Getting the Right Consistency

You're all thinking this is another post about how Food Network rules my life, right? Wrong. That's not the kind of consistency I'm talking about.

Every time I have a long enough break from school, I drive to visit my family over 500 miles away. That's a lot of driving, and it's given me a chance to develop very specific road-trip pet peeves. Two of the biggies are related to consistency, but at opposite ends of the spectrum.

The first annoyance is the driver who can't seem to maintain speed on the highway. Not everyone has cruise control, and not everyone who has it wants to use it. That's fine. But when they vary as much as 15 or 20 mph due to nothing other than their own distraction, I get annoyed. Especially since they always seem to go fast when I could pass them, and drag their wagons when I'm stuck behind them indefinitely.

The other problematic drivers are consistent when they shouldn't be. They go one speed—say, 65 mph in a 70 zone. The highway cuts through a small town, so the speed reduces significantly, maybe down to 45 mph. They keep going 65. Too slow when they should go fast, too fast when they should go slow.

Okay, time for a writing parallel—why not?

Driver #1 is like a writer not maintaining consistency within the plot or characters. Yes, characters grow and change, but not out of the blue, and not just because it's convenient for you. Don't make your readers slam on the brakes for no reason.

Driver #2 is like a writer plowing through the ms with the same level of tension throughout. There should be peaks and valleys. Sometimes the reader needs a relative breather. Don't blast through the scenic village at the same speed you cruise through the desert.

Now I'm off to check my ms for both varieties of consistency.

Any tips, tricks, or thoughts related to consistency ... in writing, life, or anywhere else?

My YA Manifesto

I've been thinking about writing a post like this for months, ever since my From the Write Angle blog-mate J. Lea Lopez wrote her Erotica Writer's Manifesto. Finally, it's time.

Every once in a while, I run across someone who thinks writing Young Adult novels is easier than writing for grown-ups. That YA work isn't as complex, doesn't go as deep or dark, or is otherwise somehow "lesser" than its adult counterparts.

I've even heard it once or twice from other YA writers. They write YA because it's not as demanding—they don't think they could cut it as a writer for adults. Or they write YA because it's a stronger area in a struggling market.

I am an unabashed writer of young adult literature. I chose it before I knew anything about publishing markets, before I knew anything about novel-writing in general (other than my opinions as a reader). So, here's my own personal manifesto as a YA writer, the standards I'll hold myself to.

• I will write YA only as long as I love it—reading it, writing it, talking about it.
• I will respect my readers. Young does not mean stupid.
• I will avoid Stupid MC Syndrome at all costs.
• I won't be afraid of vocabulary, but will also keep it authentic.
• I will write female characters with interesting quirks, strengths, and weaknesses.
• I will write male characters who are more than utter hotness. (This does not preclude potential hotness ... but yeah.)
• Combining the above, when characters fall for each other, it will be for reasons other than instinctive attraction or destiny.
• I will generally keep adult characters out of the way, but will not operate under the presumption that all grown-ups are stupid. Teens know that only some of us are stupid.
• I won't be afraid of complexity—complex situations for my characters, complex issues to tackle. Teens' lives are complex. They deal with it.
• I will hope my readers learn something from my novels.
• I will not dictate what that "something" they learn should be. I hope it varies from person to person.
• I will keep in mind that even teens who think they have no personality and aren't special show the truth in their actions. Even the quietest teen is interesting if you really watch.

There should probably be a few more items in this list, so perhaps I'll add to it over time.

What do you think, YA writers? What do you strive for (or strive to avoid) when writing in our chosen category?

Update: A-NaNo-ing I Go

As I mentioned earlier this month on From the Write Angle, I'm currently participating in my very first NaNoWriMo. In my case, it seemed like a nice excuse to try something a little different. I'm writing my first YA contemporary—a story about a hard-of-hearing girl who transfers to a school for the deaf and finds herself caught between the Deaf and hearing worlds. So far, it's been a lot of fun to write, and is stretching different writing muscles than my usual speculative fiction.

Not sure whether it'll be any good. It'll definitely need some editing (I've already made some notes of things I know need fixing). But I'm ahead of the pace so far, so it looks like I'll get at least the 50k words done by the end of the month.

In other news, I made it through the slush pile for the Baker's Dozen Agent Auction over at Miss Snark's First Victim. Log lines and first pages will be posted on December 2nd, and the "auction" will take place December 6th.

I participated in the same event last year. While making it through the slush is a great feeling, my entry didn't receive a single bid. That was pretty rough. Hoping to have better luck this year.

Meanwhile, I'll keep myself busy with this NaNo project. :)

Maturity is Eating Your Vegetables

** This presumes you're the kind of person who doesn't like vegetables. I'm not that kind of person. I rather like most vegetables. But it's a metaphor. Just go with it. **

When you're a little kid (who doesn't like vegetables), your parents know you should eat veggies, but you don't care. You don't care that they're good for you. You don't care about those wonderful vitamins and all they can do for you. You don't care about the nasty things that can happen if you have a deficiency of those vitamins. You only care about how marshmallows and popsicles are better than asparagus and broccoli, just because they are.

Our parents bribe, cajole, and threaten us so we eat our carrots and Brussels sprouts. At some point, though, we accept that we really can't live on Pop Rocks and root beer. We really ought to eat those things that came out of dirt. Once we open our minds to them, we may even find they're not so bad.

This is one of many cool things about teaching teenagers—and no, I'm not really talking about diet and nutrition.

With the ages I teach—and particularly because I've stuck with many students over several years—I get to see a lot of them making transitions to self-aware maturity. The kid who used to blow off everything academic starting to take things more seriously, even looking back and saying he wished he'd buckled down earlier so he could've learned more. The girl who voluntarily comes in during lunch for extra help, even though we both know she'd rather be chatting with friends than torturing herself with math.

I don't get to see the transition for all of them. Some come to me with a very grounded worldview already in place. Some leave my class still thinking life will be a party—they'll put it together later ... or maybe not. (I'm pretty sure some on-paper adults are still patently immature.) But when I do see it, it's very cool.

A current example: If you recall, I teach deaf kids. That means they all have IEPs (Individualized Education Plans, required for any kid with special ed services). This month has been IEP season at my school, so we sit down for a meeting with each kid (and a parent or two) and discuss where they're at, where they want to go, and what they need to do to get there.

Most teenagers are counting down the days to graduation. "Come June of (name-the-year), I'm outta here!" My students are generally no different. Technically, though, they can stay with us until the year they turn twenty-two. Most shudder at the thought.

But then some of them take a realistic look at their goals. Maybe they want to go to college, and they look at their reading and writing levels. Not good enough ... but right in a range where an extra year of high school, really working on it, could make the difference. And they say, "Yeah, I think I should learn more so I'm ready, because college is hard."

That's not just going for the carrots—that's reaching for a big scoop of the whole vegetable medley.

I love that moment.

And I'll keep trying my best to make those veggies tasty.

Coming Soon! - WAE Network

Okay, this looks potentially cool. A social network for writers, agents, and editors. Check it out.

Coming Soon! - WAE Network

Avoiding Authorial Convenience

This is something that's bugged me forever.

When you're reading along and something happens that makes you think, "Oh, Author, you totally wedged that in just because it's convenient to the direction you want the plot to go in. Lame!"

Don't get me wrong. We all do it. We all contrive events to shape the story. I've even discussed the joys of throwing wrenches into the works, just to mess with my characters. The problem is when the reader can tell that's what you're doing.

So, how to avoid? I think one key is consistency. If you get halfway through the rough draft and decide making Character X your MC's brother (plus he knew it all along, but kept it secret) is going to solve all your problems, great. But realize you're going to have to go back through and reshape Character X's early behavior. Not enough to give it completely away if it's a big twist, but enough that looking back, the reader can say, "Oh, yes, I see now!" (Foreshadowing/Hinting vs. Telegraphing ... have I done a post on that yet? No? Hmm, I probably should.)

When things come out of nowhere—even when there's nothing in the text to explicitly preclude them—it's just annoying. As a reader, it makes me feel like I'm being jerked around. I don't like that feeling.

What if the twist or turn comes in a later book in a series, though? What if earlier books are already published, thus establishing "canon"? That's trickier. I guess all you can do is try your best to make character and plot choices that are reasonably organic to what's already set in stone.

This is one of those things that I'm right on top of as a reader (and a hyper-critical one at that), but worry that I don't know how to avoid/spot/fix in my own writing. So if anyone has other thoughts or suggestions on how to prevent your readers from rolling their eyes, please—let's hear them!

Reading Spree: Conquering the TBR Mountain

Last week, on a whim, I made a little poster and put it up in my classroom. It's my TBR (To Be Read) Mountain. There are seventeen books on it, and my stated goal is to finish them all before the end of 2011.

Yeah. Seventeen of them. During the school year. And while working on writing stuff at the same time.

Good thing I'm a fast reader. Double-good thing I have a full week off at Thanksgiving.

I posted it so my students could see me setting reading goals, and they'll be able to watch my progress as I note the date I complete each book on the poster. Hopefully it'll be a fun little side thing to talk about in class ... y'know, other than common denominators, derivatives, and quadratic functions.

While I'm at it, I might as well make my goals even more public, so here's the list and the little bit of progress so far (in no particular order other than the order my brain remembers them since I'm not at school):

1. Monsters of Men by Patrick Ness—finished 9/30
2. Goliath by Scott Westerfeld—finished 10/5
3. The Curse of the Wendigo by Rick Yancey
4. The Isle of Blood by Rick Yancey
5. Everlost by Neal Shusterman
6. Everwild by Neal Shusterman
7. Everfound by Neal Shusterman
8. The Death Cure by James Dashner
9. The Dead-Tossed Waves by Carrie Ryan—finished 10/13
10. The Dark and Hollow Places by Carrie Ryan—finished 10/17
11. Carrier of the Mark by Leigh Fallon
12. Dark Inside by Jeyn Roberts
13. The Slayer Chronicles: First Kill by Heather Brewer
14. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie—finished 10/10
15. Crossed by Ally Condie
16. Ashes by Ilsa J. Bick—finished 10/7
17. Possession by Elana Johnson

And really, I'm just impressed that I remembered all 17 titles.

We'll see how this goes.

Do you guys have any reading goals?

Everything I Need to Know, I Learned from ... Food Network??

I admit it, I've been completely addicted to Food Network lately. (You'd think it'd do damage to my waistline, but I've found when you see all this extravagant, wonderful food that's far better than anything you can get your hands on in real life, you don't actually eat that much.)

In particular, I've watched a lot of the competition shows they have: Cupcake Wars, Iron Chef America, Chopped, Sweet Genius, etc. And I've learned a couple of keys about being classy while competing against your peers.

#1 Don't Compare Really, I already knew this, but I've seen just how ugly it is when it doesn't happen on these shows.

The classiest competitors talk about what they were going for, how they went about it, what inspired them, and so on. They don't even mention what their fellow contestants did. The focus is on what they did, and is it good enough?

Inevitably, someone comes along who makes some remark (either blatant or backhanded) about another chef's dish or execution or style, or how their own is better. Every time, I want to mute the TV. It makes me cringe and grit my teeth.

This applies easily to the writing world. It's harder when I'm in the fight, rather than watching from the other side of the television, but it's still important. The important thing is my writing. How I pull it off, whether it's good enough ... not whether it's better than Writers X, Y, and Z. And if I must have such thoughts, I should keep them to myself. Or at least vent them in absolute privacy.

#2 Don't Talk Back to the Pros Oh, when contestants (on ANY reality show) talk back to the judges, I want to scream at them and run away, all at the same time. You don't have to agree with them. You don't even have to take their advice if you don't want to. But you should respect that there's a reason they're sitting in judgment and you're not. They have expertise, and have earned the right to be publicly opinionated.

Again, obviously applicable to writing. How often have we seen people bashing agents, editors, and publishers? Posting comments to their blogs about how they're outdated dinosaurs and no one needs them anymore? Or those horror stories about writers who send scathing replies to form rejections of their queries?

Yeah, publishing's changing, but really? That's no excuse for dissing people who DO know a thing or two about the industry. Have some respect, and behave professionally. It'll make YOU look better, and who doesn't want that?

So, thank you, Food Network, for reminding me not to be a full-of-myself jerk as I attempt to navigate the world of getting published. I'm sure everyone who has to interact with me thanks you, too.

Math Rant: College Professors

The subject of this particular rant is a few years behind me, but the effects linger. And now, the horrors are being inflicted on my former students, and it's enough to make me want to inflict something of my own—a forceful *headdesk* on the perpetrators.

Through my undergrad and graduate schooling, I encountered a number of college mathematics professors. Here are two facts:

#1 Many of them are absolutely brilliant mathematicians.

#2 Hardly any of them can teach to save their lives.

I even had a few classmates who were likely to join their ranks in the future. Kids who could do multi-variable calculus without breaking a sweat and thought abstract algebra was a great weekend activity. Kids who could not teach it.

Make no mistake. Doing math and teaching math are two entirely different skill sets. Thing is, the teaching skill requires the doing skill, and then some. (Do I get tetchy with the old "Those who can, do; those who can't, teach" line? Don't get me started.)

A former student came by to visit the school the other day and we chatted about how her first semester at a new college is going. Because she has issues with test-taking, she didn't do so hot on her placement exam, which landed her in a math class that's dirt-simple for her. She understands the material, but then the teacher goes and confuses her by insisting she use his methods, which she didn't understand. She tried to ask a question to clarify, and he cut her off.

Okay, this particular girl is very assertive and kind of blunt, so maybe she could have handled the exchange better. I don't know—I wasn't there. Then there's the fact that he tried to hold her interpreter back after class to talk to the interpreter about the student needing an attitude adjustment. (Grr... don't get me started on that, either. That's a rant for another time.)

Bottom line, this student didn't expect the same kind of bend-over-backwards-to-help teaching she got in high school. She just wanted to understand.

If there's one thing I remember about several of my college math classes, it was the clear undercurrent: If you don't understand the magic I'm performing on this blackboard, it's your own fault, because you must be too stupid to grasp it. No one ever said it in words, but you felt it.

Thankfully, they're not all like that. I found a handful who didn't just want to get their teaching hours out of the way so they could get back to their "real" work. The kind you could ask a question, and they didn't just repeat their last two statements. They elaborated on the in-between step, or what justified some conclusion.

If you find college math professors like that, add them to your Christmas card list for life. They're rare, but they're also golden.

Math Rant: Subtraction

This will not be a rant about how even some kids in advanced math classes have to count on their fingers to subtract (or add). I'll save that one for another time. (For the record, with deaf kids "counting on fingers" is fairly equivalent to tapping on the desk and counting in your head.)

No, this rant is about the failure of someone (or several someones) earlier along the line failing to address both types of subtraction.

Two types of subtraction? Whatever are you talking about, Miss Lewis?

Yes, two types.

If you think of beginner's subtraction, what do you think of? Probably the idea of "take away." Johnny has 10 apples, and Jimmy takes 4 of them away. How many does Johnny have left?

Nothing wrong with that. Totally valid interpretation of subtraction. But it's not the only one, dagnabbit!

There is also the HOW FAR perspective. And I don't have the stats to prove it, but my gut says this is the more frequently useful angle in real life.

Take the problem 11 minus 8. Here's what I see over and over in my classroom:

*holds 11 on one hand, then starts counting off on the other*

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3. I counted 8 places before 11, and the answer is 3.

Why? WHY? Even if you must count, here's all it takes:

*hold 11 on one hand, start counting off on the other*

10, 9, 8. I've arrived at 8 and it took 3 steps to do it, so the answer is 3.

To me, this says these kids were taught a procedure for subtracting and memorized it without really going deeper. So I need to dig in and do some remodeling in their heads.

Even better is when they see 11 - 8 on the paper and borrow. So the tens place becomes zero and the ones place becomes ... 11. Fortunately, that's a little more rare.

*sigh*