President Obama's campaign web-site has given us the Obama Woman, a gal named "Julia" who we follow in cartoon form from age three through age 67+ . Julia's life, from the formative years and onward, has been guided, nurtured and embraced by and through government programs such as: Head Start, Medicaid, Food Stamps, Obamacare, Pell Grants for education etc. There is never a mention of Julia having parents or siblings or any family at all (they had to be in the mix somewhere but I guess their impact on Julia's life was minimal). Finally, as Julia's wonderful, carefree and orchestrated life winds down, she finds happiness in her senior years as a volunteer in a "community garden". May I present the JULIA alternative--JOANIE.
Joanie Peach is 17. She did have parents but they died. Her mother, when Joanie was 13, and her dad when she was 17. She has an older brother, Teddy, 18, and three younger brothers aged 14, 10 and 6. They are orphans. Yup--Joanie has had multiple roles in her young life: daughter, sister, replacement mom, high school student, cook, house-keeper, household budget manager, grocery shopper, meal planner, and, of course, nurse in charge of all the cuts, bumps and bruises that little boys seem to attract. I have to be fair--this did take place "way, way", back in the mid 1960's. That was a time when the all embraceable and benevolent government was just beginning to get into the "nanny busines". Consequently, folks (for the most part)counted on their family, friends and church to help them through difficult life challenges.
Joanie Peach and the parentless journey of her and her brothers begins in the YA novel, "The Priest and the Peaches", the first book in a fictionalized (like Obama's, Julia) series that will follow the life of these kids. Joanie and Julia are quite different. Why not spend a few bucks (it is an ebook) to see HOW different and how the faith, strength and love of God and family can be the foundation that binds and lifts folks together no matter what life may throw their way.
May 10, 2012
May 9, 2012
Larry talks about...his personal writing process
Here's a bit about the "writing process." Just remember that this is MY way and, since I am (like my books) a work in progress, this process may metamorphosize into something else as time goes by. Having laid out the disclaimer which comes from my insecurities, let me begin.
For me, the initial process begins with pen and paper. This might be the easiest. It is like my brain is a dump truck loaded with all of the necessary materials to build a house. The paper is the property where the house will be built. So I dump it all in a big pile on the paper as it pours out of my pen or pencil. Now all I have to do is figure out where everything goes. Onward to the keyboard to sort this mess. That's the hard part. I know where the foundation will go and I can see the finished product with its roof, doors, windows, shutters and even the landscaping. That is the "big picture". But I have not been inside that house nor have I painted the outside. I still have to install plumbing, heating, electrical, cabinets, sinks, decide on colors etc. Okay, I have seen the "big picture" and now I have to figure out how all of those NECESSARY parts will fit together. As I write there are many changes that continually take place. By the time I have finished I have re-constructed that house many times.
As far as the characters are concerned (those folks living inside the house) I want the reader to get to know them in a way that they want to know more about them. As I write, these folks develop and sometimes I am even surprised when I find out who they really are and what makes them "tick" or what they are capable of. It is like meeting real people. Sometimes you might meet someone and become life-long friends. Then there are those who initially impress you but you find out soon enough that you just do not "connect". That is the end of that. So, that is the way with me and my characters.
As far as The Priest and The Peaches is concerned the idea came to me at my brother's funeral several years ago. There were five of us and we did lose our folks at an early age. But I had never considered writing about it. Then, after Bobby's funeral, my sister, brothers and I, were reminiscing about our early years. One thing led to another and we were laughing like crazy. All of us had different memories of a shared time in our lives and it was a beautiful afternoon for all of us even though we had just buried our brother. That is when the idea for the book began to germinate. However, it is a work of fiction. I just seized that moment in time and ran with it.
For me, the initial process begins with pen and paper. This might be the easiest. It is like my brain is a dump truck loaded with all of the necessary materials to build a house. The paper is the property where the house will be built. So I dump it all in a big pile on the paper as it pours out of my pen or pencil. Now all I have to do is figure out where everything goes. Onward to the keyboard to sort this mess. That's the hard part. I know where the foundation will go and I can see the finished product with its roof, doors, windows, shutters and even the landscaping. That is the "big picture". But I have not been inside that house nor have I painted the outside. I still have to install plumbing, heating, electrical, cabinets, sinks, decide on colors etc. Okay, I have seen the "big picture" and now I have to figure out how all of those NECESSARY parts will fit together. As I write there are many changes that continually take place. By the time I have finished I have re-constructed that house many times.
As far as the characters are concerned (those folks living inside the house) I want the reader to get to know them in a way that they want to know more about them. As I write, these folks develop and sometimes I am even surprised when I find out who they really are and what makes them "tick" or what they are capable of. It is like meeting real people. Sometimes you might meet someone and become life-long friends. Then there are those who initially impress you but you find out soon enough that you just do not "connect". That is the end of that. So, that is the way with me and my characters.
As far as The Priest and The Peaches is concerned the idea came to me at my brother's funeral several years ago. There were five of us and we did lose our folks at an early age. But I had never considered writing about it. Then, after Bobby's funeral, my sister, brothers and I, were reminiscing about our early years. One thing led to another and we were laughing like crazy. All of us had different memories of a shared time in our lives and it was a beautiful afternoon for all of us even though we had just buried our brother. That is when the idea for the book began to germinate. However, it is a work of fiction. I just seized that moment in time and ran with it.
May 8, 2012
Larry talks about...how writing a novel is akin to building a house or taking a trip
I have described writing a novel as akin to building a house. For me, the overall concept is in my mind. The blank paper is the land where the house will be built. Most of the building materials are on the truck waiting to be unloaded. The only problem for me is I do not have any blue-prints to follow so I have to figure out where everything goes without direction. Many writers outline carefully (blue-print) and some synopsize from beginning to end (build a scale model). I synopsize after the fact (more or less jotting down where I have been after a few chapters so I have reference to the thousands of words already written). I am more or less considered a "pantser" (flying by the seat of my pants) and it is a method frowned upon by most experts.
Another way to look at the process of novel writing is as if you are on a cross-country journey. The first couple of hundred miles are more or less a straight run on the interstate and you just breeze along with nary a bump in the road. Suddenly there is an unexpected detour ahead and you are sent in another direction. You make a wrong turn and discover that you have no idea where you are. Where is that darn highway? You stop and ask directions (thinking) and write them down (different ideas) and the person who gave you directions becomes a new character. You begin to drive and "thumpa-thumpa," you blow a tire. Uh oh--the spare is flat. You have had enough and decide to stop at a motel so you can relax and regroup. Ultimately, you fight through the adversity (write-edit-write-edit-write) and keep on going.
I hope you get my point with all of this. You will always hit the proverbial "bump in the road". Sometimes you will wind up in a ditch. You have to deal head-on with all obstacles. The goal is to finish the journey. The entire process will more than likely prove to be a lot more challenging than you ever thought. But you MUST keep on truckin' - sooner or later you will reach the end of the journey.
Sidebar: If some of the young folks out there would like to get an idea of how it might be to have to fend for themselves and take care of the "business of life" they might enjoy reading The Priest & The Peaches. Not all kids come home to an X-Box 360 or a Wii, and a mom who is there to feed them and tuck them in.
Another way to look at the process of novel writing is as if you are on a cross-country journey. The first couple of hundred miles are more or less a straight run on the interstate and you just breeze along with nary a bump in the road. Suddenly there is an unexpected detour ahead and you are sent in another direction. You make a wrong turn and discover that you have no idea where you are. Where is that darn highway? You stop and ask directions (thinking) and write them down (different ideas) and the person who gave you directions becomes a new character. You begin to drive and "thumpa-thumpa," you blow a tire. Uh oh--the spare is flat. You have had enough and decide to stop at a motel so you can relax and regroup. Ultimately, you fight through the adversity (write-edit-write-edit-write) and keep on going.
I hope you get my point with all of this. You will always hit the proverbial "bump in the road". Sometimes you will wind up in a ditch. You have to deal head-on with all obstacles. The goal is to finish the journey. The entire process will more than likely prove to be a lot more challenging than you ever thought. But you MUST keep on truckin' - sooner or later you will reach the end of the journey.
Sidebar: If some of the young folks out there would like to get an idea of how it might be to have to fend for themselves and take care of the "business of life" they might enjoy reading The Priest & The Peaches. Not all kids come home to an X-Box 360 or a Wii, and a mom who is there to feed them and tuck them in.
May 7, 2012
Larry talks about...plotting
This is my analogy of MY writing process. I am confident that many of the "experts" would take me to task since I am a bit of a "pantser" (flying by the seat of my pants). Anyway--here ya go:
Let's start with "plotting". For me, I have the idea in my head. The more I think about this idea the more vivid things become. It is as if I am picturing a house I want to build. I know where the foundation will go and I can see the finished product with its roof, windows, doors, shutters and even shrubs. But, I have not been inside that house nor have I painted the outside. I still have to install plumbing, heating, electrical, cabinets, sinks, decide on colors etc. That's what it is like for me when thinking the story through from beginning to end. Where and how all of those necessary parts and pieces will fit together I do not know. It happens as I write and there are many changes that continually take place. By the time I have actually finished I have re-constructed that "house" many times before I even considered moving in.
As far as the characters are concerned, (the people living inside this house), you have to get to know them quickly but only enough so you want to know more about them. As I write, these folks develop and sometimes even I am surprised when I find out who they really are and what they are capable of. Actually, it is the same as meeting real people. Sometimes you may meet someone and become life-long friends. Then there are those who initially impress you but you find out soon enough that they are trouble and you quickly distance yourself. But, you never know that immediately.
As far as dialogue: I try to write just the way people speak. I use slang ie; "ain't got" or "I dunno" depending on the character speaking. I also try to dialogue interaction where there is a minimal amount of "he saids" and "she saids." I try to do it in such a way that the reader knows who is speaking even though you are not saying who is speaking. That can be a bit tricky at times but I think it is important to do. Also, try to avoid long winded dialogue and speeches. Get it done in one or two sentences if possible.
To finish up let me just say that, as a writer, I am a work in progress just like my books. I am not too concerned how big or how fancy the house will be. My goal is to build something well crafted, durable and long lasting.
Let's start with "plotting". For me, I have the idea in my head. The more I think about this idea the more vivid things become. It is as if I am picturing a house I want to build. I know where the foundation will go and I can see the finished product with its roof, windows, doors, shutters and even shrubs. But, I have not been inside that house nor have I painted the outside. I still have to install plumbing, heating, electrical, cabinets, sinks, decide on colors etc. That's what it is like for me when thinking the story through from beginning to end. Where and how all of those necessary parts and pieces will fit together I do not know. It happens as I write and there are many changes that continually take place. By the time I have actually finished I have re-constructed that "house" many times before I even considered moving in.
As far as the characters are concerned, (the people living inside this house), you have to get to know them quickly but only enough so you want to know more about them. As I write, these folks develop and sometimes even I am surprised when I find out who they really are and what they are capable of. Actually, it is the same as meeting real people. Sometimes you may meet someone and become life-long friends. Then there are those who initially impress you but you find out soon enough that they are trouble and you quickly distance yourself. But, you never know that immediately.
As far as dialogue: I try to write just the way people speak. I use slang ie; "ain't got" or "I dunno" depending on the character speaking. I also try to dialogue interaction where there is a minimal amount of "he saids" and "she saids." I try to do it in such a way that the reader knows who is speaking even though you are not saying who is speaking. That can be a bit tricky at times but I think it is important to do. Also, try to avoid long winded dialogue and speeches. Get it done in one or two sentences if possible.
To finish up let me just say that, as a writer, I am a work in progress just like my books. I am not too concerned how big or how fancy the house will be. My goal is to build something well crafted, durable and long lasting.
May 4, 2012
Children's Book Week Giveaway Hop
Congratulations to our winner!lostandfound1220@hotmail.com
Enter to win the young adult ebook release, The Priest and the Peaches from Tribute Books.
1) Email subscribe to this blog (in the right sidebar) and confirm your subscription in the follow-up email you will receive.
2) Leave a comment with your email address.
***
The Priest and the Peachesby Larry Peterson
Historical fiction novel set in the Bronx in the mid-1960s
Take a seven day journey with the five, newly orphaned Peach kids, as they begin their struggle to remain a family while planning their dad's funeral.
They find an ally in the local parish priest, Father Tim Sullivan, who tries his best to guide them through the strange, unchartered and turbulent waters of "grown-up world." A story that is sad, funny, and inspiring as it shows how the power of family love and faith can overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles.
Larry talks about...a novel being set in the 1960s being deemed historical fiction
When I wrote The Priest & The Peaches, I did not anticipate it being classified as historical fiction. The story takes place in the mid 1960s and I grew up in the '50s and '60s. I always thought of "historic" as being way before my time, not during my time. The first thing I had to do was make sure I was not dead yet. I calmed down when my own left hand smacked me in my head and I heard myself say, "Oh man, get over it." I realized I was still breathing and I got over it.
The point is, I am far from being an authority on writing historical fiction. Since I actually experienced the point in time I was writing about much of my needed research was already categorized inside my head. All I had to do was begin opening dormant files that I had forgotten about. The writing helped me to open them. Somethings I did have to research such as clothing styles, hair styles, prices, automobiles and things like that. Otherwise, I had it easy being historical.
I do love history and there may very well be a historical work in my future. It may even have to do with the early Peach family going back to when their American journey began at Ellis Island. Here is what I can tell you. If you truly want to write historical fiction you must travel back in time (books, internet, letters, photos, etc) will help you get there. You have to "see" the streets, "smell" the odors, "talk" to the people and understand the culture of the time you are visiting. I might recommend as not only a learning tool but also an excellent read the book, Call Me Kate: Meeting the Molly Maguires by Molly Roe and published by Tribute Books. It takes you back to the 1860s to the coal mining country of Pennsylvania. It captures beautifully the people, streets, homes, and lives including hopes and dreams of the folks living during those days. If you want a good example of historical fiction, check it out.
The point is, I am far from being an authority on writing historical fiction. Since I actually experienced the point in time I was writing about much of my needed research was already categorized inside my head. All I had to do was begin opening dormant files that I had forgotten about. The writing helped me to open them. Somethings I did have to research such as clothing styles, hair styles, prices, automobiles and things like that. Otherwise, I had it easy being historical.
I do love history and there may very well be a historical work in my future. It may even have to do with the early Peach family going back to when their American journey began at Ellis Island. Here is what I can tell you. If you truly want to write historical fiction you must travel back in time (books, internet, letters, photos, etc) will help you get there. You have to "see" the streets, "smell" the odors, "talk" to the people and understand the culture of the time you are visiting. I might recommend as not only a learning tool but also an excellent read the book, Call Me Kate: Meeting the Molly Maguires by Molly Roe and published by Tribute Books. It takes you back to the 1860s to the coal mining country of Pennsylvania. It captures beautifully the people, streets, homes, and lives including hopes and dreams of the folks living during those days. If you want a good example of historical fiction, check it out.
May 3, 2012
Larry talks about...growing up in the Bronx with Damaris from GoodChoiceReading.com
It seems that Damaris (from GoodChoiceReading.com) was, like me, born and raised in the Bronx near Yankee Stadium. Well, Damaris, I am sure you are a bit younger than I so I imagine if you could step back into my Bronx world (I moved to New Jersey in 1967 when I got married) you might find it a bit different. Let me start with "feeling safe."
Did you know that when I was growing up we rarely locked our doors. During the heat of summer our windows and front doors were left open all night long with the hopes of catching a much wanted breeze that might pass through the rooms. It wasn't perfect. There was the time "Old Man" Molloy came home drunk and only managed to make it up one flight of stairs instead of two. He went into the apartment below and tried to climb into bed with Mrs. Connelly whose blood curdling screams can still be heard on summer nights if the breeze is right.(so I have been told). When we kids got home from school we immediately changed into our "play" clothes and, in a flash, were back outside. We played in the streets, roamed the neighborhood, and our parents only admonition was that we make sure we were home ON TIME for supper--or else. During summer vacation we spent days on end over by Yankee Stadium. When the Yankees were home we always got to see the players as they arrived and parked on 158th St. There was The "Mick" and "Yogi" and "Scooter" and "Moose" and 'Whitey" and we even got to know them a bit. We were usually able to sneak into the stadium by the second inning over on the 161st side (I think they looked the other way) and after the games you were allowed to run around the field and run we did pretending to be the "Mick" or "Scooter" making fabulous plays.
I am not sure how things changed so much. Now doors and windows are dead-bolted and have security locks and alarm systems monitoring them. Parents have to be aware of their kids whereabouts at all times. In fact, they might get into trouble with the authorities if they do not. I rode the subway alone for the first time when I was in 5th grade. I took the IRT from 161st (Yankee Stadium) down to 59th and Lex to meet my mother by Bloomingdales. No big deal. Yet a year or so ago a lady made national headlines when she allowed her 12-year-old son to ride the subway alone. She was arrested for child endangerment. So Damaris---whatever happened? Bottom line, we come from the same place but somewhat different worlds. Anyway, thank you for giving me the opportunity to do this. Now I have to leave to pick up my 9-year-old granddaughter at her after school play center and then pick up my 4-year-old grandson at his pre-K day care. Oh yeah, I make sure they are seat-belted in the car. When my kids were small they just rode free and unencumbered. Seat belts are a MUCH better idea. Guess I'm still in the mix.
Damaris' response to Larry:
Oh wow... things were definitely different for me growing up. But I also lived on the third floor of a building so our doors had to be locked at all times. I always remember Yankee Stadium being the "not so great" area. The only time it was safe (at least in my eyes) was whenever there was a game going on. There were always plenty of police officers around. A lot of the fields by Yankee Stadium are no longer there. They built a huge shopping mall on them. It really is sad to see how much things have changed in just eight years.
Thank you, Larry. I wish I could go back in time and see what the Bronx was like then.
Did you know that when I was growing up we rarely locked our doors. During the heat of summer our windows and front doors were left open all night long with the hopes of catching a much wanted breeze that might pass through the rooms. It wasn't perfect. There was the time "Old Man" Molloy came home drunk and only managed to make it up one flight of stairs instead of two. He went into the apartment below and tried to climb into bed with Mrs. Connelly whose blood curdling screams can still be heard on summer nights if the breeze is right.(so I have been told). When we kids got home from school we immediately changed into our "play" clothes and, in a flash, were back outside. We played in the streets, roamed the neighborhood, and our parents only admonition was that we make sure we were home ON TIME for supper--or else. During summer vacation we spent days on end over by Yankee Stadium. When the Yankees were home we always got to see the players as they arrived and parked on 158th St. There was The "Mick" and "Yogi" and "Scooter" and "Moose" and 'Whitey" and we even got to know them a bit. We were usually able to sneak into the stadium by the second inning over on the 161st side (I think they looked the other way) and after the games you were allowed to run around the field and run we did pretending to be the "Mick" or "Scooter" making fabulous plays.
I am not sure how things changed so much. Now doors and windows are dead-bolted and have security locks and alarm systems monitoring them. Parents have to be aware of their kids whereabouts at all times. In fact, they might get into trouble with the authorities if they do not. I rode the subway alone for the first time when I was in 5th grade. I took the IRT from 161st (Yankee Stadium) down to 59th and Lex to meet my mother by Bloomingdales. No big deal. Yet a year or so ago a lady made national headlines when she allowed her 12-year-old son to ride the subway alone. She was arrested for child endangerment. So Damaris---whatever happened? Bottom line, we come from the same place but somewhat different worlds. Anyway, thank you for giving me the opportunity to do this. Now I have to leave to pick up my 9-year-old granddaughter at her after school play center and then pick up my 4-year-old grandson at his pre-K day care. Oh yeah, I make sure they are seat-belted in the car. When my kids were small they just rode free and unencumbered. Seat belts are a MUCH better idea. Guess I'm still in the mix.
Damaris' response to Larry:
Oh wow... things were definitely different for me growing up. But I also lived on the third floor of a building so our doors had to be locked at all times. I always remember Yankee Stadium being the "not so great" area. The only time it was safe (at least in my eyes) was whenever there was a game going on. There were always plenty of police officers around. A lot of the fields by Yankee Stadium are no longer there. They built a huge shopping mall on them. It really is sad to see how much things have changed in just eight years.
Thank you, Larry. I wish I could go back in time and see what the Bronx was like then.
Billions & Billions & Billions-- Oh My
I had not heard from my good pal, Jumbo Feeney, in six months. Since the election is now only seven months away I was starting to harbor nervous thoughts about his well being. He always had plenty to say about most topics known to man, especially politics, so his silence was out of character. What was I ever thinking? He called last night and, as usual, was in mid-sentence by the time I had the phone next to my ear. "---and do you know---hey, Petie, you listening or what?"
"Jumbo, stop a second, will you. I just picked up the phone for crying out loud. You could at least wait until you hear me breathing or something."
"Fine Petie, fine. Well you're talking so you must be breathing so pay attention. You won't believe this. Okay, okay, you paying attention?"
"Yes Jumbo."
"Well, do you know what 16 trillion dollars means? It's crazy I tell ya---it's mind-boggling."
"Jumbo, please---stop! Hold on. What are you talking about?"
"Petie, Petie, 16 trillion. That's what I'm talking about. I just sat down and wrote it all down. Do you know how many millions make a billion? Do you?"
"Well, yeah. A thousand."
"Exactly Petie, a thousand million to make one billion. And these politicians talk about billions like it is pocket change."
"Well, you are sure right about that."
"You bet I'm right. It's not even their money--forget that, that's not the point. Anyway, think about this. If one thousand million equals one billion then one thousand billion equals one trillion, right?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess."
"No guessing, that's right. So it follows that one million million or one million times one million equals one trillion. Hey Petie, you getting all this?"
"I think so, Jumbo. Yeah, I got it."
"So if the good old USof A has debt of 16 trillion dollars that means the government would have to take ALL the money that16 million millionaires have just to break even. And by the time they collected the money the interest would have made created more owed and it wouldn't be enough and it would add 16 million more people to the food stamp rolls. And we don't even have 16 million millionaires anyway.
"Jumbo, Jumbo, stop---you're giving me a headache."
"Yeah Petie. You and a lot of other people are gonna have headaches.. Gotta go. Call you next week."
"Jumbo, stop a second, will you. I just picked up the phone for crying out loud. You could at least wait until you hear me breathing or something."
"Fine Petie, fine. Well you're talking so you must be breathing so pay attention. You won't believe this. Okay, okay, you paying attention?"
"Yes Jumbo."
"Well, do you know what 16 trillion dollars means? It's crazy I tell ya---it's mind-boggling."
"Jumbo, please---stop! Hold on. What are you talking about?"
"Petie, Petie, 16 trillion. That's what I'm talking about. I just sat down and wrote it all down. Do you know how many millions make a billion? Do you?"
"Well, yeah. A thousand."
"Exactly Petie, a thousand million to make one billion. And these politicians talk about billions like it is pocket change."
"Well, you are sure right about that."
"You bet I'm right. It's not even their money--forget that, that's not the point. Anyway, think about this. If one thousand million equals one billion then one thousand billion equals one trillion, right?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess."
"No guessing, that's right. So it follows that one million million or one million times one million equals one trillion. Hey Petie, you getting all this?"
"I think so, Jumbo. Yeah, I got it."
"So if the good old USof A has debt of 16 trillion dollars that means the government would have to take ALL the money that16 million millionaires have just to break even. And by the time they collected the money the interest would have made created more owed and it wouldn't be enough and it would add 16 million more people to the food stamp rolls. And we don't even have 16 million millionaires anyway.
"Jumbo, Jumbo, stop---you're giving me a headache."
"Yeah Petie. You and a lot of other people are gonna have headaches.. Gotta go. Call you next week."
May 2, 2012
Larry talks about...writing for young readers
I wanted to discuss writing for young readers. Okay, but remember I am not an expert and, to tell you the truth, I am not even sure what it means to be an “expert” in this area. The whole thing seems ambiguous to me. What I mean is this; many books classified YA are fine for adults also. MG might be okay for some YA readers and then, they might be okay for some savvy readers under eight. MG is classified 8 to 12. YA is classified 12 and up. Personally, I believe MG should range from about 10 to 14. YA should start at 15. My own rule of thumb is that I try to remember that MG kids are still discovering things inside themselves, especially as they head toward puberty. YA readers are discovering things outside themselves, like the realities of the adult world. Where do you transition? I’m not sure. I guess it comes down to some good old fashioned common sense.
Now that I have attempted to separate MG from YA what’s next? Okay, I think that MG books should be 125 pages or less and YA books should be 300 pages or less. When I was in high-school (a long time ago) required reading for us in junior year was Gone With The Wind. That was well over 900 pages long and I’m sure, in today’s world, might not be considered YA. So, who is to say? Certainly not me. The best advice I might give – READ YA books that have been out for awhile.
I would suggest that your writing should be be honest and straight-forward. Avoid being too “slick” or “tricky.” Kids are too smart for that and you will not win them over. But, you must make them think. Good luck. Also, avoid long sentences. The human brain starts losing focus often after the 20th or 25th word in a sentence. Another thing is I believe that the interaction between and among characters is crucial. Describing places with all the white, fluffy clouds overhead should be less, not more. For example, “At the foot of the steps the water was the color of gray foam,” or “At the foot of the steps, a long, curling string of seaweed lay upon the sand like a chubby snake watching the thin, legged sea gull hop to and fro in the gray foam.” Which do you think is best? You have to decide as you go along.
Now that I have attempted to separate MG from YA what’s next? Okay, I think that MG books should be 125 pages or less and YA books should be 300 pages or less. When I was in high-school (a long time ago) required reading for us in junior year was Gone With The Wind. That was well over 900 pages long and I’m sure, in today’s world, might not be considered YA. So, who is to say? Certainly not me. The best advice I might give – READ YA books that have been out for awhile.
I would suggest that your writing should be be honest and straight-forward. Avoid being too “slick” or “tricky.” Kids are too smart for that and you will not win them over. But, you must make them think. Good luck. Also, avoid long sentences. The human brain starts losing focus often after the 20th or 25th word in a sentence. Another thing is I believe that the interaction between and among characters is crucial. Describing places with all the white, fluffy clouds overhead should be less, not more. For example, “At the foot of the steps the water was the color of gray foam,” or “At the foot of the steps, a long, curling string of seaweed lay upon the sand like a chubby snake watching the thin, legged sea gull hop to and fro in the gray foam.” Which do you think is best? You have to decide as you go along.
May 1, 2012
Larry talks about...historical fiction set in the recent past
When I was knee-deep into the writing of The Priest and The Peaches I never considered that it might be considered historical fiction. I was of the mindset that I was simply writing a book at the YA level. In my mind “historical” dealt with things that had taken place way before I was but a twinkle in my parents’ eyes. Then the reality of the concept sunk in. The story was taking place during my early years on this planet. I was alive and experiencing those days that I was writing about. I suddenly felt old because I had become “historical” also. I realized that the time frame I was dealing with was almost 50 years ago. I was here and still reeling (as were so many others) over the Kennedy assassination. The Vietnam War was escalating and a close friend I had gone to school with, Stevie O’Shea, had just been killed in action bringing the war home to our neighbourhood. Medicare had just been signed into law. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 had been passed. A year earlier, the Civil Rights Act had also been enacted. There were riots in the Watts section of Los Angeles and The Sound of Music was released. I could go on but it is obvious why this work is classified as historical fiction.
I discovered that the advantage for me, as a writer and having actually experienced those days, was that they are part of who I am. The result is, when writing about the time frame, you can “feel” it. You were there and the sounds and sights and people are indelibly embedded in your mind. I did not realize that until I started jarring memories loose, memories that must have been stuck deep down in a hidden cave somewhere in my brain. So many things began popping up. It was like I had stuck a shovel in the ground, dug down and hit a hidden reservoir which contained my past. I was amazed that I was seeing “Joe the Bungalow Guy” driving his ice-cream truck down the street. Or “Little Louie,” the UPS man, and Gus, who had a merry-go-round on the back of a pick-up truck and for ten cents a kid could get on it and Gus would pull the thing around by hand. The subways, the candy stores, the movie theaters and so much more once again became vivid sights.
I guess I should end by saying that unexpectedly revisiting all of these memories became a part of the journey. It enabled me to see not only myself but my family and friends and so many things from days gone by. It was almost as if I were watching an old Super * movie reel. Talk about “perks” of the job. WOW!
I discovered that the advantage for me, as a writer and having actually experienced those days, was that they are part of who I am. The result is, when writing about the time frame, you can “feel” it. You were there and the sounds and sights and people are indelibly embedded in your mind. I did not realize that until I started jarring memories loose, memories that must have been stuck deep down in a hidden cave somewhere in my brain. So many things began popping up. It was like I had stuck a shovel in the ground, dug down and hit a hidden reservoir which contained my past. I was amazed that I was seeing “Joe the Bungalow Guy” driving his ice-cream truck down the street. Or “Little Louie,” the UPS man, and Gus, who had a merry-go-round on the back of a pick-up truck and for ten cents a kid could get on it and Gus would pull the thing around by hand. The subways, the candy stores, the movie theaters and so much more once again became vivid sights.
I guess I should end by saying that unexpectedly revisiting all of these memories became a part of the journey. It enabled me to see not only myself but my family and friends and so many things from days gone by. It was almost as if I were watching an old Super * movie reel. Talk about “perks” of the job. WOW!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)