from Finding Nemo. Bless them. For that reason, plan on doing something other than standing behind a podium and talking. Move around the room. Use your hands, expression, inflection, and impersonations if you can pull them off. Basically, make your high school speech teacher proud. If you can bring some visuals into your presentation-do it. I have a book about dinosaurs so I bring in a tote bag full of dinosaurs to my presentation that I can use to keep the kids focused. I do NOT, under any circumstances, pass them around. This would lead to chaos and bedlam and someone getting wacked over the head with a plastic T-Rex. I also show up with a power point with high interest pictures and key points, and a few minute long video clips on the dinosaurs featured in the book.
2.The majority of your audience might hate reading, and they probably hate writing too. It’s a shame, but it’s true. Your job is to make what you are talking about resonate with them anyway. If you are talking about the publishing process, make sure you apply that process to other goals or dreams the kids might have. Throw in some pop culture references. Be funny. If they like you, they are more likely to want to buy your book.
3.They have the middle school equivalent of “Mob Mentality”. Odds are that they are in a larger group in order to hear your presentation. They have friends around that they normally wouldn’t, and this offers more protection and anonymity than they’re used to. It’s like the perfect storm for chaos. Your job is to not let that happen. There was nothing worse as a teacher than having a presenter who cowered and looked terrified every time the kids started murmuring or talking during a presentation. An effective presenter keeps them focused. Even if you need to give one or two of them the stink eye and remind them to “stay with you.”
4.They think odd things are funny. I made a reference in one of my talks to “hitting brick walls” in my path to publishing. Now I wasn’t talking about literally hitting a brick wall. But from the way the kids lost it, I might as well have. I’ll never forget as a teacher I mentioned to my students that my little brother used to “get away with murder” when we were kids, and you should have seen their jaws drop. I quickly had to explain that my brother had not, in fact, killed anyone. When you prepare your presentation, try to think through it like a middle school kid. If you can use one of these to get a laugh, do it. But no matter what, always make yourself the butt of the joke. There is nothing more mortifying to the middle school mentality than looking dumb in front of their friends.
5.Bring something nice for the teacher or librarian that organized your visit. They went through A LOT of hassle to get you there-notifying parents, getting approval from the powers-that-be, reminding students to order your book, reserving auditorium space, shuffling schedules, reminding the students AGAIN to order your book because middle school kids struggle to remember things etc. etc. ALL of that is a huge headache. Reward them somehow. It doesn’t have to be big- a five-dollar Starbucks or Barnes and Noble gift card is perfect. But DON’T bring homemade baked goods. Teachers, especially middle school teachers, have developed a healthy wariness of the homemade baked good. I had a student one year who repeatedly used the excuse that “his cat peed on it” to explain his missing homework. He brought me a gigantic box of beautiful homemade fudge as a Christmas treat. I couldn’t bring myself to eat it…
6.Fake it till you make it. Are you nervous? Hide it. Are you sweaty? Wear light colors and keep your arms down. Do crowds make you jittery? Get over it. Whatever you do, act like you do this ALL THE TIME. Middle school kids can smell fear a mile away. The very first group of students I ever taught didn’t know it was my first year of teaching until the very last day of school. Pretend like you are calm, cool, and collected…and they will believe you.
Perfect the school visit, and you won’t have to worry about that elusive middle grade marketing mess. You’ll have made an impression on readers who will be loyal to you and your books for years to come.
Laura Martin believes in chasing her dreams and she brought that philosophy to her classroom for six years as a seventh grade English teacher. Edge of Extinction-The Ark Plan is Laura’s first novel—and a dream come true. When she isn’t writing stories about dinosaurs and underground civilizations, she can be found in the Indianapolis area with her dashing husband, Josh, her adorable kids, daughter London and son Lincoln, and two opinionated bulldogs.
Jurassic World meets Dawn of the Planet of the Apes in this epic new middle grade series full of heart-pounding action and breathtaking chills!
One hundred and fifty years ago, the first dinosaurs were cloned. Soon after, they replaced humans at the top of the food chain. The only way to survive was to move into underground compounds. . .
Five years ago, Sky Mundy’s father vanished from North Compound without a trace. Now she has just stumbled on a clue that not only suggests his disappearance is just the tip of an even larger mystery, but also points directly to the surface. To find her dad—and possibly even save the world—Sky and her best friend, Shawn, must break out of their underground home and venture topside to a land reclaimed by nature and ruled by dinosaurs.
Perfect for fans of Brandon Mull, Lisa McMann, and Rick Riordan, this exhilarating debut novel follows two courageous friends who must survive in a lost world that’s as dangerous as they’ve always feared but also unlike anything they could ever have imagined.
Do you want to be famous, Esteemed Reader? Do you yearn for the attention and possibly even adoration of millions--nay, billions--of strangers? Are you going to live forever? Are you going to learn how to fly? Are you gonna make it to Heaven and light up the sky like a flame (FAME!!!)? Will the love of all mankind finally fill the empty place inside you so that you can at last feel the sun warm on your face and be at peace?
I've been thinking about the desire for fame quite a lot recently as it's a major thematic concern in my next novel. The Book of David is the hardest thing I've ever written and I'm not entirely certain I want a large readership as its contents are potentially so offensive that they are better hidden in a book available only to readers, who are more likely to be mature enough for a FICTION intended for adults. In a world where director Richard Donner to this day receives death threats for the Biblical parallels in Superman: The Movie, which came out in 1978, I don't want to be famous for writing a book in which I say a few decidedly impolite things about God and religion (but always from the heart).
Yet I also believe in boldness and honesty in the written word. Otherwise, why is the author wasting my time with banality? I believe a writer who asserts some observations about the world should own them, which is why I haven't used a pen name. I'm sort of counting on the high improbability of fame, especially for writers, to bail me out. I want my book to be read, of course I do, but ideally by readers who will hear me out to the end of the story and give it its due consideration, not folks who will start their one-star review at the first mention of "Sexy Jesus." Scaring off such readers early is one of the chief reasons the language in The Book of David is so very filthy.
But we were talking about fame and the common desire for it, not my sudden fear of it as I publish a book that if it were written by someone else, I wouldn't be surprised to learn had generated hate mail (of course it did, the author was dumb enough to say mean things about God and use his real name).
Real talk: most writers, J.K. Rowling being the possible exception, aren't that famous anyway. When Stephen King, who was at one point the world's best-selling novelist and who has frequently been discussed as the standard-bearer for traditional publishing's promise despite having published in 1974, has made an appearance on a late-night talk show, he's often been the SECOND or even THIRD guest brought out after some movie star. Who gives a crap what Handsome McPretty-Boy thinks ("the movie I'm in is way awesome as were all my coworkers I have to see again for the sequel and the studio responsible should continue to pay me lots of moolah") when the author of The Stand and The Dark Tower is available for a conversation?
("Want to know my very important thoughts on philosophy and literature?")
That the majority of America does not value literary superstars the same way they value other types of celebrities should hardly come as a surprise. I'll never forget the day I went into my day job positively beaming that not only was I going to interview Richard Adams, but he was going to consider blurbing my book, only to be met with blank stares from every one of my college-educated coworkers to whom I had to explain Watership Down was a popular novel back when people used to read literature instead of Keeping Up With the Kardashians (I'm not saying I agree with those who are ready to bring on the apocalypse already, but I understand).
Every so often I find it useful to remember that we in 2016 are living through circumstances unlike any other humans have ever lived through in recorded history. This has been true of every generation and will always be true. Past generations may say I don't know what it's like to be forced into farm work and illiteracy and die of old age at 36, and that's fair enough. But those past generations have no idea of the stress of living in a time when you can lose your job, your family, and everything you hold dear with one wrong tweet. They don't know what it's like to walk around with the burden of knowledge that we all have access to.
For example, I'm going to wake my son and feed him breakfast shortly, then give him a bath and take him to the playground and it's going to be pleasant and yet the whole time I'm doing it I'm going to be simultaneously aware that there are over 23,000 nuclear weapons in the world, many of them housed in outdated and poorly-maintained facilities (and those are just the bombs acknowledged by governments). I'm going to know both that Chelsea Clinton's wedding cost 3 million dollars (thank you Goldman Sachs!) and that over 49 million Americans, many of them children, are "food insecure."
I'm also going to be aware that somewhere in the world is Ben Affleck, who's been handsome his whole life from child star to adult actor and he's dated all the famous ladies you would most want to date (and Gwenyth Paltrow for some reason) and he's well endowed (or did you blink during Gone Girl) and he has all the money and he's smart enough to write great screenplays and direct good movies and people love him and now he gets to be Batman and when he dies, the whole world will notice and possibly sing songs about him. Affleck's only a few years older than me and look at all he's accomplished. What have I been doing with my time/why didn't I date J-Lo!?!?
The answers to this query are numerous and self-evident, beginning with my weak jaw that looks very meh in a bat cowl (never stops me from wearing one anyway), and the fact that I can't dance in the sultry rhythmic fashion required to lure a hip hop star of J-Lo's magnitude. But let's not forget that there are over 318 million people in the United States alone and only one of 'em gets to be Batfleck. Even if I sorted my jaw and my dancing, the world's most optimistic gambler has to admit that one-in-318-million odds do not make for great probability.
If you take nothing else away from this post, take away this: read Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. I would rank it as one of the five most important books I've ever read and it has honestly, unequivocally improved the quality of my life. When he's old enough, I plan to share its contents with Little Ninja (sit down, son, and let me explain why most of your dreams probably won't come true). I can't hope to adequately summarize the book for you here, but Gladwell's main tenant is this: the notion of the self-made man is a myth, and it is empirically provable that extreme success is more a result of luck and being at the right place at the right time than it is a result of talent and work ethic, though those qualities are also required.
In other words, if you have two inventors of equal intelligence working exactly the same amount of hard with exactly the same resources and the same education, it is not the fault of one inventor for not being as successful as the other if the government grants only one of them access to a recovered flying saucer. You can work as hard as you possibly can and do everything right and if somebody else also works that hard, but through sheer luck lands the alien technology, they're going to win, and I'm sorry if this is the first time you're hearing that life is not fair.
I want to repeat that: life is not fair. This seems obvious, but it's hard to accept. Ben Affleck really was born more attractive than I was with a better jaw seemingly formed for that bat-cowl and it isn't exclusively (I don't want to diminish Batfleck's workout routines) anything I did wrong along the way or even necessarily things he did right that I didn't do. My parents didn't take me to audition for Voyage of the Mimi to start me off on the path to super-stardom young, but even if I had been born to parents who did that, I would still have lost to Affleck as a glance at these photos should make painfully clear:
V.
(Dawn of Average Attractiveness At Best)
It's okay. I've had my whole life thus far to get over it and a few girls were kind enough to give me pity kisses. Human life-spans are so ridiculously short anyway; it seems a shame to waste one regretting not being born luckier (I WAS born with access to clean water and food, not to mention white and male, and if you don't think that's a good deal, you haven't been paying attention). It might've been nice to play Batman, but again, there's 317,999,999 other Americans who also aren't having that golden Batfleck life experience, so after I have myself a good cry, it's time to get on with my life as it is and find a way to be happy despite never Chasing Amy or V'ing Superman on the silver screen:)
I don't want to belabor the point (too late!), but I cannot stress this enough: Life is not fair. This isn't a sentiment frequently put on posters or stitched on throw pillows, but it's absolutely essential to remember and folks who fail to acknowledge this truth cannot approach the world in a rational way. You look at a child born with his heart on the outside of his body or some other terrible condition and tell me all people are created equal and we all start from the same fair place. Some folks is lucky and some folks ain't and it's not fair.
("Well hello there, Lady Luck!")
Don't blame me, I didn't make the rules. Eventually our sun will erupt in a great solar flare that will destroy all life on Earth (assuming we don't utilize those 23,000+ nukes I mentioned first) and on that day grievances over who did and who did not get to play Batman will matter very little. I believe there are at least two primary reasons why many Americans are both rationally aware of life's inherent unfairness and irrationally choose not to factor it into their worldview: 1. Dwelling on life's unfairness leads to a negative attitude and is a go-to for losers. We've all known or met someone with a sour-grapes approach to life. Because they expect not to succeed, they're often correct. Someone who wants to be successful is better off with a positive mental attitude. It's as essential to the successful outlier as it is to the folks who take second and third place. At no point should my assertion that life is not fair be interpreted as an excuse for not making the most of the opportunities available to you.
2. Continued capitalism depends on the majority of its participants believing they can get ahead and come out on top just as a democratic republic requires its participants believe their votes matter regardless of what the empirical data suggests. As you're no doubt tired of hearing, the top one percent of the top one percent control more wealth than the bottom ninety percent. But Americans focus their attention on extreme outliers in all fields as though they were the expectation, rather than, by definition, the exception.
Being an adult means learning to see the world as it is as opposed to how you would have it be and the world is nuanced. The choice before a person isn't as simple as work really hard, become super successful, fabulously wealthy, and all kinds of famous, OR don't work hard enough and therefore not become those things. Many of the factors responsible for a person's level of success are outside of their individual control. Not all of them, of course, and hard work is so often its own reward. Yet there are factors at play and momentum from the past bigger than an individual and their work ethic, which isn't a good thing to bring up if I'm trying to sell you a self-help book, but it's true none-the-less.
There's only so much positive thinking can accomplish and spoiler to anyone who hasn't read it, The Secret doesn't work. Oprah just thinks it does because in her experience, positive thinking and hard work did go hand-in-hand with great wealth and success. But the media doesn't interview all the positive thinkers who weren't Oprah Winfrey.
I had a psychology professor in college who assured his students that all reality is manifest based on our individual impact on the world through our conscious and unconscious desires. If we wanted to improve our world, we had only to improve ourselves, allowing ourselves to summon love and success instead of pain and misfortune. This is a lovely sentiment and perhaps even has some metaphorical application (like a mental night light/security blankie). But when I asked this professor why, given "the secret" truth of reality, some little kids get cancer, he at first only scowled at me. Then, after consideration, he told me it was possible their parents had unconsciously summoned that trial into their lives, at which point I stopped being bemused by his fantasy and started suppressing my overwhelming desire to punch him in the face.
(I'm Bat-MAD!!!)
Tyler Durden famously said, "an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy sh*t we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact." That he said this in the film version of Fight Club while simultaneously being Brad Pitt made the line all the more memorable.
In retrospect, it's easy to see why so many members of my generation yearned to be famous from an early age. After all, this was television's great sales pitch: watch closely and one day you'll be famous too. Watch Wheel of Fortune and practice for the day you'll be a contestant. Watch a movie's special features and listen to the director's commentary to learn how to direct your own film because one day you'll grow up to do it, or perhaps you'd prefer to be a movie-star, or a famous singer (why not both?). Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous was practically a video tutorial to come in handy... one day. Every year at the Academy Awards I was told to practice my speech for... one day when somehow, someway I would win one, and until then, make sure I pay to see all the nominated films. With a steady diet of television shows about the importance of being famous... one day, it's a wonder American children ever think to be anything else. My great hope is that as the means to create and distribute art become more widespread, we'll eventually see the death of the megastar. It may come to pass that tomorrow's Ben Affleck can only afford one nice home instead of multiple mansions and one car as opposed to several:
(Hashtag #winning)
But I say if giving up one little Batfleck in exchange for fifty, maybe even one-hundred or more actors who all get to make movies and live relatively happy lives, that's a good trade.
Let us turn our attention, as we always must, from acting to writing and publishing. Sure, the mainstream story of self publishing tends to focus on the extreme outliers such as our old friends Hugh Howey and Andy Weir. These two names, incidentally, also meant absolutely nothing to my coworkers and were met with blank stares when I bragged about getting emails from both of them on the same day. So here I must reiterate: if you really want to be famous, number one, grow up; number two, stop writing and do something for which people actually become famous (like recording yourself having sex with an already-famous person).
For every outlier, there are thousands of writers enjoying a life of doing what they love and making some money, in some cases a lot of money, for doing it. Perhaps this isn't as exciting as the prospect of being super rich and super famous, and again, if you want to be either of those things and have the opportunity, take it.
Being grown up means learning to accept life beyond the terms of the extreme outliers. It's possible if you publish a book or more your work may be widely celebrated (assuming Ben Affleck appears in the movie version). It's also possible you'll win the lottery or be struck by a disease so rare they name it after you.
More likely, you're not going to be famous. Me, I'm already internet-famous, and that's plenty famous enough. I've been able to chat with many of my writing heroes (Stephen King's people have assured me that he might one day have time to face the 7 Questions). I have fans of my writing who will buy my books as I continue to publish them and a family that loves me, and though I'm likely never to know what it's like to V. Superman or get a full-body hug from the President, I can objectively see that I'm living a charmed life, especially by historical standards or even the standards of most people currently living on the planet right now.
("I'd ask what's poking my leg, but I saw Gone Girl")
Here's where I should leave it as I've made my point and then some, but I want to share some personal anecdotes with you that may illustrate the potentially destructive nature of a desire for fame. When I was in high school--which was a longer time ago than I want to acknowledge, but Alanis Morrisett was still a thing and acting in Dogma with a certain Batfleck--planning to be famous after graduation was a common desire. We had plenty of graduates who knew fame was a sales pitch and were just hoping to get into a good college so they could score a decent job and have a nice life because they didn't know greedy bankers and corrupt politicians were already liquidating the middle classes.
But there were also plenty of graduates who, like me, wanted to fly to Heaven and light up the sky like a flame. For many of us, future fame was an idea we had to grow out of, like a long-lingering belief in Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Given that some of us went on to factory work and now face an uncertain future of being replaced by automation, having an extended childhood full of fantasies of one day being a superstar was maybe in some ways a mercy. If you're already screwed, why not have some morphine while you learn to make the best of things?
For the Ninja, it meant wasting a bunch of money on a semester of expensive film school before learning some tough lessons courtesy of the school of hard knocks. If I knew then what I know now, I would've read fewer books about Steven Spielberg and Tim Burton and spent more time hitting actually-relevant text books.
But it's okay. The Ninja grew up to live in a nice house and have a wonderful family with access to an Imax theater where I can watch Batfleck V. the hell out of Superman in 3D and I'm living a life that's pretty swell, even if it's not Batfleck-swell. And asking a writer not to be a dreamer is asking him to perform the impossible task of rewiring the brain he was born with. Despite writing this post, I'm still going to occasionally mentally compose my Oscar speech in the shower because I could still win one for best adapted screenplay from one of my novels. Right? Right!?!?!
To date, the small Indiana town I refer to in fiction as Harrington has yet to produce any truly famous people. But I spent some time as a substitute teacher in my old high school and can verify there are still plenty of clusters of students (the delusional tend to cling to one another) hoping to one day be superstars if they can just graduate and get out of the go-nowhere town that's holding them back. And I hope at least one of them does, but if Little Ninja should one day talk such nonsense, I'm going to burst his bubble--not to be mean, but to save him time because I love him and I don't want him wasting his youth yearning for a future that isn't going to come. Because I've seen what a desire for fame can do a person.
("I'm so happy and well-adjusted and better than you")
Of some of the friends I had in high school who wanted to one day be famous, one of them went on to become a popular book blogger and to be represented by my literary agent, as I've already told you.
One of them moved to California where he discovered he's... wait for it... just gay:) And good for him. I see pictures of him on Facebook with handsome men. He's not on a poster for a major motion picture, but he's smiling just the same and he looks happy away from the small Indiana town he grew up in and I'm proud of him.
Another of my friends from way back when discovered hardcore drugs and that if you do enough of them, you presumably won't notice that you're not a superstar and that your impossible dreams didn't come true. A few of my other friends went on to get married and have kids and have epiphanies about how the dream of fame is a necessary Hollywood tool to sell products to impressionable youths and they did it quietly without subjecting their poor readers to overly-long blog posts:)
But another of my friends from high school showed up at both the four-year and eight-year reunions and proceeded to get belligerently drunk so he could yell at his former classmates that although he wasn't famous now, he would be by the next reunion, count on it. I'm sure he showed up at the twelve-year reunion as well, but honestly, the folks I wanted to keep in touch with I have, and everybody else I can see on Facebook easily enough, so I think I'm done with reunions.
And a girl I was once more than friends with is now in a mental institution. Last time I talked to her, she was telling me that if she could just lose 40 pounds, she was certain she could nail an audition and finally at last be famous and therefore happy. She can't drive and she has no money because she has no job and her family hides her away. But she didn't want me to worry. Because as soon as she gets her big break (and never mind that we're ever approaching 40 in an unstoppable, un-slow-down-able trajectory), everything is going to be okay because she's going to be rich and famous... one day.
("I'm so famous and awesome I don't need haircuts")
Yet, it's not her I'm thinking of primarily as I write this post, but another very close friend of mine. She's someone I would consider to be extremely successful. She's raised two wonderful children, she's had a long and what-appears-from-the-outside-to-be-happy marriage, and she lives in a house that while not quite at the level of a Batfleck mansion, is by Indiana standards a very nice residence indeed. She's a very fortunate woman and she deserves her success because she's worked hard and lived a good life. Again, she's a very close friend and I'm too old to waste my time on people I don't consider to be admirable. What's more, in the last couple years she had a bad health scare and had to face her mortality and was granted a stay of execution.
Despite all of this, she said to me in an email (half-joking I'm sure, but only half) that if she didn't get offered a traditional publishing contract soon, it might break her. She quoted Steel Magnolias (I really need more guy friends) and told me she'd rather have 30 minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special. She's since recanted. She's stronger than all that and knows she's living a good life even if she's facing the same long odds of publication and even longer odds of becoming famous through writing as the other 318 million of us. In fact, she's investigating self publishing, which has me excited as I know she'll be amazing at it.
But the thought did occur to her and no doubt it's occurred to you as well, Esteemed Reader. We are living in the information age and it's a hell of a burden. We have to know not only that there are 23,000+ nukes in the world, but that there's a definition of success beyond what's possible for us and our peers.
Previous generations lived lives in which they could recognize their success in relationship to those around them without ever knowing it was possible to be born handsome, land a role in a video series, get work in early Kevin Smith films, win an Oscar at age 25, have romances with both Jennifer Lopez AND Jennifer Garner (and Gwenyth Paltrow for some reason), and to go on to wear the most sacred cape and cowl there could be and fight Superman. Previous generations knew how happy they were without the burden of knowing how happy it was possible to be.
("I'm so go****ed f***ing happy!")
But hey, we have a cure for polio and many of us are living longer than ever and if we can hang in there long enough, the singularity will happen and maybe we'll get robot bodies:) And it's easier now to be a writer than it's ever been in all of recorded history and there are lots of cameras out there these days so sooner or later enough people will photograph the same Stephenville/Phonenix-lights-level close encounter to force the government to disclose what they know about flying saucers and we'll all have access to the technology, so cheer up. Whether you're Batfleck or the other 317,999,999 of us, it's a good time to be alive and it's quite possible to enjoy life without being famous despite what television programming may have led you to believe.
"The Lord has appointed you to a special duty in these last days and given your life a unique purpose. Will you turn away from the myriad temptations of this wicked world and answer His righteous calling?"
The Walters family has just purchased the perfect home if only it weren't located in the small hick town of Harrington, Indiana, and if only it weren't haunted. David Walters is an atheist now, but his minister father taught him from a young age that Satan would one day deceive all mankind by pretending his demons were extraterrestrials. The day the Walters family moves in, they spot a flying saucer outside their new home. Things only get stranger from there. David Walters is about to learn what it means to be truly haunted, forcing him to confront his past, fight for his family, his soul, and his sanity.
WARNING
This horror story is intended for a mature audience. It's filled with adult language, situations, and themes. It's in no way appropriate for the easily offended or younger readers of BANNEKER BONES AND THE GIANT ROBOT BEES.
I have four kids, three of which are in my target
reading age for my books now (9, 11, and 13). And when I’m not writing, I like
to volunteer at their schools—especially in all positions that relate to books.
This means I work in the publishing center at the elementary school (we edit
and produce books the kids write and put them available for check out in the
library), co-organize and run the twice-a-year book fairs at the school, and
assist in the junior high LRC (shelving books, covering new books, and anything
else they ask me to do).
I write both young adult and middle grade fiction
and I’ve found over the years that middle grade books are a bit tougher to
promote. With YA, we can reach readers online: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram,
Goodreads, etc. But your average middle grade reader isn’t on these platforms so
how do we let them know about our new books?
One day I was working the Scholastic Book Fair at
school and I could see the librarian in the corner of the LRC doing book talks
with the various classes. Each time she finished a book talk, the kids were
given time to go wander around the book fair. Over and over again the kids went
right to the book she had been talking about and snapped it up. So much so that
we had to restock that book several times during that week of the fair.
I noticed something similar at the junior high level
as well. The librarian there book-talked my books a couple of times with the 7th
and 8th graders and she said that each time she did one, all my
books were checked out and a waiting list formed.
So approximately three months prior to the release of my newest middle grade book, Cici Reno #MiddleSchoolMatchmaker, (Today! April 19th!) I decided I would go straight to the junior high librarians to help get the word out. With a little
help from Google, I created a list of mailing addresses for all the junior
high schools within a 30-minute drive of me. I picked 30-minutes because I
wanted to be available if any of the schools asked me to come for a school
visit as well. My mailing list came to 175 schools. I then made postcards at
Vistaprint.com.
On the color side of the postcard I uploaded the book cover. On
the left side of the back of the postcard, I had Vistaprint print the title, my
name, book description, availability date, age range, grade level, ISBN, and my
web site address in case they wanted to get in contact with me. I also added my
publisher’s logo at the bottom. On the blank right side of the card I hand wrote
the school name, attn: School Librarian, and the address, and then added a
personal note at the bottom and signed it.
It does take some time but I think
personalizing the post cards is nice and separates your card from standard
advertisements that come in the mail. Here you can write whatever you want. I
noted that I was a local author and what town I’m living in and that I hoped
they’d consider my new middle grade novel for their library’s collection. You
can also add that you are available for school visits if you’d like. I’ve been
getting a number invitations for visits from my postcards so it’s definitely
been time well spent.
And if you have any
postcards left when you’re done (and your hand isn’t too cramped!) send them to
public libraries and bookstores as well to let them also know you have a new
book coming out.
Kristina Springer is
the author of Cici Reno #MiddleSchoolMatchmaker (Sterling Children's/April 19,
2016), My Fake Boyfriend Is Better Than Yours (Macmillan/FSG), a Scholastic
Bestseller and 2012 YALSA Quick Pick book; The Espressologist (Macmillan,/FSG),
a 2010 Society of School Librarians International Honor Book and 2014 Illinois
Reads Book that has been purchased for film by Michael Eisner’s Vuguru; and
Just Your Average Princess (Macmillan/FSG). She has a Masters in Writing from
DePaul University and resides in a suburb of Chicago with her husband and
children.
Middle school is a test, but Cici
Reno has all the answers. She's the go-to girl for advice. She's cool, she's
funny, and she's enlightened (thanks to yoga classes at her mom's studio). So
when her pretty BFF, Aggie, is too shy to speak to the boy she's crushing on,
Cici goes online and does the talking for her. The only problem is, Cici starts
to fall for the guy herself! For the first time in her life, she doesn't have a
clue.
