Why the Publishing Industry Isn't Dying

One of the great things about my writing conference last month was talking about great YA books with other people who love YA books. So here are two lessons I need to mark down as learned.


1. When someone who loves the same books you do says you have to read something, go get it that day.

2. Do not start an awesome series until the entire series is finished, or else you will wait an entire year drooling for the next installment.

A couple of the girls at my conference kept mentioning Holly Black and two of her recent books, White Cat and Red Glove. I recognized the name from Twitter, but I had a stack of books from the last Friends of the Library sale to read, so I waited until this weekend to pick up White Cat. Once I started, I couldn't put it down. Holly Black is a genius, but I'll save the review for another post.

When I finished, I immediately ran to Barnes and Noble to pick up the sequel. After scouring the shelves, I landed at the customer service desk to see if they had it in stock. I kid you not, the girl at the counter said, "We don't have a physical copy, but we have the e-book on our website. You can go home and download it to your Kindle." I don't know if the girl realizes that her advice will eventually eliminate her job, or that she works at a store that sells the Nook, or if I look like someone who drove to a store because I didn't know I could download a book from my computer at home.

I drove my old-fashioned self over to Books A Million, where I purchased Red Glove. I paid full price for the hardcover because I love real books, and I couldn't wait to read it, and when my friend asked me to borrow a book the other day, she asked for the single book that I downloaded to my computer, and I couldn't lend it to her. The next time a friend wants to borrow a book, I will have White Cat and Red Glove in-hand.

The publishing industry is changing, but it isn't dying. Eventually I will get an e-reader. But whatever the format, there will always be readers like me, who will do whatever it takes to get their hands on a great story.

Music tonight: Thanks to Pandora for The Section Quartet's cover of Time is Running Out

My boys were playing with friends last week, and the game of choice was making silly videos with their cameras. My boys are seven and five. Their friend burst into the room with joy, eager to show me the video she couldn't wait to put on YouTube. Of course I paused to contemplate how much the world changes in a generation, but I quickly recovered and grasped the teachable moment. I told the kids they should always remember that once something is out there on the Internet, you can't ever take it back. "Oh, we know Ms. Laurie," they said. The kids ran off to play again; they didn't really post the video, but it wouldn't surprise me if they knew how to do it.

This week, another situation brought my point home. I received an email that had been forwarded to hundreds of people. It wasn't chain mail or a silly joke; it was serious. Here's a little exercise to illustrate. Imagine someone you work with has been implicated in criminal activity. Imagine how anyone with knowledge of the situation would respond and discuss official information. Personal might not be the right word to describe those electronic conversations, but at least you might expect some level of privacy. Now imagine every word, among a dozen involved parties, is leaked to the press.

I have a stake in the situation, and of course I felt like I deserved to be informed. I wanted the juicy tidbits, just like any other good gossip. And I truly believe the person who forwarded the email had good intentions, not to gossip or for personal gain, but to bring the situation into the light for open discussion. But I also felt like the method violated the people involved and their right to privacy. They had only written their comments for a limited audience, and didn't get a chance to revise for the masses.

Here's the connection. I warn my kids about how 'public' the Internet is, but sometimes I forget. Blogs, Facebook, Twitter, they're all out there. But sometimes I forget that when I send an email to someone, I can't ever take it back. I'm trusting that other person to use discretion. Hopefully one of the good things to come from all this is remembering that we're all at each other's mercy, really, when it comes to discretion.

Here's hoping I remember this lesson, not just for my kids, but for myself.

Tonight's music: Enjoying my Muse station on Pandora tonight. The highlight was Your Woman by White Town.

Back in June, an article in The Wall Street Journal caused a stir in the world of young adult fiction. (You can read it here.) I follow what goes on in that universe because I mainly read YA books, and I'm writing one. Most everyone with an online presence in the YA world had something to say about the article, which asserts that YA fiction is "too dark" and generalizes the genre as poison to the minds of our youth.

The article reeks of someone who has read about the books she describes, but not the books themselves. And that's why I didn't write about this whole business sooner. There is no surer way to make a fool of yourself than to take a stance on something that you don't know enough about, and honestly, I've only read a few of the books the author mentions.

Ay, there's the rub. I read around two YA books a week, and I have only read a handful of the books mentioned. Obviously there are plenty of books out there that don't fit into her poison box, because I read them all the time. In fact, the book I finished reading yesterday prompted me to write this post, but I'll get to that in a minute.

I picked up my first Stephen King when I was in sixth grade. At 12, it was a little too dark for me, and I lightened up by reading John Saul and Dean Koontz. From ages 12 to 14, I stuck to these blends of horror, mystery, sci-fi, etc., and by high school I moved back to King again, who I read alongside the Brontes and Hemingway and Hawthorne. I read these books because I was bored by the age-appropriate fluff I found back then. Anyone who thinks teenagers are reading dark stuff because it's in the YA section should peek over the rims of the rose-colored glasses. I read YA now because the books are entertaining and engaging, which is probably the same reason teens do, if they read them at all.


I recently had the good fortune to meet the talented Kristin Harmel, and yesterday I finished reading her most recent YA novel. After tells the story of 16-year-old Lacey, whose father dies in a car accident. Lacey's journey reflects real issues, with an ultimately positive, emotional resolution. I connected with the characters from the opening pages; I lost my own mother too soon. I would recommend After not only to teenagers, but to anyone who has lost a parent. (Click on the cover to find out more and read it for yourself!)


After is the antithesis of what is described in the WSJ article about YA. It is an awesome, uplifting read, and one more card stacking the deck of proof that YA is not "bulldozing coarseness or misery into children's lives." To the mother who couldn't find anything appropriate for her daughter to read, I say look harder. Ask librarians, book sellers, or other young readers for recommendations. Ask someone who knows where to find great books.

A few months ago, I was convincing my husband to take me to Lollapalooza for our anniversary. He swears I've permanently damaged his hearing dragging him to concerts, but he usually indulges me anyway. While searching for flights and hotels, somehow I stumbled upon a writing conference taking place the same weekend, in Jacksonville.

This wasn't just any writing conference, but one with a primary focus on critique groups. And the cost was equivalent to one ticket to the music festival I've dreamed of attending since I was a teenager.

Somehow life just slaps you in the face, at just the right time. What was my priority? Would I chase after my beloved Muse, and many other awesome bands, or would I focus on improving my writing?

I chose the conference. And, wow, did I make the right decision. This weekend I walked into a room full of strangers. I walked out enriched by the experiences and talent of ten unique, funny, brilliant writers. I hope to call them friends for years to come.

Writing is a solitary process. I feel so blessed to have joined a community of people who know what that solitude feels like. They have all stared at a blank screen. They've struggled for hours to find the right words. They know their characters better than they know their best friends. They all know the madness I've chosen to indulge, and they keep choosing it, too.

In honor of what I'm sure was a jaw-dropping performance by Matt and the gang this weekend, I'm listening to a Genius mix based on Muse's cover of Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want. While I do what I love. Write.

Until next time...

It's finished.

Last night I finished the first draft of my YA novel. I haven't blogged in a while because I've spent all my writing energy on this draft, and I can't believe that I've finally done it. The feeling is not quite as sweet this time around; I know that the hardest part still lies ahead, in the revising. I also have plans for a series, so the story is nowhere near over in my head. But at least this milestone is one giant leap forward from staring at a blank page all those months ago.
Tomorrow I'm going to my second writing conference, where I will be a part of my first critique group. The thought of ten strangers ripping my words to shreds terrifies me, but I know that this is just one more leap of faith on my writing journey.

That's all for now.

Music this week: enjoying some old-school Death Cab

Show, don't tell.

If you've ever taken a class or read a book on writing, you've heard it. Three little words provide the best, simplest writing advice. But this perfect sentence has an obnoxious cousin: "Easier said than done."

What got me thinking about showing verses telling? When I'm online, I usually end up on a random succession of websites that have nothing to do with why I got online in the first place. A few days ago, I ended up on a photo blog.

At first I thought, what interesting, artsy pictures! As I spent more time exploring, I found that not only were the photos beautiful, they showed the story of the artist's life. Through pictures alone, I learned how the artist likes to change her hair color, how she makes suit jackets and shorts stylish, what she likes to drink, what concert she went to last weekend, and how much fun it was. And I know not because she told the world, but because she showed us.

I might try my hand at this new art form. Whether I do or not, I appreciate the reminder of the power of "showing."

Now playing: Boy, Ra Ra Riot

Health update: What a difference six weeks makes! Today I washed dog #1 and clipped her nails, took dog #2 to the groomer, went to the grocery store, changed the sheets, paid bills, washed three loads of laundry, cooked dinner, and cleaned the kitchen. Thanks for all the well-wishes.

My favorite and most reliable way to find great new books used to be asking friends what they were reading and loving. I still do that. But my new method has moved up on the list, and it has me pretty excited.

Following blogs and tweets in the publishing industry leads to an ever-expanding network of more bloggers and twitterers. A while back, through that network, I started following Veronica Roth. I've enjoyed getting to know her over the past several months, all before the release of her first book. Of course I was cheering for her success. But I admit I'd wondered, what if I finally read the book, and I'm disappointed?

The novel was released this month. I finished reading it this morning, and not only was I not disappointed, I was thrilled. Ms. Roth linked the first hundred pages to her website, and I started reading yesterday. When I made it to page 100, I went straight to Amazon and bought the Kindle version, just so I could keep reading without going to the bookstore. (And I don't even have a Kindle- I read it on my Ipod. This was my first e-book.)

I wholeheartedly recommend Divergent, by Veronica Roth. I'm not going to review it like I normally would; I have all the links set up so you can check it out for yourself. This book is special to me because not only do I feel connected to the characters, I feel connected to the author. I'm proud of her accomplishment. I think you will be, too.