Things I Learned at the SCBWI Winter Conference

You asked, so I promised posts about the SCBWI Conference.  Here's my brain dump.

This is what I learned about the children's market.  And I apologize for those of you who write for adults but perhaps some of these learnings are still relevant.

I realize what is to follow isn't the style I usually employ on this blog.  I don't like to make grand statements like this and I promise things will be back to normal tomorrow. 

But.

I heard all of this straight from the mouths of smart people (I promise).  Anything I relay here is something I just kept hearing again and again.   

(Oh my goodness, Melissa, get on with it.)

(Oh my goodness, Melissa, you're talking in 3rd person.)

* Middle Grade is the thing.  I repeatedly heard editors and agents say they are actively looking for strong middle grade stories. If you're writing middle grade, this is your cue to smile.

* This is nothing new. If you're here, you're mostly like already there.  But the blog, website, facebook, twitter, get-yourself-a-platform thing is still...well...a thing.

* There was a lot of talk about enhanced e-books for kids and what this is going to mean for picture books.  Print picture books are still seen as the primary way young kids are going to read but publishing houses see dollar signs for e-books.  As an 'also' (not an instead).

* Everyone likes to throw around the word transmedia. This is something I heard tossed around in the toy industry about two years ago. I guess it has made its way to the publishing industry.  Basically, no one knows what it means but people like to say it.  You should say it.

* When you send out a manuscript to an agent or editor, they do not want be your first reader.  They prefer to be your 5th or 6th reader.

* Agents and editors really want to be able to explain a book to everyone they meet in one sentence. Thus, writers should be able to explain their books to everyone they meet in one sentence.

* Lists at the publishing houses are much, much smaller. Everyone in the industry is acting in a very conservative way right now. It's a 'duh' fact but I feel it is important to note.

* There was a small rumbling about a potential resurgance in contemporary/realistic fiction. I say a small rumbling because it wasn't as emphatic as the middle grade sentiment I kept hearing (over and over) but I definitely heard it more than once.

* Holes in the market:  Middle Grade (did I mention that?), compelling chapter books for grades K-2, and non-fiction for young people (though the latter is a very, very, tough sell.  You are forewarned.)

* And the usual.  I know you've heard it before but it bears repeating. Never write just to fill the hole.  Don't write to a trend. Write what you love.  Love what you write.

In the Center of New York City, Fifth Avenue

There is so much to say about the SCBWI conference I attended over the weekend.  But I'm still digesting, still thinking it all through.  Look for more posts throughout the week.

In the meantime, I'm about a week behind in everything, so I leave you with a visual of last weekend.  Unable to sit still (it's a problem, I'm working on it), I walked 56 blocks down the heart of Fifth Avenue, something I hadn't done in years.  

As a New Yorker, there are areas to avoid unless you must go there out of necessity.  SoHo. Times Square.  Macy's.  Rockefellar Plaza.  To name a few.  Fifth Avenue is another.  Unless you have a relative or friend in town, it can be overwhelming, lined with tourists window shopping, figure skating, waiting park-side for carriage rides, getting to elevators that will take them to the Empire State Building or the Top of the Rock.

I am so often looking to hide away, to sit in tiny restaurants tucked on named streets, to find quiet along the river or under a bridge at the northernmost tip of Central park.  In a city like New York, to survive, you must walk to the edge of things.  That's where you find running paths and quiet playgrounds.  It's where astronomical rents fall, too many blocks away from transportation, a sanctuary from the office towers stretching to the sky.

And so, sometimes, I forget what it means to be at the center.  To get lost in the rush.  To never know darkness under all those bright lights.  

Going there last weekend, being reminded of all that, was, to sound as sentimental as possible, magical.  That's the only word I can think to use.

Thoughts on John Green's The Fault In Our Stars

Yesterday, I mentioned that a certain sentence in John Green's The Fault In Our Stars struck me.  Today, I'll say that many things struck me while reading this novel and it doesn't seem fair to have highlighted just one sentence.

But I believe there are all kinds of copyright laws that prohibit me from copying the entire book in this blog post.  So...I won't.

All this, to say: there is far too much to say.  All of it said better by Green himself.

What impresses me, about all of his books, is the way he portrays young people.  They are always wildly intelligent, sharp individuals who seek answers to the big, important questions about the world they live in.    

As a teenager, I always felt, among all the adults I knew, there were two kinds.  Those that were amused by me, as if I was some kind of walking reality show.  And those that genuinely thought I was a real person with interesting thoughts and ideas.  I still feel that way, even though I am technically an adult.  And I believe that Green falls into the latter category.

He respects the characters he creates.  And while they sometimes act with gestures that seem too grande, while they engage in impossibly witty banter and ask huge philosophical questions, I accept and respect them too. 

It's been a long time since I left a book feeling as if my heart is so full it could burst.  This is one of those rare moments.

If you've read it, I'm curious to hear your thoughts.

A Familiar Sentence?

I am in the middle of John Green's 'The Fault In Our Stars'. And perhaps it is because I am unable to sleep anymore, exahusted all day, wide awake as soon as my head hits the pillow, then ready for a deep sleep as soon as the day begins...but I was struck by this  line:

As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.

Personally, I think that is a beautiful line, perfect for its simplicity.

But when I told Tyler, he thought it sounded cliche, a line he's heard a million times before.

Perhaps the simplicity of the sentence makes it feel familiar?

But I really don't believe I've ever heard love described that way. 

What do you think?

The Muddy Flat

I think of spin class today.  I think of the muddy flat road we're told to experience.  It's not quite a hill.  But it's not easy breezy.  It's not enough to leave you choking for breath but it's enough to peak your heart rate and leave an ache in your legs. 

In this writing journey, I often feel as if we're all on the muddy flat for extended periods of time.  I hear these terrible stories, the kind that are supposed to inspire me or make me pump my fist in solidarity but, instead, leave me feeling sick. I wrote ten novels before my first got published!  I got 100 rejections before I landed an agent!  No one wanted to publish my book for years...then I won a Pulitzer!

I don't know.  Something about these stories makes the journey feel less like an uphill battle and more like a neverending muddy flat, tires trudging through the sludge.

Lately, I'm not interested in looking through this murky lens, feeling powerless as I let others determine my fate or watch others in my position get knocked down.

Because last night, I sat at my little desk, writing, and I met somebody new.  I put words together, at first clunky, smoothed them out, and thought they might not be porcelain, they might not be gold, but they'll do.  I felt the nervous excitement of a new world, its people stomping across the page. 

I was where I needed to be, all nestled up inside what it's really about.

And I thought, screw this stupid sludge, this off-road drool.  I'm not fixated on the muddy flat.  I am flying straight through.

On Networking, Attending the SCBWI Winter Conference and Eating Hot Pot

On Saturday, I will attend the SCBWI International Winter Conference here in New York City.  I've never attended a writing conference before and I'm terribly excited.  I'm trying to imagine what it will be like to attend a conference with a subject I am interested in.  All the conferences I have been to in the past have been mandatory for my job.

I'm not very good at networking.  I'll say this as elegantly as possible:  I suck at it.  When people are thrown into a room with the expectation to 'network', it feels fake to me, like wearing a poorly disguised veil.

For me, chit-chat is boring and I want no part of it.  Most people don't suspect this of me but I can see right through to anyone's crap.  If someone wants something from me, I prefer they come right out and say it.  When I want something, I prefer to do the same.

But I know it doesn't work like that.  People have to go on golf outings, attend business lunches, stand with a glass of wine in one hand, a pig-in-the-blanket in the other.

Once, I went out for Hot Pot (basically chinese fondue) with a friend.  The entire meal, she barked orders in her native language while the rest of us sat back, feeling as if we were a bunch of mis-behaved children with our ruler-slapping teacher. 

She explained that American's are wishy-washy, too polite, too passive.  In her culture, it is necessary to be direct about everything.  For example, if you receive the wrong order (as we did) there's none of this: "Oh, I'm sorry, can you please take this back? It wasn't what we ordered.  Can we have this instead?"  It is: "No. I do not want this. Give us green beans now."  It is not impolite.  It's just the way it's done.

I believe I could survive quite well in a culture like that.  A place where people do not beat around the bush.  It sounds efficient.

I'd like to attend a conference where the networking runs a little bit like Hot Pot.

But, in the meantime, while I still live in a society full of mandatory and polite chatter, I've decided to approach this conference differently.  Personally, I like to meet new people.  I like to talk with others.

I've decided not to worry about the networking aspect at all.  I plan to concentrate on the meeting-new-people aspect and avoid the veil all together.

Thoughts on networking? Are you attending this conference?  Please, please let me know if you are.

But It's Snowing!

When I woke up this morning, I searched frantically for my glasses so I could run to the window and see this view of snow.

I have never considered snow bothersome.  

During childhood, it meant that I didn't have to go to school.  In college, it meant I could sled down Libe slope.  When I lived in Boston, I was within walking distance of my graduate classes.  And as I entered the working world in New York City, I never worried about whether or not I could get to work.  The subway runs, my friends.  It. Always. Runs.  

I recognize that for some people snow is a real inconvenience.  I have never seen it that way.

So, this morning, I leapt down the stairs to look out the front door and my little two year old neighbor, Margot, came out in her pajamas.  

It's snowing!  I told her, excitedly.

She came to the door with me, peeked her head out and said nothing.

Look at it!  Isn't it pretty? Let's go play in it! I said, silently praying that this dear child would give me an excuse to play in snow.

She turned her attention to her scooter in the foyer.  Do you like my scooter? she asked.

Yes.  I like your scooter.  But it's snowing!  

I'm going to eat my breakfast.  

Well then.