YA Ventures by Best-Selling Authors

In the last few years, quite a few best-selling authors have started publishing young adult books. Perhaps it's because YA sales are still in the stratosphere. Or maybe people, authors included, are increasingly able to recognize that YA fiction isn't a watered-down  stepping stone for kids getting ready to read "real" fiction, but a vibrant category that includes great stories and brilliant writing.

Having enjoyed two recent Nick Hornby books--you can read my reviews here for A Long Way Down and Juliet, Naked--I picked up Slam recently. I thought Hornby's sharp observational skills and sly wit would be perfect for YA. 

For this YA title, Hornby chose a first person POV that is determinedly conversational with a what's-up-dude, chummy tone. Add to that the often unnecessary spelling-out and explaining of events, and I find myself wishing he had stuck to his regular style of writing. 

What I appreciate the most about Hornby's books is how he presents his characters' flaws and self-absorption in a way that evokes sympathy and understanding: there but by the grace of God. Sam the 18 year-old, like protagonists in the other books, is certainly flawed. But instead of gaining a better understanding of him and finding him more sympathetic over the course of the book, I just felt my sympathy erode. I don't see any signs about the way he treats people or makes decisions that shows real growth in his maturity, compassion, humility. And the way the book ended, [Spoiler alert} with him making out like a bandit, just seems incredulous.


Now, granted, I'm not the target audience (although I do read a lot of YA and have slept in the Holiday Inn Express) so my reaction is to be taken with large pinches of salt. Maybe teens are in fact unable to see outside their own concerns. I don't completely buy that idea. But say that I do, then here is my question: would these teens have any inclination to read about other teens who are completely self-absorbed? 


Or maybe this whole thing is a satire and I just didn't get it.

Another author whose work I usually enjoy, Harlan Coben, also ventured into the YA world recently. This NY Times bestseller, The Shelter, is tied in to Live Wire, his latest Myron Bolitar books. The tone and voice of his YA book are not that dissimilar to those in his general fiction ones. Good choice. He got across the character of Mickey Bolitar, nephew of Myron, without resorting to gimmicks and cheesy cultural references and fake teenness.


While doing research on the web (ahem) for this post, I came across Book Aunt's much more extensive post on the topic. She lists at least a dozen titles written by authors better known for their general fiction. She also includes a top-ten list of what not to do when writing for young adults, which is definitely worth a read. 


Have you read any of the YA novels by crossover authors? What do you think? And speaking of crossover authors, are you excited about J. K. Rowling's venture into general fiction?

Bittersweet

Variations On A Theme is published! I wasn't able to post it here earlier because other things in life took precedence over blogging this past week. What a thrill it was to hold copies of it in my hand! The variety of stories in this anthology is amazing, given that all of them are supposed to have been inspired from the same two tales. 

If you haven't read got a copy, do go to Amazon and get one, or eight.

So the above is the "sweet" part of the title of this post. 

Today, I learned that The Literary Lab will not continue as an active blog. Davin, Michelle, and Scott will keep it available as a static, meaning anyone can read their archived posts. 

Part of me hopes that it's an April Fool's prank --although I think I may just go wring their individual necks if that's the case--but part of me recognizes that every good thing must come to an end. I will miss the thought-provoking posts, lively interaction among their loyal readers, and sublime silliness that can happen in the comments section. I wish them the best.


And that, was the bitter part of the post. 


Maybe I should have titled my post "dark chocolate" today.

Expelled

A fellow blogging writer said that currently he hates every word he writes and that is why he keeps writing. 

It strikes me as a very sensible and practical thing to do. 

I too, am not fond of my words these days, so I am getting rid of them, by flinging them from my mind onto the screen. Be gone, you bland, weak, imprecise, lame words!

On a different note: happy Vernal Equinox!

The TBR shuffle

Like every other book lover, I have a big To-Re-Read pile. It is pretty fluid, that is to say, I may think I'm going to read The Corrections as soon as I finish my current book, but I may decide to read Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince instead. 

Some of these decisions are totally pragmatic: when a book I put on hold at the library becomes available, I usually read it right away. Sometimes, the decisions are a lot more capricious. Say I planned to read Alice Munro's newest story collection but am feeling sadder or more introspective than usual, then I pick up Nick Hornby or Jonathan Tropper instead. Sometimes several people recommend a YA title but I've just finished 4 YA books,so I may read a few more chapters in my non-fiction pile, about parenting/mindset/fast and slow thinking/happiness. (For some reason, I don't finish a non-fiction book continuously as I do fiction so I always have several that are on-going.)

So lately this is how my TBR shuffle has played out:

• Where Things Come Back by John Corey Whaley because it recently won two awards, one of which is the Michael L. Prinz, and more importantly, because it became available from the library, with multiple holds after mine.
• Orchards by Holly Thompson. I met Holly last May in Singapore, at the Asian Festival of Children's Content, and have been meaning to read this book ever since. Now that it has won the 2012 APALA Asian/​Pacific Award for Literature (and I was the one who informed her first, by the way. Yes, very proud of my achievement, indeed.) I finally read it.
• Love in the time of Chorela by Gabriel Garcia Marquez because Domey Malasarn said reading it made him smile. I can always do with more smiles. Plus I'd bought it some 15 months ago and was getting tired of dusting it. 
• Next up: State of Wonder by Ann Patchett which I bought when it first came out, because that's what Jim McCarthy over at DGLM recommended to me. 
• Or not. I was walking past the YA shelves in the library and noticed brand new copies of Behemoth and Goliath sitting there innocently. Grabbed them both and ready to re-read my own copy of Leviathan, and have a Scott Westerfield fest! 

What about you? What are you reading now and why are you reading it? How often do you switch your books on your TBR pile?

Typing With My Eyes Closed

In case you think that "typing with my eyes closed" is euphemism for something else, say, writing without passing judgment, or this is something so easy that I exert no effort, you'd be reading too much into the title.

You see, I have to close my eyes frequently when I write these days. I had two cataract surgeries last month. (I know, most people don't need them till they're older, but I'm among the lucky few.) My eyes are healing well, but they are very dry and they tire easily. I also think that the fancy coating on my glasses had been doing their thing because now that I don't wear glasses, except to read up close or to drive, my eyes are more sensitive to light, whether sunlight or the light from my computer screen.


And that is why I have been typing with my eyes closed. And even though this course of action was born of necessity, I find that I am, in fact, writing with less inhibition, and faster, because I have fewer things to pay attention to, namely typos and weird spacing in my words. Thoughts are flowing more smoothly from my mind to the screen.


I wouldn't say that my new way of working has freed up my writing all that significantly, but I am rather enjoying the process. If you will tolerate a bit of pop-psych terminology, I'd even say that I am embracing this unexpected gift. 

Maybe you'd like to try it sometimes and see if helps.

Happy Dance, Part II

The dancing turtle from yesterday's post was cute, but look at what I had originally wanted to use:

My hair never curled like that, but those are pretty much my dance moves. 


These are drawn by the talented Maria Mercado, whose website I found as I searched for a picture for yesterday's post. I hadn't heard back from her with regards to having her permission to use the images and I was impatient to share my good news, which is why I chose the dancing turtle. But now that I've heard back from her, I have to show them to you.


Check out her blog for more wonderful doodles. Someone who can draw like that even when she's sick is definitely living and breathing her art.


Hope you're having a happy dance sort of a day.

Happy news!

I have long been a fan of The Literary Lab and so was doubly excited to find out I won the top prize in their Variations on a Theme contest!

These folks not only organized and judged the contest, they also put up their own money for the winners. It's clear that they love fiction and are doing their part to spread their love. 

This anthology, their third, will be available in March. In the mean time, I hope you'll support their effort to promote good writing by checking out the first two. 

You know what else is cool? That when I look at the names of the other authors whose work will be included, I recognize quite a few  from having interacted with them at the Lit Lab blog. And let me tell ya, the comments section is half the fun over there. Davin, Scott, and Michelle chime in often, and do a great job in creating a fun and welcoming place to discuss and ask questions. It's no wonder they have a loyal following. 


So, while you enjoy reading the diverse works from these anthologies, I will go resume my happy dance!

Juliet, Naked: A Brief Review

Nobody writes insecure and neurotic people as well as Nick Hornby. Okay, there's Woody Allen. But Allen lacks the uniquely-British calm facade that pretends everything is fine; splendid, in fact. I'm not British , but as I was reading this book, I was impressed by how, just from having grown up in an ex-British colony, I have absorbed a lot of that into my psyche. I completely bought into how each of his main characters over-thinks and second-guesses their own actions and how the spoken dialogue is but a fraction of the one that goes on inside the character's head.

The story is about Annie and Duncan, a couple, and Tucker Crowe, the singer-songwriter who is the object if Duncan's obsession. After Annie splits up with Duncan, she makes the acquaintance of Tucker and ends up having him (and his young son) stay at her house. 


An absurd story line, really. But who says absurdity is bad? Especially when the absurdity carries truth in it, such as the way Duncan justifies in his mind to himself that he is superior to the young man who, like him, is standing outside the house of Tucker's old girlfriend; and the way Annie uses algebra to calculate how much of her 15 wasted years with Duncan has caused her.


It was a delicious read for the most part, and a slightly uncomfortable one as well, when I recognized my own neuroses and insecurities. I have to say, though, about three quarters of the way through, I needed a break from all those wounded and fragile egos. Luckily (cunningly?) Nick Hornby inserts a laugh-out-loud scene using a common and totally benign greeting when two of the characters meet. That scene is priceless. Had the novel ended there, several threads would have been left hanging, but it would have worked for me.