Sunday, June 6, 2010

Guest Blogger - The Amazing Sophie Littlefield

(insert Joelle's ethusiastic voice here) Please help me welcome Edgar Nominated and all around amazing author Sophie Littlefield to the podium. If you haven't read A Bad Day for Sorry - you should! It is fantastic. So fantanstic that it received an Edgar Nomination. (If you leave a comment to this post you might win a copy of the newly released paperback version.) The next book in the series, A Bad Day for Pretty will be released on June 8th - that's in two days for all of you keeping score. I'll be at my bookstore first thing on Tuesday morning to get my copy. I encourage all of you to do the same.

Now without further ado - the blog stylings of Sophie Littlefield!


I was wandering through Target today with a writing friend who has a lot of acting experience, wondering aloud whether I had gone too far in the scene I’ve been working on. This scene has been giving me fits. The problem is that I can’t figure out if it crosses the line on the tasteless spectrum. I know that I find it pretty darn amusing, but unfortunately I’ve learned that isn’t much of a litmus test, since my sense of humor often seems on par with an adolescent boy’s. This scene is also rather gory, and I’m aware my debut novel already danced pretty close to the edge of acceptability for my readership. Once again, my own sensibilities aren’t very helpful because I’ll tolerate more violence than many of my readers. (I know, I know, it isn’t really fair to stoke your curiosity that way without revealing the nature of the scene, but it’s so far into the series – I’m working on book four, in fact, and book two isn’t even out yet – that it doesn’t seem entirely proper. But what the hell – I’ll just say that it involves severed heads. Uh, several of them, in fact, lined up in neat rows…)

So I’ve been thinking out loud, which is just a euphemism for whining to my friends and making every conversation about me and my concerns. I’ve received a variety of responses to my proposed scene, from “Oh my God, I’m gonna be ill” to “Yay, it’s been ages since I read a good severed-head story.” And while I’m rather proud of the diversity of my friendships, this hasn’t helped me figure out what to do.

Today, though, as we mosied through the toy aisle at Target, my seventeen-year-old son trying to get my friend’s three-year-old son to play dodgeball with the merchandise (yes, we were nearly tossed out of the store, yet another proud moment for me) – my friend only shrugged and said “every director I ever had said it was easier to pull me back than spur me on. I say go for it.” That got my attention – partly because I’d heard it once before. From my agent. I was working on my young adult series and was in the throes of a similar dilemma, having to do with how far I could go with a particular sub-plot for my teen heroine. “Write it as dark as you want,” my agent said, “because it’s easier to cut or tone it down than it is to add tension in later.” Let me tell you how that played out. It was my first young adult novel, and I wasn’t sure exactly where the boundaries were. Moreover, the more I read in the genre, the more the lines seemed to be moving. I had no idea what was okay and what wasn’t, but I was sure that I wanted to explore some darker themes. After Barbara, my agent, gave me the green light to write it as dark as I wanted – and added the safety net of a promised preliminary read before we sent it to my editor – I decided to go for it. I wrote it just the way I wanted to. The result was that it did get toned down. Both Barbara and my editor felt a few things had to go, ranging from language (who knew you can’t say f@#k in a YA?) to the overly predatory nature of an adult character. But the shadow of those details remained, even after the edits were made. The emotional tone remained the same, and – most important to me – I did not feel I shied away from the tough issues I had wanted to address.

Long before my first book came out, I worried about offending readers, and wondered if I ought to try harder to “mainstream-ify” my books. Deep down, though, I knew the answer to that question: I had written a lot of books that cleaved to the norms – like the bears’ porridge, not too cold or too hot, but damn near lukewarm – and they didn’t sell. A BAD DAY FOR SORRY was my “rule breaker,” a mad caper of a book that was more or less just for fun. I did a lot of things that we, as writers, aren’t supposed to do: I made the heroine plain and middle-aged. I let her use violence even when it wasn’t strictly necessary. I let her shoot a dog. (If that’s not a career killer, I don’t know what is.) But it worked. Somehow, I managed to connect with enough readers who tolerated my excesses, and I was asked to continue the series. Today, as my son lobbed a plastic SpongeBob beach ball right at me, I vowed to keep doing what I do – pushing the envelopes and taking chances with the books. Yes, there will be those readers who hate, hate, hate the choices I make. Yes, my editor may end up with a few more gray hairs when she sees what I’ve done to my characters. And yes, I fully expect that my revision letter will contain a fair amount of what-were-you-thinking couched in the editorial notes. I’ve turned in five contracted books so far, enough to know where my strengths lie. And “subtle” isn’t one of them.

What about you – whether writer or reader, do you think there are lines that books simply shouldn’t cross? And can you forgive the author who crosses them, if the story really grabs you?

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Opening Tracks

by
Scott D. Parker

The good folks who run the NPR Music blog recently posed a couple of questions: Do opening tracks on an album matter? What are some of the best opening tracks?

My answer to the first question is an unqualified and resounding yes. I may be showing my age here but opening cuts on an album say something about the album. In some instances, the opening track is a microcosm of the entire album’s worth of songs. Take a classic example: Miles Davis’s “So What?”, the opening track on his seminal Kind of Blue LP. All that you need to know about the entire album is summed up with “So What?”. The vibe, the mood, the beat, the type of soloing, it’s all there. You almost--almost, mind you--don’t need to listen to the other songs.

A particular favorite sub-genre of opening track lore is opening tracks on debut albums. Some artists come out of the gate fully formed. In this camp, I put Chicago. The first track of their 1969 debut is “Introduction.” It is my all-time favorite Chicago track. Period. In this seven-minute song, all that I need to know about Chicago is present: awesome guitar work, tight horn section, ballad-live middle section, raucous ending. It’s a microcosm of all things Chicago.

Other stand-out opening tracks:
“Smells Like Teen Spirit” - Nirvana
“The Girl from Ipanema” - Stan Getz and João Gilberto
“Purple Haze” - Jimi Hendrix
“Break on Through” - The Doors
“Blue Rondo a la Turk” - Dave Brubeck
“Thunder Road” - Bruce Springsteen
“Where the Streets Have No Name” - U2
“If You Love Somebody Set Them Free” - Sting
“Like a Rolling Stone” - Bob Dylan
“A Hard Day’s Night” - The Beatles
“I Walk the Line” - Johnny Cash

Other times, an artist grows into his art. Here I’m thinking Bruce Springsteen. Not to speak poor of his first two LPs but, clearly, his third, Born to Run, is where Bruce Springsteen became Bruce Springsteen. I can think of others: Prince, David Bowie, Dixie Chicks, Diana Krall, KISS, Genesis, the Decemberists.

How does this relate to books and authors? I got to thinking how many debut books by famous authors fall into the former category (brilliant opening work) versus those authors who grew into their success. And I am counting books, not collections.

Brilliant debuts:
Raymond Chandler - The Big Sleep
Stephen King - Carrie
Mickey Spillane - I, The Jury
Harper Lee - To Kill a Mockingbird

Grew into their art:
Dashiell Hammett - The Maltese Falcon (3rd book)
F. Scott Fitzgerald - The Great Gatsby
Dennis Lehane - Mystic River
Dan Brown - The Da Vinci Code
Michael Chabon - The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - The Hound of the Baskervilles
Jonathan Franzen - The Corrections

Seeing this short, and incomplete, list makes me wonder if it’s easier for a musician rather than an author to break out with a stunning debut. I tend towards yes, in the general sense, since an author’s “first published book” may not be his/her actual first book written.

What do you think? And can you add some names/books to these lists?

Friday, June 4, 2010

The writing on the wall (or maybe it'll look better on the mantlepiece...)

By Russel D McLean

I don't know - I really don't - whether to be amused or worried by this.

Yes, books as decoration.

I worry that its not just the books that are becoming decoration. I am no technophobe, but I have to wonder if the way we use the new technology lends itself so well to long, complex and attention-demmanding storytelling. Can we really read a novel length work on a device that allows us to switch within seconds to some other distraction? I'm writing this post with six windows open, all doing different things. I have research windows, story windows, email windows, and this blog... and I'm jumping between them all as I write this post. Fracturing my thoughts.

Would I be able to understand a full length novel working this way?

I don't think so. Not with the same depth of understanding, anyway.

Just as worrying in the article is this quote:

"I understand there are interior decorators who will choose books for you – you don't have to read them, look at them or even put them on the shelf."

The idea - one that always worries me - of books as status symbols, of texts that one hasn't read but has chosen to say something about the reader's personality, is horrific. And yet that is where we are heading. Because books are seen as "important" in the worst possible way, it says enough to own a book rather than to have read it. To be seen with it rather than to know it.

When people come into my house, they often ask, "have you really read all these books?"

I reply, "yes, more or less," and if I haven't, then I'm going to. Because its not having the books that's important, but its the reading them, the interacting with them, the joining in of the private conversation between text and reader that really matters to me. I have books because I love to read. And its not some fancy intellectual thing either; I love books in the same way I love movies, and even some computer games. Its about the narrative, the reaction and interaction between the entertainment itself and the person being entertained.

I sometimes think we have forgotten what books are and how to use them, how to interact with them. They are not indicators of intelligence, neccesarily. They are a means of communication. They can be entertainment.

Overhearing a parent talking to their child the other day, they said, "books are what make you smart."

No, I thought. Books are something fun. Books are a way into another world. Don't tell the child "books will make you smart" because that's not a compelling argument and its what's got us into this situation in the first place, where books can be a status symbol or mere decoration designed to make us think something about the owner that is not neccesarily true.

I love books and I buy books because they remain the ideal method of telling a certain type of story. And the idea of them being mere decoration is a mockery of the very reasons they were written in the first place.