Friday, October 24, 2014

Stop Aspiring

The world is filled with aspiring authors. Ask anyone at a party and most people have at least one book idea and think they'd make a fabulous writer. And the majority of those people totally deserve to use the term 'aspiring author' when referring to themselves. But here's the thing, the second you write a book, even if no one ever publishes it, you're no longer an aspiring author. You've arrived. You're an author. A bona fide writer. Drop aspiring from your vocabulary, please.

Most people will never finish a novel so already you've done something amazing. Pause and admire that. You stuck with something and poured your heart and soul into it and while it may not be perfect it is yours and you are awesome. Aspiring is a stick we use to beat ourselves saying "I'm not quite there yet." If you write a novel you ARE an author. You ARE a writer. What you are still aspiring to be is a traditionally published author or an agented author or a successful self-pubbed author. Those are important qualifiers.

The writing journey is long and lonely and filled with lots of rejection. Make sure you take time to celebrate everything you can. Rip 'aspiring' out of all your social media bios, blogs, and general lexicon. Be proud of yourself and what you've accomplished. And of course remember that there's always more to do. And you'll always have to be patient. Even for wildly famous and prolific writers the publishing process is a long and slow one. The best thing you can do is keep writing. Write another book. Another short story. Another poem. Keep writing and know that however lonely and long the writing process is, there are thousands sharing your same experience at the exact same moment. Go make friends by joining a local writing group, an online writing website or entering a contest and connecting with other authors. Find some kick-ass critique partners and support each other.

And always, always aspire to more. Just remember you're already an author and you're already amazing.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Unnecessary Appellations

Time for another blog post and this time I'm trotting out the big words. $10 words as my husband calls them, words that are big and fancy and almost never used. Appellation, however, is the perfect word for what I'd like to talk about today. It means the title, tag or nickname we attach to something. In this particular instance, I'd like to talk about the phrase 'a novel.'

Walking through a book store, checking out book covers and lightly running my fingers over the spines of favorites I've already read, I can pick out at least a dozen books that have "a novel" tacked onto the title. KICK-ASS WARRIOR NINJAS - A NOVEL. TEN MINUTES TO PURGATORY - A NOVEL. WORDY & PRETENTIOUS - A NOVEL. Yes, I'm making all of those up but there are tons of real world examples.

Why do authors and publishers feel the need to tack 'a novel' onto their book titles? I'm not just questioning publishers here, because self-published authors seem to do this as well. Most book sellers, whether dedicated brick and mortar stores, online only or the airport newsstand, shelve books according to type. Non-fiction and fiction books rarely share self space. The same is true in libraries and schools. Thus it's hard to imagine that 'a novel' needs to appear on a book cover so the reader doesn't assume they're picking up a non-fiction book. I think there are some cases where 'a novel' is warranted, for instance if the title or cover could be misinterpreted as non-fiction or memoir. However, the majority of times its use seems utterly unnecessary.

The trend toward using 'a novel' also seems especially skewed toward literary fiction books as opposed to genre fiction. Though there are cases of the phrase appearing in all fiction areas. Traditionally, when novels first began appearing, the phrase served a very necessary purpose because the majority of published works were not novels. That's not the case today, however.

In the present context, in the here and now, in publishing today, why do so many books have 'a novel' added to their covers? Do the words grant an extra degree of literary merit to a book? Does the phrase increase sales? Does it make Oprah more likely to pick a book for her book club? Do we really think the general reading populace is wandering about looking at book titles and saying things like "Thank God, they put 'a novel' on that cover, I thought it was a cook book." Or is this just a left ever bit of minutiae from centuries ago?

Is there a good reason for 'a novel' to appear on any cover today? In a few cases yes. In most, probably not. I want to nod my head and say, "yes, I know" each time I see the phrase. So if you're an industry professional in the know or just a smarty pants who's figured this all out and would like to clue me in, please do so. Inquiring minds want to know.

Thanks for reading. This has been "Unnecessary Appelations - A Blog Post."

Monday, October 6, 2014

Book Review

Rebel Belle by Rachel Hawkins

4 stars out of 5

Harper Price has the perfect life: she's homecoming queen, class president, top of the social scene and standing at the head of the line for cotillion. All of that goes to hell, however, when she encounters a dying man in the bathroom on homecoming night. The fatally wounded janitor grabs Harper and kisses her passing on his role as a Paladin - a supernatural and ancient warrior/protector. Mr. Janitor, however, dies without telling Harper who she's supposed to protect. That's okay though because two seconds later her history teacher bursts into the bathroom and tries to turn Harper into a shish-kabob. Harper fights back with her new-found fighting skills and kills the evil history teacher with her pointy high heel. And so begins Harper's mad, crazy, hilarious and oddly appealing story. This book is like Legally Blonde meets Buffy, The Vampire Slayer with a dose of Gone With the Wind thrown in.

Southern Belles kicking ass doesn't get much better as a plot summary, but it fits. I was giggling so many times throughout this book. It's not a heavy, weighty read. But it's irresistible none-the-less, a pleasant cotton-candy read to while away a rainy afternoon and make you smile. Rachel Hawkins writes engaging, memorable characters and has a turn of phrase that makes me envious as a writer.

There is, of course, the inevitable love triangle. Can a YA book that involves any amount of romance be published today WITHOUT a love triangle? Sometimes it doesn't seem like it. The love triangle was my least favorite part of the novel alas. Ryan, Harper's long-time boyfriend, is the school golden boy and Mr. Perfect. On the other side of the ring we've got David Stark - editor of the school newspaper, muckraker, general social misfit and Harper's arch nemesis since the were in diapers. At least David isn't your typical bad-boy - he falls into the same over-achiever mold as Harper. It's nice having two protagonists that are total type-A's and obsessed with school. David is the boy Harper has to protect as a Paladin, whether she wants to or not. And because of that and having to be around him so much, she suddenly discovers he's fascinating and she has feelings for him. Poor Ryan, he gets tossed aside like a used tissue.

The shining star in this book is Harper and her narration. They really make the book despite the love/hate and love triangle tropes. The pace if the novel is fast and furious with the occasional slow-down for a sweet little aside. So many lush details and funny bits and even though I want to smack Harper and David's heads together far too frequently, I still really enjoyed the book overall and will read the sequel. This is the first in a series.

Rebel Belle will appeal to fans of Beauty Queens by Libba Bray and Unspoken by Sarah Rees Brennan.

Favorite line: "Bruce Wayne's parents get killed and he goes to Tibet or whatever, and Superman is an alien, and Spiderman had that radioactive spider. Me? I kissed a janitor in the school bathroom."

Find it on Goodreads >>

Wednesday, October 1, 2014


Another quick flash fiction story for you.

****************************

Fat Camp Confidential

“This is stupid.”

Maria shifted on the faux leather seat, skin sticking to the uncomfortable material, and the seat made a short, high farting noise. She grimaced. The booth was twice the size of a janitor’s closet and had some of the same nauseating smells. Instead of a plush red couch, like the Big Brother TV show the booth was modeled after, the camp had found an old diner seat.

She stared balefully at the camera and refused to say anything else.

After another stifling minute, a timer shrilled and Maria fart slid her way off the diner booth and shoved the door open. She had to turn sideways to squeeze through. It was like the booth was feeling up her fat rolls every time she had to enter and exit.

Grace waited ten feet away, three steps past the yellow line painted on the concrete floor. The line was supposed to ensure the confession booth was private. The camera sorta wrecked that illusion.

Maria sighed and adjusted the too tight waist on her shorts. They were fat camp issue, with Camp Ninitaki stamped across the ass. “You’re up, Grace.”

Grace sashayed across the concrete, shaking her hips and fluffing her shoulder-length mop of hair. Maria laughed and found a wall to prop up. Sweat trickled under the straps of her bra, making her skin itchy. It was the middle of summer in South Texas. Maybe Ninitaki’s founders had figured the heat alone could sweat a few pounds off the camp kids, even if exercise and rabbit food didn’t.

On the correct side of the yellow line, a row of girls stood waiting for their turn in the confession booth. They’d separated out into the camp’s natural pecking order - chubby girls at the front, hefty weight class in the middle and the OMG-how-do-you-walk division pulling up the rear. Even in fat camp there were popular girls, cliques and a social hierarchy based mostly on weight.

Grace kicked the booth door open three minutes later, grinning. She joined Maria and they left the rec hall, ignoring the other girls.

“So what’d you confess?” Maria asked.

“I dreamed I was twinkie and couldn’t stop pulling out my cream stuffing. It was so good. But then I was just an empty sponge cake mess and sort of fell apart. Very intense.”

“You didn’t!” Maria laughed.

“Dream it? Of course not. But Doc Sherman will bust a gasket trying to psychoanalyze that one.” Grace rolled her eyes. “How about you?”

“My vow of silence continues.”

“Wrong approach. That just makes the counselors more determined to find out all those dirty little secrets that make you over-eat.”

Maria snorted. “I’m fat because my family has the metabolism of a walrus clan and french fries are my kryptonite.”

Grace nodded. “Maybe. But Doc Sherman is never gonna buy that. We’re here to find the source of our pain and learn new healthy habits. Don’t you listen during morning sessions?”

“I listen. I just don’t actually pay attention. I play Fat Camp Bingo, instead. I’ve got a point system going on different words Doc Sherman says. I tally them up and compare the score between days.”

“Like what?”

“A hundred for ‘obese,’ two hundred for ‘denial,’ two-fifty for ‘lifestyle.’ Shit like that. Yesterday he cracked the thousand mark.”

“Huh, who knew I could have been enjoying our morning lectures.”

When they reached the cabin, Grace peered around the door before walking inside. “All clear. Shauna and Lacey must be at the cafeteria already.”

Grace kicked Shuana’s bunk as she passed it.

Maria just averted her eyes.

“Queen Shauna better not pull any crap today,” Grace muttered, flinging herself onto her bottom bunk. The bed springs groaned.

“Bet she’s lost another two pounds.” Maria perched on the edge of her own bunk and frowned down at the dusty floor.

“Whatever. I’m happy with my body. Size twelve is not the end of the world and there’s a whole lot of sexy packed in here. If that bitch wants to join the Barbie Brigade, let her, it’s nothing to us.”

“Except she’s the camp wonder.”

Grace rolled over and met Maria’s eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with us. Big is beautiful.”

They fell silent as a sound came from the bathroom, someone throwing up and then the toilet flushing. Shauna walked into the room a moment later and froze, staring at them.

“What are you doing?” Shauna demanded, hands on her hips. Her black hair was lank but her face looked thinner and her camp shorts sagged around her hips. Ninitaki’s biggest success story in the flesh.

“Taking a moment to relax before they have us running obstacle courses all day.” Grace glared at Shauna.

Shauna narrowed her eyes. “If you heard anything keep it to yourself. Then again, maybe you should take notes. Unless you want to be fat asses forever.” She stomped out of the cabin.

Grace sighed. “Guess that explains her miracle weight loss.”

“She’s lost a lot of weight,” Maria said. “She’s pretty and popular. Maybe she’s on to something.”

Grace sat up quickly and scowled at Maria. “Barfing your food up after every meal is disgusting and stupid. You’re beautiful just the way you are.”

“My parents don’t think so or they wouldn’t have sent me here. The counselors don’t think so. The kids who oink at me in the halls at school don’t either.”

“They’re all idiots. There’s nothing wrong with us! Keep saying it, Maria.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t look like a baby whale shoved into gym shorts.”

“Neither do you!”

“Would it be so bad to be skinny? To fit in?”

“Yeah, if that’s how you have to do it. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” Grace grabbed Maria’s hand and squeezed.

When Maria was quiet too long, Grace squeezed harder.

“Fine, I promise.”

Grace smiled and gave her a quick hug. “Good. Let’s get some breakfast.”

Maria followed, but glanced back at the bathroom. You learn all sorts of things at fat camp.