The Other Side

I feel like the next time I attend a conference or similar, I should put some sort of warning on my table. Something like, 'Painfully Awkward' or 'May Hug Without Warning.' I definitely hugged some readers and friends, new and old, at this year's Ohioana Book Festival. Thank you for humoring me, strangers.

But, I got to hang and chat with some incredible writers and book enthusiasts, and extol on the virtues of unapologetically messy first drafts while speaking on a panel with some fine fantasy authors. The questions were so smart and I feel like every time I have the chance to participate in something like this, I learn more about the craft of writing, and from just about everybody in the room.

It's strange, to sit on the other side of the table. I still remember attending a book festival and approaching from the aisle, eager to talk about books and writing and dreaming big about the publishing industry. I still do this every time I meet an author, honestly. And whether it's because I'll always be a reader first or because I've got a severe case of impostor syndrome or I'm just irrepressibly awkward, I don't know.

But once, many years ago when I came up to her after hearing her on a panel at Books by the Banks, Laura Bickle asked me about what I was writing and gave me her email address, later introduced me to a bunch of her friends writing in Columbus. And just a few weeks ago, we shared a table and gushed about books and it was the best. I still feel like the same person, still aspiring, always.

There was a young woman who stopped by our table at one point, asking about drafts and writing, and I answered her questions as best as I could. She came back a few minutes later and told me about what she's working on and said people have told her it's been done; she asked me, did I think she should keep writing it?

I said heck yes she should.

I told her, you have to write the story that you want to write. Everything's been done before, but it hasn't been done by you.

I wish now that I'd hugged her, too.

Audiobooks to Listen and Love

Audiobooks are the best and easiest way to sneak reading into a busy life - whether you're commuting or, like me, loading the dishwasher for the ten-thousandth time in a week, a good audiobook allows for a totally different sort of immersive reading experience. I've also found audiobooks allows me to revisit old favorites in a new way, as a good narrator breathes new life into an already beloved tale. Some of my favorite audiobooks are books I've read in print several times. These are among my favorites, and ones I unashamedly listen to at least once a year.

Garth Nix's original Abhorsen trilogy, comprised of Sabriel, Lirael, and Abhorsen, are phenomenal reads - and they're narrated by Tim Curry. Is there really any higher recommendation? I don't think so. But if you need one, he nails the voice of a cat who isn't quite a cat and teenage necromancers so exceedingly well, I think he must be some sort of mystical being himself.

When I first read Ernest Cline's Ready Player One, I enjoyed it despite the narrator's self-congratulatory nerd behavior. Because I know dudes like Wade Watts - they're my friends and I more than tolerate them because they're actually pretty lovable despite their tendencies to gloat about canon and name drop like crazy. It wasn't until I listened to Wil Wheaton read the book, however, that I really fell in love. He softens the edges of a sometimes irritating character and really brings a new depth and heart to an already charming book.

On a friend's recommendation, I downloaded Terrier, the first in Tamora Pierce's Provost's Dog trilogy. I adore Pierce, though she is one of the authors I know is writing for a far younger and less jaded audience than I belong to. Having this series in audiobook form - I went on to download Bloodhound and Mastiff - was just perfect. I could take my time and really dwell in Beka Cooper's world without getting hung up on language or reflecting on how long ago my own teenage years were. Bonus, I could listen with my girls in the car.

Max Brooks' World War Z is one of my absolute favorite books - basically zombies plus PBS, two of my favorite media things. The audiobook is spectacular in just the same way, with an all-star cast narrating what's basically a historical account of a zombie war that hasn't happened. Yet?

So, including The Ghost Bride feels like a bit of a cheat, because I re-read this in print once a year, too, but based on the number of times I've also listened to it, I couldn't leave it off this list. Yangsze Choo, the author, narrates the book herself, which I just love. It feels a little like getting to spend time with her as well as spending time with her strange and lovely world.

Reading vs. Writing

Is there a book you've read you wished you'd written? This is a harder question for me than I initially imagined that it might be. If I'd written some of the books I ardently admire, I'd have been robbed of the opportunity to enjoy reading them. At the same time, some stories are so enchanting, some writing so smart and wicked, that I can't help but wish I'd had the idea and the skills, too. And of course, there are some tales - I find this particularly true of retellings - where I am so deeply disappointed in how a legendary concept is so poorly imagined.

In the end, I'm not sure there's any book I've loved that I'd really rather have written than read, though there are a few stories so skillfully told that they're more than worth mentioning.

The Native Star

M.K. Hobson's The Native Star is an underrated gem and one of the few steampunk/weird west tales that doesn't get so involved with itself that the story and the characters are lost. Perhaps it is that I am most drawn to the characters is what makes this one stand out to me - the elements of the world embellish their lives, rather than the other way around. I'm all for a well-built world, but Hobson manages to make her alternate history feel as vibrant as the real one without overshadowing some truly spectacular characters - and a unique magic system - in Emily and Stanton.

Naomi Novik's Uprooted is definitely in my top five favorite retellings-ish, ever. Novik does exactly what I aspire to do when approaching writing any kind of folk or fairy tale, making it feel familiar and strange in the same instant, surprising in the ways that it conforms to what we know as much as it breaks away into new and delicious territory. I plan to fangirl Novik so hard at Dragon Con this year, you have no idea.

Leigh Bardugo manages to do something with Six of Crows that I honestly think I may never be able to do as a writer: invest readers deeply into the lives of multiple, distinct, and distinctly unheroic protagonists. I don't even generally enjoy reading books where the perspective changes, but with this one and the equally unputdownable sequel, Crooked Kingdom, I wouldn't have had the reading any other way. While I felt connected to certain characters more than others, I still felt affinity for each, and readily shifted between their voices and aims.

I know that I am still writing the sorts of books that I liked to read, for the ideal readers who enjoy the same weird and wonderful things that I do, but truly: I think I'd rather focus on getting better and read more from authors I enjoy than co-opt their voices and ideas.

Five Favorite Reads of 2017

While 2017 was perhaps my least productive writing year ever - even the poetry I scribbled in the sixth grade amounted to more worthy words than I managed within the last twelve months - I did read some incredible books. And I am trying to take it easy on myself, especially after seeing one of the excellent Lucy Knisley's daily comics yesterday.

Part three of my Hourly Comic Day. #HourlyComicDay #HourlyComicDay2018

A post shared by Lucy Knisley (@lucyknisley) on

I think for creators the world over, especially here at home and especially, especially those of us whose work is not inherently social or political, it's an incredibly challenging time to make things. Mostly it feels damned selfish, when energies could be better spent collaborating with, advocating for and elevating the voices and struggles of those who are being ruthlessly targeted in our current political climate. So I've been endeavoring to be a better human and friend, and escaping at night not as often into worlds of my own creation, but into those of others.

I've got higher hopes for 2018. Or so I am telling myself.

The Girls at the Kingfisher Club by Genevieve Valentine combined two of my favorite things: a 1920s aesthetic and a fairy tale retelling - one of my favorites, The Twelve Dancing Princesses. The freedom the princesses yearned for in the original tale is such a delightful fit for the expanding social boundaries of the Jazz Age, I'm surprised this hasn't been attempted before. But, thrilled that someone as skilled as Valentine did it.

I read a lot of Shannon Hale this year but Book of a Thousand Days was by far my favorite. Another fairy tale retelling, and such a unique lens. Dashti was tough and brilliant and I absolutely loved her as a narrator - the journal format doesn't work for many books, but like Tamora Pierce's Beka Cooper: A Tortall Legend series, it works so well here. This is definitely a book I can't wait to share with my girls when they are a little bit older.

Side note, I've become obsessed with the move adaption of Austenland. I've watched it three times since finishing the book and it's become my go-to guilty pleasure film.

I did a lot of traveling in 2017 which meant a lot of devouring comics on airplanes. Rat Queens absolutely stole my heart, and probably nicked bits of my soul and charged some suspicious things to my credit card, too. I'm so cool with it. While the first few volumes are strongest, in my opinion, I'd recommend the whole series to anyone who enjoys rowdy ladies.

There is so much to be enchanted by in The Bear and the Nightingale that I am not even sure where to begin - the characters are real and flawed and fascinating, the writing is absolutely lovely and the world Arden has crafted is both haunting and beautiful. I wanted all of the creepiness and the mystery and the feelings. A book I'd wish I'd written if it weren't for the joy of having read it.

I didn't actively avoid reading Rainbow Rowell but somehow I'd never managed to read her work until I picked up a copy of Landline at a library used book sale - and my goodness, did I read this at the absolute perfect time. As a many-years-married creative-type in my thirties, this book was so sweet and stirring and affirming. I loved Georgie. I loved Neal. I know Georgie and Neal. I cried and cried reading this book and told my husband all about it. I feel like if i weren't quite who I am, right now, it might not have resonated as much for me. But I am and it so did.

What about you? What were your favorite reads last year?

What Teenagers Write About is Weird

Do you remember the first thing you ever wrote? When I was in the fifth grade, heavily influenced by multiple readings of The Secret Garden and The Little Princess and my own deep desire for Kirsten, I wrote a short story for class about a Victorian-esque pauper girl who coveted a doll in a window at Christmastime. Naturally, that porcelain beauty was bound to sustain her more than bread or soup or central heat, so a kindly young mother who had lost her own daughter to illness made everyone's dreams come true by adopting the child and buying her the damn doll. Appealing narrative for an 11-year-old with no disposable income, right?

I think of this story now and then, and remember that my fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Cole, told my parents I was writing at a college-level. I thought that was a bit of a joke until I taught college, and then I suspected for a hot minute it was an insult, but still. She was an incredibly supportive teacher and the first in a long line of teachers who indulged my love of writing fiction.

In the seventh grade, I wrote what I realize now was basically erotic friend fiction - though with far fewer butts and a whole lot more dystopian wasteland. This was the first long-form piece I ever wrote, beginning with a natural disaster that conveniently swept all of the adults out of the picture and allowed me to populate a post-parent fantasy land with my peers. We foraged for food, crafted weapons, built shelters Island of the Blue Dolphins-style, and even relocated from Ohio to the beach, where I was able to introduce new characters from my class who had been presumed dead. Why? Because it took me months to write this thing and I was crushing on somebody else by then and needed a reason to write them into the story.

Teenagers, man.

The best/worst part is honestly that I shared this, chapter by painstaking chapter, with my English teacher. She was so nice about it that I wonder now if she even read it, or if she just felt sorry for the girl who repeatedly had her name slandered on the chalkboard by some of the same boys she was writing about. If I could go back in time, I'd make them eat those pages. Or just kick them repeatedly in the shins.

But it was easier at thirteen to retreat into a world whose boundaries I could write and rewrite, whose conflicts were of my own devising and whose resolutions happily followed a linear narrative. There is still an element of joy in controlling a world when I'm writing - or at the very least, trusting that when I'm not in control I'll reach a suitable ending.

And at least the most embarrassing things I've ever written and will ever write are behind me.

I hope.

Author SOS

I've had a lot of questions recently about how book sales are going, and the honest answer is, I have no idea. The even more honest answer is, it's not really about the money.

Folks ask where they should buy the book so I get a better cut, and truly, it doesn't matter. People want to help and I think that is amazing, but even checking my book out from the library - or requesting that your library order it if it isn't in the system - would help me out. The best thing you can do for me? If you liked my books, recommend them. Review them. Loan your copy to a friend. If you can't afford copies but want to read, ask me for one and I'll loan you mine. Really, really.

Because it's not about the money right now. it's about reach.

I will get paid, eventually, but I have no delusions about how much (not much). And while I absolutely believe that writers ought to be compensated well for their work, and that making a living writing is often the end game, that's not where I am right now. I work full-time and will likely continue to work full-time for the foreseeable future. I like what I do, so I'm okay with it. Writing for a living isn't something I can dream of until my books are in more hands and heads.

So, if you want me to keep writing and creating, share. Your thoughts, what you liked, what you didn't like, what you wanted to see more of, what you want to read next. Tell me, and tell the readers that you know. Share your copies with friends and family who you think would like them, too. Review, please, on Amazon and Goodreads.

This is a pretty bold cry from me in response to the love I've felt following the publication of my second book. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't like to ask for help even when I really need it - missed out on a critical life skill there, I know - but this is how you can help me, if you want to help me.

And if you don't or can't or forget or won't, that's cool, too. No one book is for every person, and we're still friends.

Top 5 Influential Childhood Reads

Every writer was a reader first. Have I said that before? Probably. But beyond the logistics of that necessarily needing to be the case, I imagine there are for all of us books we read in our youth that made us love stories, books that through the act of reading unlocked the desire to storytell within us. I’ve often wondered, especially after a rigorous six years of studying literature, what makes some writers pursue genre fiction and others more realistic avenues. I know I have, at least, read and loved books of all kinds, both as a young person and as an adult. But even the more literary short stories I wrote in graduate workshop always had a dreamy element, odd angles and awkward edges that made it harder to get by, to be taken seriously, to make the necessary social and academic connections with my more literal-minded peers.

In thinking about the books that moved me as a child, I wonder, what was it about these that made me the writer that I am, stubbornly, today?

What was it about Meg and Charles Wallace and their world(s) in A Wrinkle in Time that so appealed to me? A Wrinkle in Time is probably the first example of real science fiction that I read as a child. From the lasting image of Mrs. Who explaining traveling by tesseract to the mistaken jaunt to the world whose gravity nearly crushed the group to the haunting sameness of the world where her father was imprisoned, there was realized for me so much potential for strangeness and horror, but with a real heart beating between the turning of pages. I wanted more.

I recently tried to re-read Anne of Green Gables with the intent of getting to my later favorite in the series, Anne of the Island, and I was shocked to learn how little actually happens on the page. I remember Anne as adventurous and bold, dreaming with her and feeling as near to her scrapes as she was. But really, the reader is so much more like Marilla, merely hearing about these wild things that Anne has undertaken off the page. She comes home from a day at school or an afternoon in the fairy grove with Diana and tells Marilla, and be default, the reader, all about it. There’s very little actual doing to be read, and I wonder now if Anne isn’t in part to blame for how close I like to be to my narrators. I want to write each touch and taste of the world and invite the reader to taste and touch, too. Anne remains vibrant as ever despite the narrative choices, which is surely a testament to what a strong and likeable character she is.

The Island of the Blue Dolphins is the first of two orphan stories on this list, and really only one of many I devoured as a child. The quiet strength and resourcefulness of the main character was always a wonder to me as a child, and I loved all of the details about how she navigated her solitude, what she did, ate, made, and built, and how. I haven’t re-read this book as an adult, but I don’t remember her feeling sad or sorry for herself, but rather reckoning with what has happened to her through action – moving forward, rather than dwelling on the past. She was competent and serene and strong, and I wanted to think that I could be just like her, if I had to be.

The main character from The Secret Garden was, conversely, not serene. She had edges and angers that I liked, and a willfulness to take whatever she could from the hand she’d been dealt that greatly appealed to me. Also, there was just something so romantic about an English country house and the idea that a young woman alone could discover and conquer its secrets. I liked that she and the boys challenged and changed each other, and that they could each, in their own way, find happiness.

I also feel like it’s a hallmark of readers of my generation to still look for doors in hedges. Even my husband does it.

My love for The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and The Magician’s Nephew are nearly equal, and I think it’s because they both stretch beyond the boundaries of Narnia as know them in the rest of the books of the series. The memorable fountains as doorways to other worlds in The Magician's Nephew is such a treat that it’s one of my favorite things lifted into Lev Grossman’s The Magicians, and reaching the very edge of the horizon in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and being irrevocably changed by the experience was powerful and wonderful. We weren’t church-going when I was a child and the nearest I came to salvation was someone passing me a coloring sheet outside of a grocery store with a little prayer on it that I could say and “be saved,” so the religious overtures in Lewis’ works were always lost on me. What Lucy and Edmund and Eustace, and Digory and Polly and the others, experience was purely magical and human, and I reveled in it.

What about you? What were the childhood classics that shaped you?

See You on the Other Side

My first book was first published nearly four years ago, and it’s been with me in one form or another for far longer than that. There have been a number of instances since that have made me feel like a “real” author, but honestly, with the launch of my second book newly behind me, a signing at my favorite local independent bookseller is the realest. I love signings and I’ve written before about how conflicted I feel when I listen to other authors read and discuss their works, when I throw my money at them for a signed copy and some swag. I’m an avid reader and fangirl, and that’s not something that’s like to change, ever. But getting to be on the other side of the table, even once, it gives me thrills just thinking about it.

If you’re in Cincinnati or near to it, I hope you’ll consider stopping in and saying hello. I'll be at Joseph-Beth Booksellers at Rookwood Pavilion at 7 PM, discussing and signing both books. I’m going to be making buttons at our local library’s MakerSpace to give away, and I’ve also ordered cookies that will change your life. And, of course, there will be books!

Two Trick Pony

It seems foolish to dream for years (and years and years) about becoming a published author only to have pretty serious impostor syndrome once it finally happens. Despite continuing to write and being under contract to deliver the sequel to The Hidden Icon, I've felt with only one book under my publishing belt like a one trick pony. But today, I guess, I can do flips and kicks. Can jump fences and braid my own mane? I don't know. What sorts of tricks do ponies do? I'd probably honestly be the sort that just munches oats and lazes about.

While The Dread Goddess has been cropping up on shelves the last few days, it is now officially out in the world. You can buy it. You can read it. You can worry the pages thin, or use them for découpage projects if you don't like how I've handled something. I'm thrilled to share it with you, and to continue Eiren's story.

I do hope you like it. I loved writing it.

You're a Wizard, Harry

I traveled to Orlando in February for work and I absolutely took advantage of being down there to visit The Wizarding World of Harry Potter for the first time. And my goodness, friends, it will not be the last.

As a teenager, I remember thinking that I wasn't quite sure I bought into the idea of an afterlife, but if there was a heaven, it would for me be the ability to pass in and out of the innumerable fictional worlds that I loved. I still feel like this would be a pretty boss way to spend the life eternal, however unlikely it is.

But, at least I will die someday having spent time in Diagon Alley. Everything I read before our trip stressed that the meticulous and loving attention to detail in the parks is what makes them so special, and I couldn't agree more. I wandered and wondered, making time to see (almost) everything. Rowling's world as imagined in the films is so faithfully recreated I just sat down at one point, nursing an ice cream cone from Florean Fortescue's and soaking it in. Every shop front was spectacularly eccentric, and once inside, most shops took advantage of high ceilings to extend the world building above patrons' heads. I was liberal in my abuse of Instagram's Boomerang feature, capturing parts of the rotations of various animatronics throughout the park.

I patiently waited my turn behind children to cast spells with the ivy wand that chose me - YEAH THAT HAPPENED - my favorite being the slightly sinister chuckles granted by the spells particular to Knockturn Alley.

I rode Escape from Gringott's and The Forbidden Journey several times each, and the theming while we waited in line was just as delightful and immersive as the rides themselves. I love a good roller coaster, and dark rides are especially lovely for suspending disbelief. By the time I got over to Hogsmeade I was alone, so I didn't even get to see most of the cool stuff in Hogwarts Castle - good thing I'm going back next year.

I'm not even sure that I can choose a favorite thing to see or do, but I will say that the wand choosing ceremony is a must - I only got to participate because it was just us when we went there right as the park opened, and I went again later to watch another, more appropriately aged individual brought up. My wand was also the only thing that I bought myself, and worth every penny galleon. Wandering the parks casting spells - and finding the secret ones! - is an unparalleled treat. Ollivander's is honestly probably the most magical shop, though Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is a very close second. I also loved the puppet show in Diagon Alley, and the ride on the Hogwarts Express was incredibly charming - and surprisingly intimate.

Have you been to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios? What did you love?