every book has a theme song

I’m hesitant to prescribe a contemporary song to a historical novel, but the fact is that both of my books have theme songs. While I listened to more era/mood appropriate music while writing, I’ve already mentioned that “Sympathy for the Devil” by the Rolling Stones was definitely my theme for The Blood Confession.

I was inspired to write this post when the theme song for The King’s Rose snuck up on me earlier today: “The Other Side” by David Gray. It may seem an odd choice, but take a look at some of these lyrics and imagine it from Catherine to Henry:

Maybe I oughta mention
Was never my intention
To harm you or your kin
Are you so scared to look within
The ghosts are crawling on our skin
We may race and we may run
Well not undo what has been done
Or change the moment when its gone…

Something about the tone of this song always made me think of the end of the book. As much as The Mediaeval Baebes were my muse throughout the writing process, this is the song you should listen to once you’ve finished the book. I’ve found a live (and sort of long) version for you on youtube.com:

As for my current work in progress, I don’t think it has a theme song yet. But there are certainly a range of things that I listen to when I’m writing it or trying to get into the mode of writing. I was suffering some serious writer’s block when I started this book, so sitting down at the computer often became an uncomfortable experience. So instead of worrying about choosing music that would make me think about my character or the time period, I just put on music that I love, that makes me happy. And that, my friends, equates to David Bowie.

magical swings, face transplants…loads of books

If you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty obsessive about my reading tendencies. I think it’s only worse lately since I’m floating around between projects. Or really, I’m floating around in project-limbo: I can’t really work on my newest idea until I hear back from my agent. So what to do in the meantime? (Aside from fretting, yes, we’ve been over that.) Read, of course.

Most recently: The Swing in the Summerhouse, which is a sequel to the much-beloved Diamond in the Window, which was another short-runner for the “children’s book that changed my world” prize. It was delightful and included a scene of young Edward and Eleanor feeling what it’s like to be “grown up” in the most terrifying way imaginable. Yikes! I look forward to reading more of Jane Langton’s work.

Today I finished Sara’s Face by Melvin Burgess, which was fast and interesting and terribly dark, with a lot of characters obsessed with their own appearance – to the point of requiring face transplants. I’ve never read Burgess before and this book was tough to put down. Themes very reminiscent of Erzebet Bizecka, with her own bloody process of preserving youth and beauty.

What’s next, in my quest to distract myself from my own out-of-reach manuscript? I’m considering re-reading the 6 & 7th Harry Potter novels. I never re-read because there are SO MANY books out there that I stay up late at night worrying that I won’t be able to read all of them. But I read these books SO quickly, it would be nice to read them slowly and savor them in my usual manner. Plus, it just sounds so utterly comforting, doesn’t it? Harry Potter? It’s the literary equivalent of hot chocolate. Better: butterbeer. Delicious.

writer’s retreat

Writers out there know that there are some really fancy writers retreats out there, where (for a fee) you can take a little vacation at a nice place where all you have to do is write, and all your meals are brought to you. Sort of like camp…but the goal is to get a lot of writing done. For a more low-cost twist, my friends Anne and Anna and I had a writer’s retreat, hosted by Anna at her house. This was my first retreat – a one-day affair. I brought molasses cinnamon cookies, which I had baked the day before instead of writing.

We each brought some ideas for writing prompts, only to find that we really weren’t in the mood for writing prompts. Instead we talked about our projects and what we’re struggling with at the moment, which I found very helpful. Then we ate pizza (fuel is important if you want to get any work done).

Then we actually sat and did some writing, in companiable quiet. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with friends in the room, but I was pleased with the outcome of the day: not just the pages I produced, but with the collegial feeling of the whole experiment. Writing is a lonely business; it was nice to take it out of my office for a change, and hang out in the company of other writers, all of us doing our thing. And it’s fun to think of all the various ideas floating around this table: ghosts, fanatic obsession, baby donkeys…

And every writer’s retreat needs a mascot. Our mascot is the baby bunny that lives near Anna’s house and eats her sunflower buds.

no, I don’t drink blood or bathe in it, really…

Someone commented recently about the irony of my inherent shyness (which I have mentioned on this blog) considering I chose the point of view of a shameless, knife-wielding murderer for my first book. It begs the question: why do we, as writers, write what we do? What is it that draws us to tell the stories of particular characters, regardless of how (un)pleasant these people may be? As I’m sure I’ve said before, Erzebet was fascinating to write about – but I wouldn’t want to have tea with her. She would probably stab me over the scones.

I was drawn to write about Erzebet because she is in so many ways my stark opposite: so fixated on her own appearance that she’ll have no remorse about bleeding her helpless servant girls in order to harvest their blood for her own beauty regimen. She is callous, high-handed, and a perfectionist when it comes to creating the face reflected back at her in the mirror. She craves the power that beauty gives her and even revels in the pure violence as she wreaks her blood-thirsty havoc on the girls unfortunate enough to find themselves in her employ.

I’m not saying that I’m completely without vanity, but I can’t even bother with makeup, never mind opening the veins of a servant every night. But aside from these over-arching issues, there were certainly ways that Erzebet and I could connect: her vanity stretched all the way to insecurity, as vanity often does. Her fears of the future, of change, and of the unknown leads her to some very dark places in her own soul, and while she takes a very different route to combat those dark places (with blade in hand) I know I’ve experienced those same fears, too. So the key to writing about her was finding a way to empathize with her, in spite of her monstrous past-times.

Empathy aside, it’s simply fun to write about someone completely different, completely alien to yourself. At the risk of frightening any psychologists who may be reading, there is something deliciously terrifying about experiencing – from a safe distance – Erzebet’s glee at the havoc she unleashed, both within her own heart and created in her personal hell on earth in that dark tower dungeon. She is completely out of control, but also completely in control of her own actions, her own mad spiral, and I could just hear her laughing giddily the whole way down. Until, of course, the very end.

Writers out there (and I know you’re out there) please chime in! And no, I’m not referring only to published writers – if you write, then you’re a writer. Do you choose characters who are like you, in obvious or in secret ways?

what I do when I’m not writing

At present I am not a “write at least 30 minute a day” type of writer. I say that with a caveat because something that doesn’t work for me now may prove useful down the road. Writing is fluid, I think, and the practice of it is subject to change.

So what do I do if I’m not writing at the moment (aside from fretting about my current work-in-progress, as I’ve already mentioned)? I’ve been reading. Scribbling in my little red notebook. Then reading some more. This morning on the train I finished M.T. Anderson’s Feed – brilliant. Stark, funny, sad, overall quite terrifying, and again, brilliant. But I forgot to bring Skellig, the next book in the qeue with me, so this necessitated another trip to the Simmons library…where I got three more books. It’s a problem, I know. I started reading one that I borrowed last week: Joan Aiken’s The Wolves of Willoughby Chase. It’s one of those books that I knew I needed to read after reading the first sentence (is this familiar to my readers out there?). I’m not far in but I just love it so far – so utterly sweet in an old-fashioned sort of way, and yet simultaneously funny and quite frightening. How can I not love a book that includes a bit of dialog like this?:

“We had quite a pleasant journey. A wolf jumped into our compartment last night, but Mr. Grimshaw – that gentleman – stabbed it to death and we moved into another compartment.”

Yes, that’s Sylvia, the young, intrepid traveler. I had heard of this book before, but also there is a nice drawing of a snarly wolf on the cover and that of course intrigued me. I love wolves. I had a photo of a wolf on the wall of my bedroom as a teenager, as it figured prominently into that epic vampire poem I was writing at the time (don’t laugh). Early inspiration for Erzebet’s companion, Kyzoni? Certainly. See, all was not for naught with that vampire epic, after all!

dinner with Andrei Codrescu

I get nervous around authors. Yes, I realize the irony implicit in this statement; I love it when people talk to me about my books and I can only assume that other authors feel the same way. But I still find it nerve-wracking to be on the other side of the signing table, as it were. I don’t want to come across as needy or weird or moronic or any number of other bad things. And my fears increase in proportion to just how much I loved the author’s book.

Case in point: last night I went to the BPL to hear Andrei Codrescu talk about his new book, The Posthuman Dada Guide: Tzara and Lenin Play Chess. I haven’t read the new book (which sounds interesting, because of/in spite of the fact that I know near to nothing about the Dada movement) but I read Codrescu’s novel The Blood Countess, about the one and only Countess Bathory – a creature close to my own heart as well, for all of her bloody malevolence. So after the reading I hung around for a bit, with a whole bunch of other people who wanted to approach him and say hello and talk to him and were too shy to do so. So I wasn’t the only shy one. What makes it funnier is that Codrescu couldn’t have been more friendly, more funny, more willing to chat with everyone…but that doesn’t erase the possibility of my own embarrassment.

So I dawdled, but finally when I saw that he and his entourage were gathering themselves to go (the man wanted his fish & chips) I walked over and said hello and told him about my book and agreed to send him a copy (let’s dwell on this for a moment: sending a copy of your own book to an author you admire who has also researched and written about this particular character…yeah, I’m just trying not to think about it too much.) Before I knew it, Mr. Codrescu was inviting me to join them for the aforementioned fish & chips. At first I said I couldn’t, but then I thought, good grief girlie, how often does this happen that this totally cool and fellow Bathory-inspired author invites you to join him and his crew out for dinner? So I joined them. Mind you, I am a shy person by nature. I feel like I’m just barely bold enough to get myself into these pretty amazing situations but not quite secure enough to be chatty and charming like a normal person would be. But it was still pretty awesome. Codrescu has written about Bathory so beautifully – even writing about her horrid atrocities so beautifully, and I love it when a writer can take the horrid and make it gothically gorgeous. We chatted about Bathory, about research, a lot about New Orleans, and bit about young adult literature. He informed me that writing about Bathory for a teenage audience is really quite scary – corrupting the minds of youth and all of that. And I agree.

Back from NE SCBWI Conference!

No doubt you’ve noticed me fretting about presenting at the New England Society for Children’s Writers & Illustrators Conference. Well, I’m happy to say “mission accomplished”! I’m home and recuperating from a wonderful weekend of “schmoozing and musing.”

This was my first presentation and I had 80 people signed up for it, so I knew I needed to swallow all of my nerves and deliver the goods. My talk was “Writing Historical Fiction for Young Adults” and I had a lot to cover and only one hour to talk. One hour can go by quickly when you have a lot to say and you want time for Q&A. Still, I’m not a natural public speaker, so here are some tricks that I employed to help me out:

* I wore my red boots, as they tend to boost my confidence.
* I looked for a few friendly, engaged faces in the crowd (not necessarily faces of people I knew) and basically gave my presentation to them. There was one lovely woman whom I would have thanked if only I could find her later in the conference – she was so alert and engaged that I basically gave my entire presentation to her. It was so comforting.
* I did my best to pretend that I wasn’t nervous. Maybe if I could fool the crowd then I could fool myself, too.
* I tried not to let things distract me. I had a few close moments. They had just broken down the tables for our lunch, and I guess the hotel staff were in the room right behind me playing with silverware, because I was distracted in the beginning by the sound of colliding forks. Then I had this surreal moment of “Lordy! Nancy Werlin is in the audience for my presentation!” Nancy is an amazing writer and speaker and a wonderful, sweet person. It was so great to see her in the audience, though it did give me a split second of panic.

I also learned that it’s good to just sort of roll with things and find the humor. The room I had was very nice and set up perfectly with audience-style chairs. But there was no podium and no microphone. Luckily my audience was so nice that they helped me set my laptop up on a chair (“oops, the cord won’t reach, lets move it to this chair”). I suppose it didn’t hurt that I had brought candy for everyone. Then I just did my best to project my voice to the back row – not an easy task for me. I think my favorite surreal moment was realizing that people were TAKING NOTES from what I was saying. Huzzah!

In the end, I have no idea how I actually did – it’s impossible to have perspective on your own presentation. But I didn’t pass out, which was a plus. The low moment was when I said that Henry only had two children – I was quickly reminded that no, he had three. Blurgh. It’s sort of like getting your own name wrong in front of a crowd of people, but these things happen.

A lot of people told me they liked the presentation a lot and that I helped them make the process of researching and writing a historical novel seem less daunting - this was exactly my goal. So here’s hoping people enjoyed it. I was happy to get the experience; I have to assume that they get easier from here on in. But next time I’ll still wear my red boots. Why mess with what works?

Boston Latin Rocks; YA Cafe also Rocks

Yesterday I met with a reading/writing group at Boston Latin; my academic neighbor, right next door to Simmons College. It was a great mix of students ranging from 8th grade to high school seniors, and all were incredibly engaged and enthusiastic about writing, which was wonderful. It’s fun for me to talk to the next generation of writers. I hope that my tales of writing and re-writing will encourage them in their endeavors, and not scare them off. Many thanks to Kerry, Sahar, Chelsea, Nora, Zarina, and all others present, and an extra big thank you for Megan who invited me to visit, and brought brownies. I took this cute photo but sadly, such is my photographic talent, I didn’t manage to get all of the lovely ladies in the frame…oops. I’ll be more careful next time.

In other news, my interview is up on YA Authors Cafe: http://yaauthorscafe.blogspot.com/2009/03/kings-rose-by-alisa-libby.html. Check it out, and please comment!

Book Talk at West Bridgewater Public Library

Today I met with the teen book group at the West Bridgewater Public Library. This group was a little bit younger than my usual audience–they were probably around 11 to 14 years old. And I have to say, they were fantastic. At least half a dozen of them were writers, working on novels, short stories, poetry, and songs. And their interests ran the gamut of fantasy, magical realism, and historical fiction. I always worry that a group, especially of teenagers, won’t ask any questions (I know I was shy as a teenager) and I’ll just sit up there and blah blah and bore them all to tears. I didn’t have to worry about that with this group. They had a lot of questions about my research, what I liked to write, how I found inspiration for my books, and how long it took me to write my books. The librarians present had both read The Blood Confession so they had more book-specific questions, and one of the teenagers asked about the role of God and religion in the book, which was such a great, perceptive question that (as with most incredibly perceptive questions) I worried I didn’t answer it as well as I could have. I’ve been ruminating about this ever since.

It was a fun event. Hang in there, all of you writers! Oh, and check out the cool sign the librarians put in the window:

rewards

One writing trick that I came across through Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month) is to have a reward waiting for you when you complete your writing goal. Now, you may think that a reward is sort of ironic at this belly-busting time of year when my pie-eating quotient is already pretty high, but you would be mistaken. Because it’s one thing to gorge yourself on Thanksgiving turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing and candied yams and…wait, what was I saying? Oh yes, my point is that to have a rare and special treat is something different. My treat is sitting on my desk right now: a honey cookie from Korea, which I received from my lovely friends visiting from Seoul. Apparently in Korea they’ve figured out some great stuff to do with honey that we haven’t even dreamed of here.

Today I have grocery shopping and pie-making on the brain, so I don’t know how much writing I’ll get done. That is the challenge of writing around holiday time. But I still have Friday and Saturday to sit at my desk and attempt to earn my reward. Here’s hoping the ending is sweet.