Jean Craighead George, prolific author of books that have inspired both me and my son (My Side of the Mountain, anyone?), passed away at the age of 92.
Her writing is a precursor of the gritty action-adventures, often featuring tough, young women, that sell so well today. (I just finished Divergent, by Veronica Roth, review TK.) I think there's a pretty straight line between JCG and dystopian fantasies.
Thanks, Jean Craighead George, for what you wrote, and for the inventiveness you inspired.
About Me
- Steve Shea
- A 40-ish publisher (editor, project manager, etc.), husband, and father of an even number of offspring, I grew up, or failed to, reading fantasy and sci-fi. I still enjoy reading, and now am trying to write. My favorite books include YA fantasy, manga, biography, and advice to authors. I'm also a former history major/grad student/high school teacher and assessment writer. Now I work for a school supplement publisher, specializing in high-low chapter books. I spend a lot of my time controlling reading levels. At night, I cut loose and use long words. W00t!
Friday, May 18, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
return to a theme - Pretties by Scott Westerfeld
Close on the heels of Wintergirls, I read Scott Westerfeld's Pretties, the second in his series that eerily twists a major theme from Wintergirls around a strong sci-fi premise, and all too literally shapes the characters to fit the scene. There's a one-two punch going on here: Westerfeld created a compelling world for his characters to live in, and characters who stand a good chance to survive and even change it.
In many ways, I thought Pretties outshone the first in the tetralogy, Uglies. The first book in a science-fiction or fantasy series always has the advantage of the reader's wide-eyed wonder. Janet Rowling dithered on her way to introducing the main character, and it worked, because the wizarding world was so fun to watch, especially how an awful muggle like Uncle Vernon interacted with it. JRR Tolkien shows us the placid Shire and introduces the simple hobbits, and simpler dwarves, long before moving on to a plot. And Westerfeld's alt-future world is compelling, but his writing in the second book feels stronger.
One of the fun developments is the protagonist Tally's increasingly complicated relationships, with her friends, her allies, and her society's authorities. Part of the complication is due to the rules of the society Westerfeld set up, in which a central authority tinkers with perception and memory. When this point is abstracted, the premise sounds almost like a postmodern sociology text, but it works well as a plot element. It's also reminiscent of Philip K. Dick, though much friendlier and more action-packed. Dick's characters spent more time in a fog of self-delusion, or believing they were deluded, or not knowing something basic like if they were human, whereas Westerfeld's fly around on hoverboards and have major, dramatic confrontations.
Still, the themes of body image, friendship, and betrayal will resonate with teen readers today. He's cleverly worked the familiar into the strange, and halfway through, this feels like a series I'll continue to enjoy.
In many ways, I thought Pretties outshone the first in the tetralogy, Uglies. The first book in a science-fiction or fantasy series always has the advantage of the reader's wide-eyed wonder. Janet Rowling dithered on her way to introducing the main character, and it worked, because the wizarding world was so fun to watch, especially how an awful muggle like Uncle Vernon interacted with it. JRR Tolkien shows us the placid Shire and introduces the simple hobbits, and simpler dwarves, long before moving on to a plot. And Westerfeld's alt-future world is compelling, but his writing in the second book feels stronger.
One of the fun developments is the protagonist Tally's increasingly complicated relationships, with her friends, her allies, and her society's authorities. Part of the complication is due to the rules of the society Westerfeld set up, in which a central authority tinkers with perception and memory. When this point is abstracted, the premise sounds almost like a postmodern sociology text, but it works well as a plot element. It's also reminiscent of Philip K. Dick, though much friendlier and more action-packed. Dick's characters spent more time in a fog of self-delusion, or believing they were deluded, or not knowing something basic like if they were human, whereas Westerfeld's fly around on hoverboards and have major, dramatic confrontations.
Still, the themes of body image, friendship, and betrayal will resonate with teen readers today. He's cleverly worked the familiar into the strange, and halfway through, this feels like a series I'll continue to enjoy.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Do you have any more words like “searing"?
In Wintertgirls,
Laurie Halse Anderson disassembles a very troubled teenager. It’s almost a
therapy session, but one page into it, we can’t help but like and almost admire
her protagonist, Lia. And soon, very soon, be terribly afraid of her.
Lia’s very good at convincing herself that she’s wrong. Her
interior battles take place in interior monologues with strikeout text, bursts
of self-loathing, and very bad decisions. Her outward impulses are generous and
thoughtful. However, she is trapped in an echo chamber that is coming to light
more these days.
She is dying from words.
The brilliance of the book is that it makes for a great
read. I’m resisting any adjectives like “searing” because they fall short, and
are overused. There is a fishhook quality to this book. I flinched on every
page, and couldn’t escape needing to know the outcome. The bait was constantly
replenished, too – deft characterization (I knew who Elijah was the moment he
appeared), hard scenery (every place is a place we’ve seen, often in pain), and
high tension.
Anderson’s book is more than brilliant. It’s also good. It’s
part of what should be a national conversation about the terrifying new stresses
our social and media environment puts on teens. Maybe we shouldn’t complain so
much. Our distant ancestors lived, if they were fortunate, to the ripe, old age
of 25 or 30. Kids today (don’t read this in a “get off my lawn” voice), at
least in most of the developed world, do not want for physical comfort, food,
educational opportunities. The disparities of wealth and access to power that
do exist are even highlighted by some as examples of how wealthy we are.
So why should we be concerned with girls who have negative
self-images? what is the difference between body image issues and self-esteem?
Low self-esteem weeds the winners from the losers. This is
very useful if you need to cull the children in order to have enough food for
adults, and if the adults all have to be hard as nails. We have drifted from
that – well, for some, it’s an ideal – to the principle that happiness is a
human’s right, at least to pursue, if not obtain. And if we’re all equal (again
with the Enlightenment ideals), then we should stop culling ther children, and
let them develop in their happy differences.
In so many respects, this works. We have consumer-protection
laws that reduce the incidence of lead in children’s toys because it’s bad for
them. We stopped accepting child labor (onshore) because we felt bad for the
kids. There are foundations today focused on evening out the opportunities in
schools, because we feel bad for the kids.
And bullying is making the news increasingly as a threat to
our kids. It has always existed. It’s long been a concern of parents, more
recently one of politicans, to restrict it, or to ignore it as natural, a way
of sorting out the bosses from the followers.
One strain of bullying affects teenage girls’ self-image.
And it’s not only bullying by kids against kids. It’s bullying by our entire
society against kids. The reason, I think, lies in the use of concept marketing
instead of product marketing.
Do you ever see a fat person drinking soda in a commercial?
Do you ever see sick people going to the beach in paradise on an airline
commercial? How about car ads? Drug rehab center ads on late-night tv?
We ingest a steady diet of these images, and tney become us.
We are what we eat. And the difference between the ideal and the real causes
pain to some, and is a stick others (bullies) use against them.
Anderson’s Lia is that girl. She’s trapped. She doesn’t need
the bikini models to tormet her anymore. She is so far past them, she can taunt
them instead.
If you can face Lia’s demons, you ought to give this book a
read.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Bad luck for paper-bound publishers?
Alex Knapp at Forbes.com asks, "Are Apps the Future of Book Publishing?"
I think he begins by assuming the affirmative, and proceeds by asking which type of app.
I work in the paper-bound book publishing industry. I don't have a e-reader or tablet device.* I'm actually shopping for a bigger bookcase.
[*partly because my kids would never let me use it]
Knapp points out that something I've been wondering about since Myst is coming to fruition - a book type narrative that readers generate interactively. FWIW, I think that's a different type of literature from the dominant sale-scaled fiction narrative today, the novel.
(I know, Knapp didn't ask if enhanced ebooks would replace novels, but that seems to be the real, underlying question. Who really thinks that college students in 2020 will have 40-pound textbooks that are out of date when printed?)
Yes, this makes me worry about, first, the future of literacy (will we all require enhancements as well as phonics instruction?), second, my publishing job, and third, what I will do with my new, big bookcase in seven years.
It does not make me worry about the publishing industry. Boo-hoo. The fat cats have to adjust. Don't worry, they're already figuring out how to get authors and customers to foot the entire bill.
Maybe I should assemble a group of really creative people to publish enhanced content. We'll have to come up with a new genre, since "novel" is taken, "enhanced novel" sounds creepy, and "e-book" sounds so pre-millennial.
Suggestions?
I think he begins by assuming the affirmative, and proceeds by asking which type of app.
I work in the paper-bound book publishing industry. I don't have a e-reader or tablet device.* I'm actually shopping for a bigger bookcase.
[*partly because my kids would never let me use it]
Knapp points out that something I've been wondering about since Myst is coming to fruition - a book type narrative that readers generate interactively. FWIW, I think that's a different type of literature from the dominant sale-scaled fiction narrative today, the novel.
(I know, Knapp didn't ask if enhanced ebooks would replace novels, but that seems to be the real, underlying question. Who really thinks that college students in 2020 will have 40-pound textbooks that are out of date when printed?)
Yes, this makes me worry about, first, the future of literacy (will we all require enhancements as well as phonics instruction?), second, my publishing job, and third, what I will do with my new, big bookcase in seven years.
It does not make me worry about the publishing industry. Boo-hoo. The fat cats have to adjust. Don't worry, they're already figuring out how to get authors and customers to foot the entire bill.
Maybe I should assemble a group of really creative people to publish enhanced content. We'll have to come up with a new genre, since "novel" is taken, "enhanced novel" sounds creepy, and "e-book" sounds so pre-millennial.
Suggestions?
Monday, April 2, 2012
note on breadth, depth
When I started blogging (was: "publishing," but that sounded like aggrandizement) thoughts about what I had read, the idea was to share the breadth of things. But who wants to read lists? (The Pillow-Book of Sei Shonagon notwithstanding - really, you should read this, and the lists are among the best points.)
Depth takes time, however, and I've been both reading and (gasp!) writing, and now that soccer season is starting, I'm coaching, too, with no letup in yardwork, commuting, or being Dad, none of which I'm great (deep) at, but breadth takes time, too.
As for breadth, I've recently (this morning) discovered behavioral economist Dan Ariely's blog, which is so well written I think I might enjoy reading more about economics.
Here are some of my other recent readings, scored on a scale of 1 (why did I bother?) to 10 (how did I live without it?):
Depth takes time, however, and I've been both reading and (gasp!) writing, and now that soccer season is starting, I'm coaching, too, with no letup in yardwork, commuting, or being Dad, none of which I'm great (deep) at, but breadth takes time, too.
As for breadth, I've recently (this morning) discovered behavioral economist Dan Ariely's blog, which is so well written I think I might enjoy reading more about economics.
Here are some of my other recent readings, scored on a scale of 1 (why did I bother?) to 10 (how did I live without it?):
- Scott Westerfield, Uglies. 8/10. The protagonist doesn't know she's living in a nightmare, then discovers she is, then decides to unlearn that in order to rescue everyone else. Same character age (reader appeal) as Hunger Games, but far less violent. Still, the materials is directly linked to post-puberty issues, so I don't imagine 13 year-olds would be terribly interested. Anyone who wants to disagree, please comment!
- Orson Scott Card, "Salvage," (Wastelands). 7/10. Unreliable narrator, deep secondary characters. Unremarkable postapocalyptic scenario, but well fleshed-out. The strength here is the characters' interaction with the history and conditions of their situation. I'm embarrassed I haven't yet read Ender's Game. Going to remedy soon
- Paulo Bacigalupi, "Bread and Bombs," (Wastelands). 9/10. Wowowow. What is human? Will we survive the changes we've wrought on the world, and if we do, will we still be human? And if we aren't, will we still be able to write like this?
- Hiroyuki Asada, Tegami Bachi (Letter Bee) vol. 3. 7/10. Asada's art is so wonderful, the world he creates so stark and mesmerizing, and the names he chooses so silly, that I've found if I just accept the silly names (Gauche Suede? Lag Seeing? Jiggy Pepper? No, really...), everything else just falls into place.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Aftertime, by Sophie Littlefield
Aftertime is a blow-to-the-gut, first of a series by veteran mystery writer Sophie Littlefield. The world she creates is a few years or a few months in our future, but vastly changed. Cass, the protagonist, arrives lost and confused, acts in desperation and fury, squeaking through conflicts and narrowly escaping moral danger and worse. Her heart is wracked by guilt; her body is ravaged by injury and disease; her mind is clouded by both. Cass’ way is uncertain, but she is driven to pursue it full tilt.
The physical descriptions are at times evocative and purely physical—the smell of the miracle plant “kaysev” cooking, for instance—while others are emotionally wrenching to read. This is not a book for children, even the fairly big kids. The frank and unsentimental descriptions of sex, of violence, of social decay are woven into the fabric of the book. They carry the plot along. They are much of what Littlefield wants us to see about Cass.
As a result, reading Aftertime did not go quickly for me. I generally prefer somewhat younger YA fare, or speculative fiction, science-fiction, or fantasy with more magic spells and telepathic dragons. Still, I could feel the story building, the protagonist changing, the world coming into clearer, and often painful, focus. And as it did, I felt more drawn to the story, as draining an experience as it was.
The end is cathartic. It has elements in common with the end of an action flick—I half-expected to hear the music from the end of Terminator II: Judgment Day, or see plumes of evaporating dry ice meant to convince me of a fire. The disturbing parts of the story were prelude to the resolution, but it’s a resolution that leaves the way clear to sequels. There is much in Cass’ world left to accomplish—to repair, to redress—and Cass is the woman for the job.
---
[note: The author very politely points out that this is not "YA" - I've seen a lot of definitions of Young Adult lit, and this is very mature for kids, but if your young adults are twentysomethings, this is just about right; it's also okay for older people who want to feel like twentysomethings, though we have to watch out for heart stress - this is pretty powerful stuff.]
---
[note: The author very politely points out that this is not "YA" - I've seen a lot of definitions of Young Adult lit, and this is very mature for kids, but if your young adults are twentysomethings, this is just about right; it's also okay for older people who want to feel like twentysomethings, though we have to watch out for heart stress - this is pretty powerful stuff.]
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Bakuman vol. 8
I put the seventh volume of Bakuman down around November of last year, and I almost forgot how much I enjoyed it. Fortunately, I've got an Amazon gift card, so I can enjoy the convenience without the guilt of actually sending "Booktopus, Inc." any money.
Author Tsugumi Ohba and illustrator Takeshi Obata teamed up before for the big hit series Death Note, of which I was aware, but not particularly a fan. In this series, they perform an almost postmodern twist, exploring the experiences of a young author-illustrator pair publishing manga in the real-world magazine Shonen Jump, published by real-world publisher Shueisha.
It's fun seeing behind the scenes in the business while enjoying all the stagecraft of manga at the same time. In this case, it's a combination of teen angst, romance, and social drama, with 15-year-old protagonist Moritaka suddenly - unexpectedly even to him - blurting out a marriage proposal to Miho, a girl he's admired from afar for years. Just as unexpectedly, Miho accepts (through her rather grand house's intercom system, no less), but on one condition: they put off even talking in person until they both reach their goals.
Miho is an aspiring seiyuu (voice actress), and possible screen actress, and Moritaka is an aspiring mangaka.
All this takes place in an avalanche of rash decisions that walks a fine line between realistically badly thought out teenage planning and crazy fantasy.
Moritaka's writing partner is Takagi, a wise-cracking high-achiever who's really tired of being admired for getting good grades. He gets the ball rolling at the beginning of the series - bysuggesting he and Moritaka team up blackmailing Moritaka into teaming up with him in the first place, and then that they go talk to Miho about their plans - and provides plenty of impetus to the plot in each volume.
As of volume 8, Takagi's girlfriend Kaya (who goes casually by her first name Miyoshi most of the time) is my favorite character. She doesn't get as much "screen time" as the other leads, but in compensation, packs a punch, often literally. Kaya is fiercely loyal, emotionally mercurial, considered tomboyish and not pretty (hard to tell in the drawings, which make her look tomboyish, voluptuous, and cute all at once), but she proves to be not only the glue holding together the friendships of some of the leads, but also a catalyst in expanding the circle of friends in unlikely ways.
I got the delivery a couple of days ago, and read the whole thing last night. I waited so long to order it, volume 9 was ready, too, so I have something more to read this weekend.
Author Tsugumi Ohba and illustrator Takeshi Obata teamed up before for the big hit series Death Note, of which I was aware, but not particularly a fan. In this series, they perform an almost postmodern twist, exploring the experiences of a young author-illustrator pair publishing manga in the real-world magazine Shonen Jump, published by real-world publisher Shueisha.
It's fun seeing behind the scenes in the business while enjoying all the stagecraft of manga at the same time. In this case, it's a combination of teen angst, romance, and social drama, with 15-year-old protagonist Moritaka suddenly - unexpectedly even to him - blurting out a marriage proposal to Miho, a girl he's admired from afar for years. Just as unexpectedly, Miho accepts (through her rather grand house's intercom system, no less), but on one condition: they put off even talking in person until they both reach their goals.
Miho is an aspiring seiyuu (voice actress), and possible screen actress, and Moritaka is an aspiring mangaka.
All this takes place in an avalanche of rash decisions that walks a fine line between realistically badly thought out teenage planning and crazy fantasy.
Moritaka's writing partner is Takagi, a wise-cracking high-achiever who's really tired of being admired for getting good grades. He gets the ball rolling at the beginning of the series - by
As of volume 8, Takagi's girlfriend Kaya (who goes casually by her first name Miyoshi most of the time) is my favorite character. She doesn't get as much "screen time" as the other leads, but in compensation, packs a punch, often literally. Kaya is fiercely loyal, emotionally mercurial, considered tomboyish and not pretty (hard to tell in the drawings, which make her look tomboyish, voluptuous, and cute all at once), but she proves to be not only the glue holding together the friendships of some of the leads, but also a catalyst in expanding the circle of friends in unlikely ways.
I got the delivery a couple of days ago, and read the whole thing last night. I waited so long to order it, volume 9 was ready, too, so I have something more to read this weekend.
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