Okay, it’s official: book trailers are addictive. I’ve talked about it before on the blog—wanting to get some practice in before doing the trailer for my MG, THE JUNCTION OF SUNSHINE AND LUCKY. Before, I’d been a bit hesitant to do a book trailer, worrying that the images chosen might be a bit of a distraction for bloggers (in the same way that a music video can occasionally be an intrusion into a song).
But now that I’ve finished the trailers for both of my published YAs, I don’t think I’ll ever have that worry again…
Below is the trailer for my second YA, PLAYING HURT. Feel free to share online—and don’t forget to “like” my Facebook author page. Once I hit 200 fans, I’m doing swag giveaways!
But for every loss of electricity, there is, in fact, a bright spot. No Internet also means no distractions. I spent hours upon hours on the back porch with my pages and my NEO (so many that a “Because You’ve Been Working So Hard” bouquet made its way to my kitchen table).
I have to say that I’m really proud of the end result.
Long story short, revisions are sent—on time, despite our little difficulties. (Whew #1.)
Also, last weekend, Sarah Ockler, the author of the Republic-banned TWENTY BOY SUMMER, came to Springfield for some events during Banned Books Week. Which, let’s face it, took guts. No one knew if any naysayers or protesters were going to show up for the events, or what the overall response was going to be. Thankfully, though, Sarah got a really warm reception from the side of the Ozarks I have always known and loved. (Whew #2.)
Though I was working like the dickens (literary pun intended) trying to wrap up my revisions, I was thrilled to be able to meet Sarah at the Library Center. Sarah is every bit as lovely in person as she is on the page, and she wrote a really beautiful inscription in my own copy of TWENTY BOY SUMMER (an inscription that officially moved the book from the “Favorites” shelf in my bookcase over to the “Prized Possessions” shelf):
Most writers would agree that conflict—or confrontation—can often be the most fun part of writing a book. On the page, conflict is where the story really takes off.
But because I’ve been hard at work, all month, on the revisions for my forthcoming debut MG, THE JUNCTION OF SUNSHINE AND LUCKY, I’m also reminded of another type of conflict that occurs in the process of getting a book on store shelves—between a writer and him or herself.
Every writer is protective of their book. In a lot of respects, you have to be. That need to protect is what gets you through multiple rounds of submission and rejection. It’s also, I’d argue, what gets a book written in the first place.
So many writers refer to or think of our books as babies. (Online, release dates are celebrated as “book birthdays.”) Often, I’ve heard writing a book likened to giving birth. Actually, I think it’s more like being home with a newborn. When a baby comes home, your world becomes about the baby—your entire life revolves around caring for and protecting that baby. When inspiration strikes, you have to treat your book the same way. You have to say, “I couldn’t possibly go to the movies [or out to dinner or away for the weekend, etc.], I’ve got a book to write!” The same way that you’d never leave a baby home alone, in order to get some guacamole. You’re responsible for getting those ideas on paper, every bit as much as you’re responsible for the well-being of a newborn.
That might sound like hyperbole, but really, I’m not exaggerating at all. Protecting your idea, your novel, really is that important—as important as caring for a newborn. If it’s not, believe me, the world encroaches, and the book never gets written.
The conflict that I’m referring to, though, actually happens after the book is written. After the book has been accepted. After you ink the deal, and all your hard work has paid off…
And you get your editorial letter. Asking you to make global changes.
At this point, that ultra-protective writer inside you—the same protective writer who cared for your concept like a newborn—butts heads with the ultra-critical editor inside you.
And that’s where the magic happens.
I love the global revisions that take place after a book’s acquisition, because inevitably, something really beautiful always comes from that internal conflict: my protective self wanting to stay true to the initial concept, and my critical self seeing my editor’s points and wanting to implement changes. Characters are reinvented, subplots revamped, events placed in a different order. The book becomes three dimensional at this point. It has skin.
So do I ever avoid this confrontation with myself? Never. Once I get that editorial letter, I jump straight into it, heart racing with excitement…
Below: a "greatest-hit" moment, as I unveil the official title of my MG! (The book features a young artist, and nothing reminds me of the art projects of my youth quite like construction paper. All that's missing from the vid are a few pipe cleaners...)
Now, with two books under my belt, I’ve got a few pointers for those about to face blog reviews for the first time:
1. Cut the umbilical cord. Your book is your baby; you raised it up from the tiniest germ of an idea into a complete, finished product. Like a proud parent, every writer does—and should—feel protective of their work, as well. This desire to be protective is often what carries you through rejection and multiple rounds of revision. But once that book hits the printer, you need to separate yourself just enough to grab a little objectivity. You should always love your book, and always feel proud of it. But a bit of distance is important when the book releases.
2. Accept that you’ll get some horrible blog reviews. It’s inevitable. Within the industry—among editors, agents, and reviewers for trade journals—there tends to be some similarity of thought. But once the book hits the public, there is absolutely no consensus. None. Somebody out there’s going to say, “Yuck.”
3. Don’t expect to glean much from negative blog reviews. When a reader doesn’t connect with a book on any level, their comments aren’t particularly constructive. But because you’ve cut the cord, and have gone into reading reviews knowing that you’ll get some negative comments, a one-star review won’t cut your heart out, either. You won’t dwell on it. You’ll be able to move on fairly gracefully to the next review.
4. Let bloggers tell you what you can do better. Even in the midst of a positive review, you’ll still hear, “The book would have been better if…” For instance, a blogger who reviewed—and loved—my first book, A BLUE SO DARK, noted that Aura, the protagonist, used figurative, poetic language throughout…and also swore quite a bit. The blogger wasn’t opposed to the swearing (which was used to help illustrate Aura’s desperation), but asked, If Aura speaks in such a unique, figurative way, shouldn’t she also swear in a unique, figurative way, too, rather than just dropping F-bombs? I found that to be an extremely insightful, thoughtful comment. But I don’t think this comment ever would have permeated if I was still being 100% protective of my work and not yet willing to listen.
I realize that, once a book is released, it’s done. There’s no changing that specific work. But as a writer, I know I’ll be writing more similar kinds of books—I’ll be releasing more YA, more literary work, etc. And as much as I write for acceptance from the industry—editors, trade reviewers, etc.—I primarily write to touch the audience: readers who buy my books. Without readers…well…
Constructive criticism goes into the back of my head, and it does, I would argue, help as I draft my next works…every bit as much as constructive criticism from my agent and editors also help.
Just a few years ago, a writer’s audience discussed books in private—in reading circles, over coffee, in living rooms—and the writer never got a chance to know what his or her audience was saying. I feel incredibly lucky to be writing at a time in which I do get to eavesdrop on the discussions of my books.
Yup, it's true...I just created my own "fan" page at Facebook!
