Posts for category ‘the borg’

- How not to win new fans or the admiration of your peers. It’s one thing to talk like this if you are indisputably awesome. But if you are not, you should probably dial it down a bit.

- How to let your agent earn his or her money. I already knew this. I’ve found that taking every single career question or publishing issue to my agent, first, has not failed me.

- It’s not only YA writers who are addicted to the Twitter. Some stuff other author tweeters are up to: Susan Orlean is tired of her Sirius station, Tayari Jones lost a pair of shoes in her apartment, and Colson Whitehead is busy revising but not so busy that he can’t find time to tweet about Lost. That gives me a strange sense of hope concerning my revision and America’s Next Top Model.

- Considering our reputation as a pasty people who spend every moment with our noses in books, a looootttt of writers are really into college basketball.

- Blogging is not, as I wondered, dead. It’s just different, and based on the number of responses and RTs on Twitter, I wasn’t the only one wondering. Thanks for all your comments here, there, everywhere. I’m glad I mentioned it, because now I don’t feel quite so Major Tom-y about it…floating in a most peculiar way, with my protein pills and helmet, etc.

Twitter is Educational.

Be fruitful and multiply. See you back here next week.

It’s a question I ask myself often lately. When I first started my blog way, way back—2000, in fact, though you will not find archives going back that far, because as soon as I sold my first book I deleted blog 1.0, too personal—it was partly out of the frustration of being an unpublished writer with no audience. Now, starting a blog did not get me an audience, at first, but it gave me at least the partial satisfaction of putting my words out there. When blog sites first started adding the comment feature, I remember thinking, “Why would anyone want to do that? If someone is dying to respond to something I wrote, they can email me.” I didn’t get and could not foresee how interactive blogs would become, either the positive sort of connection that would come with it or the negative, reactionary comment culture that would also happen.

Of course I eventually went with the flow, turned on comments, duplicated the blog over at LiveJournal where many YA writers hung out, and began religiously reading my friends page and commenting myself. It was exciting to be part of the greater conversation about writing and the business, and back then, blogs and listservs were really the only way to do that. Now, that conversation has opened up and a lot of it has moved to Twitter. I don’t have time to read and comment on blogs the way I used to, and that seems to have led to fewer comments on mine, or folks do their commenting on Twitter and Facebook where my blog feeds—or commenting has been replaced with sharing, liking, and reTweeting.

Also, maybe because I’m not talking as much about the inner workings of my heart or the writing life as I used to, there is not that much that compels response. Most of my posts these days are links with a few thoughts thrown in, or updates on what I’m doing that readers might want to know about, and of course the ever-necessary work of reminding the world I’m a novelist with novels out that they may wish to purchase so that I can keep having a career. Let’s not forget or pretend to forget about that.

The changes in my blog habits are not accidental. Prior to being published and in the time right after, I was eager to share myself, and very open about my life. It felt natural to share myself; I believe most writers write at least in part to be known and understood. If no one wanted to publish and respond to my book, at least people could know and respond to me. (Are writers generally more in need of approval, attention, affirmation than normal people?) However, after being published, I’ve slowly come to develop a contrary need for privacy and the protection of my inner life.

Once you’re published, your books—as personal as they may be—don’t belong to you anymore the same way that they belonged to you while you were writing them. A piece of yourself also no longer belongs to you. The public person who goes out on tour and to conferences and trade shows is you, and it isn’t you. It belongs to your publisher, to teachers and librarians, to booksellers, readers, fans. Of course it’s great if this person is also authentically you, and I hope it is, and I think it is for me. I am her, it is me, etc. But because of this new layer of energy that comes with being a public person, even on a small scale in this little pond, I’ve gotten a lot more protective of what’s left. (And I understand why writers who are much, much more famous than me may sometimes come across as cold, curt, or unresponsive. If, with my career, I feel this layer of stress and the desire to self-protect, I can’t begin to imagine how it feels for someone dealing with real fame.)

So, what does that leave to blog about? And I mean thoughtful blogs, not the kind of micro-blasts that Twitter is so good at handling. It’s great for keeping readers up to date on Being a Writer stuff, yes. I’ll keep doing that. I could and have blogged about politics but I don’t really enjoy that, in the long run. Same thing with religion, unless it’s more about an aspect of personal faith, but that has started to fall into the “what I want to protect” category. That leaves culture and pop culture, lifestyle, and miscellany, and I’m not sure I have time or desire to add anything useful or interesting about that stuff (that can’t be handled on Twitter) when there is already so much noise. I do like to sometimes write about writing, and interview other authors, and I’ll keep doing that, too.

I would sort of love to go back to the carefree days when I didn’t worry that everything I posted could be seen as: too shallow, too deep, too political, politically unaware, too personal, impersonal, uninformed, over-informed, redundant, name-droppy, not name-droppy enough (i.e. not supportive of my fellow authors), whiny, ego-mad, falsely humble, etc etc etc. Of course, those were the days not very many people were reading my blog so none of it mattered. Maybe it still doesn’t matter. Maybe I’m thinking much too hard about this, as is my habit.

What do you think? If you’ve had a blog for awhile, how has your concept of what it is changed? Do you read and comment on blogs the way you used to? What are some of your favorite blogs…people who you think do it well? How do you see blogging in the future?

I said I was cashing out on talking about difficult topics like politics and religion on Twitter, etc. Then I read the paper this morning (which I need to stop doing – news-reading should happen after writing, otherwise my brain is much too full of the wrong kind of stuff) and dashed to my computer to react to things I had read. Ah well. Relapse is part of every recovery.

So, one of the things that’s making 2010 pretttty busy is that I’m doing some teaching, mentoring, coaching in various venues. I’ve mentioned them here before, but as a reminder:

- Writing & Illustrating for Young Readers Workshop – June 14-18 – Sandy, UT

A week-long intensive. Very excited about this. I’m not sure what kind of space is left for the workshops, but if you live in the area (or want to come out for it), you can register for the half-day conference and go to plenary sessions, breakout sessions, signing, and keynote (by Mary Pearson!). Half-day registration is only $125. Seriously—bargain. There is now a preliminary schedule of sessions up on the site.

- The Glen Online

I’m teaching an ongoing correspondence-course style class in YA fiction. If you’re just starting out, there are various assignments related to each of six lessons. If you have a work-in-progress, we can look at that in place of the assignments. You can start any time, and work at your own pace. If you have any questions about this, let me know.

- Manuscript Critique for Auction

I’ve donated a YA manuscript critique to Fire Petal Books, a startup kid/YA bookstore to be opened in Centerville. Right now, Mike Martin is the high bidder but I know he would love you to drive up the price to raise more money for the store. There are also a bunch of other very cool items for writers and aspiring writers.

No matter if you can’t do any workshops or classes or bidding right now – if you’re a writer and haven’t yet gotten to the publishing stage of your career, give yourself a few hours this weekend to write and enjoy it and reconnect and put all the industry news, the query drafts, the rejections, the buzz out of your head for a couple of days. Writing is pretty much a learn-by-doing craft so turn off the noise and go do some doing. I’ll do the same.

So Apple came out with its big new deal today. It’s more or less a giant iPhone with the alarmingly terrible name, iPad. Oy. Virtually every woman I know who heard it said that it sounds like a feminine hygiene product. I tweeted that I bet there were no women sitting in on that product-naming decision. A follower commented that there were barely any women in the ROOM when the product was announced. As I’m reading You Are Not A Gadget I’m noticing that I’ve yet to come across a woman’s name as Lanier mentions IT development over the decades and the important figures involved. He talks about the chopping up of personhood, the compartmentalization necessary in a world of bits and how that compartmentalization is changing our idea of what it means to be human, and I’m wondering—would any of this be different if more women had been involved in key moments of tech development? Does the very nature of software design and IT development tend not to attract women and their particular skill sets and interests? I know with that question I am coming dangerously close to a sweeping generalization and buying into Mars v. Venus/”math is hard” bs, but really, where are the women? Or do I have it all wrong? Are there plenty of women engaged in this world and we just don’t hear about them? I was thinking about all of this last night while reading Lanier, and the announcement of the iPad (gawd…really…a company like Apple, working on this product forever, with lots of time to give it an awesome name, could not do better??) has me wondering if things would be different with more women involved. How would it be different? Just pondering.

[Edited to add that Linda Gerber pointed out how utterly reminiscent this is of episodes of Mad Men in which Peggy's input is often ignored by the suits...I seriously can't believe that no one mentioned what the word "pad" evokes in half the population, so I can only conclude it was mentioned and ignored and the sixties live on! Woot!]

[Edited again to add that I watched the iPad video on Apple's site. All upper middle class thirty- and forty-something white dudes in $180 T-shirts. One says something like, "I don't have to change myself to fit the product; it fits me." Read the Lanier book and see how you have already changed yourself to fit the product. "You see something and you just reach out and tap it! You don't even think about it, you just do!" Awesome. And, there are no women in this video. As Apple reps or users.]

[Also: Yes, I want one. Of course! I am not bashing the 'Pad, yo. It is a cool toy. I like cool toys as much as anyone. Just ask my credit card. I'm only saying to view advertising as advertising, be wary, deconstruct messages, and...wonder where the women are.]

- So apparently I’m not being an alarmist when I fret over the future of our brains. Study shows kids spend every waking minute online. In related news, parents “can still make rules and it still makes a difference.” You don’t say!

- The founder of Taco Bell died and much to my surprise, his last name was Bell. When I relayed this bit of information to my husband, he was quiet for a second and then asked, “What was his first name?” (If that is not hilarious to you, I don’t know what would be.)

- Interesting article on snacking culture, though it doesn’t reach a satisfying conclusion, which to me is: Fifty years ago when we did not have rampant obesity and metabolic disorders, people were mostly drinking whole milk, eating delicious fatty meats, and not subjecting themselves to spinning and Pilates. Guess what didn’t exist? The snack food industry. (Read Michael Pollan’s In Defense of Food.) A nutritionist quoted in the article says kids will self regulate. But we already know nurture can trump nature, and if adults are constantly offering snacks, eventually kids will lose touch with hunger.

- Do you read Tayari Jones’ blog? You should. She always finds the best links for writers. For instance.

- Story on NPR this morning about areas of Haiti where communities are coming together to help each other though outside aid is not reaching them. Moving.

It was Friday night. I felt restless and alive, a formerly huddled mass yearning to be free. Having long pondered the folly of interacting with others out of a flimsy and incomplete construction of myself defined by “stuff I like” and “stuff I own” and “stuff I think once sentence at a time,” I thought I’d delete my Facebook account. So I followed the instructions, and got the following message:

Your account has been deactivated from the site and will be permanently deleted within 14 days. If you log into your account within the next 14 days, your account will be reactivated and you will have the option to cancel your request.

What is this, the Hotel California? In the age of caller ID, data recovery, aggregation, the archived cloud…it’s awfully difficult to do anything rash. Or, I should say, too easy and too consequential, and at the same time too difficult to do something rash and get away with it, like delete your entire inbox, disappear your Facebook account without leaving a trace, dial the number of someone you shouldn’t call, come to your senses, then hang up… I pity children today who don’t know the thrill of making a good crank call.

Anyway, you know what the Facebook thing reminds me of? Back in my online poker-playing days I learned that if in a moment of clear-eyed determination you wanted to cash out your account while you were ahead, the automated cashier would tell you yes, you can cash out, but the transaction takes 7 days so if you want to come back during that time and gamble your money away it will be right here waiting for you.

After a phone conference with the fabulous yet sensible Coe Booth, I was convinced to let my Facebook account live. But, I am cashing out, at least on particular ways of using the Internet: As a platform for being right or proving other people wrong, as something to which I feel daily obligated, for having conversations that are best had over lunch, coffee, or an adult beverage. Reacting out of context. Saying anything that can too easily be misread. (This past week I discovered you really shouldn’t try to debate all of the implications of the Haiti disaster or why Rush Limbaugh is wrong about everything in 140-character bursts.) Cashing out on listening to the little voice inside me that asks, “If I’m not being right, demonstrably smart, witty, savvy, and getting good reviews as a person, writer, blogger, social networker…do I matter?” I was talking to one friend about this and she brought up the idea of the performative self, which led me to ask, “You mean there’s a NONperformative self?” Huh. Who knew.

Oh, so you’ve heard me talk this talk before? I waffle, I know. Of Web 2.0 sometimes I think, “MY GOD IT’S BRINGING ABOUT THE APOCALYPSE!” Other times I see it’s pretty useful, and brings about some good things. But, generally I’m feeling more urgent about this as an issue for society and humanity and our ability to listen, think critically, love, create, and live lives in which “interaction” does not always mean with a screen. How to balance that with a career that benefits from connectivity during the long stretches of time between books, in an industry that has many interesting and important ongoing conversations facilitated by aforementioned apocalyptic technology—that’s the question, that’s the figuring out that needs to be done. I’ll tell you, it’s temping to go off the grid completely. In the last year I have come so close to pulling the plug on everything but the house phone. That’s a reaction, of course. I’ve been thinking through what I’m reacting against and trying to problem solve instead of running away.

The big old experiment in the laboratory of my brain continues.

In other news, I am so thrilled that Rebecca Stead’s When You Reach Me won the Newbery Medal. I loved that book. Though it’s brand new, it somehow managed to feel like a piece of my childhood, and I can’t think of any other book not actually from my childhood that has done that. Congratulations, Rebecca! And congrats to all of the ALA winners and honor books. The only other books I’ve read that won something are Marcelo in the Real World by Francisco Stork and Flash Burnout by LK Madigan. Loved and blurbed ‘em both.