Off to NOLA

Headed to the American Library Association’s annual conference.
Next stop: New Orleans!

Saturday
2:00-3:00PM Justine and I are signing at the Penguin booth #1549.

Sunday
11:45AM-1:30PM The Pizza Luncheon w/Teen BBYA Participants
2:30-3:30PM I am signing at the HarperCollins booth #1116.
7:00PM Newberry/Caldecott Banquet

Monday
10:00-11:00AM I’m signing at the Simon & Schuster booth #1450.
8:00-10:00PM Printz Reception. (Yay, John Green!)

Will come back with photos, I promise. And the Big News is getting very, very close . . .

But in the meantime, don’t expect any quick replies.

The Pleasures of Research

While everyone’s been off chatting on Westerboard.com, I have been hard at work on book 1 my airship trilogy. There are 7,500 words in the bag, thank you.

Now unlike all my previous books, this one is not set in the future or the present, but in 1914. In other words, it’s in the past, that crazy country where they talk different, think different, dress different, and eat different. Well, okay, the future of Uglies is like that too.

But here’s the thing: You can’t make up the past!

You have to do research. Argh.

Of course, a book like Peeps had some pretty cool research in it. I had to understand all manner of parasites and rats and other ickies. However, I could do something simple like get two characters to sit down in a restaurant together without heading to the library.

But let’s say I wanted to go to a restaurant in my 1914 novel . . .

What were restaurants like in 1914? Did they have waitresses back then or just male waiters? How rich did you have to be to eat in one? How much would you have to dress up? How many things would be on a menu? And would it be handwritten, printed, or spoken? Would you pay with cash? Cheque? Or would they simply send the bill around to your house later, like other tradesmen did back then?

Eek.

One of the writers of House has been meditating on this lately, and points out:

You cannot write one paragraph of a novel without knowing a shocking amount: what the inside of your character’s head is like; how dusty the street they’re walking on is; what sounds they would hear; what direction they’re walking in (refer back to your several maps of Elizabethan London); what their clothes feel like as well as look like; what shops or houses they would pass; and any number of other details that will put the reader there with you.

Read this post by her too, about how you’re never right, no matter how many experts you’ve got helping.

But don’t think that research is all bad, because it’s also a) fun, and b) a font of new ideas and storylines. For example, I’ve been compiling a list of all the Things That Can Go Wrong with a Zeppelin, and boy are there a lot!

Excellent . . . After all, Things Going Wrong is conflict, and conflict is good.

So here are a few of my current favorite research books:

Hindenburg has text and glorious paintings by John Marschall. It has lots of cool fold-out diagrams like this one, which shows the front end of an airship control car:


The full-sized version shows much more.

I’m also loving the War Department’s Airship Aerodynamics Technical Manual, which tell you all kinds of fun stuff, like how to steer a blimp around an obstacle.

Plus it has cool pictures like this one:

I also like the historical reminder that it was called the “War Department” back then, and not the “Defense Department” (like we’d never invade anybody).

Another cool book is Sky Sailors, about the men of the Royal Naval Air Service, the guys who actually crewed the first British blimps and dirigibles. It’s finally answered my questions about what the ranks would be in the airship service. You know: Captain? Commodore? Admiral? Turns out they have this wacky mix of air force and navy: Flight lieutenants and coxswains, air marshalls and riggers (yes, riggers were guys who tied knots! And fixed airbags instead of sails), and even this rank called “engine room artificer.”

Artificer! How olde worlde is that?

Anyway, I’m having a blast. And I have a feeling that this book will be illustrated . . .

Talk amongst yourselves.

A Decade of Freelance

Ten years ago today I quit my day job.

Money had been saved, a novel was in the drawer, and my tech job was winding down. So I said, “Hey, I wanna work at home in my pajamas.”

For the first month, however, I got up, put on real clothes, and worked from nine to five. I was afraid of turning into a Howard-Hughes-like guy wandering around with Kleenex boxes on my feet. But after a month I got an agent, and after five I had a two-book deal (paying a whopping $9,000), so I did relax a little.

I’ve been crunching the numbers for that ten years, and here are the results.

Novels published under my own name: 13
Powerpuff Girls choose-your-own adventures (also under my name): 3
Goosebumps ghost-written: 5
Legal thrillers ghost-written: 1
Short stories published: 6
Essays published: 3
Interviews published: 1
Years before I made enough to write only as me: 8

Total ghost-written words: 240,000
Total words published under my own name: 1,015,000

That last statistic just curls my hair. It comes out to 100,000 words a year, which even with the ghost writing is only about 300 words a day. Still, there’s rewriting too, you know. And page proofs. Research. Thinking. Sick days.

And here are some things I realized:

1. Writing part-time is like going out with somebody; writing full-time is like living with them. It’s not just that you write more . . . your whole relationship to writing changes. For example, when writing has moved in and doesn’t pick its socks up off the floor, it’s not cute anymore, just hateful. But on the other hand, you know writing in ways you couldn’t have otherwise.

2. Writing too many books in one year = shingles. And you do not want shingles.

3. I crossed the million-word mark when Specials came out, and that was my first book to make the NY Times bestseller list. So that’s the rule, I guess.

4. Living with another writer totally rocks, even if it means you can’t leave your socks on the floor.

5. It’s worth it to pay for your own author photos, so you can look as silly as you want:


Credit: Samantha Jones, who in all fairness said I should take off the sunglasses

Ah yes, there’s one other thing that happened in that ten years . . .

Yesterday and today I wrote the first 1,427 words of Leviathan, my next trilogy, set in alternative-history airship heaven!* It’s really fun, and I can’t wait to write another million words. (But no shingles, dammit!)

*Book 1 comes out September 2007, so don’t be holding your breath. In the meantime, The Last Days comes out September 2006, and will get me up to 1,090,000 words.

Wiscon Report

I’m back from Wiscon and have at last recovered enough to post. Thanks to so many of you for holding down the fort with so many debates and conversations while I was gone. You managed to cover X-3, The Davinci Code, Hollywood adaptations, and even the dominance of religion in American life, all while staying extremely polite! (The outside-this-blog world of public debate could take a lesson here.)

But back to Wiscon: I had tons of fun. It’s too much to blog it all, so here are some random things to report:

Item:
Justine‘s new collection of eleven science fiction short stories written from 1927-2001, each with a critical essay about the story, sold about 50 copies over the weekend. That’s great for an academic book. (For more about what Justine did during the con, click here. She got to hang out with Ursula K. Le Guine and Samuel R. Delany more than I did.)

Item:
I met Livejournal Diva Cherie Priest, who turned out to be both smaller (size-wise) and more gargantuan (personality-wise) than I expected. It was a gas, and thanks to Liz Gorinsky for taking us out to the same dinner.

Item:
I met Deb Stone at my signing. She’s the American Library Association’s anti-book banning guru, and turned out to be a Serenity-hat-wearing sf fan to boot. (Great combination.) Weirdly, she told me that Uglies and Peeps have both been challenged by (wacko) parents in the last year. Now, I can sort of understand not wanting your kid to read Peeps because it’s so scary, but not wanting your kid to read something and yanking it from the library shelves are two different things. (Methinks the real reason for going after it may have something to do with certain people’s views of evolution.)

And Uglies? Excuse my abbreviated French, but WTF? Deb said it was mostly in middle-grade schools that it’s been challenged, but seventh-graders need bomb-throwing, surgically modifed eco-terrorist heroines too, you know.

Don’t worry, though, neither of the books have ever been successfully challenged. In fact, the ALA has never lost a court case over any book banning. (Rock on with your bad self, Deb.) The real problem is when books are quietly removed by principals who don’t want to make a fuss. When our side fights, we win . . . we just have to make sure we fight every time.

Item:
In related news, our lunch with the local Wisconsin book-protection team, the CCBC, was a blast. They’re a laugh a minute, and are always way up-to-date on the latest manga. Thanks for lunch, guys.

Item:
One of the things I love about Wiscon is the mystically expanding breakfast. If you check out this photo, you’ll see Justine and I having breakfast with seven other con-goers around a table design for TWO PEOPLE. Now that’s just funny. And all of them were brilliant writers!

Item:
Speaking of which, I got to hang out with Ted Chiang, who’s story “Liking What You See” first inspired the Uglies series way back in 2002. If you check out this interview, you’ll see he’s wicked smart. Bouncing ideas off him and all the other cool people at Wiscon led to many a brain-storm.

Of course by the end of five long days, we started to get some very silly ideas too . . .

Scott: So, I just got this idea for a multi-generational starship story.

Christopher: The kind where the passengers don’t know they’re on a multi-generational starship?

Scott: That’s the only kind! Okay, get this: each deck of the starship is designed to represent the same small middle-American city. But each one is set for a different decade. Like, deck three is the 1960s, deck four the 1970s, and so on.

Ted: And these micro-cultures don’t progress from one decade to the next?

Scott: No, they wake up every New Year’s Day with memory resets.

Christopher: And what’s the starship builders’ purpose for setting all this up?

Scott: Uh, well, it’s sort of a way to maintain . . . [masterfully explains].

Christopher and Ted: Yes, that makes perfect sense!

Scott: But the cool part is when the protagonist breaks through the fourth wall and starts taking the elevator up and down, and seeing the past and future of her own culture.

Ted: But without any time-travel paradoxes.

Scott: Exactly!

Christopher: Great, but what’s the plot? Like, exactly what is the protag doing, besides just exploring?

Scott: Um, well [takes long drink] . . . chasing a serial killer?

Ted: I can see you’ve put a lot of thought into this.

Scott: Dude. That’s cold.

Item:
Geoff Ryman, whose novel Air won the James Tiptree Award, charmed us all exceedingly and has become part of the Wiscon family.

Item:
Holly Black was sick all weekend, which made me sad.

Item:
Hanging out with comics writer Doselle Young has made me really, really want to finish my graphic novel. Watch this space for more details.

For more on Wiscon 30, check out Technorati, which already has hundreds of blog entries about the con. Whew.

Me start next novel now.

Wiscon Schedule

So Justine and I are headed to Madison, Wisconsin tomorrow morning for Wiscon, the world’s premier feminist science fiction convention. Here’s the schedule:

Wednesday: Justine’s doing this. I’m just hanging out.

Thursday: Having lunch with the Cooperative Children’s Book Center, Wisconsin’s elite strike force for keeping books from being banned in schools and libraries.

Friday: Seeing X-Men, yo.

Saturday: Justine has many panels. I’m just hanging out again.

Sunday:
1:00PM Reading with Chris Rowe, Gavin Grant, and Richard Butner.
2:30PM On a panel called “The Death of the Panel.” (how meta, dude)

Monday: Signing at the Big Sign Out, Madison Concourse Hotel.

Tuesday: Coming home. Sleeping, even though I won’t really be that tired.

As you can see, this isn’t a super exhausting convention for me. It’s mostly to see my writer pals and talk about writerly and science fictional stuff. Plus free food. Also, really cool people will be there: Nalo Hopkinson, Ursula K. Le Guin, Jane Yolen, and all these people too. Yikes, what a list!

Note: These aren’t really public events. You must be a member of the con to come to the panels and readings, and it’s all sold out.

Boy Books/Girl Books

Here’s an interesting question: Is Uglies a “girl book”?

Well, okay, if you put it that way, it’s a stupid question. It’s just a book, and it has as much supposedly “boy stuff” (things exploding, hoverboard chases, science fiction) as it does supposedly “girl stuff” (relationships, plastic surgery, things not exploding).

So the first thing I’ll say is, I’d hate for this post to suggest to anyone that these books aren’t for them. I write for everyone. (Except for boring people.) And I’d especially hate to suggest to any male readers that reading Uglies will “un-man” them. (Snorts derisively.) But it’s still a really interesting question about how readers see themselves, especially teens.

For example, I’ve seen the following in email and comments over the past few months:

A) Girls saying that they couldn’t get male friends to read the series.
B) Boys wondering if they’ll get hassled for carrying the books around.
C) And people of all genders saying the whole question is silly, of course.

It hasn’t been a huge thing. Most people who post here are pretty much into discussing the characters, themes, and imagery—which is as it should be. And no one seems to worry about Peeps, Midnighters, or So Yesterday. But there’s been just enough gender questions about Uglies to make me curious, and I’d like to hear from you guys. Because you’re all really, really smart.

So please answer whichever of these questions feel relevant to you:

1) When you suggest Uglies to friends, is it easier to get girls interested?
2) Do boys ever go “Nah, that’s girly!” if you suggest the books to them?
3) If so, do you think it’s the covers? The beauty themes? The titles?

And some other questions:
4) Do you think that girls read more than boys in general?
5) Do any of you boys feel weird talking about/carrying/liking Uglies?
6) Have I made you paranoid just by bringing this up?

Of course, my ulterior motive for doing this research is my next book, which is called:

Hah! Just kidding. But I had you going there, didn’t I?

Yes, I did.

Me in Locus

This month’s Locus is all about YA fantasy and sf, and that’s me gracing the cover with Holly Black and Kenneth Oppel!


Inset picture of me by Liza Groen Trombi

As you can see, tons of cool people have written essays for the issue, including Garth Nix, Nancy Farmer, Graham Joyce, Jonathan Stroud, and Ursula K. Le Guin! There are also reviews by Gary K. Wolfe of the entire Uglies series as well as Blue Noon.

I didn’t write anything, but I did sit for a multi-hour interview (back during the round the world trip) and tried to sound wise and smart. Then I posed for those photos trying to look rockstarish. Then they fed me and I got to see the awesome Locus collection of, like, every sf book ever published.

You can read excerpts of the interview here soon, as well as Kenneth’s and Holly’s interviews. But for the whole thing, you can buy the issue or subscribe. Locus is a great magazine, with interviews of sf and fantasy authors and tons of reviews every month. It’s also full of insider stuff, like what books are coming out, or have just sold or been optioned for movies. Highly recommended if you want to geek out on the publishing world. Sorry to sound like an ad, but we do actually live by Locus here in the Larbfeld household.

And the cool thing is, the editors are offering you guys free shipping on this issue (it’s $5.95), or the issue completely free with a year’s subscription. If that appeals, just click here.

And now Justine and I are headed for the Blue Mountains to celebrate my birthday (May 5, same as Michael Palin, Karl Marx, and Uda, the 59th Emperor of Japan). Happy birthday to me.

Reading in Sydney (updated)

For those of you on the east coast of Australia, a quick heads-up to say that Justine and I will be signing this week at Sydney’s premier sf bookstore, Galaxy Books.

Date: Thursday, April 27
Time: 6:00PM
Place: 143 York Street, Sydney CBD

We’ll be celebrating the Aussie release of Peeps and the import version of Magic Lessons.

Hope you can make it. (But we’ll understand if you’re, you know, 10,000 miles away and stuff.)

If you can’t, you can always read this cool interview with Justine.

Also, watch this space for big news early next week.

UPDATE: Okay, we did the reading and it was way fun. Thanks to all the folks at Galaxy for having us, and to Jess (who posts comments here) and our pal Deb for coming along.

Italian Uglies

Hey, sorry it’s been so long between posts. Justine and I were at Conjure up in Brisbane over the weekend. It was the Australian national sf convention, and a great time was had by all.

The most hilarious thing was the Juvenalia panel, in which Justine, Kim Wilkins, Sean Williams and I all read from our childhood and teenage writings. And oh, my, god was it funny. For the audience, at least. A friend of ours later said, “You guys’ body language got all teenagery as you read, as you madly shifted in your seats and rolled your eyes.”

And with good reason. Maybe I’ll post some of my juvenalia here some time. For any of you young’uns writing now, it will be eye-opening as to how much better you can get.

Kim’s stuff was very sweet and earnest, including a traffic safety guide penned when she was seven(ish). Sean, of course, had planets blowing up (his excellent novel Geodesica: Ascent also won the Ditmar Award at the convention—it is highly recommended). And Justine’s 15-year-old work was eerily like her current stuff.

It was a cool experiment. Yay to Kim for having the idea.

Upon our return to lovely Sydney, we discovered a cover mock-up for the Italian version of Uglies! Here it is in very rough form:

What’s interesting is that the face is pulled around from the back of the book, so there are two eyes instead of one. The face is also flipped, and, of course, the title’s on top now. Hmm. What do you guys think?

In Bologna, our Italian editor said she was having trouble with the title. She didn’t think that Brutti was as sonorous as Uglies, but couldn’t think of anything else that would make sense in Italian. But like I said, this is still a rough draft.

By the way, can anyone translate the tag line? Something about “Two rebels, two heroines . . . “?

Due ribelli, due eroine
in lotta per la liberta
in un mundo dove
essere belli e “legge”

We Are in the Times

News Alert: Blogsnake swallows own tail! World to end soon.

In other words, remember our discussion about Naomi Wolf’s article about Gossip Girl? Well, the NY Times just ran a round-up of blog responses to said article, and we were included. In fact, quotes from us consumed half the word count and therefore we are the champions, we are the champions, no time for losers, etc.

Oh, wait, do you guys know that song? I’m old.

Special congrats to Lenny and Momgeek for being quoted. And thanks to you all for getting me mentioned as the novelist who “maintains a running conversation with teens on his blog.” I maintain nothing! You guys do 93% of the work in making this blog interesting. And that reminds me, I was really blown away by the depth and thoughtfulness of that comment thread.

Yay, you.

And if you just came here from that link in the Times, sorry if this has been kind of circular. But what did you expect? Content?

Dude, I’ve got books to write.