Steph Bowe's Hey! Teenager of the Year

Teaser Tuesday: Sunny at the end of the world

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 16:15:00 +0000

I have this terrible habit of always starting new stories when I am supposed to be working on something else. I figure, though, that I should at least write the scene or chapter down before the inspiration passes in case I someday run out of ideas and have to go back and work on all of my unfinished novels. (Though lack of ideas is never a problem. Time and making myself sit down and actually write are the problems, generally. It's hard to keep up momentum when the outside world has so much stuff to distract me.) I'm not good at just writing notes and then fleshing out scenes - I tend to come up with bits of dialogue, or a character, or something that requires I type out 2000 words. Getting some writing done is wonderful, but not when you are supposed to be writing something else.

This is a little bit from zombie novel that I've written a few thousand words of, and may or may not continue (I have only a vague idea of plot). There are no actual zombies in this section. I love zombie novels, and I want to write a zombie novel. Also, the more you look at the word zombie the stranger it seems. The narrator of this part is named Toby, and Toby is not really a very good zombie hunter, and it's quite unfortunate he's on his own with a baby during the apocalypse. There's another protagonist, named Sunny, who may or may not be zombified. It's like a zombie love story. It's like an awkward teenage romance with the end of the world as the setting. And a baby thrown in. It's really fantastic in my head. I hope you like this and you will tell me what you think.

--

Dear Ronnie,

What does one wear to the end of the world? You wore a yellow jumpsuit. A very versatile garment, the all-in-one. Put it on and bam! Ready to rock. I’m not sure why it hasn’t caught on with the older crowd. Such a shame everyone grows out of it. I wore a purple three-piece suit. Not at the start – at the start I was wearing artfully frayed jeans and a deliberately faded t-shirt and an unbuttoned flannie, standard party wear, but once I realised life as we know it was definitely for sure ending, and that I would probably soon be dead, I figure I needed to die in style. You and me, kid, we’re going out with a bang. But we’ll get to that.

There are a lot of things that need to be explained to you, Ronnie, some of which I don’t even know. A lot of which you won’t be able to understand until you’re older. I’d like to hope that this will all be over in a bit, and we’ll get your family back together, and we’ll go back to being neighbours with not a whole lot of interest in one another.

As it is, I’m kind of your guardian and protector. I know, I’d be let down, too.

I never really expected to become a father this young. I also hoped that perhaps if I were to become a father, I would actually, you know, get laid beforehand. I bet this is how the Virgin Mary felt. I’m the Virgin Toby.

Don’t tell anyone at school, though, because I’ve got a whole lot of elaborate lies going on involving cavorting with various girls who live interstate. I have fake Facebook profiles and everything. It’s very involved, fabricating an exciting love life when you have nothing going on.

Though really I am never be going back to school, so who cares? I doubt zombies mind whether or not girls are interested in me. Zombies want me, I bet. And for my brains, too. Apparently the average age at which people lose their virginity is sixteen and I’m already seventeen, so I think the ship has sailed for me. Especially considering the girl I’m interested in is now a bonafide flesh-eater.

You’ll have to forgive me, Ronnie. I’m terrible with children. This is deeply inappropriate. I won’t let you read this letter till you’re at least sixteen. I’ll tell you how this whole shebang started, first up, and how you and I came to be the Dynamic Duo, fighting zombies, taking names. Though really mostly you cry and I cower.

A baby and a scared teenage boy. We’re probably not going to save the world.

--

This is the story of how we met: I mean, properly.

I heard, across the hall, you crying. I didn’t know it was you, yet, didn’t know your name. I’d seen you a few times before, nodded politely to your parents when we’d run into each other in the hall when I was on my way to school. I didn’t know if you were a boy or a girl, and, to be entirely honest which I figure I might as well be now, it’s not as if I were actually interested in small children. Sorry. So I was standing in my own doorway listening, thinking about zombie babies and the possibility of it being a trap and the idea of a baby being eaten alive and the idea of me being eaten alive and where your parents were. Your twenty-something mum with her hair always in a tight bun, and your older dad with a perpetually crinkled shirt. They mustn’t have had an iron.

Ironing. Christ, who wasted good life hours ironing? Not your parents. My mother, sometimes. Before a date with that boring used-to-be-a-babe accountant.

Your front door was ajar and I ran across the hall and my heart felt as if it were in my throat. Inside, your apartment is a flipped version of mine, except yours is decorated with great consistency. Your parents did a nice job. White carpet and tiles and black countertops and chairs and a lounge suite – that lounge suite looked expensive, it probably took a whole herd of cows to make – and a glass table. Tasteful modern prints in black and white adorned the walls at regular intervals. In my apartment, there is a hodge-podge of different styles and colours, and seven different chairs, and trinkets adorning every surface. In your apartment, with its pristine carpet, I was tempted to kick off my shoes and leave them respectfully at the door, but I did not. Sorry. I figured no one would mind. From there in the entrance hall, I could see the edge of the kitchen up ahead, on my right, and a smear of blood on the edge of a cupboard.

I did not go into the kitchen.

I’m just trying to write this down as it happened. You might never read this, Ronnie.

Instead, I turned left, towards the bedrooms and the screaming. ‘Veronica’ was spelt out in wooden pink letters on your bedroom door. In my apartment, this was my room. The door was open. You were loud. You were in a carrier, the kind you put in the car, which is on the floor. Like you were about to leave.

I have no idea how old you are, but knew you were somewhere between a newborn and a toddler. You don’t seem to be able to speak words. I pick you up, and I have no idea how to hold a baby but I am doing my best.

‘It’s okay, Ronnie,’ I said, patting you on the back and swaying you back and forth and speaking in as calm and soothing a voice as I could muster considering the circumstances. ‘Everything will be all right.’

Stuff I have to share, like cakes with my book on them

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 11:46:00 +0000

This birthday cake belongs to Sam Whitehouse - an amazingly lovely aspiring author - made by her nan, incorporating her favourite books... one of which is mine! It looks very yummy (it's marbled and pink). I met Sam at the 2010 Melbourne Writers Festival and have chatted to her online since, and it's pretty special for somebody I otherwise wouldn't know to have my book cover as part of their awesome 18th birthday cake, they enjoyed my book that much. Happy Birthday, Sam!

File this under cool and unexpected things that happen when you are an author. Seriously, this is adorable. More people should make cakes with my book on them! (Feel free to include lobsters and garden gnomes.) And send me pictures. And cake. (Valentine's Day is coming up, folks. A cake in the image of my book would be a wonderful gift. Well, it would be for me. Cake = love.)

I turned eighteen this week, too, and I'll write another post on adulthood soon, once I have my thoughts on the subject worked out. Eighteen-year-olds seemed very old and self-assured when I was younger, much more than I feel now. Perhaps cake is the answer. (Of course cake is the answer!)

2012 Books I Am Ridiculously Excited For

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 14:31:00 +0000

Queen of the Night by Leanne Hall

This is out in March, from Text Publishing. It's the sequel to This Is Shyness, which was unique and dark and fantastic, and the cover is gorgeous. Plus! Sinister blurb:
The dark is dangerous. So is the past. So are your dreams.

For six months Nia—Wildgirl—has tried to forget Wolfboy, the mysterious boy she spent one night with in Shyness—the boy who said he’d call but didn’t.

Then Wolfboy calls. The things he tells her pull her back to the suburb of Shyness, where the sun doesn’t rise and dreams and reality are difficult to separate. There, Doctor Gregory has seemingly disappeared, the Darkness is changing and Wolfboy’s friend is in trouble. And Nia decides to become Wildgirl once more.

Preloved by Shirley Marr
There's an official-like blurb for this book (check out Goodreads), but I prefer Shirley's description: 'It's a ghost story. It involves past lives. It's about a modern teen girl and a dead teen boy from the 80s. It's more a bad romance, less of a love story. And it's more abnormal than paranormal! Since it references the 80s, it might also have stonewash denim and a Choose Life t shirt in there somewhere too. I hope it's funny and dark and sweet in its own indie way.'

That cover! The eighties! Past lives and dead folks! I am very much looking forward to reading this. I loved Marr's last book, Fury (review here - and author interview!), and I dare say this looks even more awesome. (Shirley has a very cool book review blog called Books on Marrs, too. She rates in Mars Bars!) It's out April 1st, from Walker Books.

The Reluctant Hallelujah by Gabrielle Williams

"But there I go, getting ahead of myself. Skipping straight to the part where I was front-page news and they were calling me Dorothy, instead of starting at the beginning . . ."

When Dodie's parents go missing just as final year exams are about to start, she convinces herself they're fine. But when the least likely boy in class holds the key -- quite literally -- to the huge secret her parents have been hiding all these years, it's up to Dodie, her sister, the guy from school, and two guys she's never met before, to take on the challenge of a lifetime. So now Dodie's driving -- unlicensed -- to Sydney, and being chased by bad guys, the police, and one very handsome good guy.

1. Brilliant cover. 2. How weird and delightful does it sound? The Penguin Between the Lines blog promises: 'A wacky Weekend at Bernie's style roadtrip. A secret body in the basement. Parents missing. Final days of high school. Only Gab Williams could come up with such an imaginative plot like this, that sounds crazy but when you're reading feels normal and natural.' It's coming out February 22.

Blood Storm by Rhiannon Hart
The sequel to Blood Song (which was all kinds of brilliant - Zeraphina is a very cool protagonist), coming in August 2012 from Random House. No cover yet, but here's the blurb:
"The rain wanted to be ocean; the ice in the mountain caps wanted freedom. I never knew that water held such longing. The clouds above my head rumbled like a growling wolf, impatient to release their burden. I held the rain there a moment longer. I turned to Renata, heard her gasp and knew my eyes glowed blue. I spoke a single word. ‘Rain.’

In the Second Book of Lharmell, Zeraphina and Rodden must travel across the sea to find the elusive ingredients that will help them to win the coming battle against the Lharmellin – but shadows from Rodden’s dark past may come back to haunt him. And while she learns to harness her new abilities, Zeraphina still fights the hunger that makes her crave the north – not to mention avoiding her mother, who wants to see her wayward daughter married to a prince at all costs.
I am not usually this inclined to read fantasy novels, but I'm a Rhiannon Hart fan.

Kiss Chasey by Fiona Wood
There isn't a cover or blurb yet for this, and I think this is a working title, too. But I loved Six Impossible Things. I don't know when this is coming out! Lack of information makes me all the more curious. Also I like the title. I like it a lot. Pulchritude is another title I've seen for it. Not as much of a fan of that title.

The Howling Boy by Cath Crowley
'A mystery and a love story, with dual narrators.' Cath Crowley does dual narrators brilliantly (see Graffiti Moon and A Little Wanting Song). No cover yet. I'm waiting, Pan Macmillan.

--

This is a very condensed list. I have a lot more where these came from. What books are you ridiculously excited for this year? Look, I used big font. Do tell.

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 07:31:00 +0000

“Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere.”

I haven't yet read any of Anne Lamott's novels, but I loved Bird by Bird. It promises, on the cover, 'some instructions on writing and life'; it's part-writing advice part-memoir, the two very much interrelated. Her primary advice in this book is to write 'shitty first drafts' - writing a minimum amount every day, always moving forward. It reveals that the struggle of being a writer doesn't ease with publication or success, and focuses on the writing process above the goal of publication. There's a lot more to it than just these pieces of advice; it is also a lovely book to read, a celebration of writing and reading.

You can find this book on Amazon and read more of the many, many reviews on Goodreads. Almost all of them are positive - a lot of them glowing - apart from those negative one that take the this writer is obviously a crazy person tact. I think if you are the kind of writer who doesn't suffer from self-doubt or immense frustration, or who likes to plot their novels before they begin writing, the advice in this book will perhaps not suit you. (Lamott is very self-deprecating and jealous of other writers, though humorously. I think a lot of people, writer or non, are like this, and the vulnerability and rawness she has when writing about her own life make her seem very genuine and endearing.)

She uses a quote from Cool Runnings that I am very much a fan of (I've used it myself in the past, but she used it in relation to writing a long time before I did - this came out the year after my birth): A gold medal is a wonderful thing. But if you’re not enough without one, you’ll never be enough with one. She focuses very much on the writing part over the publishing part. Even though it's seventeen years old (hey! just like me!), it remains relevant - publishing is only mentioned in passing, and the idea of mailing a manuscript out seems somewhat quaint, but this is not at all the focus of the book. The widespread use of the internet is the only other major difference to the experience of writing Lamott expresses in the book - now, the process of researching a novel is much faster, and perhaps dehumanised. Lamott writes about calling a nursery up to ask what flowers would bloom in a particular place at a particular time of year, whereas a simple Google could solve all plot problems today.

I found it very reassuring and the 'shitty first drafts' tip awfully helpful. It's beautifully written, if at times excessively wordy (and obviously a bit self-indulgent, but I think that occurs in all memoirs), so even if blindly stumbling forward isn't your writing style (or even if you are just a passionate reader), it's still an enjoyable read. Here are some lovely quotes from the book, if you aren't yet convinced to pick it up:

“For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die.”

“You are lucky to be one of those people who wishes to build sand castles with words, who is willing to create a place where your imagination can wander. We build this place with the sand of memories; these castles are our memories and inventiveness made tangible. So part of us believes that when the tide starts coming in, we won't really have lost anything, because actually only a symbol of it was there in the sand. Another part of us thinks we'll figure out a way to divert the ocean. This is what separates artists from ordinary people: the belief, deep in our hearts, that if we build our castles well enough, somehow the ocean won't wash them away. I think this is a wonderful kind of person to be.”

“E.L. Doctorow said once said that 'Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.' You don't have to see where you're going, you don't have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way. You just have to see two or three feet ahead of you. This is right up there with the best advice on writing, or life, I have ever heard.”

“I know some very great writers, writers you love who write beautifully and have made a great deal of money, and not one of them sits down routinely feeling wildly enthusiastic and confident. Not one of them writes elegant first drafts. All right, one of them does, but we do not like her very much. We do not think that she has a rich inner life or that God likes her or can even stand her. (Although when I mentioned this to my priest friend Tom, he said that you can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.)”

“Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored. We are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. It's like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. You can't stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship.”

How To Get A Book Deal When You're Fifteen

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 05:16:00 +0000

There is this overwhelming focus amongst a lot of writers of children's and young adult fiction (and definitely writers across other genres, too, but this is what I'm familiar with) on publication, and on producing large volumes of work quickly. I don't know whether this phenomenon can be blamed upon NaNoWriMo, or the demands of young readers (a book a year, a massive series), or the nature of society today.

There is a sort of rabid desperation that some unpublished writers have to become an author, to 'make it', to get a book deal. And when I say 'some', I mean the vast majority of unpublished writers I've known. The elaborate fantasy of 'when I am published'. The resentment of already successful writers, and the idolisation of agents and editors.

I remember being like this myself. I remember the unfailing belief that something would shift within me upon receiving external validation. I remember the belief that publication would be this all powerful thing, that published writers were somehow different from unpublished writers.

And this is what drove me to devour every single little detail about the publishing world I could get my hands on. This is what drove me to write like a crazy person. I'm not sure I would've worked has hard as I did, would've blogged on a daily basis, would've read and read and read about the publishing industry if I knew how it would feel to be an author.

This is what publication day feels like: not much, really.

There are plenty of wonderful experiences someone with a newly released book can have: speaking at festivals, speaking at schools, signing books, going into a shop and seeing their book on the shelf, hearing that a reader loves your book.

There are also a lot of less-than-wonderful experiences you make yourself vulnerable to: bad reviews and criticism, a great deal of stress over the first book not doing well enough or the second book not finding a publisher or not measuring up to others expectations, a possibly painful editorial process.

And this is the part where unpublished writers desperate to publication want to hear: but it's all worth it! Writing is painful but publication is brilliant!

The truth is, the real joy of being a writer is in the writing. Maybe for some people it is in promoting the book but I think those people are just in the wrong industry. The idea that traditional publication should be the goal of all writers is an incorrect one. Writing has value (to both the writer and their readers) irrespective of whether it is traditionally published.

Here's how I think it works:

If your only goal is publication, you may very well become published, but you probably won't be a particularly good writer. You will perhaps just be a commercially viable writer. And maybe that's what you want, and that's an okay thing to want. The odds of you making decent money out of this writing business are not great, but go for it.

If your goal, instead, is based around the actual writing - trying to create a story other people will enjoy, or you will enjoy, or just writing for self-expression or because you were inspired or because, pretty much, you live to write - then you may or may not get published. Maybe there is enough value in writing because it helps you to deal with the world without having to share it with other people commercially. Maybe you will write a lot of novels before you create something that deserves to be shared with others. Maybe through writing a story that is real and true and genuine for yourself, you'll create something other people will love.

Yes, publication has its upsides: finding out an agent or publisher loves your book enough to publish it is a wonderful feeling; hearing someone loved your book is brilliant; someone being inspired by you is great. Money is also nice. But these pleasures are very fleeting compared to the joy and growth and knowledge you will find in actually writing a novel. Publication will complicate your relationship with your writing a lot. You don't have to rush into it. It's not the best field if you need money immediately, either.

I don't understand why some people continue to look down upon those who self-publish, because really, everyone has different ambitions with their writing. For some people, having control over their work and sharing it online is a viable option, and one that can bring them joy and financial gain.

There is no magical key to becoming traditionally published, and even if there was, you wouldn't want it. This is not to stop you from pursuing publication. This is to remind you not to put the cart before the horse. This is to remind you to enjoy every stage of the writing process if your goal is publication, and that writing is wonderful irrespective of whether you get published.

My goal as a writer is to become the best writer I can and make sense of my world. And I hope that as long as I am writing, I'll have the opportunity to share that with other people, and entertain them. Publication and money are wonderful, but I don't mind getting a day job. If I only get one life, I don't want to spend the entire time writing in my room, after all.

I think publishers choosing books that are 'commercially viable' is a load of rubbish, since those books often tend to be generic and lame Twilight-derivatives, but that's another thing altogether. I suppose people need to make money. I'd rather try and write amazing stories. I certainly prefer to read them.

Give up on the 'when I am published' fantasy, if you have one (It's really quite a lot like the 'when I am thin' fantasy - you will not transform into someone else). Probably focusing on publication at the expense of writing is a bad idea. Reading every piece of advice everyone has ever doled out about anything related to the publishing industry is really not the key (beyond the basics of what to put in a query and how to be respectful to agents and publishers, of course).

Even once you are published, you will still be a work-in-progress as a writer. You always will be. And that is a wonderful thing. Getting published when you are still a kid doesn't really count for a lot (people will just be ferociously resentful or vaguely impressed), but it's a perfectly fine thing to aspire to. Being a great writer does not have to be your central goal at the expense of all others, but I think it's a good one. I want to write books people will love and cry and laugh over. Publication and cash money will always be secondary to that.

Feel free to burn me alive if I sell out and start writing misogynistic vampire romances.

And if you remain curious, here are the things that I think are vital if you really, really want to be a traditionally published writer:

A bit of inspiration
A lot of motivation and hard work
The encouragement and feedback of other writers
Knowledge of your genre and the industry
Enough bravery to send your work out and risk rejection, as well as patience and a thick skin
A very significant portion of right-person, right-place, right-time luck.
The slightest bit of insanity

I think that's about it.

Thoughts on writing for publication, what motivates you as a writer, and commercial viability are very much appreciated.

A Little Wanting Song by Cath Crowley & The Lucky Ones by Tohby Riddle

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 11:43:00 +0000

I am not doing well at this blogging-twice-a-week goal. This is mainly because I start writing something and then I get distracted thinking about how absurd human existence is and vow to become a terrific anarchist and philosopher and change the world, and then I realise that I am actually seventeen and none of my thoughts are particularly revolutionary and that I love law and order, and also Law and Order: SVU. I have, however, been managing to fit in some reading. These are their stories.

A Little Wanting Song by Cath Crowley

Charlie Duskin is running. Fleeing from failures and memories of friends who have given up on her. And she’s not only running, she’s chasing things – like a father who will talk to her, friends who don’t think she’s invisible.

But Charlie Duskin is about to have the best summer of her life. She’s about to meet a friend who’ll change her forever. She’s about to fall in love. She just doesn’t know it yet.

Since reading Graffiti Moon (which is glorious and my review is here), Cath Crowley has basically been my personal hero. While I didn't quite adore A Little Wanting Song as much as Graffiti Moon, it was still beautifully written and filled with lovely, lovely characters. I could imagine the small town as being similar to the one in A Straight Line To My Heart, and it felt distinctly Australian.

I did find the alternating voices difficult to distinguish at times (Rosie and Charlie - I liked Charlie a lot more than I liked Rosie, she was sweet and tender and wonderful and I just wanted things to work out for her). I could imagine Luke more clearly than anyone else (I perhaps know an excess of dodgy bogan kids). If by some strange magical curse I had to live in the fictional world imagined by one contemporary Australian YA novelist, it would probably be between Melina Marchetta, Simmone Howell or Cath Crowley. (It could happen! I need to be prepared for all eventualities.)

*(Published as Chasing Charlie Duskin in Australia. I read the US version.)

The Lucky Ones by Tohby Riddle

Set in 1980s inner-city Sydney, The Lucky Ones follows maverick teen Tom as he tries to find his way in the world after school. The novel reveals in poignant and hilarious ways the workings of a young male mind – with all its misplaced romanticism, youthful delusions, bewilderment about girls and need for adventure.

But at the heart of the novel is Tom's close friendship with fellow school leaver Cain, a compelling enigma who becomes increasingly unpredictable as he follows his impulses down a path towards self destruction.

This was published in 2009, and I wanted to read it then because I loved the coaster-as-the-moon and vertical-title cover, but never quite got around it. (I was busy in 2009.) I picked it up recently because it centres around a character who has recently finished school, and hey! so has Steph Bowe! But I am not a teenage boy living in 1980s inner-city Sydney. Unfortunately. (I didn't know it was set in the 80s when I read it. I thought they were just being cool with the cassette players.)

The blurb above (from the author's website) is a lot different to the one on the back cover of the book (which implies a lot more action than it delivers) - just a few sentences, so I started reading knowing basically nothing. It's very atmospheric, slowly paced, and though things happen they are not dealt with in the typical dramatic manner of YA novels - Tom is an interesting narrator, and I enjoyed the writing style, but it's all very subdued and reflective. I'm surprised this hasn't been labelled as young-adult/adult crossover or straight-up literary fiction. Lots of lovely moments (I loved the mixtapes and his friendship with Cain) and ponderings. I think it reflects the weird space between finishing school and the rest of life wonderfully.

Happy New Year! & Writerly Resolutions!

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 08:21:00 +0000

It's a new year! How 'bout that. I hope you all have a most wonderful 2012...

2011 was a good year - though not a super-productive year on the writerly front (15-year-old me in 2009 pretty much had the best year ever, really), I finished high school and moved from Melbourne to the Gold Coast, both fairly major. Book Two is still in the works. I became a whole lot less shy and a much better public speaker last year, but I still really do not like parties. I have big! fabulous! plans for 2012. And I hope you do, too.

Various Writerly New Year's Resolutions:
(because if I put them on the internet I must be held accountable! Unless the world ends this year. In which case I hope you all have a wonderful end of the world!)

1. Finish revising That Book That I Still Need To Revise.
I'm in fifth draft territory, and I'm hoping to have this done in the next month or so. This is a big goal, even though it'll only hopefully take a small part of the year, because this book has been killing me slowly for about two years now. But if I can finish it and make it great then I can pretty much do anything. Or I can at least do the same thing again.

2. Finish the first and second drafts of three other manuscripts.
I have multiple unfinished manuscripts on the go, and now I've finished school, I have no excuse not to finish them. I would very much like to finish first drafts of all three, and because my first drafts can be a mess (a hilarious, self-indulgent mess, mind you) wrap up a second draft that can hopefully be read by other people, too.

3. Answer my email and blog twice a week.
I tend to find myself either a) spending ridiculous amounts of time on the internet very ineffectively, obsessively refreshing my inbox and watching videos of various cute fluffy animals; or b) pretending the internet doesn't exist for weeks at a time, allowing email to pile up to terrifying unanswerable proportions and not blogging. This year, I'm hoping to spend less time on the internet but do more, and blog on a more regular basis.

I was considering a fourth resolutions to do with reading (people with goals like 'read 366 books in 2012' astound and kind of frighten me) but I tend to find myself reading, if anything, too much (I probably read about thirty books in the last fortnight of the year to make up for not reading a whole lot through the year). I'd like to read more widely this year, though. Quit reading just contemporary YA (I also read way too many books about precocious sociopathic teenage boys. Are there a lot of these books around? Or am I just weirdly drawn to them?).

I've got a bunch more goals for the year: I'd like to learn guitar, get better at photography, plan some travel, and learn to drive. This time next year I'll probably have the same goals and will be bemoaning the fact that the year went by so fast, but for the moment I am hopeful! 2012 stretches out in front of me like a great, unknown land! A land of awesomeness! (I will be turning eighteen in less than a month! I'm holidaying to Sydney this January! UNTOLD ADVENTURES AWAIT. You can tell I'm excited. I'm using all caps.)

Okay. If you, too, have ridiculous ambitions for the promising year ahead, I have absolute faith that you can achieve them: Share with me your New Year's resolutions! (I'll start sending positive, goal-achieving thoughts your way.)

The Writing Process (or From Crazy Notebooks to Draft): Guest post by Sue Lawson

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 06:07:00 +0000

Here's a guest post from Sue Lawson about her novel planning process, as part of the blog tour for her new novel, Pan's Whisper.

--

Thanks so much for inviting me to visit Hey! Teenager of The Year, on the Pan’s Whisper Blog Tour. I read your blog regularly, Steph, and love it (as I do Girl Saves Boy).

Writers all approach the process of writing differently, so I thought it would be good to explore how I write and how it has changed since I wrote my first book.

Each book I’ve written has been an adventure with differing challenges and successes, but the one thing that is constant is that with each book I’ve learnt so much about writing and about myself. The exciting thing about being a writer is there is so much more to learn.

My writing process has changed dramatically since I finished my first book, Dragon’s Tear, in 2003. I used to be what I heard John Marsden describe as a ‘brick layer’ where I’d write a few pages, stop, edit and write a few more before stopping and editing again. Talk about a stilted process!

My lack of confidence contributed to that stop and start process, plus the inability to turn off my internal editor (Boy is he loud! – and yes strangely, it is a male voice – go figure!). While I still am wracked with doubt as I write, I’ve now forced myself to either ignore the internal editor until I’m ready to polish, or if all else fails, I yell at him. True! ‘Just write, edit later’ is my writing mantra.

Generally I write from start to end, but when I’m writing more than one point of view, as I did with Pan’s Whisper, I complete one character’s point of view before starting on the next. This way I find I avoid the problem of the two voices being too alike. When I was writing Pan’s story, I’d add notes at the end of a chapter about Morgan’s piece. I write each character’s story in a different document and merge them when I’ve done a first edit on both.

I type my first drafts, though if I am having trouble finding with a scene or piece of dialogue, I pull out my trusty notebook and write by hand (with a Kilometric or Ball Pental, extra fine – I have pen issues!) until the piece feels right.

I guess where I differ from most writers in the planning. I’m an over the top planner, mainly as I find the better I knew my characters and the setting, the story flows more smoothly as I write. Each time I start a new manuscript, I buy a new notebook – nothing flash – spiral bound, plastic covered, stripes, pink, plain – and do all of my planning in this book. The science behind my notebooks isn’t impressive. It started because I’m disorganised and lose stuff. All the time! So my theory is, if I keep everything in the one book, I won’t misplace anything. At least that’s the theory!

In my notebooks I plot my story, take research notes, develop characters and even put together the character’s homes. I raid magazines, newspapers, websites, blogs, tumblr and other places for snippets that suit my characters and settings. When I was writing Dare You, I created character collages as well as writing character profiles. Not only was it fun, but it helped me nail those characters. Since then collages have become part of my planning routine.

When I was writing Pan’s Whisper, I trawled through endless real estate pages to piece together the McMinn’s home. I discovered the perfect façade for Pandora’s last home around the corner from my place when I was on a morning walk.

I revisit my notebook throughout the writing and editing process, adding bits of information, fleshing out characters and re-designing the setting.

My blog tour continues on Monday when I visit the amazing Michael at http://littleelfman.blogspot.com/

Pan's Whisper on the publisher's website

On teenagerdom, friendship & why loneliness is okay

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 03:10:00 +0000

You can file "Your teenage years are the best of your life!" under Things I Never Want To Hear Anyone Say Ever Again. Let's pretend for a moment that your teenage years really were the best of your life and you're not just being nostalgic. You should still stop saying it. This is because everyone's life experiences are very, very different. You can say "My teenage years were the best of my life". That's okay. Don't make grandiose statements that imply that adulthood is a living hell because it tends to make young people not want to go there.

And also, what the heck, do you actually remember being a teenager or what? Did they not have this thing called 'social awkwardness' in your youth? Do you not remember having no freaking idea of who you were or what you wanted in life? Do you not remember feeling like a freak or being a treated like a freak or everyone around you seeming like freaks? Do you not remember your weird formative friendships? Maybe as time has passed you've read YA novels and watched John Hughes movies and looked at photos of your smiling younger self and created a version of your youth where life is like a music video.

I think it's wonderful that you had fun as a teenager. But you should probably be enjoying the rest of your life - and the one you're living currently - as well. Because the things that happen when you are fifteen and sixteen and seventeen are generally not the be-all and end-all of your existence. The people you're close with as child and teenager have a lot of impact on you as an adult, but not having a super-tight group of friends with whom to make your carefree youthful memories does not mean you're doing the whole 'bein' a yoof' thing wrong.

I'm never going to be a person who goes out for cocktails with The Girls. I wouldn't be any of the characters from Sex in the City. The fictional character I most relate to is Chuckie from Rugrats. I don't have a particular group of friends, but I'm friends with lots of individuals - and I think that contributes to me as a person more than being friends with one group of homogenous people (and let's be honest: people in small friendship groups, especially as teenagers, tend to dress and behave ridiculously alike, and it's sometimes a bit weird). You don't need to retain the same group of friends from high school into adulthood. People change. The idea of a 'bestie' (what is this? Do people seriously isolate one of their friends as 'the best'? Humans are strange.) is socially constructed. It's okay to be closer to your family than to your friends.

There's this whole idea of what it is to be a teenager - that you have to go out every Friday and Saturday evening or you are a failure, that you must have a tight-knit group of friends with whom you will keep contact forever and ever, that you must rebel and hate your parents and that there's something wrong with you if you don't do the things other people do (Oh! The number of times I have been told how much of a freak I am for not drinking! I care about my internal organs, folks). Everyone has their own version of this, and it's stupid and you should forget about it.

And this makes it harder for people to figure out who they are and what they want. Because the media and advertising and older people and the cumulative force of their friends' opinions are saying: 'This is what you should be. This is what you have to buy. This is what you have to do.' (A lot of people seem to be under the impression that buying things will transform you into a perfect human being. Which is what the companies selling stuff want you to think.)

And you say, but Steph! The characters in your book have tight-knit groups of friends! They are rebellious teenagers! And I say, it's a book, guys. Books about one kid being awesome on her lonesome are kind of difficult to sustain for 300 pages (look out for my next book Stephanie Bowe: Legend* next summer**).*** And YA books and movies for teenagers exaggerate and simplify (generally speaking, there are exceptions) all the good and bad aspects of being young ridiculously, and that's what makes them entertaining.

Being on your own helps you figure out who you are. Loneliness helps you along your path to being a tortured artist. It's okay not to find a group of people, or individuals, who you really connect with - they probably just don't go to your high school or live in your suburb. The world's a big place. It's not worth compromising yourself to fit in or have a traditional teenage experience. This is your life, and you get one go at it, and I don't know about you, but I don't think it's really worth doing things just because everyone else does. (And you will find that 'everyone else' is never everyone. It's usually just some people.)

If dressing like a Kardashian and being a foolish youngster is what you truly want to do, go right ahead! Just don't judge other people for living differently to you.

Let's dance and be friends and never become people who say "My teenage years were the best of my life!" because our entire lives will be awesome.

I'm going to write actual posts about reading and writing, soon! Get excited. (Moving house and rewriting a book is distracting and time-consuming, obviously.)

*Actual title of a speech I made for Toastmasters in Grade Six. I kid you not.
**Kidding. I'm working on another book, though, that will be a whole lot better.****
***I really love asterisks if you can't tell.
****Stephanie Bowe: Legend would just be: Steph paces the room. Steph thinks about some stuff. Steph eats a lamington. (It's a psychological thriller.)

I want to know:

Are you still friends with or do you plan to stay friends with the people you knew in school?
Were/are your teenage years the greatest? Of all time?
Which Rugrats character are you? (This is the most serious question.)

I have too many questions, I know.

Self-doubt: It's like the least fun thing ever

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 02:10:00 +0000

I have not blogged properly in such a long while that this makes no sense to me anymore. Sometimes when you look at things too closely it's all very weird, isn't it? Like, what is this blogging thing? Why do people like to read what I write? Do people like to read what I write? How strange it is to write to all of these people I do not know as if I know what they like. And the internet, gosh, what a bizarre beast it is. My desire to broadcast my thoughts into the ether has lessened considerably over the past year or so, hence the lack of posts and reviews and general internet activity. So I am feeling somewhat doubtful of my blogging abilities.

At the moment I am looking at the word doubt very closely, and I am thinking, what is up with that b? Really, nothing makes any sense.

I have this whole blog post/motivational speech composed in my head - maybe not the exact words, but I've got the vibe of the thing - but every time I try and write it, it doesn't come out quite right. I'm finding the same thing with my writing lately, too, but I'm just blindly stumbling ahead and trying to fix things when I go back (something I'm undertaking at the moment with a third round of rewriting of book two.)

I have to say, this entire self-doubt thing seems the most pointless ever. There are plenty of negative emotions I can see some value in - for example, jealousy can be motivating - but self-doubt is not one of them. It doesn't listen to reason ('But I know I'm not the worst writer alive. Some people like the stuff I write!'). It doesn't motivate me at all. It just stops me from doing things because I won't do them well.

Something that occurred to me the other day, is that when someone tells me how much doubt they have in themselves, it makes absolutely no sense to me. Whether I think they're awesome or not isn't even relevant (though I do know a lot of people who are awesome) - other people believing in you doesn't automatically mean that you have faith in yourself, and even people who seem really ridiculously successful and fearless and talented still grapple with this.

Which is kind of depressing: it would be nice to believe that you will someday reach a point at which outside circumstance will mean you will have unending belief in yourself. Like, you will someday have a NYT bestseller and never again will you sit down to write and get the overpowering sense that nothing you write is really good enough. Because, hey! Other people think you're great, therefore you are great, therefore you think you're great!

When I was younger, I built up in my head many ideals of what it would be to be an author, what I would be like. This was my main goal in life, and not knowing any writers firsthand, writers were godlike in my mind. When I was a writer, I would be sophisticated and mature and I would have unfailing confidence in myself as a writer and as a human being. I would walk around all the time, smug with the knowledge that I was a capital-W Writer. I would wear scarves and look terribly chic.

Yeah, the scarf thing never really worked out. Nor the rest of it.

And then of course I met lots of authors and discovered that they, too, were actual human beings. And that even the ones I believed to be the greatest writers ever to walk the earth thought that they were terrible at least some of the time. And that a lot of them can't bear to read their finished novels.

As bizarre as it is to think that the people you believe are amazing do not believe the same of themselves, it's reassuring. I think it's important that people are honest about things like this - I mean, I'd love to delude myself and pretend I am super-productive and super-confident, but this is not the case. I find self-doubt to be absolutely crippling on a daily basis. But I keep reminding myself of how many worse things people are going through than struggling to write that next novel.

There is no easy, five-step process to self-belief. Or at least the quashing of the voice that says, 'Hey! Give up this writing thing! Other people are doing it way better than you ever will!' Which is unfortunate. I would like to be able to cast a spell upon everybody that would make self-doubt disappear and allow us all to be far more productive and fun to be around. At least the knowledge that everyone is going through this makes it easier to deal with the ongoing curse of the writer.

This is not as motivational as I had hoped. I think maybe I should just make a poster of me, with a speech bubble saying 'Steph Bowe believes in you!' and you can print it out? (Gosh, I am such a creative mind.)

Anyway, how do you deal with self-doubt? (Specifically that applying to writing?) Ignore it? Remind yourself of your awesome? Talk to other people about being a tortured artist?

The stories I love the best are the most ridiculous ones

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Sun, 27 Nov 2011 18:01:00 +0000

I like stories where people are always in comas or becoming amnesiacs or dying and then coming back to life and endings where it turns out it was all just in the narrator's head. I like time travel and alternate universes and I don't even mind if it isn't consistent or doesn't make sense (though it is preferable). I like 'it was all just a dream' endings and melodramatic characters and split personalities and axe murderers. I'm not talking stories that are borderline ridiculous here, I'm talking all-out preposterous soap-opera-worthy novels. I want things to blow up that logically wouldn't. I want someone to inexplicably develop the ability to read minds.

This is a terrible thing to admit to and will probably forever damage your opinion of me. But gosh, folks, aren't crazy stories a lot of fun? I try and write at least semi-realistic stuff, but only through a lot of effort. I mean, I really want to throw in a mind-reader and aliens and amnesia, but I'd rather write well. When it comes to what I read and watch and so forth, though, much as I love those literary novels about first-world problems, I don't have a whole lot of desire to read novels that are super-realistic because life is super-realistic and really, no novel is going to be as vivid as real life. Also realistic stories are always more depressing than ridiculous ones. (Okay, a little realism is nice. And good writing is always excellent. But when it comes to escapism I think you really need crazy-weird plotlines.)

Does everyone secretly love really preposterous novels and TV shows and movies? Or are you all cultured ladies and gents who watch art-house films and read literary fiction and have never seen a soap opera in your life?

5 Tips for Writing What You (Don’t) Know

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Sun, 13 Nov 2011 13:59:00 +0000

Another guest post I wrote in the past (the internet. It's like a time machine) - this time from The Blog Realm in September 2009.

--

Always, when I stumble across writing advice on the internet, I see the same line: Write What You Know.

The issue for me is that I’m fifteen, and I don't know much at all. Until three years ago, I was a member of the Beanie Kids fan club. I still order off the kids menu at restaurants. I shop in the Junior section of clothes stores (though I am clinging to my childhood a lot more than other people my age). I write realistic teen fiction. Sometimes I write about things I haven’t experienced, or decide to base a novel around something I know nothing about (much research is involved). I’ve written three novels, and I’ll hopefully write many more. My writing is a place where I can get out of my comfort zone.

What I want to say is this: you don’t have to have experienced what you write. Many successful crime thrillers were written by people who were never policemen. J.K. Rowling didn’t go to Hogwarts, and Stephenie Meyer didn’t date a sparkly vampire (no matter how much she may wish she had).. Sure, the rules are different in fantasy, but what makes them ultimately successful is the writing, the characters and plot, the emotional appeal of it all. Here are some things to keep in mind when you’re writing about something that’s completely foreign to you:

1. Research, research, research. Create a file on your computer and browse the internet. The library is also an incredibly useful resource. If the story is busting to come out, don’t tell yourself you have to research everything first. You can research as you go. And don’t research for months on end – the actual writing is the important bit. You’ll know when you have enough information, and it’s worth getting a good book on your preferred topic so that you can look something up when you’re stuck on the novel instead of getting distracted on the internet by your emails and Twitter (I am guilty of tweeting instead of writing. I confess!)

2. If possible, get someone knowledgeable to read your book. Just as important as your beta-readers! Get a doctor friend to read your medical thriller, or a lawyer to read your courtroom drama. It’s even better if you can call up these people as you write, so that when you think you’re completely off track, they can reassure you (and even if you are writing about something you know, a friend to call and talk to when you get stuck, or think you’re terrible, is definitely a must for most writers. In general, we doubt ourselves a lot).

3. Don’t forget about your characters and plot! You can’t support a novel on a theme alone, and way too often I’ve read teen books with little substance – it’s just a book about [insert pertinent issue to teens here]. First and foremost, write a novel that will satisfy readers. (I find it best to imagine myself as the reader, and try and be objective about it.)

4. Make sure there’s emotional pull. You’ve decided to write a story about a mother dying of breast cancer. You haven’t personally known any cancer sufferers, but you know a doctor whose willing to fact check for you, and you’ve done all the research.. The most important thing here is that your novel doesn’t fall flat when it comes to emotion – you don’t have to have experienced that to know the emotions it would evoke, and these should be central to your novel (mainly character-driven novels). The way a novel makes me feel determines whether or not I enjoy it – it doesn’t matter if that emotion is sadness or happiness, it just has to be strong.

5. Above all else, tell a great story. Kind of revisiting 3 and 4 here, but it should be repeated: tell the story you want to tell, with characters that demand to be written. Don’t think about whether it will fit in the market, or whether you should put it off until the economy improves. If you have that passion, and if you have that drive, write your novel, and make it the best it can possibly be. Good luck!

Writing Bootcamp: Writer’s Bootcamp: Why You Should Celebrate Your Rejection Letter by Holly Schindler

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 07:04:00 +0000

Writing Bootcamp is a blog series in which I invite fabulous authors to share with you (yes, you! assuming you are an inquisitive writer) their best bits of writerly advice. Today Holly Schindler talks about the good things about getting rejected.

--

Every writer faces rejection—at every stage of his or her career. And while it’s easy to focus merely on the “no,” the most important thing a writer can do is remind him or herself about all the wonderful things that a rejection actually implies and provides:

1). You have the guts to submit. I’ve heard writers described repeatedly as a shy bunch. Not so, I’d argue. It takes guts to put yourself on the page and to send that work—which feels so personal and private—out to be critiqued, possibly passed over for other work. If you’re submitting, you have courage—every bit as much as someone who gets up on a stage to perform. Period.

2). If you’re getting any kind of personal letter at all, it means that the editor or agent saw something quite positive and promising in your work. Keep at it.

3). If you submitted a book, rather than just a query, don’t simply concentrate on the fact that your book was passed over. Remind yourself that the book was read—which means that you’ve got a stand-out query! That in itself is quite an accomplishment. If one editor or agent found that query promising, another will, too. Believe that you’ll receive another request for the manuscript in full.

4). If you’ve received a rejection with a detailed critique and an invitation to resubmit, you’re lucky in many different ways. Sure, you’ve got an editor or agent who’s seriously interested and invested at this point. Just as importantly, though, you’ve not got the chance to test your revision skills.

Even after a book is acquired, it most often undergoes one or more rounds of revision—global revision, that is—before the copyedits start. And nothing prepared me for this process more than all the rounds of rejection and revision I endured before I sold my first book.

Rejection, in many ways, isn’t just a means to an end. It isn’t something a writer endures in order to finally snag that first yes. Rejection is itself a kind of college…and the lessons you learn during the rejection process will serve you, time and again, in your career as an author.

--

Holly Schindler is the author of YA novels A BLUE SO DARK & PLAYING HURT, as well as a middle grade novel, THE JUNCTION OF SUNSHINE AND LUCKY. You can follow her on Twitter (@holly_schindler), Facebook, her lovely blog & hollyschindler.com for more info about her & her books!

The Art of (Bad) Novel Writing

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 13:59:00 +0000

This was originally a guest post on First Novels Club in August of 2009. I know, ancient history! In internet time, that's like when dinosaurs were roaming the earth. Enjoy the totally unaltered goodness of 15-year-old Steph's novelling advice. Oh, young Steph, you crazy kid. I promise to give you some brand! new! content! from old, wise 17-year-old Steph shortly.

Oh and good luck with NaNoWriMo, writerly folks.

I’m writing this in a Word document. I’m hitting the recount button with each word I type. Okay, I’m up to 23 words including the title. Now I’m up to 32! How long should this guest post be? I’ve never written a guest post before. I wonder where I’m going to go with this guest post. Recount. Yay! 63 words!

That previous paragraph is both an example of the fact that I’m a bit of an idiot (an idiot with an excuse, I’m a teenager, okay?) and also a lot like me writing my first novel when I was seven.

Have I lost you already? It’s okay, I’ve lost myself as well. I’m going to go looking for myself. If I come back before I return, can you hold on to me and make sure I don’t wander off again?

That first novel I wrote when I was seven didn’t progress past the first chapter. An eventful first chapter – wherein the heroine, Rose Merryhem, moved into a new house, rode an escalator to heaven, met some kind of archangel, went to the beach with a woman called Tabitha and ate some cornflakes – but only one chapter all the same. I’m a bit of an expert at crappy novels.

I’m also a bit of an expert at zombie movies, procrastinating and veering way off topic, but that’s entirely not the right stuff for this informative guest post, which, after reading, you will be able to very successfully complete a crappy novel which will then live under your bed for the next ten to fifteen years.

This is where I stop rambling and start informing:To write a bad novel, you have to sit down and write. You have to pump out the number of words you think there should be in a novel. You write and write and write. Make sure that the tense jumps around and there’s no specific plot.

And if you want your book to be really terrible, make sure you never ever edit it! Editing will improve your novel! You want a bad novel, remember?

Writing a bad novel is easy. Writing a good novel is hard. The first draft is only a tiny little bit of the work involved.

But here’s the thing:It’s okay to write a bad novel. The only way to improve your writing is to write and write and write and write.

A novel will never be great after you’ve written the first draft. In fact, the first draft of your first novel will inevitably be pretty bad, unless you’re some kind of super freak who can write awesome books in one go, in which case I shall kidnap you and hold you hostage, forcing you to write novels for me at gunpoint.

I don’t have a gun, so you can sleep easy for the time being, but the point is that once your writing is good, for it to become great, you’re going to have to learn to edit. You’re going to have to hack your manuscript to pieces and then tape it together. You’re going to have to obliterate entire scenes if they’re not necessary to the plot or character development.

It’s going to be really hard, because you love your characters. Or at least you should, since I do, and I don’t want to be crazy for loving my characters, so you oughta love yours. But this painful process is necessary if you’re going to make your book the best it can possibly be. It will be slow and painful, but it’s also going to be worth it in the end.

You have to let other people read your work and accept their honest opinions to help you improve your work. Other writers, preferably. The wonderful ladies of First Novels Club obviously have the right idea!

And of course, you should read and read and read. Be familiar with the genre you’re writing for.

But wait, what happened here? I was meant to tell you how to write a bad novel.

The problem is, I think my writing is starting to venture into the ‘okay novel’ territory. Not quite publishable yet, but I’m reading and writing and revising and submitting. People read my work and give me honest appraisals of it, and every time someone says, ‘Hey, this could be better if you…’ I’m not immediately thinking they’re insulting my literary genius. I’m learning.

That ‘bad novel’ thing? You might have to ask somebody else.

Where'd you go, Steph Bowe?

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 01:45:00 +0000

Folks. There is a lot of rhyming fun to be had with my surname. (It's bow as in bow and arrow rather than take a bow. Oh no, Steph Bowe! Etc, etc.) But that's not what this post is about. This post is about being very, very, very busy, but the sort of busy that will soon dissipate and be replaced by a bunch of other things.

I'm moving from just outside Melbourne to the Gold Coast in Queensland. I'm also in the midst of exam season. I'll have finished high school and will be living two states away in a little over a fortnight. I'm also going to be a full-time writer (probably only until I decide what I want to study, and I'm living with my family, but it's still new and terrifying).

As you can imagine, I am really super busy, as I am sure you are too (due to exams, NaNo, general life). But! I promise I will be back to writing madly once December arrives. In the meantime, stay fabulous.

Luck versus Hard work & Recognising Your Awesome

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Sat, 15 Oct 2011 13:43:00 +0000

Gosh, you guys, when did it become uncool to be proud of yourself? Was it ever cool to be proud of yourself? Everyone, all the time, is all, 'Hey, I'm not that great. I only managed to [insert awesome accomplishment here] because I was lucky. But you! You, you're fantastic, you're a genius!' Why is it okay to say unlovely things to yourself when we're so nice to other people we care about/admire? I hate this whole conversational pattern of self-deprecating comment + compliment (it's like a one-two punch! pow pow!) to which the other person replies with a self-deprecating comment + compliment. Usually it's about physical appearance ('Oh em gee, I'm so ugly, you're so pretty' 'No way, babe, you're gorgeous, I look awful' - seriously, I will delete my Facebook account if I see any more of this. And then I will move to a remote mountaintop retreat without internet. And live peacefully until the end of my days, never again having to witness the upload of someone's new default pic).

Is everyone worried they'll seem arrogant? I won't think you're arrogant if you like how you look, or you love your own books, or, you know, you actually value yourself the way you value other people. I'm talking specifically writing here, because being an insecure writer is what I know/do best, but you can apply this to basically everything. You can be proud of yourself without being arrogant. Saying that your success as a writer is mostly due to hard work does not discredit the hard work of writers who have yet to find the same success as you (find makes it sound as if writers stumble across book deals while adventuring in the long grass, doesn't it? Maybe they do) - to be entirely honest, saying it was luck is a lot more depressing to the unpublished writer (and also to me) than saying it was hard work. Yes, in the writing-and-publishing biz and a lot of other bizzes (biz's? bizi? I shouldn't use the word biz, I know. I'm just trying to sound hip and with it. I'm getting old) luck plays a part. And we know that.

Here is what I am saying: You are awesome. Other people can see your awesome emanating from you. Give yourself permission to increase your level of awesome. Give yourself permission to see that you are awesome. Stop saying 'I was lucky' so goddamn much (and quit it with the 'I'm ugly' too). You know, we're all pretty lucky. And we all (usually) achieve things through a lot of hard work. You're allowed to like yourself (probably a good idea, since you're stuck with yourself at least until death and then possibly longer depending on your belief system. I mean, I'm hoping it's just till death, because I don't know how long I'll be able to tolerate me). You're allowed to say that the awesome things you've done are a little more than just luck. You're allowed to be proud of yourself. People won't think you're arrogant, and if they do, they obviously need to find something better to think about.

Stop being self-deprecating. Seriously, stop it. It annoys me. As a writer, the things you have to write are just as important as everyone else's. As a human being, the things you say and have to contribute are just as important as everyone else's. Start liking yourself. Start being proud of your accomplishments and stop thinking they were just flukes. Yell from rooftops, 'I love Steph Bowe!' But, you know, replace my name with yours. Or don't. Entirely up to you.

Remember: Recognising that you are awesome is fine. Seriously. (As long as you recognise the awesome in other people, too. Don't go thinking you're Jesus.) Go forth and do awesome things.

Photo source: Mine!

Writing Bootcamp: Five Ways To Revive Your Novel by Luisa Plaja

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 11:14:00 +0000

Writing Bootcamp is a blog series in which I invite fabulous authors to share with you (yes, you! assuming you are an inquisitive writer) their best bits of writerly advice. Today, Luisa Plaja, author of novels including Split by a Kiss, Swapped by a Kiss, and Kiss Date Love Hate, shares five ways to revive your novel!

--

When you wrote the first page of your manuscript, it was true love. But now, several chapters in, things have cooled a bit. Perhaps it's all starting to feel too much like hard work. Or you're totally stuck. Maybe your novel is flagging... or you are?

Here are a few of my tried-and-tested methods for reviving a WIP...

Look at it from a different angle. Take a character who doesn't already have a direct voice in your story and freewrite from their point of view. Let this character rant about their likes and dislikes, and talk about what they think of your main character. I did this for my second novel, Extreme Kissing, which was originally told from one point of view ('good girl' Bethany). I ended up so involved in the new voice ('bad girl' Carlota) that I decided to keep it and write both points of view in alternating chapters. After that, there was no stopping me. I'm not sure I'd recommend that you go that far, but looking closely at another character's point of view can definitely get the writing flowing again.
Give yourself permission to delete. If you're stuck, you might want to delete a whole scene or scenes, taking you back to a time when you knew where the story was going and everything felt rosy. This can free you up to go in a shiny new direction. Keep all the off-cuts in a file so that it's not too upsetting, and remind yourself you can always put the chunks back. Chances are, you won't do anything of the sort. You'll rid yourself of some cumbersome darlings and never look back. But who knows when someone might be interested in a Director's Cut...?
Skip forwards. Is there a scene you're dying to write, but you just can't figure out how to get there? Write it anyway and work out the route another day. You might even find that you don't need the part in between after all. In either case, it's fine to write the bits that excite you today if it means getting unstuck and moving on with your story.

Join a writing challenge. Or, if there isn't one, start your own. Declare on Twitter/Facebook/offline - wherever the right kind of people hang out - that you intend to write a certain number of words or reach a particular goal. It's amazing how this can get you writing. (Personal note: I hadn't finished a novel until the first time I did NaNoWriMo, which is when I completed the first draft of the manuscript which is now Extreme Kissing. At that point I was stuck half-way through the novel which is now Split by a Kiss...)
Read something inspirational. There are a couple of how-to-write books I keep handy because there's always something there to give me the right kind of spark. (These books include Juicy Writing by Brigid Lowry and Escaping into the Open by Elizabeth Berg.) Or sometimes I hang around on Twitter (!) and it's never long before someone posts a wonderful, inspiring link, such as this one by Karen Mahoney: http://kaz-mahoney.livejournal.com/248213.html or this one by Malinda Lo: http://www.malindalo.com/2011/09/how-to-not-give-up-when-writing/

--

Luisa Plaja loves words and books. Her novels for teenagers include Split by a Kiss, Extreme Kissing and Swapped by a Kiss. She lives in Devon, England, and has two young children. Her next book, Kiss Date Love Hate, will be published by the Corgi imprint at Random House Children’s Books in February 2012. Check out her website: http://www.luisaplaja.co.uk/ and the teen book site she runs, the very awesome Chicklish: http://www.chicklish.co.uk/

Writing Bootcamp: Victoria Schwab says, 'Be Brave!'

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 06:21:00 +0000

Writing Bootcamp is a blog series in which I invite fabulous authors to share with you (yes, you! assuming you are an inquisitive writer) their best bits of writerly advice. Today Victoria Schwab, author of The Near Witch, tells you (yes! you again) to be brave...

--

When aspiring authors used to ask me for advice, I would smile and say, “Be a great reader,” or “Be a sponge,” or something kind, encouraging, but to be honest a bit common.

My advice has changed.

If someone asks me how to be a better WRITER, then I still answer with the above. But if someone asks me how to be a PUBLISHED AUTHOR, then I say this.

Be brave.

Putting yourself and your work out there to be judged is a terrifying thing, to be sure. But this is a very hard industry, one built on critique and rejection, and in order to get through, you have to be brave. Your want of publication has to be greater than your fear of rejection. If you find yourself paralyzed by the mere notion of critique, then you do not want it badly enough. YET. You are not ready. YET. And that’s okay.

In publishing, rejection exists not only as a way of culling potential books, but as a test, to see if the author is ready for the next step. Because rejection, critique, judgment...they exist at every step. They are an integral part of this industry.

So.

If you want this, if you really, really, really want this in that way that physically hurts, that way that keeps you up at night, holds your mind hostage and your fingers always writing, then you will be brave enough to share your work, brave enough to take feedback, brave enough to get better. Do not be hindered by fear. Let it drive you. Let your want carry you through.

I’m not saying you aren’t allowed to be afraid, not saying you’re weak or unready if you feel that fear (we ALL feel it). I’m only saying that you must look at fear and want and see which is bigger. Do not let fear win that contest.

Be brave.

--

Victoria Schwab is the author of The Near Witch (which you can find out more about on Goodreads). Check out her website (it is very cool) and ever fabulous blog (I really like this post). More about her here.

On selling Steph Bowe

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 11:43:00 +0000

I've been thinking a lot lately about the idea of the writer as a salesperson, as a public image, as a product. (And, by extension, about the public personalities everyone has to put on.)

I wonder: where does my real, genuine self stop and the idealised constructed image begin? Am I and is anyone (specifically any writer) ever genuinely themselves in a public sphere? Or is the fact that we are all trying to sell ourselves, our books, trying to make people like us or the approximation of us that we have created that is suitably palatable for others, mean that we must all always be separating our real flawed selves from our public personas? Am I, in writing this blog post, expressing my own opinion or the sort of thing that I think other people will read that will make them think positively of me?

Am I turning myself into a commodity? How often does someone buy my book because they've seen me speak or seen this site and thought 'hey, Steph Bowe is young and honest and awkwardly charming'? And is that what I am really like or is that an invented self? (Obviously I am young compared to most writers, so that's a fact.)

More than anything I want to write brilliant novels that readers will enjoy, but can writing brilliantly save you if you cannt stand to be a public speaker, and hate the internet, and are not an easily sellable identity? Can brilliant writing on its own land a writer a book deal and a career and writerly success, or must the writer also be a salesperson, with a dynamic, if fake, personality? Where is the line between intelligent discourse from writers and regurgitated marketing copy? What do brilliant books count for if only some people think they're brilliant?

What happens when you spend most of your time being your public persona? Does your secret, true, can't-reveal-or-people-won't-like-me self begin to disappear and become your constructed self? Is this a good thing? Do you lose that part of yourself, or does that part of yourself change? What if you like the public version of yourself more than you like who you really are?

Obviously I have a lot of questions. But one's identity is something everyone is thinking about (I imagine) and madly trying to formulate, especially in their youth. And everyone says 'be yourself' a lot, but I don't think anyone even knows who they are because they have taken on so much from other people and the media and their experiences that they really only have an idea of the person they think they should be. And maybe we don't have one self. Maybe 'be yourself' will mean a different thing to you every day of the week.

See, I'm breaking it down too much. Next minute I'll be talking about The Matrix and everything being an illusion (I'd take the red pill, fyi). The title of this blog post is very misleading. I'm sorry.

Anyway, questions I would love to hear your thoughts on (because you can't possibly answer all the questions in this post):

Should writers be public personalities to the degree that they are, or should we shut them up in their writing caves before their crazy thoughts infect the world?
Can anyone ever really be their genuine selves? Are our constructed facades extensions of these real selves or entirely false?

Writing Bootcamp: Kate Gordon's Editing Secrets!

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 01:15:00 +0000

Writing Bootcamp is a blog series in which I invite fabulous authors to share with you (yes, you! assuming you are an inquisitive writer) their best bits of writerly advice. Today, Kate Gordon, the most fabulous Tasmanian author of Three Things About Daisy Blue, Thyla and the upcoming sequel Vulpi, shares her very fabulous editing advice

--

I used to be afraid of editing. I used to think it meant all those lovely words I'd written – so lovingly crafted and so treasured, each and every one of them – would be hacked at; ripped apart; mutilated.

Now, I know better.

This is the metaphor I use when I'm doing school visits: Your first draft is a lump of play dough. It might be the colour you want for your novel. It might even have glittery bits or pretty swirly bits or it might even be your favourite colour ever! It might be a new formulation. It might have taken you ages and ages to get that lump of play dough. But it's still just a lump.

Editing is what turns it into something beautiful.

Editing might mean taking bits of the lump away, or adding bits on. It might means tweaking that part of the lump or making that bit flatter or that bit bumpier. It might even mean squashing the lump down and building it again. It might even – gasp – mean throwing that lump of play dough out because it's so full of dirt and fluff now that it's not even the same pretty colour it was before. There might be a lot of love – and even sweat (yuck) – in that lump but honey, it just aint purdy any more.

It's a long metaphor, I know, but I think it's a good 'un. So many beginning writers get to 50,000 words and go “Hurrah! I finished! That's it!”.

I'm the wicked witch who always says: “Good on you. Now edit.”

There are no hard and fast golden rules for editing, just as there are no golden rules for writing. Every writer is different and so is every editor. The editor is just as much of an artist as the writer. My wonderful editor at Random House said to me that as an editor she needs eyes in the back of her head and the side of her head and all over her head so she can see the scene from every direction. As our own editors (because yes, you must edit your work BEFORE you send it to a publisher), we kind of need the same thing. We need to see our manuscript – or our lump – from every angle. Because what's the point of a play dough sculpture that's pretty on one side but ugly and messed up on every other side?

Having said there are no golden rules, here are MY tips for editing:

Put your manuscript away. Seriously. If you have a deadline this gets harder but if you have a bit of time put the thing away. Read some books. Watch some X Factor. Just don't think about it for as long as possible. Then, when you've almost forgotten what the book was even about, bring it out. Read it. Realise it's a lump. You'll see that it's a lump after a bit of distance. Whenever you've just finished a manuscript it's always the best thing you've ever read. After a few weeks? It's a lump.
Read it first like you're a reader. Start to finish. Don't have your editing hat on yet. Pretend you've never read this thing before. Pretend you just spent twenty dollars on it and you're hoping it's the best book you've ever read. Make a note down the side whenever you go “huh”? Or “that doesn't make sense. Didn't they just ...” or “people so don't talk like that”.
Then, read it as an editor. Read every scene with eyes all over your head (I know, that's a bit of a gross image). See it from every character's point of view. If there was a character who had a line at the start of the scene who then doesn't have a line until the end of the scene … WHAT ON EARTH WAS HE DOING FOR THE REST OF THE SCENE? If a character was on a boat and on the next scene they're up a mountain (sorry to my editor – I do this ALL THE TIME), HOW DID THEY GET TO THE MOUNTAIN?
Read it out aloud. Dialogue especially but all of it, if your voice will take it. Read it to your cat. Do not read it to your sister or your boyfriend. Not yet. This is your time with the manuscript. Let them read it later. You and MS need some alone time to get to know each other.
After you change a whole scene (which you will have to do – sorry), you will need to read the whole MS again. Changing even one sentence in the editing process causes a domino effect throughout the book. My tip? Every bit you cut or significantly change – don't delete it. Put it in a separate document and use a highlighter function in Word to highlight any sentences within that scene which you'll need to pop into another scene in order for your MS to still make sense.
Use the technology. Use the notes function, the highlighter function, “track changes”. The technology is there to serve you. Oh and also? Save a new document every time you go in to edit. That way you can look back and see what changes you made or go back to an earlier version if you really stuffed up. Oh and back up. Please, please back up.
Any word that doesn't need to be there? Cut it. Seriously. I learned this from my great friend, Christina Booth. She's a picture book writer and she had taught me so much about writing novels. She has to tell whole stories in 500 words. She's very, very good at telling lots in as few words as possible. It might be tempting to fill your novel with “fluff” just to get to that magic 50,000 word count (or 100,000 if you're writing fantasy). Just don't do it. Ditto “pretty metaphors”. Don't chuck lots in there. Stick with one and really go for it. And similes should be used very sparingly.
Eat lots of chocolate. This last tip might sound flippant but editing does take it out of you in a way writing kind of doesn't. They're very different skill sets. When you're writing you're on a creative high. When you're editing you need to concentrate. Hard. So eat well (and that includes chocolatey treats for your mental health) … And take breaks. Don't rush this. It's a long process. But a very rewarding one.

Hope all of that helps! I hope you're all out there sitting with your little play dough lumps (after having stashed them under the bed for a while), with your finger outstretched, ready to give it the first, important, poke. Don't be afraid. You're not mutilating. You're making it sing. See what I did there? I mixed my metaphors – Play Dough DOES NOT SING!

You're making it wonderful.

--

Kate Gordon grew up in a very booky house, with two librarian parents, in a small town by the sea on the north-west coast of Tasmania. In 2009, Kate was the recipient of a Varuna writer’s fellowship. Her first book, Three Things About Daisy Blue – a young adult novel about travel, love, self-acceptance and letting go – was published in the Girlfriend series by Allen & Unwin in 2010. Now Kate lives with her husband and her very strange cat, Mephy Danger Gordon. Every morning, while Kate writes, Mephy Danger sits behind her on the couch with his tail curled around her neck. Kate was the recipient of a 2011 Arts Tasmania Assistance to Individuals grant, which means she can now spend more time losing herself in the world of Thylas and Sarcos. She is currently working on the sequel to Thyla. Kate blogs at http://www.kategordon.com.au/blog and you can follow her on Twitter at www.twitter.com/misscackle. She sometimes says some funny stuff!

Did I ever mention that I took a gap year after kindergarten?

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 00:48:00 +0000

If I could actually remember what I did that year, I would write a heart-warming, poignant, laugh-out-loud funny memoir about a five-year-old's search for identity and purpose in the 'burbs. My grand and life-transforming exploits would inspire you to make change in your own life. I'd write about my existential crises, and the myriad interesting characters I encountered, and about backpacking across Europe... wait I don't think it was possible that I backpacked across Europe... about backpacking across the backyard! Oh, the adventures I had! The realisations about the absolute truths of life and love and death and religion! The discovery of self outside the limits of the System! The freedom! Like Eat Pray Love only forty years younger!

And then I went to primary school.

Unfortunately I have a terrible memory and I am left to assume that 1999 was probably the greatest year of my young life. But maybe I just stayed at home and read The Very Hungry Caterpillar over and over again. Probably. (Really quite similar to my life now.)

(I could always ask my family, but you know me. I'd rather wonder and invent a splendid fiction.)

A Thousand Words Festival

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 11:05:00 +0000

Hey you kids in/around Melbourne! What're you up to this Friday & Saturday? You're going to be sitting at home? Wasting hours on Facebook and Tumblr and thinking 'I should really get dressed and participate in life because it is short/you only live once/insert cliche saying here'? (Note: This is not. At. All. reflective of Steph Bowe's lifestyle. No way.)

Here's what you should do instead: Come see me and a whole lot of other awesome authors at A Thousand Words Festival at the Northcote Town Hall.

Bec Kavanagh, the super fabulous organiser of the festival, says this about it:

Not long now until the annual celebration of books that is A Thousand Words Festival! In 2011 we’re bigger than ever with the biggest book swap, the festival gala, interactive performance panels and books, so many books!

If you’re on holidays and are a reader, wannabe writer, emerging editor, book fiend or sucker for a story come to the festival this year. On Friday the 23rd and Saturday the 24th of September you’ll be able to come down to the Northcote Town Hall and join other writers and book lovers to talk all things bookish. YA authors Tim Pegler, Leanne Hall, Cath Crowley, Fiona Wood join many
more to present a show like no other. Check out the full program at http://www.athousandwordsfestival.com.au/ and we’ll see you at the festival!

I'll be there on the Friday, on these shiny, happy panels (my face is also on the poster. Say hello to little Steph on the poster. Hello little Steph!):

1.00pm – 1.55pm
Main Hall – Generation why?
Authors answer the age old question “why should I read” with their take on what it takes to write books people want to read.
Steph Bowe & Michael Pryor
Hosted by Bec Kavanagh
Studio -Bookshop

4.30pm – 6.00pm
Studio – PD for teachers
“Bringing books out of the classroom” Using the festival momentum to engage reluctant readers in class.
Bec Kavanagh in conversation with Fiona Wood, Cath Crowley and Steph Bowe

Yes, I am on panels with Michael Pryor and Fiona Wood and Cath Crowley. Yes, they are infinitely more mature and intellectual than I, and yes they are writing superstars. I know. I am really terribly excited. Anyway, it promises to be oodles of fun and there is possibly complimentary juice. But I am not sure. I will get back to you on that. Tickets on the website!

Let's talk about books!

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Wed, 14 Sep 2011 04:51:00 +0000

Or more accurately, let's talk about books & magazines & other printed things I've recently consumed

Dangerous Angels by Francesca Lia Block
I feel that if I were seventeen closer to when these novels were published - late eighties to mid nineties - when perhaps they were really unique and original and fresh, I would have enjoyed them a lot more. I just sort of don't really understand these novels, or why people adore them with such intensity - what am I missing? How can I understand them? I think they were too brief for me - a strange sort of cross between short story and novel, though novella doesn't seem like the write word - and things resolved too quickly for my liking. There were parts where I thought the writing was really lovely and enchanting, but there were also parts where I was terribly confused. Some stories occur in a world closer to reality than others, it seemed, and I preferred those.

Animal Farm by George Orwell
Is very good.

After Dark by Haruki Murakami
This is the first Murakami novel I have read, and I can't say it really engaged me (I will probably read one of his more popular novels and see whether I have a different reaction). There were lovely moments, and I didn't mind the lack of action, but overall I just felt a sense of something missing. Maybe this is because I am used to a more traditional plot-driven novel, but it didn't even seem particularly character-driven, more based around a particular mood. I got the sense it would work better as a short story.

Love Story by Erich Segal
Look, I know lots of people really adore this novel (and the film, which I haven't seen) and it's short and sweet and everything, but I will say this very quietly so as not to offend you, but I didn't really like it. It was overly simplistic for my liking. But it's only a short novel, and if you are a romantic maybe you will like it.

Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer
I highly recommend this. Not a lot else needs to be said.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer
Right near the end of this novel, probably the end of the second to last chapter, I couldn't breathe properly for about five minutes and cried a bit (also it was in the early hours of the morning and I was quite tired and had just finished another round of revising my novel so perhaps that had something to do with it, too). And I feel this odd sort of guilt over being really affected by novels, as if I should perhaps be more critical. I'm not sure why. But there were sections of this book that I really loved and that were just magnificent and sections I found extremely disquieting and things I didn't really get. Overall, fairly brilliant.

Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer
I didn't find Everything Is Illuminated quite as affecting, I think because of the stories set in the past felt so distant - rather than it being personally told, it was the great-grandson recounting events. Alexi was a great narrator, though. (And in terms of age-appropriateness, I wouldn't recommend either this or Foer's other novel to anyone younger than sixteen - obviously it depends on the reader, and I'm not generally one to say 'young people should not read this!' but some of the content, especially in Everything is Illuminated is fairly inappropriate for younger teenagers).

Less Than Zero by Bret Easton Ellis
This is another book that I feel I would have found more affecting had I read it when it first came out, when the whole 'rich and apathetic youths living morally disturbed lives' thing wasn't quite as cliché. I probably would have found it more shocking if I were growing up in the eighties or nineties. Twelve by Nick McDonnell actually strikes me as very, very similar to this novel, and I imagine McDonnell would've been fairly inspired by Ellis. (Similar to the last book, I wouldn't recommend this to anyone younger than about sixteen.) I'm going to read more Ellis novels, but this one just made me feel slightly uncomfortable more than anything. (Always when I am reading books that people I know love, I am terribly confused and feel like I am missing something.)

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S Thompson
Just downright strange. I'm not sure I recommend it to anybody at all. And especially not young people. Maybe older people who lived through the sixties and were/are drug-addled would get it.

The Big Issue No. 388: Fiction Edition Special
Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. All such good stories, I cannot pick any favourites. I highly recommend you get your hands on a copy.

The Victorian Writer Sept-Oct 2011
There's a short little article by me in this magazine put out by the Victorian Writer's Centre (it's on the right side of page 13, and is called 'Month of Writing') this month! You should read it! There are also lots of other great articles & stories inside.

--

Would love to hear your thoughts on these novels (especially if you loved the ones I didn't like and can somehow explain to me what I'm missing...) (Also I would appreciate book recommendations! I need to read more!)

Teaser Tuesday: Little Death

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 20:52:00 +0000

This is not from the novel I am currently editing nor the one I am struggling to write, but a little scene which I wrote quite a while ago. I've had the general idea for this novel and a bunch of scenes in my head for a long time now, and I'd like to go back and write a little more and see where it takes me (I don't really like this scene too much - it's terribly sentimental, and I am far less of a romantic than the things I write seem to indicate - but hey! thought you might like reading it).

If I were ever to write it, this would be a novel about twins, awkward afterlife, and reality not measuring up to expectations (and of course unrequited love, because it's the best kind of love to write about). It's very important that you play this song, and then this one whilst reading. I feel it will improve your experience.

-

On a Friday night, just after eleven, Gracie and Wren and I lay on the floor of Wren’s room, stretched out like starfish and staring upwards at the constellation of glow-in-the-dark stars Wren had stuck to her ceiling. Gracie was in the middle, counting the stars under her breath. Wren was playing us all of her favourite songs - we were listening to a Sufjan Stevens one - and it was one of those nights when lying on the bedroom floor and listening to music in the dark with your twin sister and her best friend felt like the height of human existence.

Wren’s room was wondrous, partly because of the girl that slept there. The carpet was all dark blue and plush, and the walls were painted light blue, though the colour only peeked out where the wall wasn’t covered in postcards and letters from Wren’s many penpals (including two children she sponsored in a third world country, a Japanese school girl, quite a few Europeans who sent her very nice chocolate, and a bunch of others, all of whom she wrote to often). The door of her cupboard was permanently open, and stuffed with pastel dresses and shoeboxes filled with sandals and mementoes and all her notes-to-self that she never read. Her mattress was pushed against one wall of her room, and she had a low coffee table against the wall opposite, cluttered with her laptop, speakers and books and stationary and abandoned homework and coffee cups. A full-length mirror leant against the wall there, too, with photos of Gracie and Wren and their various friends tucked into the frame. I was in the corner of one.

Gracie said, ‘I’m making popcorn’ because even though it was Wren’s house, Gracie behaved as if she owned the place, and often decided to make an impromptu snack without first asking the host. Wren never minded. She got to her feet and wandered out, leaving Wren and I alone. The song drew to a close, and Wren got up and scrolled through the artists on her iPod and selected a new song. When she came back, she lay down closer to me.

She tilted her head towards me and whispered, ‘I love this song.’ It was A New England by Billy Bragg. Head still tilted towards me, she closed her eyes and smiled, and began to mouth the words.

There are certain things I took for granted when I was alive. That I would not die anytime soon, that death was for the old and sick and stupid, that I’d breathe and eat and sleep and go to school and be a little bored by it all. That I’d spend a disproportionate amount of time hanging out with my sister, and someday go to uni, and get drunk and fall down, and maybe someday be loved by someone outside my family. That I’d always unrequitedly love Wren, and she’d always see me as like a brother, and I’d feel hopeless about the entire situation. But it’d be okay, because I still got to spend time with her.

And of course I never got to uni, and I only got fall-down drunk on a couple of occasions (both times with my sister around), and I didn’t go to school at all again after that Friday (had I known, I probably would’ve enjoyed Maths Methods a little more, and given my kind English teacher a hug). At least not in my own body.

I’d spent ten years in love with Wren - with her funny laugh and exaggerated stories and her patience and compassion with everybody and her faith in the good of the world - and I must’ve had some kind of inkling of what was coming. Or Gracie must’ve spiked the Coke we’d had earlier in the evening. But whatever it was, I was made brave by the darkness and the music and the perfect moment.

Wren’s hair was crazy with curls, not straightened like usual, and I loved that. She opened her eyes again, ‘This is the best bit.’ I could hear popcorn popping. I saw two shooting stars last night, the song went. I knew it by heart because she’d played it for us before; I had the same songs on my iPod from when she’d burnt mix CDs for Gracie years earlier. I wished on them but they were only satellites.

‘I really like you, Wren,’ I whispered. And this was the understatement of the millennium, and she was quiet for what felt like a long time but couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds, as the same verse of the song was playing (Is it wrong to wish on space hardware?). And my heart kind of leapt around and did an Irish jig and a full-length marathon in those couple seconds and then Wren whispered back, ‘I really like you, too, Teddy’ and not in a like-a-brother way. And my heart did not slow down one bit.

I wish, I wish, I wish you’d care. She tilted her head closer and kissed me, very softly, like I’d imagined so many times before. And I wanted to bring my hand up and touch the side of her face, and her hair, and her waist. I wanted to kiss her again, and kiss her collarbone, and kiss the freckle on her shoulder, and the scar on her arm from when she’d fallen from a tree with Gracie as a ten-year-old. I wanted to whisper to her every beautiful thing about her and everything she’d ever meant to me. I was hoping beyond all hope that she cared about me to the same degree that I cared about her, and that every pointless and funny conversation we’d shared had the same weight to her. That she’d thought about the few words we exchanged when she came by to pick up Gracie for something late into the night, like I did.

I didn’t get to do any of these things. I never even got to kiss her again.

And obviously Gracie is not to blame for this, though on Friday night she was. The chorus of the song played, and Gracie’s footsteps came down the hall, and Wren and I immediately snapped apart. Those two minutes were the greatest two minutes of my entire year, of my entire relationship (or lack thereof) with Wren, and they were cut short due to the fact that popcorn is obscenely quick to cook in a microwave.

Gracie is usually a pretty perceptive person - well, she likes to think she’s a pretty perceptive person - but I think she’s more tapped into supernatural things (not that I ever believed this, not till later) than plain old teenage sexual tension. She brought the popcorn in and put the light on and didn’t notice me blushing and asked, ‘Do you guys want to watch a movie?’

Should authors really be on Goodreads?*

noreply@blogger.com (Steph Bowe) — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 04:50:00 +0000

I have some conflicting feelings when it comes to Goodreads. First of all, I like being able to catalogue and keep track of everything I've read, though I'm on so many different sites now I forget to update it regularly. And I love discussion about books and being able to communicate with other readers on more neutral ground than someone's blog. So I think Goodreads is fabulous in those respects.

However, I don't think one's attitudes towards a book can really be distilled to a score out of five. I much prefer reading reviews that explore the various things they liked and disliked about the book thus giving the reader of the review a sense of whether a book is for them.

Another thing I'm uncertain about is whether or not writers should be so closely connected to their reviewers and their reviews.

It's nice to talk about how important it is that writers accept feedback and critique and improve their work and interact with their readers. Let's imagine for a moment that all reviews - positive and negative and indifferent - all critique the author's work without ever being nasty or personal or vague. This is not true, obviously, but even in this ideal reality of conscientious readers and writers all responding to one another, there would come a point at which the writer would need to stop reading and believing every review of their work and just write already.

Every reader will have a different opinion of a work. By the time something is published, a novel has already been read and ripped apart and pieced back together by multiple people - other writers, editors, and so on. Someone saying 'this book is crap, it would have been better had the girl not died in the end' after a book has been worked on for years and then published is not helpful to the writer.

Reviewers - those writing for print publications, book bloggers, people on Amazon and Goodreads - are brilliant. They help other readers figure out which books are for them and promote novels they love and talking about books and reading and writing is just about as fun a past time as actually reading and writing. But if authors are in close contact with their reviewers, it makes it a hell of a lot harder for them to remain objective. Now that I know lots of authors I find reviewing books by people I know downright impossible - what if I like the author but not their book? What if I dislike the author but adore their book? You end up bringing a lot more baggage to the review.

Writers cannot please every reader. I really want to become the best writer I can be, and enjoy writing, and share stories with other people for as long as possible. But if I read all my reviews and take everything to heart, I will never be able to write. Advice for writers sometimes suggests you write to one person only, and I think that's a lot easier before you're published and you have the opinions of everyone who has a copy of your book and an internet connection. If you believe the nice things people say about you, you have to believe the negative things too.

I'm not saying stop reading your reviews, or stop being friends with authors (guys! Be my friend! Sitting at home and writing is lonely!), or stop accepting critique (everyone has a different opinion, and other people's points of view, those of non-writers or publishing folks, can be immensely helpful). I'm just saying everything in moderation. Don't feel as if you need to read every review of your novel and take all that critique on board, because it won't result in you writing the perfect novel. Maybe, when you're writing a first draft, step back a bit. Because you can't please everybody. And an average score of 2.73 or 3.61 or 4.17 on Goodreads or Amazon or wherever ultimately means very little.

*And by 'authors' I of course mean 'Steph Bowe', but it seemed kind of odd referring to myself in the third person in a blog title. In the body of a blog post, however, anything goes!

Would love to hear your thoughts on the relationship between writers and their reviews - should writers read all of their reviews? Or ignore them entirely? Should reviewers be besties with the writers they review? So many questions! Give me some answers!