Tara Gilboy is the author of the Middle Grade fantasy novels, Unwritten and Rewritten (see my review next Friday). Stay tuned for her upcoming blog post on writing for Middle Grades.
Why
Adults Should Read Middle Grade Novels,
by Tara Gilboy
I don’t
read adult books.
Most
people give me strange looks when I say this. I’m an author, after all.And a grown
up. Why wouldn’t I want to read
adult books?
I think
my friends and family assume it’s a phase. They are always trying to give me
books after they’ve finished them. This
one will convince you to read adult books again. Nope.
Now
don’t get me wrong: there are many adult books I like. I have a few favorites,
and from time to time, I will reread them. I love Jane Austen, Stephen King,
and Amy Tan. Elizabeth Kostova’s The
Historian is a favorite, as is Anthony Doerr’s All the Light We Cannot See. It’s not that I think there is
anything wrong with adult books. It’s just that I like middle grade books
better.
As I sat
down to write this blog post, I realized I’d never really considered closely
why I prefer middle grade over adult novels. Whenever anyone asked me, I’d
always given the easy answer: “well, it’s because I write them.” (Which seems
like the very responsible, professional, “adult” answer.) Or even worse: “ I
don’t know. I just like them better.”
But
middle grade books are important. For children, yes. But for adults too.
Far in the future, an interplanetary civil conflict has ground to an uneasy halt. Kithri, abandoned on a desolate mining planet, meets Eril, shell-shocked pilot. A freak accident sends them back to a time when their desert world was lush and green, when an alien civilization stands on the brink of a war of total destruction. They must choose to remain outside the conflict or to stand up for what they believe.
The Princess Beard (The Tales of Pell) by Kevin Hearne and
Delilah S. Dawson (Del Rey)
This is the third
“Tale of Pell” I’ve read, and by far the most entertaining. It is, of course, a
pirate story, complete with a beard-sporting princess, a dryad in the process
of transforming into a carnivorous tree, a pudgy elf, and a centaur whose
secret magical weapon involves pelting his enemies with hot tea and sugary
pastries. Oh, and the captain – Filthy Lucre – is a parrot in search of the
ideal shoulder perch.
For me this novel
had more structure and cohesiveness than the earlier two, which often devolved
into excuses for puns that had only approximate relationship to the central
plot. I found these characters much more sympathetic, I loved how each grew and
matured during their adventures, so the entire effect was of greater emotional
immediacy and warmth, but no less exciting action. And bad puns. Highly
entertaining, and with great heart.
These days, so many of us are beset by anxiety. I found this article from The Conversation helpful -- even if I already knew some of these strategies, it's always good to be reminded.
7 science-based strategies to cope with coronavirus anxiety
As the SARS-CoV-2 virus continues its global spread and the number of diagnosed COVID-19 cases continues to increase, anxiety related to the outbreak is on the rise too.
As a psychologist, I am seeing this in my practice already. Although feeling anxiety in response to a threat is a normal human reaction, sustained high anxiety can undermine constructive responses to the crisis. People who already suffer from anxiety and related disorders are especially likely to have a hard time during the coronavirus crisis.
The following suggestions, based on psychological science, can help you deal with coronavirus anxiety.
The solution is to learn to gradually face uncertainty in daily life by easing back on certainty-seeking behaviors.
Start small: Don’t text your friend immediately the next time you need an answer to a question. Go on a hike without checking the weather beforehand. As you build your tolerance-of-uncertainty muscle, you can work to reduce the number of times a day you consult the internet for updates on the outbreak.
Struggling against anxiety can take many forms. People might try to distract themselves by drinking, eating or watching Netflix more than usual. They might repeatedly seek reassurance from friends, family or health experts. Or they might obsessively check news streams, hoping to calm their fears. Although these behaviors can help momentarily, they can make anxiety worse in the long run. Avoiding the experience of anxiety almost always backfires.
Instead, allow your anxious thoughts, feelings and physical sensations to wash over you, accepting anxiety as an integral part of human experience. When waves of coronavirus anxiety show up, notice and describe the experience to yourself or others without judgment. Resist the urge to escape or calm your fears by obsessively reading virus updates. Paradoxically, facing anxiety in the moment will lead to less anxiety over time.
The Hole in the Moon and Other Tales, by Margaret St. Clair (Dover)
I was introduced to
the work of Margaret St. Clair decades ago through her novels, The Dolphins of Altair and The Dancers of Noyo. I still have those
old Ace editions. Now Dover has gathered together her short fiction, which
belongs on every SF collector’s shelf. The stories show the scope (and
weirdness) of her imagination. Her stories are often uneasy, dark and
Twilight-Zone-ish, but always fiercely intelligent. She trusts her readers to
perceive what is going on without explaining or spoon-feeding.
In researching her biography,
I learned a couple of fascinating things about St. Clair – that she was a
lifelong supporter of American Friends Service Committee, and that she lived at
Friends House in Santa Rosa in the last years of her life. So it did not
surprise me to learn she was indeed a birthright Friend (Quaker), although she
became interested in Wicca later in life after researching a novel. She wrote:
“Those who have
lived through the Holocaust, Hiroshima, Coventry, Dresden, may be excused for
forgetting that love, kindness, compassion, nobility, exist. Yet in man’s
animal nature lie not only the roots of his cruelty, viciousness, sadism, but
also of his perfectly real goodness and nobility. The potential is always
there.”-- Quoted in Monster, She Wrote: The Women Who Pioneered
Horror and Speculative Fiction, by Lisa Kröger and Melanie R. Anderson
#StayHomeAndRead! I've temporarily reduced the prices of my
ebook editions on Amazon. A Heat Wave in the Hellers and Other Doorways
(omnibus of Jaydium and Northlight) are 2.99, everything else is 0.99. Enjoy!
Let's face it, the national news has been anything but inspiring. Nevertheless, we shall persist in supporting one another, our families and communities, and in writing -- and reading! -- great books.
First, the writing news:
DAW, my publisher, plans to release The Laran Gambit in 2021. Stay tuned!
My agent has sold the audiobook rights for all my Darkover books (including The Laran Gambit) to Recorded Books. I'll let you know when there are more details.
I've resigned from Book View Café and my books are no longer available there. If you have previously purchased one and need to download it again, you should be able to do so, but if you run into any problems, let me know and I'll make sure you get it.
I plan on offering special sale prices at other venues from time to time, and of course my annual winter giveaways. Meanwhile, almost all of my books are available through Overdrive at your public library. Enjoy!
Now, an illustrated Journey of (Red) Sonja the Kitten
Here is Sonja in fall 2018, about a month old. She's just been picked up by the shelter. Poor thing is covered in ringworm, half-starved, and terrified. They were going to euthanize her the same day, but a worker realized she was a Maine Coon and called a private shelter that specializes in that breed...
Here she is after being with us a few months. The ringworm is cleared up, but she still looks a bit dazed.
And here she is today, fully aware of how gorgeous she is, affectionate, playful, and bursting with personality.
The Good Luck Girls, by Charlotte Nicole Davis (Tor Teen)
I gave up on this
book about a quarter through. The opening really grabbed me – the dystopic
world with its resonance of the Wild West, “dustblood” girls raised in a
brothel, drugged so they would not resist their boorish “brags,” the autocratic
madam, the girls being tattooed with magic symbols that not only identify them
but flare into agony when covered up. And sweet, trusting Clementine, about to
entertain her first customer. When she resists being raped, she accidentally
kills him (and although she does not know it, he is the son of a very powerful,
wealthy family who will be bent on revenge). Her sister, Aster, concocts an
escape attempt as the alternative to execution. These are young teenagers, so
of course their planning is haphazard, but they manage to get away, aided by
the madam’s favorite and a pair of other girls. I was with them, entranced,
every step of the way.
That, alas, was
where I ran into obstacles. If I trust a writer, I can immerse myself in the
story, accepting details I do not necessarily understand as part of the world.
After all, our own world isn’t always explicable or consistent. But when I’m
jarred out of the narrative by a detail I know isn’t right, it can be hard to
resume the flow. That happened when the girls had stolen some horses and were
about to flee. The author had them cracking the reins to signal the horses to
move forward. Anyone who’s spent any time with horses knows this is nonsense.
All it accomplishes is futile arm-waving and an annoyed horse. There followed,
in close succession, equally implausible details – horses having black eyes
(they don’t), galloping through the night (a sure way to kill a horse), and
stabbing a mountain lion between the shoulders (please check an anatomy chart
for why this is not an effective strategy). By this time, I was questioning
everything in the narrative. The writer had lost my confidence.
Oh, what a luscious,
heart-rending, beautifully crafted book this is! In the world of warring island
nations, the most valuable commodity – one that comprises the great war ships
that grant naval supremacy – is the bones of sea dragons. The supply is
limited, for the dragons are believed to be extinct, so the bones are salvaged
and repurposed to for the great ships of the fleet. Then there are the black
ships, the ships of the condemned and untouchable. Fisherman’s son Joron is one
of those wretched souls, sentenced as “shipwife” (captain) to a black ship and
determined to stay as drunk as possible. His fortunes change with the arrival
of “Lucky” Meas, an extraordinary leader and daughter of the ruler, although
why she might have been sentenced to a black ship, Joron has no idea. As Meas
trains and then inspires the dissolute crew, Joron goes from grudging obedience
to trust, even as he learns her true mission. For after centuries a sea dragon
has been spotted, and the contest for its precious bones threatens to plunge
the world into unending war.
There is so much to
love about this book, but for me it was the language that enchanted me the
most. I found myself slowing down and repeating passages just to savor them. In
many senses, the narrative text itself was a character and gateway to this
world.
Tide Child’s colour showed he [in this world ships are
masculine] was a last-chance ship, the crew condemned to death. The only chance
anyone had for a return to life was through some heroic act, something so
undeniably great that the acclaim of the people would see their crimes expunged
and their life restored to them. Such hope made desperate deckchilder, and
desperate deckchilder were fierce. Though if any forgiveness had been offered
to the dead it had not been in Joron’s lifetime, or in his father’s lifetime
before him.
At some point this
crew of the violent and the lost had decided that Meas could be trusted, and if
she kept her side of the bargain then they would keep theirs. It was an odd
thing, thought Joron, to find a purpose in such a dark place as a black ship.
Superb
world-building, compelling characters, and carefully nuanced tension mark Bone Ships as a book to treasure. And
there will be more – I can hardly wait!
Unless you write in secret and never show anyone your
stories, sooner or later someone will give you feedback. It could be a relative
or classmate, or the editor of the school literary magazine. Or friend with
whom you’ve swapped fanfic. What you want to hear, of course, is that they
loved it. And chances are that’s what they’ll say, either because they’d love
anything you wrote or they’re so impressed that anyone they know wrote
anything, or they have no idea how to evaluate a piece of writing. If your
friends are still in high school, they might have a passing acquaintance with
writing book reports, but that’s not helpful in critiquing a manuscript.
I think this stage in the development of writers, readers,
and reviewers is just fine. We all start out with boundless enthusiasm and
undeveloped critical ability. When a writer is just starting out, praise and
encouragement are a whole lot more helpful than disapproval. Case in point: the
story of the Wranglers and the Stranglers (attributed to Arthur Gordon in A Touch of Wonder). Various versions run
something like this:
A group of male college students with literary talent
formed a club. They met regularly to read and critique each other's work. These
men were merciless with one another. They dissected the most minute literary
expression into a hundred pieces. They were heartless, tough, even mean, in
their criticism. They were so relentless in their criticism that their group
became known as “The Stranglers.”
Not to be outdone, the women of literary talent in the
university were determined to start a club of their own, one comparable to the
Stranglers. They called themselves the "Wranglers." They, too, read
their works to one another. But there was one great difference: the feedback
was positive. Sometimes there was almost no criticism at all. Every effort,
even the most feeble one, was encouraged.
Twenty years later of all the bright young men in the
Stranglers, not one had made a significant literary accomplishment of any kind.
From the Wranglers had come six or more successful writers, some of national
renown such as Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, who wrote The Yearling.
Talent between the two? Probably the same. Level of
education? Not much difference. But the Stranglers strangled, while the
Wranglers were determined to give each other a lift. The Stranglers promoted an
atmosphere of contention and self-doubt. The Wranglers highlighted the
best, not the worst.
That’s what we need to get started: kindness and
encouragement. Eventually, however, most of us encounter situations in which we
benefit from critical feedback in order to overcome our own creative blind
spots. And once we’ve started publishing, whether with a traditional publisher
or self-publishing, we enter a new realm: our work being reviewed.
