I Think I’ve Figured Out What’s Wrong With YA

Photo by lil artsy on Pexels.com

A couple of weeks ago, I was in the library collecting Muffin’s holds, and I saw that Adam Silvera had a new book out, and I remembered that he’s on my list of authors-I’ve-never-gotten-around-to-reading, so I picked the title up. I started it later that day, and within the first 20 pages, I had an epiphany, and flipped back to the acknowledgements to check something, and my suspicions were confirmed.

The acknowledgements read like a literal Who’s Who in Modern YA Publishing: “Thanks to Cassandra Clare…Holly Black…Leigh Bardugo…Marie Liu…Angie Thomas…Becky Abertalli…” The accolades finished with the author’s gratitude that he’d “finally written the book 15-year-old me needed.” And that phrase made a big piece of the puzzle click into place.

For a few years now, it’s really confounded me that publication of YA titles — a genre that was basically sidelined for generations, and suddenly exploded about 2010 — is huger than ever, but the average age of the YA reader is, in fact, about 27.

I’ve been trying to figure out why I, as someone who works with kids, would not recommend a good chunk of YA to parents I know. Why 9th and 10th graders are so invested in series that are technically below their reading level. How we went from Stephenie Meyer and Suzanne Collins taking the world by storm to people rolling their eyes and being dismissive of the genre.

The answer hit me with: “…the book 15-year-old me needed.”

I Googled it — Adam Silvera is 34 years old. So, when he was a teenager, the world was a very different place. And yet, the first chapter of his latest title described an early aughts’ adolescent experience. And this, I believe, is precisely why the majority of sales for YA books is among millenials — because they can relate.

I’m not so old that I don’t really remember being in high school. Yes, what life is like for teens right now is quite different from how it was for me; but some universal truths remain. You know you’re not still a little kid, and generally you don’t want to be; but you aren’t at all comfortable with the idea “you’re becoming a man/a woman,” when you feel totally unprepared for anything close to adulthood. You want to be treated with the respect that should come from the parents/teachers claiming to recognize your increased abilities and sense of independence. But you don’t want the fate of everything to be on your shoulders; when push comes to shove, you want the grownups to fix it.

No 17-year-old truly wants to be the Chosen One. This is why The Hunger Games, The Maze Runner, and Divergent didn’t have staying power among the supposed target audience. It’s why the ending to Twilight flopped so hard — what sweet-sixteen fandom wants to see the uncool girl become a super-awesome vampire, only to…get married and have a kid?

Here’s the major problem with 30-and-40-somethings writing YA for their retrospective younger selves: Teens today don’t connect. Adults looking back have the advantage of already having completed their journey, they know who they are and what they want. Very, very few high school seniors are certain in their career choice, their future spouse, hell, even what they’re going to have for lunch.

So, why do publishers keep encouraging authors in a genre aimed at ages 13-19 to write stories with protagonists who act like adults?

I’ve posted in the past about the epidemic of dead, clueless, or just terrible parents in YA. It’s a trope that’s become a vehicle for (lazily) explaining why on paper a character was born after Obama was elected, but can find their way around town without asking Alexa for directions, balance a checkbook (“Non-existent Mom, what’s a checkbook?”), fix a vacuum on the fritz, and cook chicken fettucine alfredo for four.

Is it because we were “latchkey kids”? Did we develop such a resentment towards the people who were supposed to be raising us — and apparently weren’t? — that we decided all our fictional imprints would be Special Snowflakes who just declared, “Well, I may as well save the world, since nobody else is going to!”

Not that there aren’t authors connecting with young readers. Percy Jackson still resonates with today’s tweens. Many graphic novel series aimed at middle schoolers are leaving impressions on older students. In YA and MG there’s been an explosion of authentic diverse stories, from writers of all sorts of ethnic groups and cultural backgrounds, and that’s just awesome.

So the question is obvious: What are newer authors doing that the more established, OG folks aren’t, according to the small bookdragons?

It could be as simple as the notion of writing for one’s past self — addressing a host of baggage that somebody who entered the world in the last decade and a half just won’t share — versus writing for a kid right now.

In the last couple of years, I’ve been reading a lot more MG (and some YA) graphic novels to Muffin — and the newer, the better, in my child’s opinion. So, here’s what I’ve noticed has changed from when White Fang was getting into chapter books:

Love triangles have pretty much vanished. (Thank God.) Maybe romance isn’t even a plot point. Even if parents are dead or absent, there is still some kind of reliable guardian or mentor. The MC’s friends tend to worry about getting caught skipping school, or not surviving the impending danger. Sibling relationships are back, in a big way. There are more disabled, bi-racial, bi-lingual, or queer characters, and it simply is part of who they are — no soapbox, just a natural part of the storytelling. Kids growing up in immigrant or non-traditional families see themselves here.

Because the premise makes sense, the readers are more inclined to believe that a tween or teen took the chance of rushing into danger when a family member or friend went missing, or asked for their help saving the world because of the secret superpower. The stakes are high, but in a way that fits: Many kids would, if they could, want to rescue their loved one from the monster.

It appears the tide of publishing is shifting — from marketing books too advanced for actual youth to works they in fact are enjoying. And this is a good thing! But here’s the next question: What happens to the OG YA authors?

I’ve already noticed many people known for writing “YA” (Veronica Roth immediately springs to mind) attempting to publish adult fiction instead. And…it isn’t going well. Debut adult novels by Holly Black and Cassandra Clare flopped with long-time fans. Leigh Bardugo’s and Marie Liu’s more recent forays into, respectively, dark academia and sci-fi have been met with middling reviews. V.E. Schwab’s attempt at juvenile fantasy was not a hit. Maggie Stiefvater cancelled the final instalment she planned to write in her latest series, because of how lukewarm the reception was.

Maybe it’s not about pushing writers into a different category. Maybe it’s about rebranding what they naturally write.

Maybe this is the perfect time for New Adult to officially become a genre in its own right.

And we can go back to focusing on making YA for, well, adolescents.

A Purveyor of Free Stuff

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

I am, unabashedly, what an internet ad about filing your taxes recently referred to as “a purveyor of free stuff.” It was an unskippable ad on YouTube during a CinemaSins binge, and after 15 seconds of viewing, I realized, “I resemble that remark.” The ad featured a young man who lived in a city and he apparently walked to a lot of places; he frequently passed items put out to the curb with a “Free” sign, and would bring many of these things home to his apartment. Yes, there were parts that were slightly unrealistic (like, seriously, some items just would not make it up those stairs), but as the guy decorated his small apartment with decent secondhand furniture, lamps, rugs, and knickknacks, I could absolutely relate.

It started after Covid lockdown; I’d find myself taking the long route home (since getting out of the house had become such a novelty), and as I took side streets and drove right at the speed limit, I looked around me. And as I did, I saw that more and more piles of cardboard boxes or plastic bins of clothes, books, dishes, toys, and various domestic items were hanging out on the sidewalks in front of people’s homes, a Sharpie-lettered “FREE!” piece of paper duct-taped to the nearest tree trunk. At first, I couldn’t imagine what was going on — why not just call the nearest thrift store and have them grab your unwanted objects? However, me being me, when I searched the internet for a reason to the new trend, I found several threads and articles explaining that thrift stores were overwhelmed. Everybody was taking the time at home to clean out their garages and basements and attics, and now there was literally no place to put it, since the thrift stores were taking on thousands of new items — while they’d been told to reduce open hours and staff and how many customers were in the building at one time. And after I learned this, I paid even more attention.

I started stopping at the curb on my way home; I’d take a few minutes to investigate the offerings, and see which houses were putting out actual junk that just should’ve been hauled to the dump, and which ones were simply wanting to offload their outgrown clothes/unused furniture/extra office supplies without the hassle of a yard sale. Then one day, I finally brought some of these offerings to my own home.

The tipping point for me came when I took Muffin to the park one afternoon, and saw one of the houses across the street was having an estate sale — just, for free. There were rows and rows of barely used linens, unpackaged curtains, dishes and lamps and small appliances, bunches of ottomans, nightstands, and kitchen chairs, boxes of stationery supplies and cookbooks and electronic accessories. I started packing towels, washcloths, flannel sheets, birthday cards, and one adorable magazine rack into my car, and topped it off with a pole lamp and a coffee table that screamed 1970s, but I did not care.

95% of those items I still use to this day.

No regrets.

At all.

It set off a pattern for the next 2 years of pulling over to the curb when I spot a pile of yard-sale-leftovers, ran-out-of-space-in-the-moving-truck stacks, or please-just-take-this-off-my-hands piles. It has helped me obtain much-needed day-to-day items that I definitely can’t afford new on my very meager budget. My grandest acquisition recently was a cat tree for Alex, which Alex loves.

I’ve found this hobby to be an interesting way to balance one’s karma as well. The clothes that don’t fit, the books that don’t hold our attention, or the storage devices that end up not pulling their weight in my cabinets or closets get donated to charities and non-profit organizations. Multiple times after doing this, in the next haul I’ll find something I’ve actually been looking for or hoping to get a replacement of. I know I’m not making a huge difference in the world by putting somebody else’s outdated paperbacks in a Little Free Library, or by passing on those Christmas mugs I’d never use, but I hope I do manage to bring a little joy to other lives.

Becoming a purveyor of free stuff has brought a lot of joy to mine.

Why We Need Monsters

You don’t have to be a fan of monster movies to have noticed they’re everywhere. For decades now, the staples of werewolves, vampires, trolls/ogres/wicked leprechauns, huge beasts of the ocean, and assorted otherworldly creatures have dominated our screens, and our minds. Since the beginning of recorded history, humans have always feared, and been fascinated by, these things that may or may not exist, that may or may not be coming for us in the dark of night. It’s no surprise we started making movies about them as soon as we were able to.

And although we’ve now made so many films about all kinds of monsters that the genre itself is seen as a living, breathing trope, we will, time and time again, keep coming back to it.

The question — asked for years by those misguided fools who don’t understand the allure — is, why. The answer is a lot more complex than non-fans may anticipate.

Reason One: Monsters are a tangible way to address intangible fears.

Unfortunately, there are plenty of things to be afraid of in the real world; and even more unfortunately, there are some things that we’re going to be afraid of even when we can’t pinpoint what it is. As someone with lifelong anxiety, I have lost sleep countless nights over everything from the sudden loss of a loved one to possibly forgetting to get milk on the way home. Spending a majority of my life also engrossed in the monster genre has meant I’ve developed unique coping techniques — such as pretending I’m preparing to go slay a cryptid while getting ready for an important meeting; or asking myself, “How would Van Helsing say it?” when trying to mentally strategize for an uncomfortable confrontation. I still have anxiety, and I don’t always get life right, but I have managed to tackle head-on some pretty major shit, and come out the other side victorious, while imagining my last name is Winchester, or Mulder.

Reason Two: Monsters make us feel more human.

Let’s face it — being a person is hard. It’s all too easy to get caught up in the grind of jobs, chores, errands, school, parenting, and all the other people stuff, and lose sight of why you do it all. Building relationships with each other and sharing our passions for our hobbies and interests is a big human thing, and looking for reasons to pursue your particular way of making the world just a little bit better add meaning to the whole endeavor. Watching monster movies helps us ponder the big questions, such as, “Just because we can doesn’t mean we should,” and, “When you’re gone, how do you want people to remember you?” Fictional characters can create monsters and unleash them on an innocent population — and it makes us feel good to know there are cryptid hunters ready to strike them down, so that the extra who runs a corner shop can continue going to work and coming home to kiss his kids good night. It gives us something to fight for.

And a lot of these stories also give us great tips for how to maintain our humanity should we be turned into monsters ourselves. The principles we need to gravitate back to when we start slipping too far away. What makes it worth keeping our darker impulses at bay.

Reason Three: Monsters give us an excuse to be naughty.

Since we’re talking about movies, meaning everything happens on a set, with props and special effects, and according to a script, the fact is, no one actually gets hurt; so this creates a specific brand of escapism. A perfectly ordinary — and nice — person can put on an elaborate costume and makeup and behave in truly terrible ways for 95 minutes, and there are no consequences. Artists can design entire cities being demolished, tons of people getting wiped out by a giant tentacle sweep, or an army of orcs laying waste to a field of goats just minding their own business, and there’s no trouble later. It can be extremely cathartic as well, to pretend that CGI goat is the tree that fell on your car; that the supernatural mercenary you’re knifing is the illness your spouse struggles with; that the skyscraper a kaiju’s tail just exploded is the absolutely craptastic day you just had with your tantrum-ing toddler. Yes, self-restraint and being able to keep calm in the face of turmoil are very beneficial skills; but sometimes getting to let loose and blow stuff up, or fly through the night sky cackling loudly is just as soothing.

Reason Four: Monsters can be powerful metaphors.

Storytelling uses all sorts of tools to inform and inspire. In mythology, literature, and film, dangerous supernatural beings have been representations of everything from racism and bigotry, to bullying, to putting forth a certain perspective on how we treat outsiders, and what makes an outsider. There have been many stories where either the monster characters display interesting and impactful thoughts on dysfunctional families and societies, on greed and the cost of power, on learning when to stop and when we’re wrong.

There are moments when speaking out can pose peril to humans; so we employ metaphors to share our thoughts on the regimes or organizations that would silence us. Through the centuries, invading armies or empires, abusive partners, corrupt businesses, and even mean schoolteachers have become the monsters in folktales or urban legends. These portrayals really haven’t changed that much; which means neither has our need for this form of symbolism.

Reason Five: Monsters give us a different sort of hero to root for.

I think we’re all aware by now that some people place a lot of value in appearances, and that these same individuals equate appearances with positive personality traits — and that the opposite must also be true. One of the biggest, and longest-lasting, lessons of monster movies is that the being who is the least easy on the eyes could be the most powerful asset in your fight. The most humble creature in the most unimpressive environment could be incredibly intelligent. A grouchy loner who rarely speaks to others will become the most loyal ally to your cause.

Anybody who has ever felt on the outskirts of the group, or not welcome in certain circles, who believes or knows they’ve been judged purely on their outer cover, can relate to this. It was one of the reasons I found myself much more in the pages of vampire novels than chick lit; that I will likely pass on a dozen new murder mysteries to re-watch a cheesy creature feature.

I will never apologize for any of it. I will remain a fan of the genre, weathering the tropes and the reboots and the ups and downs of franchises. I will explore all the cultures, all the tales, and revel in every minute of it.

Because we need monsters.

The Soundtrack to Our Lives

In Which I Post My First Ever Comic Review!

The reason it’s a first ever is very simply because my learning disability gets in the way of how well I can consume certain media formats. Comics are notoriously one, based on their traditional layout (which means my dyslexia sometimes gets confused about who’s speaking when, or if I was supposed to read that bubble before this bubble). But the adult comics market is exploding, and thanks to my practice reading graphic novels aloud to Muffin, I am now able to navigate these waters more efficiently than in years past. And since I now belong to an author collaboration that happens to include a bunch of talented comic artists, I really want to read more and support the community more.

Anyway, I decided to start with the first release by We Have Issues, called Play It Again, which is a standalone single-issue about a man who is finishing preparing to move house after the end of a long-term relationship. Putting his young son to bed, he tries to complete the task, all the emotions of the situation weighing heavily on his heart. While packing the last few things, he finds within his record collection a vinyl disc compiled specifically of songs he wrote for his significant other at particular milestones in their lives (like moving in together, talking about getting married, finding out they were going to be parents). The man puts the record on the player, and is suddenly — literally — sucked into some sort of time-travel portal that brings him back to the moment that song references.

*Deep breath*

Okay, I don’t even know what to say without spoiling the whole story. But there is SO much I could say. For a comic you can read, without rushing, in 20 minutes, there is an INTENSE amount of raw, relatable, poignant, even brutally forthright emotion that anyone who’s ever struggled to accept “it’s over” will feel along with the narrator. The obvious parallel is to divorce or break-ups; but many of us have experienced such grief after other kinds of losses, and any situation where we’re sad, angry, confused, and barely holding it together following one pivotal event — whether we saw it coming or it’s a shock — is what creates the heart of this story.

The metaphors the narrator uses are on point, and while a little flowery at times, never leaves the realm of believable or understandable. The psychological journey he goes on while his body is literally shunted through different physical locations is tough at the beginning (think open wound bleeding), grows in letting go of guilt and forgiving oneself, and eventually reaches not just a place of acceptance, but also of warmth and love, even in the midst of heartbreak. AND. I. JUST.

Give me a minute here, everybody.

As I previously mentioned, this was the first release by the writer-artist duo that is We Have Issues; there are a few (little) things that do show up — ye olde, “wait, is that a typo?” moment; and some of the artwork looks a bit more rudimentary. HOWEVER. Because this story is also, obviously, a labor of love, the bits where maybe it could’ve used a tad more polish are easy to overlook. And it is damn impressive that two self-taught entrepreneurs (with day jobs and families and all the other things creatives so often have to juggle while producing art) put together a comic on their own, a very particular medium.

And, while, yes, I am a little biased because when I know a creator personally I just want to sing their praises, the fact I already knew a lot about these two as humans before getting into their work did not at all prepare me for what I’d find upon reading. The connection made with the reader (or maybe just this reader) feels so much stronger than what I’d expect from pen and ink. And, yes, as a writer myself, you’d think this would be a “duh” sort of musing. But, no, I was not anticipating something so resonating from a pair of since-childhood-friends who are big fans of superheroes and comics and tropes and know each other inside and out.

So, boys, thanks for wrecking me. Keep up the amazing work. And, no, I haven’t yet decided if I will try reading Deathless. I’m taking out an extended rain check on answering that question.

The Story of Gerald

Yes, this is a stinkbug. Around my home, we refer to stinkbugs as Gerald.

It started about 3 years ago, when we realized there was, suddenly, a stinkbug, just there, hanging out like he owned the place, seeming not to care when we nearly set down a coffee cup on him, or almost flipped him into the tub, or practically jumped out of our own skins when he landed on the lampshade right next to our heads.

We wouldn’t kill the stinkbug, in an effort to avoid the terrible odor they’re known for. We’d scoop him up in a tissue and deposit him in the garage, wish him well, and go on with our lives.

Except. Except, several months of one stinkbug after another, after another…after another…later, I realized there was something odd going on.

I’m aware it was, realistically, a new stinkbug every time, determining our house was a great place to spend the winter. But. But, since it looked like the same bug, every time…I decided we had been chosen to host the constant reincarnation of a singular creature, who, for whatever reason, evidently wanted to be in our presence.

So, we started referring to him as Gerald, and whenever we saw him, we’d say hi and gently move him if we needed to, and otherwise not make a big deal out of it. Before long, he was simply a part of our day.

It was a cycle: We’d see a Gerald around for a few days; then we wouldn’t; then the next week or so the next Gerald would appear; and rinse, repeat. Knowing bugs don’t have very long lifespans, even when we didn’t come across a carcass (though sometimes we have), we’re aware that when the current Gerald vanishes, he has probably gone to the Big Plant In The Sky. But, when Gerald the 17th, the 143rd, the 529th (I think we’re up to that by now) joined us, I always felt a little sense of relief.

I am not superstitious. I don’t believe most urban legends, old wives’ tales, or whatever you want to call those strange folklores that determine what’s good or bad luck or some kind of omen. However, once Gerald had become a consistent fixture for us, I did a bit of research.

In various world mythologies, the stinkbug is seen as a symbol of hard work, endurance, self-protection, and listening to your intuition. Last year, while I was dealing with a court case, constant flare-ups, changing jobs, trying to parent through it all, and somehow finish and maybe even release a book no matter what, there was always a Gerald around.

I had to be strong, keep going, guard my heart, stand up for my kids. I needed to speak up when something didn’t feel right, and not care what others thought of a tough, independent, autistic woman. I’d create quite the stink if I had to to get what my family needed.

Basically, in 2023, I was a Gerald.

The other day, I met the most recent Gerald while making tea (I had to move him away from the kettle because, hot, and, danger). In just a few minutes, Gerald had made his way to the other end of the counter (stinkbugs tend to be rather slow movers), so I bent down and watched the little guy’s speedy progress. He (and I am not making this up) stopped, turned to face me, lifted one front leg and rubbed it against his antenna in what looked like a…wave.

I waved back.

Since then, we’ve had a Cat vs. Stinkbug moment — which was rather terrifying, for the cosmic implications of my pet taking down our divinely-appointed mascot — followed by a spotting of Gerald climbing the kitchen wall (yay, proof of survival). I’ve lost track of him in the meantime, so my guess is we’ll be onto Gerald the 601st soon enough.

I’m looking forward to it.

8 Years of Blogging!?!

Photo by Enric Cruz Lu00f3pez on Pexels.com

I knew my anniversary with WordPress was coming up, but seeing the numbers was still a bit of a surprise.

8 years ago, I took the first step in an endeavor that I hoped would transform my hobbies into something more professional. I started a blog, leaning into the #readingcommunity and #writingcommunity, shyly forming connections, dipping my toes a little deeper into reviews and promos, and eventually, one day, I was announcing my own, first publication.

The past 8 years have been jammed with meeting people, losing touch, reconnecting, or moving on; learning so much about my own tastes, patterns, strengths, and where I’m struggling; navigating software and platforms and plenty of technological hurdles; having both an audience and a cheer squad on my journey through it all. It’s been a RIDE, for sure.

I cannot say it enough: To those of you who have been with me for a long, or even a little, time, who are (still) cheering me on, and who have given me SO much in friendship and laughter and ears to bend or shoulders to collapse on, THANK YOU for helping this moth fly.

Photo by sk on Pexels.com

My Resolutions for 2024

Photo by Tobias Bju00f8rkli on Pexels.com

Before we begin, let’s establish: I mean resolutions regarding stuff like what I’m reading, writing goals, and what I spend my precious free time watching or listening to. If you’re in the mood for a post espousing deep and profound life advice, this isn’t the place today (just to let you know).

I’ve never really been one for New Year’s resolutions, mostly because it is WAY too easy to let them slide and never actually create a new habit or routine from those well-meaning (but truly rather flighty) words; and then there’s the sense of guilt or self-disappointment (even being totally aware of the possibilities). I’m all in favor of avoiding the second by diving into the reality of the first.

However, we all know that there are moments when we need to give up something that just isn’t benefitting us, or increase something that does bring us more joy, and little things like adjusting time management or deciding to cancel a subscription, or get one, can definitely make that happen.

So, just what are my resolutions?

DON’T WATCH/READ HYPED NEW RELEASES (Unless I’m the one hyping them)

I have officially lost count of how many times a new movie/show/book — that was called “so good!” by “everyone” (whoever they are, anyway) — let me down. And more than let me down, just twisted my brain in knots of rage — that the plot was so stupid, the characters so boring, the tropes SO tropey — and most of all, that I wasted hours of my life (which I can’t just return for a refund) with this silliness. I’ve posted previously about coming to terms with what a persnickety bookdragon/entertainment-taker-inner I am, and maybe my mid-life crisis has been the final metaphorical nail in the coffin of hype, but I really feel I am over pandering to fomo. Yes, sometimes I’ll hear about something, and honestly react, “That sounds really great.” And I will try it for the best reason, and if I don’t like it, then I don’t get irate over it. Because when I take a chance on something, based on nothing more than my own tastes, often I’ll discover a new favorite. So, *raises the champagne glass*, here’s to finally trusting my gut!

DO STEP OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE A LITTLE BIT WITH STREAMING SERVICES

Just enough to discover that I can listen to audiobooks on Spotify, that there are lots of podcasts on YouTube, that there are plenty of movies available on things like PlutoTv or Tubi, and that all of this is easier to navigate than the fears of a Gen-X-er so used to cable warranted. As we speak, I’m barely dipping my toes into these “new” options, but now that I’m no longer employed by the library system, and now that Netflix has done away with their disc rentals, I do have less access to certain formats than I did. And, yes, the suddeness of some of these changes did rankle my autistic sensibilities, but doing a little research and finding alternative ways to get my eyes/ears/hands on the stuff that I really, really want to smooths the ruffled feathers out pretty well.

DO MAKE TIME FOR WRITING, BUT DON’T SET ANY EXPECTATIONS

Convincing yourself you’ve failed as a writer because you “had” to get down 1846 words today (and make them all astoundingly impactful and coherent ones), and you only managed 297 (and 33 of these will soon be deleted) is a surefire way to agonizing writer’s block and crippling self-doubt. The much better path (and the one that’s much more likely to result in work you actually like and enjoy) is the route of, “That’s 200 or so more words than yesterday!” After having an intense time finishing Volume 4 this year, I learned to be easier on myself, more loving and patient for my process, and embracing the idea that the journey isn’t just about the destination.

DON’T TREAT MEDIA CONSUMPTION AS A RACE (Hint: It’s not)

One of the reasons I gave up Goodreads a few years ago was the fact the very idea of the Goodreads challenge gave me intense anxiety. The notion of being in such fierce competition with myself — and over something that I used to do for fun — really ruined the excitement I once felt before starting a new series or author. Unfortunately, I started to treat movies and shows in much the same vein (ooh, look, crossed another off the list, I am so accomplished!), and it means that, despite having watched/read a loooot of stuff between 2016 and now, I rushed through a big chunk, and didn’t really enjoy a bunch of it. When I was younger, I never thought about tallying; I concentrated on finding a series I honestly liked and working my way through it, getting into every aspect of the characters and arcs and symbolism and themes. Critical thinking that helps a writer deepen their own craft. When I realized that the chance of sacrificing this skill, over higher numbers, was not something I wanted to risk, I began treating my entertainment less like a race. The slower pace and the greater sense of satisfaction I’ve gotten from being able to dissect, in depth, something I paid minute levels of attention to, feels like an actual achievement.

And that’s all for now! I considered adding something about wanting to blog more, but that would contradict everything I said about patience and understanding my limits and not stressing myself out, so I’ll still do my best to post pretty regularly but not wring out half-dry flubberisms from an already-much-tapped well. Since I still need to get Volume 4’s launch officially off the ground, there are author things I definitely have to devote time and energy to, and goals do exist, despite their shape having altered.

Writing Life Updates!: The In Case You Missed It Edition

Hello again! (Finally!) So, recently I have been busy with Halloween stuff and school stuff and life stuff, and part of all that was the topic of this post — my official launch as an author with ASAP Imagination.

Last week the first in my cozy fantasy series, Volume 1: Masters and Beginners, went live in the NE1 World digital catalog, and then I went live on ASAP Imagination’s YouTube channel, in their NE1 World Showcase, to be interviewed about said book. (WordPress has issues with me trying to insert embedded links, I’m afraid, so if you can’t find the interview by going to YouTube, leave a comment to get very particular instructions.)

Anyway, I survived the 45 minutes without seeming too nervous or struggling with technical difficulties, and it was well received by my peers, so, yay! And I’m not panicking too much (I swear, ha ha) about telling all of you to go watch it!

Now, although this is not a new book (first publication was in 2017, after all), I am still quite excited because this launch marks my series going wide. For those of you who aren’t familiar with publishing terms/trends, wide distribution means that digital copies of my work will now be available to anyone who has a device that downloads ebooks — not just Kindle, not specifically Apple, etc. The reason this is such a big deal is because, of course, it means my work will have a real chance to reach a bigger audience; but also, I’m among other creatives, and those who understand the creative ups and downs, and the sense of community, rather than competition, is so there.

Some of you will remember that recently I debated whether or not to keep my books listed on Amazon because of their changes in policies that are definitely going to hurt indie authors. Feeling at the mercy of a huge corporate algorithm does not encourage one to write with passion and spark. Worrying about AI generated fiction pushing your hard-wrought words even further down the search charts won’t put one in the mood to promote loudly and energetically. Now that I’m part of something that celebrates artistic achievements and appreciates these endeavors in their own right, this is helping refuel the dream of getting my stories into readers’ hands. I’m not starting over; I’m changing course, and the goal, at last, once more feels within reach.

If you’ve already read Masters and Beginners (thank you!!!), you could use this relaunch as a way to share the joy with your friends, relatives, neighbors, pets, your neighbors’ pets, and make sure everyone in existence who knows how to read and likes fantasy is aware they can easily snag a digital copy and watch an interview that gives them an introduction to what will be a journey of adventure and humor!

Ahem. Okay, how was that for self promotion?

There’s a Reason it’s Called a Learning Disability

A few weeks ago, something happened that really upset me, and it’s been bugging me ever since. I was at a book club meeting, and when it came to my turn to discuss what I’d read for the theme that month, there was this person, sitting across the table, who kept looking confused as I explained the story. I honestly wasn’t sure why, but when I finished, they asked me, “What made you decide to read this book?” I answered that I’d already seen the movie version, and wanted to revisit the tale, and knew it fit into the theme. And they said, “No, I mean why the graphic novel version instead of the original book?”, and it was all I could do to stop my jaw from dropping.

I managed to get out something about how I’d already read the original (actually, I haven’t), but couldn’t remember the author (in fact another lie), and how I stumbled on the graphic version (true), and knew it would be a quicker read (also true) during a busy week. But the real reason I chose to read the graphic novel rather than the text is because it’s easier for me. But I didn’t feel this person would understand that one bit, so I didn’t even go there.

When I was done answering their extremely judgmental question, they had the audacity to fake smile and say, “Thank you for sharing.” No, I’m not kidding. “Thank you for sharing.” What you say to a child who doesn’t like to speak in front of the whole class. Good Lord.

My whole life, I’ve struggled with understanding certain parts of linguistics, literature, and mathematics; I have dyslexia, and that simply means my brain doesn’t recognize or comprehend certain patterns or constructs. It means that the number is 7491, but I may see 4719; that the correct word is affect, not effect, but I will always accidentally pick the wrong one. It translates to it’s a miracle I was able to graduate college; there are some jobs I don’t even bother applying for; I have to have an editor to catch the typos in my own books; and I am not suited to some types of entertainment.

Reading subtitles in especially foreign films is so difficult, I don’t do it unless there are absolutely no dubbed versions available and I really, really want to see that movie. It’s why a lot of anime remains out of my reach. Similarly, I can’t read manga, because of its reverse (to Western reading) style. Digital manuscripts can be tricky. I like audiobooks, but I have to have complete silence around me to listen, because I’m devoting extra brain power to mentally picturing all the words I cannot see.

I’ve stopped torturing myself with mainstream adult books reaching 450 pages, where I couldn’t really connect with the characters because I couldn’t grasp their situations or motivations — due to the setting descriptions using too many words I couldn’t easily sound out, and the character arcs being cloaked in metaphors too abstract for my mind to pick apart and put back together. I’ve given up on classics entirely. I’m no longer ashamed of the fact that if I want to follow what’s happening in a period drama, I will need to watch the film version.

I’m also becoming very interested in graphic novels, because they include that visual aspect that helps me so much when it comes to really having a concrete image of settings and characters, architecture and fashion, and all the world building that makes a connection between the story and the audience or reader.

And I should not have to apologize for using this method, to be kind to my brain, and ensure enjoyment of a hobby I’m invested in and would like to keep doing.

The idea that an adult choosing to read a graphic novel adaptation of a MG chapter book somehow makes this adult less mature INFURIATES me.

The implication that my choice isn’t considered valid — by someone who doesn’t know me at all and could be making big decisions on how they feel about me without having any background on the matter — is greatly upsetting.

And what’s even worse, this is far from the first time I’ve experienced such things.

People have asked why I write fantasy. Or, why I don’t write epic fantasy. Or, why I do a bunch of research into real events and places just to fictionalize them.

The surface (still valid) reason is: I like fantasy. It’s fun. Reading it, and writing it. Dragons are cool. Real life is boring, and scary. Hoping magic might exist and make things better gives me an escape, and something bigger than myself and my problems to focus on.

The deeper (totally valid as hell) reason is: I have a learning disability. I don’t physically possess the energy to study or create or polish something at length without constant distractions, interruptions, or forgetting bits — possibly even the entire point of the story. It takes me a LONG time (occasionally 3-4 years) to finish a tale that’s coherent and cohesive and readable by other people. I should be PROUD that I accomplish this feat at all. Screw what genre somebody else wants it to be in.

Being a published author isn’t easy, anyway — low sales and lack of marketing options and dealing with unfair criticism comes with the territory. When I already have a lot of obstacles in my path, I do NOT need this kind of subtle backlash on top of everything else.

It makes me mad. It hurts. It does make me question how mature I am, and if my choices are the right ones. It SUCKS.

This has already been a tough month because I’ve had to cope with the loss of income and the adjustments to my schedule by being forced out of one job and trying to secure another. My confidence has been shot in a lot of areas, and I know this incident has weighed on me, despite my trying to brush it off.

I can’t help that I’m disabled. I do try to carry on, with a positive outlook, in spite of the challenges I face on a regular basis. But sometimes a comment or an interaction will just hit in completely the wrong way — and this was one of those moments.

Writing News!: Some Announcements, A Bit of Discussion, and One or Two Carefully Placed Primal Screams

Hello there! So, it took quite a lot of doing, but some author stuff has finally been accomplished, and now I have tangible details to share!

First: A few months ago, I started looking into alternatives to Amazon when it came to ebook distribution. The corporate giant has long forgotten its origins as one of the grassroots building blocks for the indie publishing field, and doing business with them as a self-pubbed author these days is literal hell. And since I no longer work in the local library system, I need sales and royalties and actual promotion for my bibliography. Luckily, I came across some real possibilities for not-Amazon; and finished paperwork and file transfers later, I can announce that my work will very soon be available on the digital bookstore, NE1 World!

Everyone there has been so welcoming, and I joined in their live anniversary con on YouTube last week to introduce myself and share a little about my series. The feeling of getting involved in a group that supports authors of all sorts of genres and styles is so rewarding. For any of you who have read my writing, you’ll know that I don’t stick to tropes, that I combine genres, that I like to shake up the norms (no love triangles or 40-page chapters here!), and that means finding a distributor who accepts all of that and figures out a way to market my work as it is has been tricky. So — as nervewracking as my first live appearance online was! — I’m excited for the chance to go in this direction.

Second: Editing on Volume 4 is almost complete! I fully intend to release a paperback, but I’m thinking that I might go with digital release first (now that I have the groundwork laid for easily-submitted ebooks!). Between needing to get ready for the start of the new school year and returning to the dance studio, I simply may not have the bandwidth to deal with all the formatting and configuring right away. I’ll be sure to keep everyone informed of the next steps as they’re taken!

Third: This will be a primal scream moment. Now that I do have an alternative in place to the ‘Zon, it is very important to not lose sight of the reasons why finding said alt was so necessary. I first uploaded my back-catalogue onto the website, for public sale, in mid-2021; in 2 years, I have yet to receive a single royalty payment, though the company’s own records show that in some months, I did earn “enough,” according to their own rules. What knocked me way down was their former policy on ebook returns — which removed a royalty credit from the author’s account if their ebook title was returned. In less than a 60-day period, I lost over $40 that I’d acquired in Kindle sales because of this, and have yet to get even close to reclaiming it. And because of “printing costs increasing” earlier this year and making authors set our prices higher, paperback sales are in a massive slump. While I, as a reader on a shoestring budget, understand that, as a financially-strapped writer, I’m also pretty upset about it.

So, although I’m going to leave my catalog on Amazon, I’m not going to add to it. This company has done absolutely nothing to make me feel valued as a creative or as a person with real world concerns, and while I will continue to remind folks my work exists there — so that hopefully one day I finally cross the mythological threshold of “earned enough” and actually get some royalties from these *insert bad words here* — I’ve decided striking out on new paths is the way forward.

Fourth (and last for now): The recent upheaval over at Twitter has also taken its toll on my marketing abilities. Since my account is not “premium” there, I am on the lowest rungs of the algorithm’s ladder, and my community engagement has dropped dramatically in the last several months. I still post there — aherm, TWEET — and am doing my best at yelling into the void and hoping my voice lands on at least some of my tribe. But, because I like having a safety net for all sorts of situations, I have created an account with Blue Sky social media, and hope to cultivate a presence there as well (just in case). My handle at Blue Sky is also invisiblemoth1, for anyone who’s headed there and would like to drop in on me!

All right, that brings you pretty well up to speed! Have a great week, everyone!