Let’s Talk Numbers, Shall We?

No, no. Don't groan. These are interesting numbers. Besides, I have to admit to being left-brained sometimes and every once in awhile I just have to give in to the urge.

There was a Publisher’s Weekly article talking about the children's best selling titles and numbers making the rounds a week ago. First of all, I have to say how thrilled I am that this information is out there. Knowledge is power and so often these kinds of numbers and data are kept from the working writer, so it pleases me no end to find them here on the web for all to see. I also found it was highly informative.

The list is broken down into Hardback Sales, frontlist and backlist, then Paperback Sales, frontlist and backlist. (For those who don’t know, frontlist titles are the titles that are new that year, and backlist were published in previous years.)

One of the things I found most fascinating was that of the 217 hardback bestsellers listed, only about 26 of them were middle grade! This shocked me because the middle grade years (ages 8-12) are supposed to be the golden years of reading.

Of the nearly 300 paperbacks, only 70 of them were middle grade. Another shocker when you consider that those include the movie tie ins, etc.

Even sadder? Only about four of all the titles were historical; two of the LUXE books by Anna Godberson, one of the Ranger's Apprentice books (more fantasy, really) and Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld. Very sad showing there... ::sniff::

It was also very enlightening for me to see what publishers were putting out the bestsellers. By an overwhelming margin, it was the Big Publishers who produced the Big Sellers. (I did the math, so you won't have to.*)

Random House 116
HarperCollins 70
Disney/Hyperion 62
S&S/Simon 57
Little Brown 37
Scholastic 35
Golden Books 22
St. Martins 14
Candlewick 11
Houghton Mifflin 8
Razorbill 5
Abrams 5
Chronicle 4
Philomel 4
Knopf 4
Puffin 3
Delacorte 3
Holt 3
Dutton 2
Dial 1

And so I thought I would share the information with you. What can I say? My father was an accountant; it must be in my DNA.


*Fuzzy, ballpark kind of math.

Why Fantasy?

I’m going to be speaking on a panel at TLA next week, and the topic will be Fantasy for Young Readers, which has me thinking a lot about fantasy and writing and (duh!) young readers. One of the questions I come back to time and again is, Why fantasy? Why does fantasy speak to some young readers so much more loudly that realistic fiction? And why am I so drawn to that genre?

As a writer, probably the simplest answer to this question is that fantasy is closer to my worldview than realistic fiction. (And how much do I love having a profession where I can say that and not risk getting locked up!) I have always looked for and found small magics and mysteries in my life, which makes the world a much more interesting place.

For me, all the emotions I felt as a kid were so much bigger than the real world seemed to justify, or the adults in my life seemed to think were warranted. What I sensed in the world around me, what I perceived, how I reacted, all of that seemed totally different from others I knew. Of course, being a child, one does not have a whole lot of perspective or context for one’s emotions.

Fantasy is also the story form most closely related to myths and legends, another type of story that I simply could not get enough of as a child, for in those stories, big things happened; beautiful unexpected things or surprising and terrifying things, but in those stories, my emotional responses seemed to fit.

Although of course there is always the chicken/egg aspect as well. Did those stories create a love of fantasy, or merely cement an already strong preference?

Another question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately is why is fantasy important for young readers? What do fantasy stories bring to the body of children’s literature? Here are some of the answers I came up with.

Growing the Imagination

We forget that imagination isn’t simply about being able to escape into a world where fairies and ogres and wizards exist. Imagination is so much, much more. As Einstein said:

When I examine myself and my methods of thought, I come to the conclusion that the gift of fantasy has meant more to me than any talent for abstract, positive thinking. [I know, I promise I'll quit flogging you with this quote after today.]

And I think that we as a modern society forget just how many truly great strides in non-artistic fields are made by leaps of imagination. Science, technology, mathematics, physics, astronomy, all of those have been fueled by people’s imaginations. If, as children, we are only exposed to what actually exists, are only told about the limits of our world, we will never learn to strive beyond those—we will never learn that joy of believing in something improbable, whether it be a new way of looking at string theory or of reaching for a dream that only someone not tethered to reality would dare to reach for.

Think outside the box, innovations, none of that stuff could happen without imagination.

Sure, we’re born hardwired for certain types of thought, but we can also learn to branch out from our natural preferences. Analytical and critical thinking can absolutely be taught, so can imagination. It can be strengthened like any muscle.

I also think that imagination is closely tied to empathy. It is hard to put yourself in someone elses' shoes without using your imagination to try to understand how they might feel.

Catharsis

Many readers read in order to experience catharsis, that emotionally wringing, satisfied yet exhausted feeling of having come through some great physical or emotional ordeal and survived.

Children seem to be drawn to more black and white conflicts than adult readers, they like to see evil defeated, bad guys get their comeuppance. The truth is, in realistic fiction, there are only a handful of behaviors that qualify a person as truly evil, and few of those are suitable for kids books.

By its nature, Fantasy deals with huge stakes and conflicts: good vs evil, triumphing over enormous odds, bone crushing stakes. It is a wonderful theater for kids to observe the impossible odds being beaten. No, that doesn’t always happen in life, but it happens often enough that it warrants codifying that in our values. If a young child has never read a story of someone triumphing over such odds, how will they know it is possible?

Sure, realistic fiction can do some of this. There are reaslistic stories that include good triumphing over evil or a kid exceeding in spite of almost overwhelming odds. But in realistic fiction, those scenarios are filled with the weight of a lot of pain and must go to a lot of dark, dark places that are often more suited to YA than MG. And sometimes, when stories are too close, too dark, they are too disturbing for the reader.

I heard somewhere, and I can’t for the life of me remember where, that for a reader to be able to get comfortable enough to fully enter a dark story, no more than two of the three elements of the story (plot, character, setting) should be too close to home. If you’re writing about hugely disturbing elements, it can be too intense for readers if something horrible happens to a character like them, in their own world. But if there’s a little distance, a historical or fantasy setting say, then that extra bit of space creates a safety buffer that allows them the distance needed to

Fantasy is also great for teaching the concept of subtext to young readers. Fantasy IS subtext, really. Magical power standing in for personal power, strange forces and magicks taking over our bodies, coming to terms with Others.

What about you? If you’re an avid fantasy reader, what draws you to this genre? If you’re a writer, what compels you to write fantasy?

And, because I haz author copies! everyone who responds to one of those questions in the comments will be entered in a drawing for a copy of Theodosia and the Eyes of Horus, hot off the press!

Out of Words

I had intended to blog more than once this week, but the last three mornings as I sat sipping my first cup of coffee and staring out the window, waiting for words to begin nudging their way into my brain, there was not a scintilla of nudging going on. My brain was surprisingly empty of words.

Or perhaps not so very surprising. In addition to writing like a fiend for the last four months straight, my Eldest Son came home for a ten day visit--celebrating his GRADUATING FROM COLLEGE! Oops. Did I shout that? Sorry. It's just a very big deal and I'm very excited. This was my dyslexic son, who majored in history and read about five hundred pages a week for the last two years. Have I mentioned how proud I am of him??

Anywho, while he was home, we talked about sixteen hours a day, catching up, but also doing a lot of looking forward. It's a scary time to be entering the job market, but I'm confident he will find something. He started working through WHAT COLOR IS YOUR PARACHUTE, a tremendous resource for anyone exploring career options. (However, if anyone has any leads on cool jobs for a history major, do feel free to pass them along! Specific areas of interest include helping people, ancient Japan and the Crusades--an eclectic mix, to be sure.)

So between all that talking and all that writing, I'm thinking my brain needs to go on a word hunt. Or a vacation. Luckily, both of those activities (or would they be non-activities?) require a lot of doing nothing. Which is precisely what I plan to do for the next couple of days.

The Oft Maligned Orphan

And no, I’m not talking about this blog, although I certainly could be. I always forget the sheer number of tasks I have to catch up on once I cross a deadline—so much of my real life gets put on hold while I meet it.

But I have been thinking about orphans in kid lit for a couple of weeks now, puzzled by how strongly some adult reviewers react to that archetype, calling it a trope or stereotype, bemoaning yet another orphan in childrens’ literature, weak storytelling, etc. Frankly, I am puzzled by this. (And I’m not so much talking about my own books here, or even solely as a writer of kids books, but more as a reader.)

Wild and exciting adventures simply do not usually happen to kids with two loving, responsible parents. They just don’t. Furthermore, orphaned heroes are not all Harry Potter wannabes—people trying to hop on that road to bestsellerdom. The tradition of orphans in kid lit goes back much farther than that. Two of my most favorite books in the world when I was a child, The Secret Garden and The Little Princess, involved orphaned girls, and they were written a hundred years ago, well before Harry Potter.

From a logistical standpoint, just as some claim there are only three or seven or twenty one plots in the entire world, so too are there only a certain number of ways to deal with parents in kids books:

1) Kill them off.
2) Get them off screen in another way—business trip, illness, long hours at the office
3) Have them present in the story unaware of what’s going on
4) Have them present in the story involved in what’s going on
5) Have them be part of the story problem itself

While children’s books are not a genre per se, they are, like many genre books, written with a particular reader in mind—kids. And as such, authors need to speak to those readers needs’, not the adults around them. Sure, some kids will get tired about reading about kids with no parents, and yes, there may be a higher number of them in certain genres of kids books, fantasy say. But they are truly not the only books out there. And just as westerns are expected to feature The West, or romance a happy ending, kids books need to feature kids front and center, making choices, operating in big theaters, acting independently, solving their own problems. Loving, responsible parents get in the way of all that.

I wonder sometimes if adult readers have forgotten that operating in the world without parents is both a child’s greatest fear and greatest longing, usually at the same time. As a kid, we are terrified of losing our parents. What will happen to us if we do? Who will take care of us? And yet, we are fascinated by that possibility as well, especially if they have recently punished us unjustly or curtailed desired activities in some way. ☺ That worry and fascination is even stronger if we have a more complicated, unhappy relationship with our parents, as so many children do.

Childhood is about moving toward independence. Even as young kids, on some deep level, we know we are traveling toward a state of being that will not involve living with our parents, where we will have to operate in the world without them by our side. What safer way to try that on than through books? What better place to see that our lives will still be filled with richness and adventure, in addition to that horrible aloneness we all fear? Throughout the ages, stories and myths have codified behavior, values, and societal expectations; taught us how to be, provided a framework for our lives. Does it not make sense, then, that a large number of books for kids would deal with this enormous step kids are moving towards?

As any parent knows, part of our job as good parents is to ensure our kids will not need us anymore, to help them to grow to independence, to assure them that they can and will live in a world that will not include us by their side—and they will thrive. It seems to me that kids books featuring orphans are simply helping to codify and reassure kids about this basic truth.

I’d be curious to know what you all think. Are orphaned kids like nails on a chalkboard to you? A treasured convention? How do you feel about them?

Popping Back In--At Last!

You would think, having finally met both my deadlines, I would have been back in here, trumpets blaring with the announcement. And I meant to be, truly. But I posted over on Shrinking Violets (for the first time in months) and got busy being carried by my momentary euphoria at having finished.

The crash came the next day. I suppose it is inevitable, but it always surprises me, that absolute emptiness that follows finishing a book. It makes sense, as my life has usually been consumed with the book. It—or they, in this case—have loomed large in my life for months now. Then suddenly they’re gone. The odd thing is, my emotional wet-rag state is always accompanied by a cleaning frenzy, as if scrubbing traces of the book from my life is part of my re-entry into reality. I need to reacquaint myself with the real world and remember how to live in it.

Plus there were always a hundred things I let go of as I neared the deadline. I simply had to get to those before they became emergencies. Galleys had to be reviewed and returned to my editor, I had a pile of bills on my desk, taxes to get started on, a child who graduated from college and deserves much celebrating, etc.

But now I’m back, more or less. The Best Editor Ever already has revisions back to me on Nathaniel Fludd Four, so I will dive into that starting Monday. Best news? The revisions are minimal, which shocks me to know end. (I never have even a drop of perspective on a book once I’ve finished it. Not one lousy drop.) I was afraid she’d say, Um, could you start over, from scratch, please?

But she didn’t, which is just one of the things that makes her The Best Editor Ever.

I also have some appearances coming up that I’ll be posting about in more detail, but for now I wanted to let people know I’ll be attending TLA and speaking on a panel with Grace Lin and Suzanne Selfours. I’ll also be doing some school visits in the Austin area the day before.

Then in May I’ll be coming to the east coast! I’ll do signings in Washington DC, New York, and Boston. The rough dates are DC the 17 and 18, New York the 19, and Boston the 20th, but I’ll have to confirm those as plans firm up.

I’ll also be doing a signing at Chaucer’s in Santa Barbara, again, date to be announced. So lots of lovely opportunities to get out and see people after being sequestered in my writing cave for so long!

It's Aaa-live!!

Last week (yeah, I’m waaay behind on my blog reading) Nathan Bransford raised an interesting question, talking about writing characters and the claim that some authors make that characters come to life and take over the story. Between Gaiman’s talk a few weeks ago, the workshop I was preparing for, and the books I’ve been writing, I’ve been thinking about this a lot, especially as I hanker after those writing sweet spots where the characters DO come alive and write themselves.

Because for me, there absolutely are moments when they do. (And I don’t even have to entreat them to write faster!) And when that happens, it is so much more than having my characters react and behave in a logical manner that is true to themselves.
So I’ve been trying to analyze that and pay attention when it does happen, and what I’ve come up with is this:

When we experience those moments when characters write themselves, what’s happening is that we’re circumventing our conscious, thinking brain and tapping directly into our subconscious, intuitive brain and bypassing our own circuitry to create something we haven’t consciously thought about yet.

The truth is, most of my great ideas come from that place, and I have been known to look at these ideas in surprise and think they’re awesome, NOT because I’m patting myself on the back. It’s exactly the opposite. It’s because I feel like I’ve had absolutely zero part in creating them. I feel like the girl in the fairy tale who opened her mouth and was unbelievably lucky (not to mention thunderstruck) when diamonds and pearls fell out, rather than the mundane, everyday toads. It is also why I loved Liz Gilbert’s talk about genius and and the Greek concept of daemons so much. It completely resonated with me. Some of this stuff just feels like it comes out of nowhere.

Now if only I could figure out a way to get diamonds and pearls on purpose (instead of by accident) when I opened my mouth, I’d be happy. ☺

Living In Our Own World

I went to hear Neil Gaiman talk a couple of weeks ago, (for a great recap of his talk, check out Sherrie Peterson’s blog) and I was struck by something he said.

Someone had asked him if his characters wrote themselves, and his answer was something to the effect of, “No, but I would love to live in a world where they did.” And then he had this hilarious riff about forcing them to write faster. (And boy, do I wish I could run off the cuff like that; I would have thought of that comment two hours later on the way home.)

Anyway, it occurred to me how much we do determine what sort of world we live in; sometimes in a good way, by consistently seeing the good in people or being hopeful in spite of the odds, or sometimes in a bad way by denying reality even when it is smacking us in the face.

That really resonated with me, both on a personal level to pay attention to how I’m perceiving the world that I live in, but also as a huge reminder of how critical it is to really put our character’s filters on and view the story world through their eyes; do they see it as a scary place or a hopeful one? Do they feel that they have any control over their world or are they powerless within it? What are they afraid lurks in the shadows? What do they hope is waiting for them around the next corner?

Even two siblings raised in the exact same family with no changes in parenting protocol live in different worlds; the first born having experienced a world where once only he held his parents' affection, and the second born child always living in a world that included other children.

It is also one of the reasons why I write fantasy; the world I live in feels too full of joy and sorrow, contains too many dark shadows and moments of incredible magic to ever be explained my mere reality.