Conventions: Think Outside Your Genre

Leaguers, meet Amie Kaufman, an Australian-based writer coming out next year with her YA science fiction debut titled THESE BROKEN STARS.

I’ve just come home from the inaugural GenreCon, an Australian convention for “anyone who gets their own section in the bookstore”. I met authors of romance, mystery, science fiction, fantasy, crime, horror, thrillers and more. It changed the way I see conferences and conventions.

Writers, editors, agents and the occasional reader (without whom we are nothing!) attended discussion panels at GenreCon on everything from “writing adult themes” (that one ran late at night, after drinks!), to research, career tips, world building and so much more. Multi-award winning authors taught workshops on everything from writing effective fight scenes to author platform. Teams lined up for a hilarious Plotters vs Pantsers debate. Sarah Wendell from Smart Bitches, Trashy Books gave us some live cover snark and introduced us to the were-platypus. International guest of honor, author Joe Abercrombie, admitted he’s just like the rest of us—he would totally sleep with Mr. Darcy to get Pemberley.

While the Aussies were having a fantastic time at GenreCon, half my Twitter feed was in Toronto at the World Fantasy Convention. All year I watch friends head off to WorldCon (the world science fiction convention) or the RWA Conference, or recently (to my intense envy!) LeakyCon – that’s right, Harry Potter!

There are lots of reasons to go to these conferences and conventions. You can improve your craft, meet your heroes, network like crazy to find anything from a critique partner to an agent, hear all the news that’s too hot to print, and remind yourself that although writing can feel like a solo sport, it’s anything but. I go for all those reasons.

But at GenreCon, I found something a little different. I took a workshop with award-winning historical romance author Anna Campbell - on how to research historical fiction. Incredibly useful for the steampunk book I’m tinkering with, and the romance authors in the room came at the question of setting the scene from a different angle to my science fiction brain. I listened to Aussie horror author Martin Livings talk about the visceral thrill of a horrifying moment, and what draws a reader to pursue it. I look for these moments in my work, but Martin has more experience than I ever will in this genre, and he knows his craft. I listened to Sarah Wendell talk passionately (and hilariously) about why romance challenges those who criticize it, and the strength of plots that empower women—a lesson that can go far beyond the romance world. I attended a world building panel featuring a fantasy author, a crime writer and a regency romance author, and heard three distinct points of view. I chaired a panel on researching your world, and heard from a historical author, a science fiction author and a medical/crime author—again, they all brought wonderfully different perspectives to the same question. They challenged the way I thought.

It was fantastic and different to mix it up with authors of crime, romance and horror, none of which are familiar to me as a reader or an author. I saw ideas through a new lens, found new plans of attack for old problems, and drew a new kind of energy from the discussion.

You know what was the same, though? The fact that no matter what genre you’re talking about, the genre community rocks. Everyone I met was warm, inclusive and welcoming, whether they were talking to a guest of honor, or an aspiring writer.

In 2013, I challenge you to look outside the box for conferences and conventions in your area—try something that’s not of your genre, and see what you learn! I guarantee you’ll find a new angle on your work.

Amie is the co-author of THESE BROKEN STARS, a YA sci-fi novel coming in 2013 from Disney-Hyperion. You can find Amie at her blog, on Twitter or on Facebook. Amie lives in Melbourne, Australia, with her husband and rescue dog, and this week she's reading her first ever regency romance.

http://twitter.com/amiekaufman
http://www.facebook.com/AmieKaufmanAuthor
http://amiekaufman.com/

Renewal

A few weeks ago, in the midst of this exhausting book tour for ASHEN WINTER, I saw this tree:

It's an old, hollowed out sycamore tree growing beside a stream in Fortville, Indiana. From the top of that seemingly dead trunk sprouts a vibrant young sycamore about six inches in diameter. I took a picture because the image plucked a chord within me.

Sometimes students ask why I became a writer. And I tell them it was the only job left after I got fired from every other profession I tried. I answer that way because it's funny, and I like to be extremely candid in my interactions with students--they can smell fakers from all the way down the hall.

But the truth is that I fired myself; I quit most of the jobs I held before I was a writer. I did a bit of everything: janitor, marketing executive, wine salesman, and remodeling company owner among others. In each job, I felt like that old sycamore tree, getting progressively more hollow as small daily iniquities rotted me and office politics gnawed my core.

Now, I feel more like that new tree, growing fast and proud from a base of failure. In another sense, though, all those abandoned careers were anything but a failure. Everything I tried informs my writing today. The new tree could not exist without the roots the old one put down.

Storms, Impending Apocalypsies, and Preparations

Okay, so Sandy hit the East Coast last week, and I couldn't tear myself from the news footage. It felt like a different world, as I turned off the TV, went outside to the warmest end of October we've had in a long time (I didn't even wear a jacket), got in my car, and drove to work.

My life was completely and utterly different from what was happening just a thousand or so miles away.

I watched the devastation of a Staten Island woman whose house was literally picked up and moved, and she was finding pictures of her mother in a field. I listened as people ranted about needing help, and not getting it. Lots of pictures here, that I looked through, just sort of dumbstruck (scroll down to slide show).

I wanted to help them. Send them the food and water I have stored in my garage, donate the advance I just got for my third book. Whatever they needed. I just couldn't imagine living through that, and then having to pick up the pieces afterward.

And it got me thinking. I live in Utah, right along a major fault line. We're told here to be prepared for an earthquake at any time. We actually have emergency preparedness fairs, and drills, and all of the above.

I have enough food and water stored for me and my family for three months. Thanks to Mike's ASHFALL, I have bottles of ibuprofen and vitamin C. I have toiletries stored. I have a small stove, and the fuel to use it.

I know how to turn off the water and gas to my house, and I feel like I could evacuate with my 72-hour kit if I needed to.

But what if I didn't have a home to come back to? What if my carefully laid-up storage was swallowed by the earth, along with the rest of my belongings?

I find this equally frightening and fascinating to think about, because it's the root of dystopian fiction. A cataclysmic event happened, and society marched on. Just like the people out East, who will pick up the pieces, weld them back together, and move on.

So I know that even if the apocalypse happens this December (not that far away!), life will continue on. Whether we are prepared or not, time marches forward, and those who are alive will do whatever they can to survive.

Helping out before the locusts arrive!

As I write this a Nor’easter (named Athena by the Weather Channel) is dumping “waffles” (at least according to Jim Cantore) of snow on the Northeast—just a week after a hurricane named Sandy wreaked havoc there. My heart goes out to those who still don’t have power—or intact homes—in that area. You all have seen the pictures (or lived through it!): blocks of Queens burnt to the ground, boats on Staten Island in people’s houses, the Atlantic City Boardwalk in tatters, and homes on the Jersey shore destroyed. Now imagine it all covered in snow. As New Jersey Gov Chris Christie so eloquently put it: "I am waiting for the locusts and pestilence next."

In fact, excuse me while I digress a moment, the whole scene does remind me of a dystopian climate change novel—trilogy actually. As soon as I heard about the impending winter storm , I thought of Kim Stanley Robinson’s trilogy: Forty Signs of Rain, Fifty Degrees Below, and Sixty Days and Counting. In them, in the very near future, a major east coast city gets hit by a tropical storm, practically drowning the infrastructure, and then it gets covered with a near arctic winter. Sound familiar? Only, in the books, the city is Washington DC, and winter at least had the good grace to wait a few months.

Anyway. I’m guessing the denizens of the Northeast are going to be needing even more help to recover from Sandy + Athena and any locusts or pestilence that follow. You’re probably familiar with the major relief efforts, such as the Red Cross, etc. The YA community, as usual, also has at least one really good fundraiser ongoing. Check out YA Highway’s KidLit Cares auction for Sandy relief.

Also, if you’re interested in helping rebuild libraries in the New Jersey and New York area, check the ALA’s Helping United States Libraries After Disasters.

Please feel free to list any other publishing, library, or school-related fundraisers below in the comments.

Stay warm!

Extraordinary News!

Lots of fun and exciting news for the League this month!

Lissa's currently in sunny La Jolla (ack, I'm so jealous of her!) teaching at the La Jolla Writer's Conference. Give us a shout-out if you see her there!

And tell her thanks--she's also offering up a query crit for an auction to benefit Red Cross for the victims of Hurricane Sandy (and if you snag representation, she's also offering a follow-up!). More information on this tax-deductible auction--including links to lots of other auctions with crits from agents and more authors--can be found here.

STARTERS is taking over the world on country at a time and sold in Romania.

In the Netherlands, STARTERS has been nominated at Crimezone for Best YA Thriller: Shortlist Buitenland (non-Netherlands http://www.crimezone.nl/yaverkiezing/ For voting instructions in English, please seewww.lissaprice.com.

Susanne has lots of cover news. First, she debuted the cover of her upcoming YA Thriller, IMPOSTER, which will be out July 11, 2013. Go here to read a full description.

And Susanne has a cover for the sequel to her debut, THE LIFE BEYOND! Click her for more details and a full spread of the dust jacket.

Lenore has exciting news for LEVEL 2--an excerpt of the US audiobook is available here!

And finally, I have a little news myself. I'm hosting a big contest right now in celebration of YA books--and the prize is fifty signed YA books! It's super easy to enter--full details are here :)

Moffat's Missed Opportunity

My husband and I are big Doctor Who fans. Recently, we were talking about one of my favorite recent episodes--Asylum of the Daleks, where Oswin is introduced--and the husband came up with a great theory.

(Spoilers ahead if you've not seen that episode)

See, in Asylum of the Daleks, Oswin is trapped in a Dalek prison. The Doctor tries to save her--but when he finally reaches her, he discovers that the Daleks have turned her into one of them. Through intense medical procedures, they've put her mind inside Dalek armor. She's no longer human. She's Dalek. But she's somehow been able to maintain her human soul and mind. It's with great sadness that the Doctor, at the end of the episode, has to leave Oswin behind as he destroys the whole planet.

Now, this episode was great. It had a twist ending and a tear-jerker surprise.

But Moffat missed an opportunity.

See, Oswin was human--on the inside. It was only her outside that was changed to a Dalek, the Doctor's long-time enemy. My husband came up with a great plot idea. What if the Doctor saved Oswin? What if he took her with him? He could make a hologram that would show her real body (to the audience and to the other characters), but there could come a time (say when she had to climb steps) that the hologram would fade, and he'd flinch to see her real body. He could be torn between loving her for who she is, and hating her for what's become of her. The plot could even revolve around the day Oswin loses her humanity and fails in the fight against the part of her that's being consumed by Daleks.

In talking with my husband, we both realized immediately how awesome such a story line would be. The Doctor's hated the Daleks for so long that having him actually fall in love (not even romantically, but as a friend) with one would be brilliant. It's the opposite of what anyone would expect for that character.

But Moffat missed that opportunity. He blew up the planet instead.

I'm sure many of you have seen the Pixar graphic of 22 Tips for Writers. Rule 12 is:

Discount the first thing that comes to mind. And the second, third, fourth, and fifth--get the obvious out of the way. Surprise yourself.

This is what Moffat should have done. The obvious thing is When the Doctor sees a Dalek, he hates it and kills it. That's classic. That's old. It's been done.

But how awesome would it have been to have totally turned that on its head? To have, instead, done When the Doctor sees a Dalek, he can't hate it. He can't kill it. He grows to love it.

That? That would have been brilliant.

Living in Dystopia

Please welcome Eugene Myers as our guest blogger today! His debut, FAIR COIN, came out in March of this year, and the sequel, Quantum Coin, just came out this month.

I attended what was considered to be a “rough” high school, though it probably wasn’t any more dangerous than any of the other public schools in Yonkers. We had fewer knifings than some of the others, anyway. But the acts of violence got bad enough in my senior year that the school district could no longer ignore them, so they decided on “random” metal detector sweeps of classrooms to deter students from bringing weapons to school. One of the classes they selected was my AP American History class, which was basically filled with the top 30 ranking students; strangely enough, all the metal detector wands picked up were the 3.5” floppy discs most of us carried around to store their work, which were incidentally erased by the sweep.

That year, we had a new principal, who had either come from a notoriously troubled school, or had previously been a prison warden, depending on whom you asked. He implemented stricter rules as soon as he arrived, including mandatory student IDs. But many of the changes that were supposed to protect students only made our lives harder while enabling the administration to keep better tabs on us. Moreover, it seemed like a unilateral punishment of everyone for the actions of a few—making us all feel like criminals. The metal detector incident in particular gave me the impression that the school didn’t truly want to find any weapons, because that would require them to deal with the situation and the media attention that came with it.

It was unsettling, a warning sign of more changes to come, but despite some efforts to improve conditions through subversive articles in our independent (ie. rogue) high school newspaper, me and my friends let it go. We were going to escape soon, so it wasn’t worth fighting the system too much. And indeed, soon after graduation, metal detectors were installed at all the entrances, and the school more closely resembled a totalitarian police state.

I bring this up, even though it dates me and makes me feel old—all this went down circa 1995—to illustrate my theory that one of the reasons why dystopian YA is so popular is because many kids live in dystopias today. I’m probably not the first to draw this comparison; the closest I can find online right now are essays about high school in Buffy the Vampire Slayer being a literal hell, with graduation equating the Apocalypse.

But if this idea is new to you, think about it: In most cases, teens are forced (by their parents and city governments) to go to school every weekday, where they have no power and little independence. Their schedules are strictly regimented and school administrations make the rules, some of them entirely arbitrary, enforcing them by meting out punishments like detention, suspension, expulsion, black marks on school records, revoked privileges, and other “disciplinary actions.” Lately schools have even been implementing camera surveillance, RFID tracking of students’ whereabouts, and even monitoring of students’ activities through their laptops and tablets. Kids can be suspended just for drawing on their desks, and then there’s the rampant peer bullying that so often goes unchecked by the powers that be. For some kids, life at home may not be much better. No wonder that adults are so often regarded with distrust in fiction and in life.

Granted, this comparison paints a bleak picture of our adolescent years, and represents an oversimplification of the broad dystopian genre, but my point is that even kids at the best schools and the happiest homes can relate to many of the problems dystopian protagonists face—and share the same hopes and fears. There’s the anticipation of escape at the end of it all, that if you play by the rules you can lead a better life one day, as well as the fantasy of defying the rules and improving everyone’s lot. You hang on until graduation or until you’re eighteen, thinking that it will all get better once you’re out of your school, your parents’ house, your hometown, and on your own.

Though my YA books, Fair Coin and Quantum Coin, are science fiction, they are not dystopian. But the protagonists do visit some dystopian parallel universes, including an alternate contemporary world where the United States is at war with the U.S.S.R., China, and much of Europe. The biggest problems for teens living in this dark, but eerily familiar version of the U.S. are a mandatory curfew and the fact that all of them will be drafted into military service as soon as they graduate high school—which, by the way, is in session on Saturdays. In the midst of a war, the protagonists from our universe are most shocked to find that high school lasts all summer long. They don’t even get a senior prom. It’s more shocking still that the teens who occupy that universe simply accept all this as the norm; it’s the only life they know, and what choices do they have, anyway?

We all experience our own private dystopias every day, whether it’s a restrictive school, an oppressive work environment, or a bad relationship. By reading dystopian and young adult fiction, we can feel less alone and more hopeful; these stories offer not only a temporary escape from our problems, but they can help inspire and empower us to seek a permanent escape from the darkness in our lives.

What dystopian elements do you see around you?

E.C. Myers was assembled in the U.S. from Korean and German parts and raised by a single mother and a public library in Yonkers, New York. He has published short fiction in a variety of print and online magazines and anthologies, and his young adult novels, Fair Coin and Quantum Coin, are available now from Pyr Books. He currently lives with his wife and a doofy cat in Philadelphia and shares way too much information about his personal life at ecmyers.net and on Twitter @ecmyers.