writing life

Putting the A in YA

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 34 Comments
Last week I had an interesting conversation about “New Adult” with the author of this article, “Where Are All The Young “Adults?” She lamented – with good reason – that there is nothing for her to read that’s written specifically for her, at age 22. The closest a genre has come to successfully targeting those in their early twenties is the sub-genre Chick Lit in the late ’90s/early ’00s. Twentysomething males or women looking for something in a different genre were out of luck. I understand why the 18-25 crowd is frustrated with their lack of options, and their confusion over why Young Adult doesn’t include them.

YA is a sub-genre of fiction written specifically for (and starring) high school aged teens. If they are out of high school, the book is not a YA. (Note: There is some leeway with freshmen in college and 18-year-old protagonists, but those are on a case-by-case basis, and truthfully, if you want the book to be marketed as YA, you better have a darn good reason for making them that old.)

I wish YA was called something else (Teen Lit, perhaps?). For one, the name implies that the intended audience are adults. They’re not. Teens are what happen before adulthood and after childhood. I mentioned before that the term “teenager” didn’t come into the mainstream lexicon until the 1950s, and it took almost 40 years for YA – as a genre name – to have its own section in a bookstore. That’s a long time to wait for recognition, and as we all know too well, YA – even in its Renaissance Period of today – barely gets the respect it deserves.

Bringing me to “New Adult,” a sub-genre of fiction trying semi-hard to exist in the post-YA, pre-adult marketplace for those between the ages of 18 and 25. I am all for this. The college experience, figuring out grad school, jobs, not living off your parents, etc. are hard to deal with and they are certainly not “adult” concerns.  They deserve their own literature. So why hasn’t it caught on yet?

To me, there are two reasons why New Adult isn’t a marketable genre, and why it probably won’t be for at least another ten years. 

Theory #1: Before “teenager” came into the lexicon, there wasn’t a need to think of them as something different. Pop culture hadn’t given them a voice yet. They didn’t have rock ‘n roll or heartthrobs or beach movies being marketed directly to them. The concept of marketing to teens separately from adults and children was something that lasted well through the ’80s. But then, the ’90s happened and the “twentysomething” was born. (OK, well technically they were born in the ’70s, but you know what I mean.)

Teens were still being directly marketed to, but now another group of people had their own language and pop culture – Gen X. They read books by Bret Easton Ellis (found in the adult section) and watched movies like Slackers and Dazed and Confused. “Grown-ups” didn’t understand them, and teenagers only looked admiringly at them from afar (like I did).

This idea of an extended adolescence wasn’t something that previous generations had the privilege of experiencing. Gen X was the first generation to come out of the Baby Boomers. Many of them were the first of their families to go to college, have a choice other than marriage or military, and live without mortgages and jobs and car payments just a little bit longer. 

When you think of how long it took for YA to become a genre after teenagers were finally given a name, New Adult even being discussed as a possibility feels like progress. Even a “Big 6” publisher has started looking for titles under that heading. Knowing this, I don’t think New Adult will take quite as long as YA to get recognized by the masses. The fact remains, however, that it’s not a sub-genre that exists yet.

When I get queries for New Adult, I’m torn. I can either request it, knowing I’m only going to tell the writer to make it older or younger. Or, I end up rejecting it if I know the story can’t be older or younger. As much as I think New Adult should be a genre, I know there’s nothing I can do about it all by myself. Writers can’t write for a marketplace that doesn’t exist, and agents can’t sell to a publisher if the publishers can’t sell it to a bookstore. So, for now, that 20-year-old protagonist who’s still in college who you think teens should read about is going to get placed in the general adult fiction section of most major bookstores.

Theory #2: Like I said, New Adult will happen eventually, but the fact remains that it will need to sell in order to prove itself. And, well, I’m skeptical. I think New Adult is great in theory, but as someone who’s no longer in that 18-25 age range, I speak for only for myself when I say it’s unlikely I’d look in the New Adult section of a bookstore to find something to read. While I make exceptions to any genre I’m not particularly drawn to, New Adult holds very little interest to me. So, why? After all, I read YA.

For one, maybe there’s just not enough distance between my current age and the New Adult age, so I’ve had less time to feel nostalgic for it. (And egad! Why on earth would anyone want to re-live being 22??) But I don’t read YA because I’m nostalgic for high school. I read YA because of the emotions it evokes, and knowing that the human experience at that age is pretty universal.

It’s true that not everyone goes to the same type of high school, or even goes to high school, but everyone goes through puberty. Everyone feels what it’s like to not understand any of your emotions or why they are suddenly happening all at once or why hugging your parents is much more embarrassing than it was the year before.

With New Adult, there is no universal experience. Within the genre, there are too many niche markets to consider, which makes it that much harder to place. Not everyone goes to college or makes the same choices when entering adulthood. Even within the group who goes to college, the experiences differ in ways that are much more polarizing than going to different high schools. No matter what kind of high school you went to, we were all forced to take the same general courses or participate in the same extracurricular activities. 

The Gen X definition of twentysomething created the template for the next generation, but it’s still considered a privilege to go to college, to live off your parents, to have an extension on avoiding adulthood. If you ask the person who opted to get married and have kids right after high school, or even right after college, their experience of being a New Adult will look a lot closer to what those who chose to wait consider Real Adult.

So, then, is New Adult really “College Lit?” That creates an even smaller market. There’s a reason “The College Years” of high school TV shows fail. There’s just not enough people who care. The original teen audience can’t relate, the adults out of college think of it as too young, and the actual target audience is too busy being in college, working, or starting families to watch TV or read for fun.

To current 18-25 year olds, I know this sucks for you. It’s not your fault you’re the 1st group of New Adults to exist after Gen X (unknowingly) gave you a name. And it’s not your fault no one thought of creating books for you, anticipating your arrival. Someone needs to be the pioneer, and unfortunately that someone is going to be you. Write stories about your experiences, as different and as wide-ranging as they may be. Give us something to listen to, and we’ll respond. We might just take a while. 

What’s the Deal With Self-Publishing?

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 23 Comments

I’m very excited to begin a new week on the blog with a very important, very specific theme. It will be a week-long series of interviews and stories, and I hope you all learn a lot from them. But first – some back story.

Since 2008, the publishing industry has been… confused. Technology caught up with it just in time for the recession, and it was left not really knowing what to do with itself. Since then, there have been who-knows-how-many articles and blog posts predicting the death of books. These rumors have been greatly exaggerated. It took publishing a while to recover, but we’re doing just fine now, thank you. No matter how books will be read in the future, there will always be an industry responsible for making them.

It’s still uncertain, the way every business is uncertain in times of economic instability, and it’s competitive as ever to get your book published. While publishing was at its weakest, technology allowed a new viable option – self-publishing. And it sure looks attractive these days. Self-publishing has been around long before 2008. Lulu.com, for example, began almost ten years ago, even before self-publishing was as simple uploading a PDF and having your book immediately available for download.

In a way, self-publishing is a bit like internet dating. First, it was only for those who didn’t have what it took for “the real world.” The stigma was massive; it was something to be ashamed of. Then you hear about your friends doing it, and suddenly you become less skeptical. And now it is practically commonplace.

Commonplace, but not without stigma that is.

I’m not going to pretend I haven’t been guilty of looking down at self-published authors. After all, it’s my job  to make sure authors aren’t doing this alone. No one in publishing wants to see an author get taken advantage of, which is why we’re always telling writers how much value there is in traditional publishing. In fact, I like the tradition. Agents are important. Editors are important. Publicists and copyeditors and subrights managers are important.

There are writers out there who believe agents and publishers are “threatened” by self-publishing because it bypasses the steps we usually handle. They claim that’s why we in the industry “hate it.” I can only speak on behalf of myself, but that is not why self-publishing makes me nervous.

There are three things about self-publishing that scare me, actually.

1) There are still writers out there who aren’t aware that companies like PublishAmerica and AuthorHouse shouldn’t be charging them to publish their books, and that they should be the ones paying the writers for the privilege.

2) Too many forums and comments online have enforced an idea that agents and publishers are greedy or want to hinder writers’ creativity. This turns many writers against traditional publishing, making them take matters into their own hands. And that’s when writers can do themselves a disservice without even realizing it. Writing takes a lot of time and then even more time to get right. All writers need an editor. Then, even once the book is finished and you press that Publish button, the work doesn’t stop. You become your own accountant, publicist, agent, and assistant. Where’s the time to write your next book? It’s a lot of responsibility that most people are not experienced in having all at once.

3) Then there are the success stories. We’ve all heard them. Amanda Hocking and John Locke are self-made millionaires. Barry Eisler walks away from a $500,000 advance to self-publish instead. These success stories are wonderful for the authors involved, and they serve as proof that self-publishing is no longer a dirty little secret among writers. The stigma, however, remained in a way that was even more polarizing. The allure of self-publishing was even greater because now, in addition to avoiding rejection, there was a chance of becoming a millionaire. Doing anything for money is always a bad idea. Always. Chances are, you won’t become rich. Like the person on the news who won the state lottery, success stories can be great and inspiring. But they are too rare to rely on.

For every writer who uses self-publishing to become success story, there’s one who is just sick of being rejected. Those are the two extremes, and unfortunately they have clouded the judgment of many, myself included. I also believe that most people don’t fall under extremes. Most writers have nothing against tradition; they just want their stories to be heard and found a way to do it. Truthfully, sometimes self-publishing is the better option (as explained in more detail by literary agent Meredith Barnes), and if traditional publishing can have mid-list authors, why can’t self-publishing?

These smart, talented, tech savvy mid-list authors are who I’m devoting this week to here on the blog. Self-published writers Marilyn Peake, Tracy Marchini, Michelle Davidson Argyle, and Karen Hooper, who did not self-publish but decided to go indie without an agent, will all share their experiences on going it alone.

NOTE: Yes, I am still a literary agent. Yes, I will always tell writers to exhaust all traditional options before looking into self-publishing. This week isn’t about me. This blog is, and always has been, for writers and as a place for writers, it’s important to me that I present any helpful information I can offer. Glass Cases is mine alone, and does not represent the agency I work for in any way, shape, or form. I cannot stress that enough.

Hope you enjoy this break in our regularly scheduled programming, and check back in tomorrow to hear about sci-fi writer Marilyn Peake’s road to self-publishing.

Taking Advice

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 29 Comments

I saw this list of quotes from Stephen King today, and immediately thought “YES!” when I read the first one: “The road to hell is paved with adverbs.”

As you know, I give writing advice a lot. I speak from a Bachelors and a Masters in creative writing and (more importantly) as a professional in the publishing industry. I’d like to think I’m pretty qualified to give writing advice, as are many other publishing professionals who offer advice on a regular basis. All we can do is sit back and hope people listen. (Mostly so we don’t have to repeat ourselves.)

That said, I understand why some writers don’t take our advice.

With so much subjectivity in the field, how does one differentiate between personal taste and unarguable truth? The thing is, there are always going to be exceptions to rules, so nothing is ever set in stone. But! For the most part, especially for a debut author who’s way less likely to be able to break any rules, there are some things you’ll just need to take an editor’s word on.

Bringing me back to adverbs. Poor, poor adverbs. The thing is, they can be used in moderation, but no one ever uses them sparingly enough, so they get ruined for everybody. Adverbs are words that seem to be universally hated by writing professionals, and yet writers continue to use (and abuse) them. It makes me wonder who is listening to writing advice out there.

So I ask you, fair writers:
How often do you listen to writing advice from professionals, either via blogs, conferences, or Twitter?
How many second opinions do you require before you’re able to think of suggestions as “rules?”
When something is as frowned upon as adverbs, are you still able to write it off as “personal preference?”

Thanks, friends 🙂

What’s In a Name?

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 17 Comments

To answer my own question – a lot.

I’m a big fan of titles. A clever or evocative title is what makes a reader – myself included – pick up a book off the shelves. In fact, its title first drew me to The Perks of Being a Wallflower and the rest, as they say, was history.

Titles, like books themselves, can have trends, which I’ve spoken about before. Right now, for example, one-word titles or thought-provoking “The [something] of the [something]” seem to be the hot new things in marketing. These things change, but what never changes is the importance of a title that will grab a reader’s attention.

It’s very hard to come up with a good title. I’ve heard writers say they don’t bother coming up with anything too creative because “the publisher is going to change it anyway.” Honestly, this is sort of true. Depending on the way the market is going by the time your book comes out, or what hip new trends are popular, the publisher will input their expertise based on what will make your book more eye-catching to a buyer. No one is out to stifle your creativity or make you think it’s unappreciated. But sometimes that’s just the way it is. It’s about selling your book.

Publishers don’t always change your title on you though. And what’s more, from an agent’s point of view, seeing an unimaginative title, or one that doesn’t capture the spirit of the book, makes me think you’re not trying hard enough. If you slap a lame title on your book, who’s to say your writing isn’t unimaginative too? Is that a fair statement? No. Is a good or bad title a deal breaker? Absolutely not! But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t run through my head, even if just momentarily.

So, what do I mean by “bad” title?

– Ambiguous verbs that can be the title of any book
– Titles that evoke no emotion, image, or intrigue
– Titles that have been done before. (It’s true, titles are not protected by copyright law, but use your best judgment. You can’t name your book after a bestseller or popular film. Song titles are also a bit cringe-worthy, but there’s more wiggle room there.)
– Unnecessarily long or hard to say out loud. (See “Rural Juror” episode of 30 Rock – it’s very important to read things aloud before committing to any kind of phrasing or word choice)

Conversely, a “good” title is one that grabs a reader’s attention without giving too much away. It should encapsulate the book in a way the reader doesn’t understand yet.

Sure, your story is what matters most, but those little things can add up in your favor too. Titles are hard, but don’t shy away from them because you think they’re not important or will get changed. You know what else is hard? Writing. And we all know that gets changed in the editing process all the time.

Personal Politics

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 8 Comments

If you’ve been in the blogosphere and Twittersphere today, you may have heard about this article, which told the story of two authors who were told by an agent to “straighten” their gay characters. The authors, Rachel Manija Brown and Sherwood Smith, weren’t sure if the agent in question had a personal stance on LGBT people, or if the decision was about LGBT characters who, in his or her opinion, might have been marketing liabilities. After you read the article, and this blog post, please check out the #YesGayYA hashtag on Twitter. Agents, editors, and authors who write and accept LGBT characters have been saying some very reassuring things over there. (While I have yet to contribute to the hashtag, let me just say that I am one of the agents who seek out LGBT characters!)

This introduction is my way of talking about a larger issue. It’s one that I’ve been thinking about for a while. Like the authors of the article, let me just repeat that I do not know, or even assume, that the agent’s political or religious beliefs affected their decision. I choose to believe that the agent thought straight characters would gain a larger audience, which is a little sad and misguided, but it’s not sinister or even homophobic. Still, I think it warrants the question, should someone’s personal politics affect their business choices?

Like I said, I’ve thought about this before today, and to me the answer is no. I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to assume, based on things I say in real life and online, that writers are aware I’m a liberal. It’s part of my personal belief system, and while I try to keep it at bay in a professional setting, things do slip out. I don’t ever want to get into a political discussion on my blog because that’s not what it is for, so allow me to explain why I bring this up.

Sometimes I get queries that have agendas. And sometimes writers will query me with them because they think I share their desire to spread that agenda. I don’t. I never will. It’s true that I wouldn’t feel comfortable representing a book whose purpose is to promote a belief I don’t share – particularly if it’s one I feel strongly about. However, there are other queries that clearly have an anti-Republican stance, and the fact these writers think I’d want to spread that stance is insulting. On the other side of it, some projects might even have a story about a specific “liberal” cause I personally believe in, but I have absolutely no interest in perpetuating something so overt. These types of books are sometimes called “issue books,” and plenty of agents represent them. They even seek them out. But those books make me uncomfortable most of the time because it’s hard to talk about a specific issue without choosing a side. Good fiction, in my opinion, should come without political motive. When a story is good, the reader will interpret their own meaning from it. One person’s cautionary tale is another person’s happy ending.

There have been books I love – even projects I represent – who have characters who think in a way I do not, or have underlying themes that aren’t always in keeping with my personal philosophy. It’s an important part of this business to know what will offend vs. what might be disagreeable. If the hero of your story happens to be a religious man who thinks marriage is between a man and a woman, then he can still be a hero to me even if I disagree with him. However, if your story is about a religious man who tries to stop a gay marriage law from being passed in his home state, then to me he is no longer a hero. It’s a fine line, but it’s there.

If you’re ever in a situation – and hopefully you’re not – in which an agent or editor tells you to change a character in a way that fundamentally alters that character’s livelihood, then don’t be afraid to ask why. If they claim a marketing standpoint, then go do market research to try to prove them wrong. Or look for other agents and editors who might think differently. (Note: I mean look to see if they exist. Don’t leave your agent on the spot.) If it seems unanimous that the agent might have a point (or mostly unanimous since nothing in this business ever is), then try to consider their suggestion.

But if you think the agent or editor is imposing personal politics on you, then you have every right to reject them. If they aren’t willing to compromise their morals, then you shouldn’t be the one who has to.

The article I linked to is sad, but it doesn’t speak for all of us. I think most agents and editors do put aside personal politics for the greater good. Stories are what matter. Writers are what matter. Readers are what matter. If your work speaks to readers, we will find a way to work with you.

What The Fudge?

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 24 Comments

In high school, my AP English teacher gave us the freedom to choose which book to read individually for our final paper. She tried to push Catcher in the Rye by adding “you’ll like it; there’s swearing in it.” (Despite what you may believe, based on the name of this blog, I did not choose Catcher. I had already read it, so I chose Lord of the Flies.) I remember she specifically added the “swearing” bit because when I had read it I didn’t even notice those words were there. I was too wrapped up in the ball of emotion that was Holden Caulfield and the journey through New York City to pay attention to things like that. If he swore at all, then it was as natural and as necessary as any other word.

We often talk about sex in YA, violence in video games, and other things that might not be “appropriate” for our nation’s youth. While the question of gratuitous language does come up, it’s discussed – on the whole – far less. I should mention that when I talk about “colorful” language in books, I’m not just talking about YA. If anything, teens use curse words way more than adults because, like drinking, adults learn when to hold back, when it’s appropriate, and when to indulge.

I bring this up because I was recently reading a manuscript – one that I was excited to begin – and I could not get over how many F-bombs were on the first page. Obviously this narrator was mad. But I didn’t know who he was, why I should care, if the person he was angry with really was a “bitch,” as he claimed, or even where he was. It felt like I was being bombarded with emotion that I wasn’t ready to take on as a reader. The narrator went on to drop this language into conversation, and every time it felt forced and unnatural. Eventually I had to give up on the story because it was so distracting to read.

Certain things are translated differently when they are on the page, which is why, as novelists, you need to be more conscious of the image you project. Writers like Quentin Tarantino and David Mamet don’t have to worry about that as much. (If you’re familiar with their work, you can probably guess why I chose them as examples.) They aren’t writing for the page. In the flash of a single image, their world, setting, and even character can be immediately established. As a result, their characters can say whatever the fuck they want.

Novelists don’t have that luxury. Yes, their characters can say whatever they want, but when they can say it matters a little bit more in books than it does in movies. It takes longer to introduce your character and establish a connection to your reader – especially if you’re writing in 3rd person. First-person narration might makes things easier since you’re establishing your main character’s voice right from the beginning. Even still, the reader needs to understand his or her POV before they’re forced into it. 

Now, lest you think I’m just being prudish about “the devil’s words,” I’ll admit that not all swear words are bad and no one needs to be sheltered from them. Sometimes they need to be added, not taken away. If your character finds himself in some seriously fucked up shit, then he better call it like he sees it. Even the mildest person in the world will let out a quiet “motherfucker!” when they stub their toe. It’s natural and sometimes a curse is the only word that can sum up events.

Whether you’re writing YA or adult fiction, treat swear words the same way you would any other word. Sometimes they need to get edited out, and sometimes they fit so perfectly that the reader barely notices them. If you’re ever in doubt about whether you’re being excessive or not excessive enough, just ask yourself two questions: Is this something my character would say? and Does this type of language fit the situation? Like with most things, there are exceptions to rules and ways to bend them, but in most situations, answering these two questions will suffice.

I’m of the mindset that almost everything can be appropriate for all ages if done properly. Why hold anything back if it will resonate with your audience and enrich your story? But make smart choices. Swear words are just words the same way sex and violence are just actions. They each have a slightly heavier weight than their counterparts, sure, but ultimately it’s up to you whether your story needs carry it.

How to Get an MFA in Five Steps

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 27 Comments

This week, GalleyCat promoted New York Writers Workshop’s free ebook of Portable MFA in Creative Writing. While I have nothing against the existence of this book as a writing guide (the people over at the New York Writers Workshop are successful, well-known, and respected in their fields), I was skeptical of it proclaiming to give writers the MFA experience. A GED does not have the same weight as a high school diploma, and a certificate from the University of Phoenix is not a college education. So how could a free ebook come close to substituting a Masters degree? [Note: I don’t think the writers of this book believe it can either. It’s just a catchy title. But, it’s one that implies “an MFA is too expensive, so buy this book instead.”]

I’ll be the first to admit that an MFA in creative writing is a luxury degree. No one needs it. That doesn’t mean that, even after my accumulated $60,000 debt, I regret getting one. I’d recommend an MFA program to anyone who’s serious about writing, but I can see why some might not think it’s worth the price of admission. The good news is there are ways to cut costs and achieve (relatively) the same results. You just need to be willing to put in the work, and realize it’s not going to come from one source or happen overnight.

So here goes – my MFA in Five (Not-Always-Easy) Steps:

1. Buy the following books:
On Writing by Stephen King
Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose
The Breakout Novelist by Donald Maass

There are a million writing guides all proclaiming to be the only one you need. Do you ever only need one book though? Besides, if you found this blog you’re already savvy enough to know the internet is full of free advice that comes directly from agents, editors, and published authors. The three books I mentioned, however, are what I consider “the best” of many, many books on writing. You want to pick them up, trust me. And hey, buy the Portable MFA while you’re at it (or download it for free!) because it sounds like they have some good people over there. (I realize that sounds sarcastic, but I promise I’m being sincere!)

2. Read Literary Fiction.
Rarely will you find an MFA program that teaches genre fiction, and the reason is not because it’s “looked down upon.” My former colleague Nathan Bransford summed up what he called “the reverse snobbery” of literary fiction quite nicely (here), and I could not agree more. There seems to have been a backlash against literary fiction – that it’s too high brow, that they want something “real,” and that it’s not accessible. The thing is, sometimes those things are true and sometimes none of those things are true. Like with every genre, the stereotypes attached to it give it a bad name.

“Accessible” literary fiction like Michael Chabon, Jennifer Egan, and Jonathan Lethem are what I tend to fall back on when I’m able to read for fun. We all have our favorite genres. But if you’re trying to give yourself an MFA-style education, you need to push yourself. That’s why they teach the uber-literary in MFA programs. Reading the same book you’d read while commuting or at the beach is not going to help you learn anything you don’t already know. So pick up something you’d never buy otherwise. Pynchon maybe? Nabokov that’s not Lolita? Personally, I’d recommend some post-modern Barthelme. Sometimes you need to read something that will make you scratch your head, stretch your mind, and remind yourself that you’re a scholar.

3. Go to readings at your local bookstore.
This is something all the advice in the world can’t replicate. Seeing established authors in person reading aloud from their published work. Then, if you’re lucky, speaking to them – whether in a Q&A session or during a quick handshake before they sign your book. Witness what writing is when it’s off the page.

4. Give yourself “in class” assignments.
Set a timer for 10 minutes and write as many words as you can. It doesn’t matter what the topic is or even that they make sense as a cohesive idea. Just move your pen. Or type – whatever your preference. The goal isn’t to develop a story, but just to see where your mind takes you.

Another favorite in-class assignment of mine was to take a famous writer, study their sentence structure, and then try to replicate it. You’d be amazed at how hard this is. Pick literary writers, or the classics, for this task. Stretch your limits and go beyond your comfort zone. I once had to mimic Proust and produced a long, lyrical sentence about Wal-Mart. Like with the previous assignment, the importance isn’t placed on what you write, but rather how you’re writing it. 

(Although once you deem yourself ready to graduate and want to focus on publishing your work, I recommend taking authors within your genre and studying their structures. While it won’t be as “artful,” it’s a good way to learn what they’re doing, how you’d compete, and what you’d add to the market.)

5. Join a writer’s group or take a creative writing class at a local college.
Again, physically being near other writers is something you can’t find in a book. The most important aspects of an education is experiencing, learning-by-doing, and meeting people. Specifically, meeting strangers. Cheat on your beta readers and workshop your manuscript with people you don’t know, and maybe aren’t even sure you can trust. Sit uncomfortably and optimistically while your classmates tell you every single thing that is wrong with your work directly to your face. It’s wonderful and horrifying and makes you a stronger person. Their word isn’t bond, but how you interpret their advice will make you a smarter, more prepared writer.

This Five-Step Program will not, and should not, take less than one year to complete. Diplomas will be awarded upon graduation, though I cannot guarantee they won’t just be photos of corgis in party hats.

Good forth and learn, you bright young things!

Gateway Books

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 12 Comments

As an agent, I represent both YA and adult fiction because as a reader, I love both equally. Admittedly, I read a lot more YA than adult, especially since I became an agent, because that’s what’s sent to me most often. (Note: this is not a complaint!) It’s my job to keep up with the markets I’m specializing in, so even in those rare moments of free time, I read YA.

However, in the same way I can’t read too many books within any specific genre in a row, I find that too much YA leaves me craving something more grown up, something written with absolutely no regard for a younger audience. The language gets denser, the characters are closer to my age, and the situations are more relevant to my life. As complex and literary and wonderful as YA can be, the whole point of it is to speak to the teenage experience. I don’t think I’m alone here when I say that remaining in high school forever feels like a cruel joke. Much like in my actual teen years, sometimes all I want to do is graduate and embrace the adult experience.

There are many other readers out there who manage to strike this same balance between YA and adult fiction. But, there are others who are clearly in one camp or the other. I’ve met readers (and writers) who barely know any modern adult fiction titles because they only follow the YA community. Likewise (as we read about way more often than we should), adult fiction readers, of both commercial and literary tastes, tend to either a) think of YA as “kid stuff,” which to them includes teens, or b) don’t understand what YA is and don’t enough care to find out.

Neither side here is right, and in their own way, neither side is really wrong. As long as one refrains from bashing the other, it all comes down to personal preference. But if you’re one of those readers who spends way too much time reading one vs. the other; or you want to try YA, but you’re hung up on the stigma of shopping in the “teen” section; or you’re waiting for an adult novel to speak to you as much as YA has, then might I suggest a few gateway titles that will make the transition easier:

1. Election by Tom Perrotta: Ah, Tracy Flick. The original Hermione Granger, minus the ability to conjure spells. All Tracy conjured was an immediate sense of annoyance and disdain… but who also had an odd likability. She wants to be president of her high school and one day conquer the world, but her teacher, Mr. M, would rather that didn’t happen. The novel takes place in high school and only has one real adult protagonist (if you want to call him that) in the mix of teenagers. Yet it’s a deeply rich satire about politics and scandal. If you’ve seen the equally brilliant film version, then you know this isn’t meant to speak directly to the teenage experience, but it features teens we all know, even sometimes love.

2. The History of Love by Nicole Krauss: I read this book in a class called “Young Adult as the Narrator” when I was getting my MFA and couldn’t understand why this book was even on the course list. It had nothing to do with young adult fiction, or so I thought. Which I guess was the point of the class. Told from the alternating perspectives of 14-year-old Alma and 90-year-old Leo, it’s a story about family and survival and self-discovery. While no one could accidentally misplace this in the YA section like they could with Election, The History of Love is a novel teenagers would enjoy because its core themes transcend age, like all good novels should. But with a young narrator, it makes the crossover appeal that much easier to take in.

3. I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith: Published in the late 1940s, this novel also features a teenage narrator whose focus is on her family. It’s hard for me not to compare this novel to Jane Austen – wise-beyond-her-years young woman sees herself as an outsider in her formerly prominent family, who is dealing with the changing times in the English countryside. Then, to shake things up, handsome (American!) young men move in next door and matchmaking ensues… It’s all there, but 17-year-old Cassandra Morton’s family are no Bennetts. They are dysfunctional and broken and wildly eccentric – and Cassandra’s sharp eye and wit is there to capture it all.

4. How I Paid for College by Marc Acito: The subtitle for this book is “A Novel of Sex, Theft, Friendship, and Musical Theater” and I picked it up in the bookstore for that reason. I was 20 when I read it, and having been a proud member of my high school’s drama club, a book about “play people” (as they’re called in the book) who drink, have sex, and go on madcap adventures to New York City was appealing. This book would probably be more for adult readers who want to segue into YA, but honestly even knowing what I know now about the industry, I’m not sure where I’d categorize this. I bought it in the regular fiction section, but it could very easily fit in on a YA shelf next to Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist or Youth in Revolt. It’s a crazy book and laugh-out-loud funny (a phrase I do not use lightly!). Basically every age group should read it, even if you weren’t a play person.

5. Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card: This is an easy, if not obvious, pick coming from me. Not only does it introduce reluctant YA readers to a younger character, but it introduces sci-fi skeptics to a world where battling aliens is just as important as the literary writing style and richly developed characters. The thing about Ender is that he is very young, not even a teenager. So while the overarching plot is pure sci-fi territory, the readers get to see a very simple coming of age story. Just thinking about it makes me want to re-read it. I’ve also just noticed Orson Scott Card’s original dedication as I leafed through my copy – “For Geoffrey, who makes me remember how young and how old children can be.” It can’t really be said better than that, can it?

Reading the above-mentioned titles will not only convert reluctant readers on both sides, but they will also help any of you writers out there who are thinking crossing age lines. You may have noticed that several adult authors are tackling YA these days (Grisham and Patterson among the larger names). You may have also noticed it’s not a matter of simply “dumbing down” prose and making a few characters younger. It’s writing with an entirely different viewpoint in mind, one that most adults have not considered in quite a while. Tapping into a part of your brain that hasn’t been used in decades is not easy. Oh no, how do teens think? Will they understand if I use this literary device? Do they modern-day teens even care about this anymore? It’s easy to get yourself worked up over whether your audience will “get” you if you are trying something completely new. Same goes for YA authors trying adult for the first time. I find that if I read too many YA voices in a row, the switch to an adult perspective can be jarring. Switching your brain in order to write it is even more of a challenge. Even though the adult voice is the writer’s own voice, it is still a daunting task. That’s where crossover titles – Gateway Books – come in. They exist in the middle, and writers can pick and choose what they need to take from them.

If you’re wondering why I left out the more obvious titles of To Kill a Mockingbird, Catcher in the Rye, or Huck Finn, it’s because you already read them. Also, with the exception of Dodie Smith, the above titles are for the more contemporary reader. I find “classics” to be classics for a reason; people of all age groups have accepted them as “great” or are being told they’re great high school. Contemporary fiction is still divided. You either “like that kind of thing” or don’t. Not enough time has passed to see where they’ll fall in the literary spectrum.

Whether you’re on Team YA or Team Adult, I guarantee reading the above-mentioned titles (in no particular order) will help you find value in both styles of writing – one way or the other. Unfortunately, this is not a money-back-guarantee, so in case I’m proven wrong please accept the following song as a consolation.

(But I doubt I’ll be proven wrong. You will love them and learn from them!)

Have a good weekend, everyone.

When Do You Write?

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 27 Comments

I’ve noticed something in my query inbox lately that I find interesting. In the past two or three weeks, my request rate has dropped dramatically. Or, I should say, it’s dropped back down to normal. I didn’t even realize I had been requesting fewer manuscripts until I saw that from June 9 to June 21, I received 0 material due to lack to requests. This lag between requests isn’t uncommon, especially after I compared it to other months. The reason it felt so wrong to me, though, is because for the entire month of May, and the first week in June, I had requested at least one manuscript (sometimes more) almost every single day.

This means that a) my reading pile for May was massive – yes, I am still getting through it; and b) the quality of the queries, and the writing, that month was noticeably higher. Most of what I received were from people who clearly did their homework, knew what I was looking for, what I might like, and delivered. I can only assume they spent an entire winter researching only me; that’s how well-matched many of these queries were to my personal tastes.

The bulk of June hasn’t been like that, and I’m starting to wonder if it’s a summer slump. (Note: There were, of course, some gems, regardless of whether I had requested or passed on them.) Does the slowness of June mean writers are taking a break from querying? Was that request-rush in May just a fluke that may or may not happen again?

Or, have writers toiled away all winter to finish their masterpieces so that queries could be good and sent by the time summer hit? Alternatively, have they all left for an exotic writer’s retreat on the beach, where they will spend every day of the summer simultaneously working on tans and new novels to query by winter?

I’m not sure, and the reason is more likely that this was simply a slow month that will pick up again by July. But, it’s made me wonder when writers write. Are there better times than others? Are certain seasons more inspiring, depending on the project? Or is it a less exciting matter of simply when you find the time?

You tell me, writers. When do you get your best work done? And when do you decide it’s time to query that work?

(Blogger’s note: Speaking of summer, I’ll be on vacation beginning mid-week, so there won’t a publication this Wednesday, and no regular posts until July 6. Enjoy your 4th of July weekend, everyone!)

What I Talk About When I Talk About Revisions

~ SarahLaPolla ~ 19 Comments

Like many agents, I will ask for a revision of a manuscript before I make an offer of representation. I don’t do this with every manuscript I request. Sometimes I know that a particular novel either isn’t working plot-wise, the writer’s style differs from what I’m looking for, or the main character isn’t engaging enough to me. In these cases, it’s obvious that I’m just not the agent for them. I would never request a revision based on something that came down to personal preference. There are other agents, after all.

Sometimes, though, there are manuscripts that scream potential. I can’t speak for all agents, but the first things I look for in a manuscript are plot development and the main character – if those two things are done well, then we’re in business. Well, almost in business. Even if you have the idea, the writing ability, and the awesome main character that readers of all ages will fall in love with, there are still other factors to consider. These other factors are what I take into consideration when I ask for revisions.

What are these other factors, you ask? More often than not, in my request pile anyway, it comes down to supporting characters, pacing, and general marketability. Other agents may come across different factors. A writer can nail the larger issues at hand, but the rest of the novel, when not written with the same quality, can make the entire project suffer – no matter how amazing everything else was by itself.

If you’re a writer who’s been in this situation, I’m sure this is frustrating. (Even after you have an agent, you will still hear this from editors too. Then it’s frustrating for both of us!) When an agent comes back to you after weeks (if not months) of making you wait for a response, only to tell you they want you to go through it all over again, you probably think (after cursing a bit), But if you love the project so much, why not offer representation and then we can work on revisions together??? Sorry, but it’s not that easy.

Agents aren’t just taking on your project; they’re taking on you. When I ask for a revision, it means I’m incredibly interested in offering representation (I would not be willing to read the same manuscript over again otherwise). But, in my own way, I’m also testing writers. Most writers are willing to revise, so that’s rarely an issue. What I need to know is are they able to revise. Before I take on a new client, I have to ask myself, Can they effectively revise? Do they understand what I’m asking? Is this going to be a pleasant working relationship?

I’m thinking about revisions lately because I’ve had not one, but three, heartbreaking experiences this past month, and each were over those “other factors” I mentioned above:

1. Supporting Characters.
I surprised myself by loving a particular manuscript as much as I did. I requested it based on the premise, and it ended up having everything else I was looking for. I couldn’t stop reading – until! I was taken out of the narrative completely for about 50 pages. That’s a lot of pages to lose interest in a manuscript, but I had faith in it, so I pushed through. As I suspected, it picked up where it left off and I loved it again, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that chunk where I didn’t love it and how it effected other areas of the novel. I isolated the problem and realized it was one character’s fault. If only he was introduced later instead of earlier, then the problem could have been avoided and the novel as a whole would have become that much stronger. Something that seems minor never really is. Every piece of a novel matters, and sometimes that one thing is enough to make an agent wary of its ability to sell. If I was taken out of the story, an editor probably will be too. And they are usually less forgiving in terms of asking for revisions.

2. Pacing.
Sometimes I fear my clients think I nitpick about minor issues – sentence structure, wordy language, rearranging of paragraphs. Sure, compared to character development and the actual plot, these things seem less important. But they all contribute to the pacing of the novel. Does your writing style hold the reader’s interest? Are you being slowed down by unnecessary dialogue? Where does the action begin and how are you sustaining that tension while advancing the plot? Will an overuse of adjectives and adverbs make editors’ heads explode? (Yes.) Again, everything matters. Pacing was the issue with Heartbreaking Manuscript #2. Sometimes when a novel moves too slowly, it makes the characters themselves appear boring. I knew that this was not the case with this particular manuscript, yet I kept wondering why they were doing certain things or when they would do certain things. There was a lot of leg shaking. When pacing is the only thing preventing the novel from being truly great, and I see potential in the writer’s ability to improve it, I absolutely ask for a revision.

3. Marketability.
I think this is the concept that most writers dread, so if it makes any of you feel any better, I never request anything unless I think it has market potential. I mean, none of us are reading in our leisure time here. This is our job. However, sometimes – as in the case of Heartbreaking Manuscript #3 – the writing just doesn’t match the idea. When I received the query, I practically jumped up and did a fist pump (but I didn’t, I swear!). It was literary while still appreciating genre. It combined different styles that I am particularly fond of. It had an amazing hook. The query itself was well-written, clear, and professional. Basically I wanted to hug it. I requested the full and perhaps I had gotten my hopes up a bit, but when I sat down to read it, my heart sank. As imaginative as the story was, the writing fell flat in comparison. Don’t get me wrong, the writing was good. It just wasn’t especially clever or vivid, and the characters, while possessing a few redeeming qualities, didn’t jump off the page. In other words, it just wasn’t good enough. And that’s what I mean by marketability. Many writers have ideas that the market supports, but if the writing doesn’t make that idea stand out in the crowd, the novel won’t sell. Which means editors can’t buy. Which means I can’t offer representation. Sadly, it’s a lot harder to ask for a revision in this case because someone either has exceptional talent or they don’t. Usually I won’t ask for a revision in this case. But in the rare instances where I’ll continue to think about the initial query and see its potential, the best I can offer is a few examples of what direction I’d like the writing to take, and hope the writer sees a larger picture.

In the same way you want an agent who understands your work, agents want a client who understands their needs. The power of revision is strong. We don’t just request them for fun or “to be nice.” We request them because we see potential in your work that’s not being realized yet. In fact, the majority of my client list is the result of spot-on resubmissions. In their cases, I had no doubt about their writing ability and loved their ideas. When I went back and suggested how to fix areas that were holding them back, they came back to me with a complete understanding of the task, and went well beyond a standard quick fix. That’s how I knew we’d live happily ever after as Agent and Author, but I wouldn’t have had that confidence if they didn’t send me their revision. Likewise, they wouldn’t have chosen me as their agent if they didn’t agree with my suggestions, or understand that I had their projects’ best interests in mind.

I understand that some writers are not going to agree with my revision suggestions, and this is always sad for me because I wouldn’t have taken the time to make those suggestions unless I was serious about the project. But, agents get rejected all the time – just like writers. Rejection is the largest part of this business, and I hope that just because I’ve shown interest in a project doesn’t mean the writer feels compelled to do whatever I say. They have every right to reject me. Plus, I wouldn’t want a client who sends me work knowing I’ll just tell them how to “fix” it. To me, that just means they didn’t write what they’re passionate about in the first place. Yes, I’m an editorially hands-on agent, but I have no interest in being someone’s beta reader. I want someone to send me something they are proud of, something they think is finished, but who is also willing to see a larger “business side” of the project when that time comes, and revise with that in mind.

Writers shouldn’t be dismayed over revision requests. They can either do them or not do them, but it’s usually in their best interest to consider the agent’s perspective. Revision requests aren’t our sadistic way of giving writers the runaround. Revisions are a part of writing, and requests should be viewed as extensions of the query process. We all want the same thing, and that’s to see your book published.