There's always one more thing.
I just finished adding a bit to a scene in Skyborne, something I realized a week or two ago needed to be there. (Why did it take so long? Getting my head back together and on writing after the last book has been difficult. Hence why I haven't written here for almost three weeks.) I know that, at this stage, I should be thinking more about taking words out than adding them, as the word count's still a bit high. But I knew this was necessary.
The added part is a small thing, a quiet realization that sets up the book's entire romance subplot. And I think it's a little sad, because wanting to stay with someone and knowing your path will tear you away from them is never a good feeling. Yet it's exactly what the story needed right then, and that's what matters most.
I've struggled with the romance aspects of Skyborne before, blogged about it here at least once. But with this small addition, I think I've finally got that whole thing the way it needs to be. Which pretty much means the whole book is finally the way it needs to be.
What I can't help now is thinking of that old phrase, "When the student is ready, the master will appear," and wondering if it applies to literary agents. ^_^
I'll have an entry with more substance sometime soon; I have some thoughts to get down about story and/vs. world building after the last two books I've read. But for now, something much more important: sleep.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Friday, February 1, 2013
Understanding.
So, last night, I finished the book I'd been working on. Even at the end, I was filled with ambivalence. I lost my passion for this thing somewhere along the way, only got it back at a few brief times, and was mostly cranking through it to get it done so I could move on to something else. I wasn't sure if I'd ever go back and see it if was worth polishing. And then, earlier today, something strange happened: I was telling a co-worker that I'd finished it, and she said she wanted to read it.
Just that. Just knowing someone actually wants to read this thing changed how I feel about it. I went from being pretty damn sure it wasn't worth going back to, sure I was going to leave behind writing in the real world because everything I've written there has gone poorly, to going through ideas in my head of how to fix the stupid thing. Just because someone said they wanted to read it.
Granted, this co-worker mostly wants to read it because I've told her quite a bit about the character who can exist as three of herself and goes around with six arms, but still.
Right now, it's really hard for me to say what will or won't happen with this book. I've learned that I can't speed through the writing process. I averaged 3200 words a night, and that made the whole thing come out in an unfortunate rush. Why I was writing so fast, I don't know; maybe just because I could. Of the past five books I've written, Skyborne is the only one I wrote at a more sedate pace and it's the only one I've stuck with. Trying to go that fast, there's no time to pause and reflect, no time to really focus on what's important. There's only moving to the next line, the next paragraph, the next scene. And I can't write like that anymore. I wish it hadn't taken me this long to understand that, but at least now I know for sure.
The changes I'd like to make will mean rewriting a great deal of the book, if not the whole thing. There's a character to remove, another character's power to change, a third character to have appear much earlier, a fourth character's personality to alter,
But I'd forgotten how much it mattered, how good it felt, just to have someone who wants to read the story. Not that I don't have friends who read my stuff, it's just different when someone asks to read it instead of the other way around. ^_^ And it has me thinking:
Someday, if all goes well, I'll make it as a writer. I'll have people eagerly looking forward to my next book. And that, more than anything, will make it easier to keep going. Not money, not fame, not recognition. Just people who want to read what I write. After years of writing things that hardly anyone ever reads, it's hard to ask for more.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Advice When it's Needed.
Bit of a cheat in this entry: the following is something a friend sent to me back in 2007, when she was participating in NaNoWriMo. She was on a mailing list wherein she received pep talks from famous writers, and forwarded several of them my way. This one's from Neil Gaiman. I'm posting it now because, to be quite honest, I needed to read it and thought it deserved to be shared, because I know I'm not the only one.
Take it away, Mr. Gaiman:
By now you're probably ready to give up. You're past that first fine furious rapture when every character and idea is new and entertaining. You're not yet at the momentous downhill slide to the end, when words and images tumble out of your head sometimes faster than you can get them down on paper. You're in the middle, a little past the half-way point. The glamour has faded, the magic has gone, your back hurts from all the typing, your family, friends and random email acquaintances have gone from being encouraging or at least accepting to now complaining that they never see you any more---and that even when they do you're preoccupied and no fun. You don't know why you started your novel, you no longer remember why you imagined that anyone would want to read it, and you're pretty sure that even if you finish it it won't have been worth the time or energy and every time you stop long enough to compare it to the thing that you had in your head when you began---a glittering, brilliant, wonderful novel, in which every word spits fire and burns, a book as good or better than the best book you ever read---it falls so painfully short that you're pretty sure that it would be a mercy simply to delete the whole thing.
Welcome to the club.
That's how novels get written.
You write. That's the hard bit that nobody sees. You write on the good days and you write on the lousy days. Like a shark, you have to keep moving forward or you die. Writing may or may not be your salvation; it might or might not be your destiny. But that does not matter. What matters right now are the words, one after another. Find the next word. Write it down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
A dry-stone wall is a lovely thing when you see it bordering a field in the middle of nowhere but becomes more impressive when you realise that it was built without mortar, that the builder needed to choose each interlocking stone and fit it in. Writing is like building a wall. It's a continual search for the word that will fit in the text, in your mind, on the page. Plot and character and metaphor and style, all these become secondary to the words. The wall-builder erects her wall one rock at a time until she reaches the far end of the field. If she doesn't build it it won't be there. So she looks down at her pile of rocks, picks the one that looks like it will best suit her purpose, and puts it in.
The search for the word gets no easier but nobody else is going to write your novel for you.
The last novel I wrote (it was ANANSI BOYS, in case you were wondering) when I got three-quarters of the way through I called my agent. I told her how stupid I felt writing something no-one would ever want to read, how thin the characters were, how pointless the plot. I strongly suggested that I was ready to abandon this book and write something else instead, or perhaps I could abandon the book and take up a new life as a landscape gardener, bank-robber, short-order cook or marine biologist. And instead of sympathising or agreeing with me, or blasting me forward with a wave of enthusiasm---or even arguing with me---she simply said, suspiciously cheerfully, "Oh, you're at that part of the book, are you?"
I was shocked. "You mean I've done this before?"
"You don't remember?"
"Not really."
"Oh yes," she said. "You do this every time you write a novel. But so do all my other clients."
I didn't even get to feel unique in my despair.
So I put down the phone and drove down to the coffee house in which I was writing the book, filled my pen and carried on writing.
One word after another.
That's the only way that novels get written and, short of elves coming in the night and turning your jumbled notes into Chapter Nine, it's the only way to do it.
So keep on keeping on. Write another word and then another.
Pretty soon you'll be on the downward slide, and it's not impossible that soon you'll be at the end. Good luck...
Neil Gaiman
Take it away, Mr. Gaiman:
By now you're probably ready to give up. You're past that first fine furious rapture when every character and idea is new and entertaining. You're not yet at the momentous downhill slide to the end, when words and images tumble out of your head sometimes faster than you can get them down on paper. You're in the middle, a little past the half-way point. The glamour has faded, the magic has gone, your back hurts from all the typing, your family, friends and random email acquaintances have gone from being encouraging or at least accepting to now complaining that they never see you any more---and that even when they do you're preoccupied and no fun. You don't know why you started your novel, you no longer remember why you imagined that anyone would want to read it, and you're pretty sure that even if you finish it it won't have been worth the time or energy and every time you stop long enough to compare it to the thing that you had in your head when you began---a glittering, brilliant, wonderful novel, in which every word spits fire and burns, a book as good or better than the best book you ever read---it falls so painfully short that you're pretty sure that it would be a mercy simply to delete the whole thing.
Welcome to the club.
That's how novels get written.
You write. That's the hard bit that nobody sees. You write on the good days and you write on the lousy days. Like a shark, you have to keep moving forward or you die. Writing may or may not be your salvation; it might or might not be your destiny. But that does not matter. What matters right now are the words, one after another. Find the next word. Write it down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
A dry-stone wall is a lovely thing when you see it bordering a field in the middle of nowhere but becomes more impressive when you realise that it was built without mortar, that the builder needed to choose each interlocking stone and fit it in. Writing is like building a wall. It's a continual search for the word that will fit in the text, in your mind, on the page. Plot and character and metaphor and style, all these become secondary to the words. The wall-builder erects her wall one rock at a time until she reaches the far end of the field. If she doesn't build it it won't be there. So she looks down at her pile of rocks, picks the one that looks like it will best suit her purpose, and puts it in.
The search for the word gets no easier but nobody else is going to write your novel for you.
The last novel I wrote (it was ANANSI BOYS, in case you were wondering) when I got three-quarters of the way through I called my agent. I told her how stupid I felt writing something no-one would ever want to read, how thin the characters were, how pointless the plot. I strongly suggested that I was ready to abandon this book and write something else instead, or perhaps I could abandon the book and take up a new life as a landscape gardener, bank-robber, short-order cook or marine biologist. And instead of sympathising or agreeing with me, or blasting me forward with a wave of enthusiasm---or even arguing with me---she simply said, suspiciously cheerfully, "Oh, you're at that part of the book, are you?"
I was shocked. "You mean I've done this before?"
"You don't remember?"
"Not really."
"Oh yes," she said. "You do this every time you write a novel. But so do all my other clients."
I didn't even get to feel unique in my despair.
So I put down the phone and drove down to the coffee house in which I was writing the book, filled my pen and carried on writing.
One word after another.
That's the only way that novels get written and, short of elves coming in the night and turning your jumbled notes into Chapter Nine, it's the only way to do it.
So keep on keeping on. Write another word and then another.
Pretty soon you'll be on the downward slide, and it's not impossible that soon you'll be at the end. Good luck...
Neil Gaiman
Monday, January 21, 2013
Things I Need to Know
There are hazards to writing something that takes place in the real world, things I didn't even think about when I started plotting my current book. I'm used to being able to make up everything - to come up with the way the world works, how far away one place is from another, and anything else the story needs.
It's one thing to create a world. It's something very different to have to get a pre-existing world right.
For instance, last week I bugged a co-worker who's an avid hunter about guns. One of the book's characters decides dealing with demons up close is a bad idea, and learns how to use a rifle. I kept the details deliberately vague, as I figured I could edit in what I needed later. The info I got from my co-worker was interesting; he not only listed a good 'starter' rifle someone would learn with, but gave me a full description of the second gun the character ends up getting, complete with the fact that it has a 300-yard range and can take down an elk.
It's the little details that matter.
There are a ton of things I still have to look up, and much like the gun details, I expect to edit them in later. Things like hotel floor plans, roads in major cities and small towns, and actual maps of those places so I can make sure Our Heroes' travels are accurate. I plan to make full use of Google, maps and street views and all that, and hope I can find a place that actually fits what I've written. Sure, anything can be fixed in editing, but still.
All in all, having to take all this into account has been an interesting experience. This isn't something I worry about in most of my writing. True, the book I wrote last year took place on Earth, but it was almost entirely at a college campus, which is its own kind of fictional. And before that, it had been years since I wrote something that took place in the real world, and that was over half a century after a major change to the world so I had plenty of room to improvise.
As for fixing all of this in editing, that's another point. I'm not as excited about writing this book as I thought I would be. It feels a bit like it's all been done before - no real surprise, as this is my third time trying to tell this story. I also might be suffering from Shiny New Project Syndrome; the things I still have in the plotting stages seem a lot more interesting. But I'm going to finish this book, one way or another.
The last thing I need to know is if I can well and truly make this story work. And I won't know that until it's done.
It's one thing to create a world. It's something very different to have to get a pre-existing world right.
For instance, last week I bugged a co-worker who's an avid hunter about guns. One of the book's characters decides dealing with demons up close is a bad idea, and learns how to use a rifle. I kept the details deliberately vague, as I figured I could edit in what I needed later. The info I got from my co-worker was interesting; he not only listed a good 'starter' rifle someone would learn with, but gave me a full description of the second gun the character ends up getting, complete with the fact that it has a 300-yard range and can take down an elk.
It's the little details that matter.
There are a ton of things I still have to look up, and much like the gun details, I expect to edit them in later. Things like hotel floor plans, roads in major cities and small towns, and actual maps of those places so I can make sure Our Heroes' travels are accurate. I plan to make full use of Google, maps and street views and all that, and hope I can find a place that actually fits what I've written. Sure, anything can be fixed in editing, but still.
All in all, having to take all this into account has been an interesting experience. This isn't something I worry about in most of my writing. True, the book I wrote last year took place on Earth, but it was almost entirely at a college campus, which is its own kind of fictional. And before that, it had been years since I wrote something that took place in the real world, and that was over half a century after a major change to the world so I had plenty of room to improvise.
As for fixing all of this in editing, that's another point. I'm not as excited about writing this book as I thought I would be. It feels a bit like it's all been done before - no real surprise, as this is my third time trying to tell this story. I also might be suffering from Shiny New Project Syndrome; the things I still have in the plotting stages seem a lot more interesting. But I'm going to finish this book, one way or another.
The last thing I need to know is if I can well and truly make this story work. And I won't know that until it's done.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
A Kind of Magic
Music for tonight's blog entry, for obvious reasons.
One of the main things happening in the book I'm working on is the sudden influx of magic into the real world. The results are largely unfortunate and the world is forever changed, but really, that's what happens when you introduce magic into a place where there isn't any. Dealing with this change is one of the main challenges for the main characters, especially considering what happens to them.
But all this got me thinking. There's a ridiculous number of ways to deal with magic in a story. What I'm working with is blatant, showy, powerful, and hard to miss. It's the kind of magic I enjoy writing about, as it lends itself to all kinds of interesting stories, especially when you have people who are just learning how to use it. I've fully planned to have random effects occurring, thanks to the group's inexperience and the world's condition. Yet some of the best uses of magic in fiction I've seen are a great deal more subtle, and a lot less wild.
In George R. R. Martin's series A Song of Ice and Fire, magic is rare and subtle, and just slowly coming back into the world. I've seen people ask him about his world's magic system, and if I remember right, he said there wasn't one. He wanted the magic to feel like magic, not something with a set of rules. (Apologies to all parties if I'm misremembering any of this, I read it quite a while ago.) I like this approach for some types of stories; it keeps magic surprising and interesting, and also makes it something the characters can't rely on.
On the distinctly other hand, you have the works of Brandon Sanderson, who's a prime example of the trope Magic A is Magic A. Basically, magic works in a consistent and predictable manner, with its own set of rules. He's written a long essay on the subject, which I'm still trying to fully wrap my head around. I like this approach as well, because it's creative and limiting at the same time. If you come up with your own set of rules for this sort of thing, your readers will - and should! - call you on it if you break them to serve the plot.
In my book-in-progress, one of the characters is set on learning how the change that's affected the world works. Everyone is currently ignorant of what's happening, but over time, they will learn. And while people learning how to use magic is a theme I find myself working with quite often - it comes up in Skyborne as well, for very different reasons - it never gets old to me, because everyone has such a different reaction to suddenly having magic in their lives.
And I have to admit, I'm really looking forward to seeing what they do when they realize the ways their enemies use magic are also available to them, consumptive and repulsive as they are. I've only been writing this book for nine days and it's already surprised me more than once. So despite my best-laid plans, I can't help but wonder what kind of magic they'll eventually pursue.
One of the main things happening in the book I'm working on is the sudden influx of magic into the real world. The results are largely unfortunate and the world is forever changed, but really, that's what happens when you introduce magic into a place where there isn't any. Dealing with this change is one of the main challenges for the main characters, especially considering what happens to them.
But all this got me thinking. There's a ridiculous number of ways to deal with magic in a story. What I'm working with is blatant, showy, powerful, and hard to miss. It's the kind of magic I enjoy writing about, as it lends itself to all kinds of interesting stories, especially when you have people who are just learning how to use it. I've fully planned to have random effects occurring, thanks to the group's inexperience and the world's condition. Yet some of the best uses of magic in fiction I've seen are a great deal more subtle, and a lot less wild.
In George R. R. Martin's series A Song of Ice and Fire, magic is rare and subtle, and just slowly coming back into the world. I've seen people ask him about his world's magic system, and if I remember right, he said there wasn't one. He wanted the magic to feel like magic, not something with a set of rules. (Apologies to all parties if I'm misremembering any of this, I read it quite a while ago.) I like this approach for some types of stories; it keeps magic surprising and interesting, and also makes it something the characters can't rely on.
On the distinctly other hand, you have the works of Brandon Sanderson, who's a prime example of the trope Magic A is Magic A. Basically, magic works in a consistent and predictable manner, with its own set of rules. He's written a long essay on the subject, which I'm still trying to fully wrap my head around. I like this approach as well, because it's creative and limiting at the same time. If you come up with your own set of rules for this sort of thing, your readers will - and should! - call you on it if you break them to serve the plot.
In my book-in-progress, one of the characters is set on learning how the change that's affected the world works. Everyone is currently ignorant of what's happening, but over time, they will learn. And while people learning how to use magic is a theme I find myself working with quite often - it comes up in Skyborne as well, for very different reasons - it never gets old to me, because everyone has such a different reaction to suddenly having magic in their lives.
And I have to admit, I'm really looking forward to seeing what they do when they realize the ways their enemies use magic are also available to them, consumptive and repulsive as they are. I've only been writing this book for nine days and it's already surprised me more than once. So despite my best-laid plans, I can't help but wonder what kind of magic they'll eventually pursue.
Monday, December 31, 2012
At the year's end.
First off: I apologize for the recent lack of entries. Stress from work, travel planning, lots of book plotting, and some unfortunate computer issues left me with little desire to blog. Oi. I'm hoping and planning to write more regular entries here next year. But that's then, and for a moment, this is now. So let's talk about this past year.
This past year, I polished the absolute hell out of Skyborne, everything from rewriting a quarter of the book to doing a "romance and feelings" edit because I wanted to make sure to get that stuff right. I'm very, very happy to say that I'm still just as enthusiastic about it as I was at the start of the year. I've edited things until I was sick of them before, and I really feared doing that with this book. Not happening. I still have every plan to keep at it until I get Skyborne published. Speaking of which:
This past year, I started the querying process in earnest for the first time since 2005. It's just as nerve-wracking. But at least it's both cheaper and faster now, since it's all done through e-mail. ^_^ I have a new query letter I'm polishing up to start with the new year's queries, and hopefully this one will work better.
This past year, I got involved with the online writing community. I'm more than a bit introverted, so throwing myself and my work out there online was a big step for me. And y'know what? It's been awesome. There's such a great community of writers out there, aspiring and newly published and experienced and everything in between. The mutual encouragement and support is absolutely amazing. And sometimes it leads to new things...
This past year, I discovered New Adult, and realized I'd been looking for it my entire life. Most characters I write are in their late teens to early twenties, so as NA slowly gains more recognition and support, hopefully I'll find a way to ride this wave as it rises. I do hope NA grows into more genres than contemporary and/or paranormal romance, but everything starts small. The simple fact that agents and publishers are acknowledging it is a major and very encouraging change.
This past year, I had two failed projects. One of them taught me that I should never start a book within two weeks of having the idea for it, no matter how familiar the idea is. The other taught me that there's a fine line between 'inspired by' and 'derived from', and that I need to recognize it before I cross it, preferably somewhere in the plotting stages. But I re-learned that it's okay to just let a book go, and that it's okay to stop before something's finished if I know it's not worth continuing. Hard lessons, but sometimes it's the hard lessons we forget on purpose. Hence the need to re-learn.
That was this year. Tomorrow starts a new year.
Tomorrow, I start writing a new book. Seems like a good time for it.
Happy 2013, everyone.
This past year, I polished the absolute hell out of Skyborne, everything from rewriting a quarter of the book to doing a "romance and feelings" edit because I wanted to make sure to get that stuff right. I'm very, very happy to say that I'm still just as enthusiastic about it as I was at the start of the year. I've edited things until I was sick of them before, and I really feared doing that with this book. Not happening. I still have every plan to keep at it until I get Skyborne published. Speaking of which:
This past year, I started the querying process in earnest for the first time since 2005. It's just as nerve-wracking. But at least it's both cheaper and faster now, since it's all done through e-mail. ^_^ I have a new query letter I'm polishing up to start with the new year's queries, and hopefully this one will work better.
This past year, I got involved with the online writing community. I'm more than a bit introverted, so throwing myself and my work out there online was a big step for me. And y'know what? It's been awesome. There's such a great community of writers out there, aspiring and newly published and experienced and everything in between. The mutual encouragement and support is absolutely amazing. And sometimes it leads to new things...
This past year, I discovered New Adult, and realized I'd been looking for it my entire life. Most characters I write are in their late teens to early twenties, so as NA slowly gains more recognition and support, hopefully I'll find a way to ride this wave as it rises. I do hope NA grows into more genres than contemporary and/or paranormal romance, but everything starts small. The simple fact that agents and publishers are acknowledging it is a major and very encouraging change.
This past year, I had two failed projects. One of them taught me that I should never start a book within two weeks of having the idea for it, no matter how familiar the idea is. The other taught me that there's a fine line between 'inspired by' and 'derived from', and that I need to recognize it before I cross it, preferably somewhere in the plotting stages. But I re-learned that it's okay to just let a book go, and that it's okay to stop before something's finished if I know it's not worth continuing. Hard lessons, but sometimes it's the hard lessons we forget on purpose. Hence the need to re-learn.
That was this year. Tomorrow starts a new year.
Tomorrow, I start writing a new book. Seems like a good time for it.
Happy 2013, everyone.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Identity Crisis
Sometimes, the only way to realize something is for someone who knows what they're talking about to point it out. If it's something small, it's usually not a big deal, unless it's something embarrassing like having your pants zipper open. (Guilty.) But this sort of thing is at its worst when it's something you don't want to hear. In my case, it's something I heard from two friends who do in fact know what they're talking about:
"You're writing Young Adult."
Naturally, my first response was resistance. Most characters I write are in their late teens and early twenties, out of the usual range for YA; that's part of why I'm so big on New Adult. Also, I haven't read much YA. Most of what I've read in that category consists of the Harry Potter and Hunger Games series. Both are excellent, don't get me wrong.
However, when I think of YA, I tend to think of stories that involve much younger protagonists and a different set of issues than what I like to write. I tend to think of stories with lower word counts, which is a major part of why I've never set out to write YA; I seem to lack the ability to tell a short story. Seriously. Shortest book I've written was 103K, and I deliberately wrapped that one up as quickly as I could. So despite YA being absolutely damn huge these days, I'd never felt the desire to write it.
But when two people who read a ton of YA tell me the same thing, it'd be foolish not to listen. One said that the way I tell a story is too lengthy and descriptive for adult-aimed works. I countered with examples from Neil Gaiman and Jim Butcher, and she counter-countered with the point that both of them can pretty much write whatever they want these days. Couldn't argue with that. And Rena has been trying to convince me that I write YA for quite a while.
Rena also calmed some of my worries about this whole thing. Fantasy stories always have a higher word count than other books, so I could query Skyborne as YA fantasy and not get rejected on word count alone. And if I found success in YA, I wouldn't be expected to write teenagers only forever. Which is good, since I fully plan to let these people grow up. Eventually.
Now, I'm not giving up on New Adult. I think NA will only continue to grow, and it's starting to get wider recognition as a niche that needs to be filled. I dearly hope it soon branches into more genres than just contemporary or paranormal romance. But I'm not going to avoid YA anymore.
I've got a list of agents who are looking for YA epic fantasy, and a brand new edit on my query letter. Guess what I'm doing this weekend.
Wish me luck.
"You're writing Young Adult."
Naturally, my first response was resistance. Most characters I write are in their late teens and early twenties, out of the usual range for YA; that's part of why I'm so big on New Adult. Also, I haven't read much YA. Most of what I've read in that category consists of the Harry Potter and Hunger Games series. Both are excellent, don't get me wrong.
However, when I think of YA, I tend to think of stories that involve much younger protagonists and a different set of issues than what I like to write. I tend to think of stories with lower word counts, which is a major part of why I've never set out to write YA; I seem to lack the ability to tell a short story. Seriously. Shortest book I've written was 103K, and I deliberately wrapped that one up as quickly as I could. So despite YA being absolutely damn huge these days, I'd never felt the desire to write it.
But when two people who read a ton of YA tell me the same thing, it'd be foolish not to listen. One said that the way I tell a story is too lengthy and descriptive for adult-aimed works. I countered with examples from Neil Gaiman and Jim Butcher, and she counter-countered with the point that both of them can pretty much write whatever they want these days. Couldn't argue with that. And Rena has been trying to convince me that I write YA for quite a while.
Rena also calmed some of my worries about this whole thing. Fantasy stories always have a higher word count than other books, so I could query Skyborne as YA fantasy and not get rejected on word count alone. And if I found success in YA, I wouldn't be expected to write teenagers only forever. Which is good, since I fully plan to let these people grow up. Eventually.
Now, I'm not giving up on New Adult. I think NA will only continue to grow, and it's starting to get wider recognition as a niche that needs to be filled. I dearly hope it soon branches into more genres than just contemporary or paranormal romance. But I'm not going to avoid YA anymore.
I've got a list of agents who are looking for YA epic fantasy, and a brand new edit on my query letter. Guess what I'm doing this weekend.
Wish me luck.
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