The Fault in Our Stars and "Transcending" YA

Let me tell you a story about The Fault in our Stars by John Green.

When I was 11 years old, my brother was diagnosed with bone cancer. A tumor grew on his spine, pressing on his spinal cord and paralyzing him. The next year and a half, my little family went through hell. It was me, Mom, and Matt, and there were 39 blood transfusions, 31 surgeries, 16 rounds of chemotherapy, 25 rounds of radiation, which fried his throat to the point he couldn't eat, and had to have a feeding tube installed (the doctors let him starve for a few months first, the bastards), and he died once on the operating table to be resuscitated with paddles. It's nothing short of a miracle that he's still alive.

So naturally, when I head about TFioS, I had to read it.

If you haven't heard of it, (or perhaps are blind, deaf and without internet, in which case, how are you reading this?) it's a story of a young girl named Hazel Lancaster, who has terminal cancer. The tumors are lodged in her lungs, though she's been granted a few extra years thank to an experimental drug. In a support group for cancer patients, Hazel meets Augustus Waters, a boy who lost his leg to cancer. In essence, the plot seems trite: girl meets boy, girl doomed to die, and together they fall in love, discover truths about life, dying, and being remembered, and set out to meet the author of their favorite book.

It was hard to read, but also freeing. Through Hazel, I saw things as my 15-year-old brother must have as he spent month after month dying in the hospital. More than that, Hazel let me glimpse something I never had before: how my mom must have felt. I started to understand what it must've been like to have a child with cancer, instead of a sibling.

After I read the book, I wasn't quite sure how to put my feelings into words. Stars has amazing crossover potential, but it's also firmly rooted in YA, showing off the best parts of the category, and why I devote myself to it. I spent a few days quietly mulling over it before, one evening with my mother, I told her I wanted her to read it.

My mother is not a reader. She reads, but probably one book a year, maybe two. This was the first book I've asked her to read, because I know although I love my books, she doesn't have the same tastes as me. Stars was different, though. I knew she had to read it, partly because it was a cancer book, but also because I thought she needed to read it. As it helped me understand her, I hoped it would help her understand Matt better, and some of the things he experienced.

When I asked her, she said she'd love to, but as I explained the plot of the book, her face drained of color. Before I finished, she was in tears. She said to me, "What are you doing? Are you trying to tell me something?"

I, of course, had no idea what she was talking about.

Then she told me she had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from our year and a half from hell. She won't touch cancer books or movies. Not to say she avoids the subject, but it's certainly something she doesn't often talk about. We talked for a while then, and I learned a few things Stars couldn't teach me, things only my mother knew.

After that, something even more amazing happened: she read the book.

I'd hoped she would be blown away and it would spark a wonderful conversation about our shared experiences. It... did not. After my mother finished the book, she didn't talk about it for weeks, aside from answering, "Oh, it was good," whenever I asked her about it.

This past weekend, my grandparents came down to visit with us, and while we were gathered around the table talking, my mother brought up The Fault in our Stars. She explained the plot to my grandmother, and talked about the book with gusto. I've never seen my mother talk about a book like this. She went on to tell me how she spent that weekend reading and crying her eyes out. Her least favorite scene? The gas station scene. Something very similar almost killed my brother once, too.

Then, like watching some inspirational film, my mother said, "I think you should read it."

And my ADHD grandmother, whose worse for reading than my mother, said, "Okay," and took the book home with her.

Green's book is powerful. It's life-changing. More importantly, it's a good story. Shortly after reading, I saw a review of TFioS, in which the author wrote: "The book is being pitched as Green’s breakthrough out of the young-adult ghetto and to a wider audience..."

The insult aside, this review got me thinking. When the book was released, a lot of people were talking about its crossover appeal, as well as saying that it "transcended the YA category." It was better and above anything else in YA. Most of these comments seemed to come from individuals who didn't read YA much, so the bit of prejudice is sad, but not surprising.

After spending my time trying to put my thoughts about this book into words, I felt this story better explains the power of a book like this. Yes, The Fault in our Stars appeals to readers young and old. Does it overshadow our "YA ghetto?" No, just the opposite. Stars illustrates everything good about YA. It opens the category up to people who turned their noses down on us.

Does the Fault in our Stars transcend YA? No, it IS YA, with every awkward bumble, every shy smile, every time Hazel lives life and learns from it. It's a book of firsts and learning the hard way the tragedies of life. Some would like to take TFioS from us, but just because something's good doesn't mean it's no longer children's fiction.

TFioS is a universal story. It's a tale with powerful emotions behind it. It comes from the pages and pulls it from the reader. It doesn't turn off certain readers due to particular taste. It's a very plain story at it's base, but the things it addresses are those every human deals with at some point in their life. We all wonder, "What will happen after I die? Will I be remembered?" and though TFioS doesn't have the answers, it makes us feel not so alone in wondering about them.

Walk So Kids Can Talk

So, this past December something pretty amazing happened. I started work at a child and family services facility working with kids with mental health problems, those who've been abused, suffering from sexual exploitation, drug issues, ect. ect. I'm currently working as a temp until the end of June and to say it's been life-changing would be an understatement.

As a teenager, I went through a lot of my own problems. Like every kid, I had my ups and downs, and more than once I relied on places like Kids Help Phone-- a charity organization that ensures kids have 24/7 access to counseling, information, and assistance. Kids Help Phone saves lives. I've seen first-hand the effects these organizations have from both sides of the coin, and it only makes me more determined to support them.

So, this May 6th, 2012, I will be joining the Kids Help Phone 'Walk So Kids Can Talk' to help raise money for youth mental health and well-being. I will be donning my YA Saves t-shirt and representing the young adult community in my walk. I'm planning on making a kickass sign (Just got to figure out how to make "Young adult authors kick serious ass" sound classy.) I plan on raising awareness not just for youth mental health, but I also want to spread the word on YA fiction, because hey, it saves lives too.

So how can YOU HELP?



I need all the help I can get. Feel free to donate here.

Any amount of money is good. Seriously. Pop a penny on that account and watch me hover out of my seat with glee. My goal right now is a humble $100, though I'm determined to raise as much money as possible in the next 32 days. If you can't donate anything, that's okay. You can still help by spreading the word about the fundraising.

As the date rolls closer, there will be more updates. Expect photos as well, when the big day comes around.

As a pre-emptive strike: THANK YOU. Not just for donating, not just for spreading the word, but clicking on my page and reading all the way through. It means a super-duper lot to me.

So, what are you waiting for? Let's get started! Let's raise that first $100! Go! Go! Go!

Teaser Tuesday

A little snippet of Riot I wanted to share, because I really love how this passage portrays Tom, my main character. I'm almost finished with the first draft of Riot, and I can't wait to share it with you guys.

My lips tremble. I wish I could stop crying. I wish I could use duct tape to keep the pieces of me together. “You know, there’s this… situation proposed by this philosopher that Chris told me about. It’s called the trolley dilemma, and it’s trying to explain morality and whatever. So imagine you’re in a train barreling down the tracks. The breaks are busted, and there are five workers about to be run over. You can’t warn them, but you can pull the lever to change the track. There is one worker on the second track further down. So, what do you do? Do you pull the lever and intentionally kill someone, or do nothing and let five people die?”

Dr. Laser blinks, and her brow furrows. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

“That’s been in my head ever since she died, you know? I’ve been trying to find the answer, the right answer, and I keep coming to the same conclusion. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what you do because no matter what someone’s gonna die and their family and friends will suffer forever. Maybe you could lesson the amount of suffering, but can you really measure it like that? No matter your choice—act or don’t, it’s gonna kill someone. There is no right answer.”

I scrub a hand over my face and take a shuddering breath. “There are no right answers anymore.”

Poor Tommy.

Peace,

-Katie

Know your Writing

Whoa. Been a while. *blows dust off blog* How're all my lovelies out in the blogsphere tonight? It's been a while since I've posted anything, but it's not because I haven't been doing anything. I've finished ZAP, my YA steampunk with dragons, and got the crits back from Le Agent. I'm waiting to dive into it, but first up I'm finishing Riot, my YA thriller/sci-fi/I don't know what the hell it is. These two books have soaked up my attention for quite a few months. They're very different, and I've learned a lot from both of them. Mostly about the importance of knowing your novel. It seems like a pretty basic things for writers to do, but I don't think writers are diving deep enough into the story. They don't realize that as the creators of these worlds, writers should know absolutely every detail.

ZAP was a first attempt for me. Not necessarily my first steampunk, but definitely the first time I'd written a book so clean. It was heavily a romance, (new) and had a girl MC, which is often unusual and frightening for me. It's a tale of first love, competition, family, and dragons. There's lots of action, lots of characters.... and a lot of issues.

Riot, on the other hand, is a first person, present tense (new) novel from the POV of a boy growing up in Colorado. There are NO supernatural elements (new) and it's almost contemporary the way it's coming out. (new) It's the night to ZAP's day, dealing in edgy content, mucho death, and some nasty POVs on some touchy issues.

ZAP just came back from the agent with a lot of edits. It's a fun story, but it's not perfect. I spent a total of six months writing, editing, tweaking, and reading over ZAP, and by the time I sent it to Michael, I got a tepid, "I like it, but yeah, no." It can be salvaged, but it will take another whole draft and a hell of a lot of rewriting. The trouble is, I knew something was wrong with the foundation of the story when I was writing, and then editing, I just had no clue how to fix it.

Riot, though it's still being written, is a much more solid book. The characters are stronger. The plot makes more sense. It's all around a better book, and I have confidence it will go far. I haven't had such feelings for a book since I wrote Shell, the book that won me my agent.

So I've been thinking over these last few days: what am I missing? What component do Shell and Riot have that's missing from ZAP? And then it hit me.

With both Shell and Riot, I spent at least two months planning before writing anything. I planned out characters, I planned out the settings, background info, foreground info. I did research, I planned out some of my scenes, I did a bit of outlining. Granted, I did all this with ZAP. What I didn't do with ZAP was acquaint myself 100% with my story.

I didn't know every detail of ZAP's world. I didn't know every little thing about my MC. I knew most of it, but when it comes down to it, most of it doesn't isn't good enough.

As an author, no one knows our books better than ourselves. It's our job as the story's creator to know the world we're building, know the characters-- every little detail.

I couldn't tell you what Charlotte's (ZAP) favorite color is, because I didn't take the time to get to know her, her motivations, her dreams, her passions. I didn't look at where she came from or tried to think of how she reacted to events in her past. What did these events do to her? How has that shaped who she is now?

Whereas Riot? Ask me anything about my main characters. You could ask me what their favorite fish is, and I could tell you. I don't have to know every detail about the boys, but I do have to know them well enough to make an educated guess on what it would be.

So writers, here's my tip: Know your writing. If you think you know everything you can about your book, its characters and its rules, then ask a friend to test you out. Explain your book and have them ask questions. Anything from the functions of your world (How do the people get food? How do they travel?) to what your characters like to do for fun. You should be able to answer pretty much anything they ask you. If you can't-- especially to big, vague questions like "what is your character's biggest dream?" then you have more work to do.

I wrote ZAP when I wasn't certain on it, and it led to big problems. But starting Riot and Shell, I knew what I was writing, and it made the words-- and confidence-- flow a hell of a lot easier.

Peace,

-Katie

Teaser Tuesday: Riot

I want to get caught up on some of my blogging now that ZAP's officially in the agent's hands. (Yay) I figured I'd do a teaser tuesday for Riot, my new WIP, which is YA/adult/thriller/contemporary/dystopian/sci-fi with a bit of cooky animal facts thrown in the midst. Unfortunately, I don't have a professional pitch written. But Riot is the story of how 4 boys go down the wrong path and become "the bad kids."

It being Valentine's Day, I figured I should post something fluffy and romantic, and if you're looking for any of that here, I'm afraid to say you're SOL. Sorry! Guess I'm super unromantic this year. ;)

Here it is, lurkers, your teaser:

Chris waves off the joint and lights himself a cigarette. I close my eyes and listen to a mud dog howl. Its cry is long and sad and lonely. When I open my eyes, Chris twirls his cigarette, then holds it like a pen, the burning tip aimed to his left hand, the unscarred one. Just when I think he’s going to burn himself, he spins the cigarette and takes another drag.

“You know,” Chris says, simple as that, easy as pie. “I think I want to kill my parents.”

I stare at him until he turns to look at me. His face is smooth—no anger, no jest—and his eyes are a clear, watery blue. He looks at me and I look at him and I think, yeah, no one deserves to kill their parents as much as you do, Chris.

Then Chris cracks a smile. The laugh that bubbles out of him is smooth and easy, and I can’t imagine him as the kind of person that would actually hurt anyone. He doesn’t have scars or disfigurements. He’s not hanging out in alleys and beating up kids for extra change. He’s not a monster; he’s just a kid.

Then again, what do I know about monsters?

The Year My Book Didn't Sell

This post is about 2 weeks overdue, but I know you'll all forgive me. ;)

So, some pretty amazing things happened this year, and some pretty amazing things didn't happen. About this time last year, my manuscript Shell scored me an agent, Mr. Michael Carr, whose know-how and agent-ness has helped me through some sketchy, author-related moments of flail.

I think every book, before I started querying, I sat down and said, "This is the one." I believed in every book I submitted to agents. How could I expect an agent to sell my book if I didn't even believe in it? But with Shell, things always seemed a little different. Writing it was different, editing it was different, and I knew when I held the printed off, finished version, that this one was going to get me an agent.

And it did. So why didn't it get me a publisher?

It's easy to focus on getting an agent, but the real fact of the matter is getting an agent is never the endgame. The endgame has always been to sell your book. Getting an agent is an achievement, but it's by no means a guarentee of success. Sometimes the book just doesn't sell.

Sometimes? Let's be real here. Most often, the books don't sell.

So, like many others, I'm kind of drifting through a strange limbo between submission #1 and submission #2. I think once we've come this far, we expect to go all the way. We expect the book to sell once we have an agent, because if one person likes it, why won't everyone else? Part of the problems stems from only hearing the success stories. The book that sold in a week. The book that went to auction. The book that's got a six-figure deal. But 99% of first books don't sell. Most second books don't sell either.

That's not to say that there's anything wrong with your book if it doesn't sell. The great and terrible thing about this industry is it's incredibly subjective and time sensitive. Perhaps your book didn't sell because one too similiar landed on the editor's desk earlier that week. Maybe it didn't sell because the editor doesn't like your vampire/elf crossover. Maybe an editor on the fence about your submission got some bad input from an intern and decided to pass. Whatever the reason, it's not a reflection of you as a writer. Rejection is an unfortunate side-effect of publishing.

I will say, setting aside Shell has been really difficult for me. Rejections are one thing, but shelving a book altogether feels kind of like giving up. I know it's not though. Shell was the first book I've ever written that's graced an editor's desk, but it won't be the last.

I think the most important thing I learned this year was how to let go. Not just when it comes to shelving Shell, but also about letting go of my control over the process. As writers, (unless we're co-writing) we have 100% authority over our world, characters and plot. But as we pursue publishing, slowly that control slips away. With an agent submitting my work, there was no querying to be done, nothing to keep track of, and I didn't have rejections rolling in every other day. I poked Michael every week in the beginning, just for some sort of update on what was going on. Of course, all he could ever provide me with was, "Nothing yet."

2011 was the year my book didn't sell, but I'm letting that go too. It's hard because it almost feels like accepting defeat, but it's anything but. I'm letting go of Shell, I'm letting go of 2011, and I'm letting go of my control-freakishness. I'm doing all this so I can start 2012 right-- by looking towards the future and writing new things.

Maybe 2012 will be the year my book DOES sell.

Peace,

-Katie

IRL Fairy Tale.

So, I promised you guys my news! And as promised, here it is:

MY PARENTS GOT ENGAGED!!!!

I know some of you may be scratching your heads and asking, "Katie, how old are you again?" Trust me when I say this has been a long time coming, and I couldn't be happier about it.



Le happy family: My older brother Matt, The happy couple, my mom Tracy and James, and me, with my terrible haircut.

James met my mother about 12 years ago now. When he met her, she was a young mother of two, married to my father, and working show homes as a new realtor. He described it to me as, "I knew she was married, but I just thought she was so cute." He would make excuses to come by her show home to talk to her. He had to come up with some pretty good excuses, as her show home was across the city from where he lived. At the time, my mother was in an unhappy relationship, and she felt she needed to get out. That summer, she brought my brother and I to her hometown in BC to think about what she wanted to do with her life. James and my mom fell out of contact.



After the summer, my mother came back to Calgary and filed a divorce with my father. At the same time, James was thinking of moving, and a friend gave him my mother's card. They got back in contact and over the years that followed they became good friends. I remember being about 9-10, and James would come over and play with me. He'd run around in the backyard or wrestle me to the ground or talk to me. They made a strange pair. James was a high school dropout who worked hardwood floors. He had about 9 piercings in his face, and was covered in tattoos. My mom was a single mother of two children living in suburbia.



5 1/2 years ago, James and my mom started dating. Want to know how I found out? I was in Junior High, sitting in the back seat of my mother's car. James at the time had a DUI (Did I mention he went to prison for 30 days for it? No? James is the bad boy all right.) and couldn't drive. My mother was dropping him off at his house. We pulled up, and before James got out, he leaned over and kissed my mom. My jaw dropped, and I squealed something along the lines of "WTF!" and they explained that they had started dating.




James soon moved into our little house in suburbia. My brother and I were more than accepting. We had known James for years and he'd always been more than respectful to both of us. Unfortunately, James moved in during a difficult time for our family. I was a teenager and my brother was dealing with his own issues. There were a lot of bad times. There were good times too. But through it all he was there. He was more of a dad than my real father. Within two years, he was my dad. He was the one who threatened the boys with a rusty shovel when they came over. He was the one who joked, "I have a shotgun and no one's gonna miss you." He was the one who sat with me when I cried, and came to celebrate my successes. More than that, he was always there for my mom. He respected her, he told her everything, and supported her. He never hesitated to show he loved her, which was way more than my own father ever did.



My mom had never really been lucky in love. Her husband had cheated on her, she didn't get the big wedding or a fancy proposal. In fact, she didn't get any proposal. My father turned to her and said, "Hey, your family's going to be in town next month. Why don't we surprise them with a wedding?" My mother was a lot like me in her younger days, and kept quiet and accepted that her husband would never appreciate her with flowers or surprises, never help her with her kids, and would go out and cheat on her. The divorce was probably the best thing she ever did.



For the last few years, James has been studying to get his high school degree so he can get a better job. The hardwood job was hard on his body, but also hard on his relationship. Working late into the evening left my mother lonely, and he wanted to come home to her. Everyone (note: me) said they should get married. James had never believed in marriage, and never wanted to be one of those "sheep" that lives in suburbia, with a white picket fence and mows his lawn every Saturday. It strikes me as such a YA happy ending. The bad boy and the good girl become friends, deal with their trials and fall in love.



The plan was to wait until after James graduated before they got married. But that would have been another three years. This weekend, while my mother was in California for a real estate conferences, James came to a conclusion. He didn't want to wait. He talked it over with me and my brother. I was ecstatic. He bought the ring, prepared his speech, and I helped him with the details. Like the candles and rose petals and the quotes and the pictures and all that. James's plan was to bring her into her room and just propose. *snort* Boys.



So when James brought my mom home from the airport, he led her up the stairs and brought her into their room. Me, my brother, his girlfriend, and my hetro life partner Kirstie were huddled in the dark living room in silence. ("They home! Quick, everybody play Skyrim!") He got down on one knee, and asked her to marry him.

She said yes!!

James and my mom are the perfect fairy tale. It just goes to show that sometimes true love is right in front of you. That real love is worth the wait.

The best part? I GET TO PLAN A WEDDING!!!