The older I get and the more I think about the way I wish the world worked, the more I study things for patterns. It's simplistic to suggest that all of society's problems can be boiled down to one specific thing, but I do think there are certain behaviors that are indicative of the culture at large, and one of the ones I find most disturbing is the way everything seems to have become a competition. It makes me wonder: are we so busy competing with one another that we've forgotten about the power of collaboration?
You can learn a lot about a society by studying its popular culture, and I think part of the reason why dystopian young adult literature is so popular is because it explores this theme of life as competition. The Hunger Games is the most specific example, of course, but there are others as well: the Divergent series, the Partials series, and many others I could name. While many of these books don't explicitly talk about competition in so many words, it's one of the central themes in the books. In essence, these books show, there is an "us versus them" mentality that can have a very insidious effect on our world.
When I came up with the idea for the Contributor series before NaNoWriMo 2011, I thought I'd write about education and how it's becoming more of a competition by the day. Students are under a lot of pressure to be the highest performers, to be the quarterback or the class president or the captain of the girls' swim team. Teachers are expected to compete with other teachers, and oftentimes their job performance is judged based not on how much their students have improved, but on how they stack up against their colleagues.
However, as I wrote, I realized that this cultural shift has applications outside of the classroom as well. Rather than providing her with an education, Dara's schooling is more like a training program for how to be competitive in life. Everything in the world of Contributor becomes a competition: who's the best performer, who gives the best presentations, who can contribute the most to their Job Creator?
But is this the best way to look at the world? When we're so focused on individual achievement, are we overlooking what can be accomplished if we form teams? Speaking as a former teacher who witnessed how overbooked many of her students were, I think a lot of teenagers are tired of the constant competition--and they haven't even made it to college yet. I think that's why many teenagers like reading about the struggles of characters in dystopian novels. It's satisfying to think that it's possible to buck the system and win.
Yet, it's not as if adults have this figured out either. It's hard not to be aware of what's been going down on Goodreads and the books blogosphere if you happen to be an avid reader, as I happen to be. I find it perplexing that some authors view other authors as "competition". I find it strange that authors feel their competitive edge is threatened by readers who happen not to like their books, and who write reviews to express their negative opinions.
This makes absolutely no sense to me. First, because tastes in reading are subjective. It hurts when someone doesn't like one of my books and is critical about it, but it also helps me to grow as a writer to read their critiques and reflect on them. Chances are, I can learn something from those critiques. And, secondly, if a reader dislikes what I write, it doesn't automatically mean every other reader will dislike it as well. Part of the beauty of the way the book world is turning is that there's more choice than ever, which means authors get to tell the stories they want to tell and readers can read the stories they want to read. Everyone wins. There's no need to think of it as a competition.
I guess what I'd like to see in all walks of life is for people to take a minute and to reflect, really reflect on what benefits the world most. Of course we need to have those extraordinary people who stand out, who can achieve big things. But not everyone can be that extraordinary person. And that is where collaboration comes in. By working with others, by thinking about their opinions and their ideas, we can create things that no individual could ever have created on their own.
Now, I'm not saying that I'm perfect and I'm above it all. I'm as guilty of engaging in unhealthy competition as anyone else, but I know this, and I want to change it. When I think about my particular corner of the world, I see readers and writers who can work together to make books and stories that are better than ever. I love the way the publishing world is changing, and I'm eager to take it all in and benefit from it as much as I can. That's why you'll see me promoting other authors' works or writing reviews of books I particularly enjoyed. I want to promote other people and, hopefully, they'll want to promote me as well. That is the effect that collaboration can bring about.
Showing posts with label young adult. Show all posts
Showing posts with label young adult. Show all posts
Monday, September 24, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Contributor, Now available for purchase on Amazon!
I'm extremely happy to announce that Contributor is now available for purchase on Amazon! If you're a Prime member, you can also borrow the book for free and, as always, my books are and forevermore will be DRM-free!
Don't forget--tomorrow, September 7, you can download a free copy of Creators from Amazon!
Don't forget--tomorrow, September 7, you can download a free copy of Creators from Amazon!
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Woo Hoo Wednesday: It's finally done!
Right now, the temptation is strong in this one (10 points to Gryffindor if you get that reference!) to run around in circles pumping my fists in the air. Why? Because I just finished hitting the button to upload Contributor to Amazon! For some reason, I feel like I've been working on that book for the last three hundred years. Then again, I guess I get like that with all of my books, when I've spent months doing copyedits. I reach a point where every last word in the book looks like it's made up or misspelled.
So, now that I've put the book to bed, I'm pretty sure I'll go about twenty-four hours before I start feeling like I need to chain myself to my desk and finish the next book. That's the sad thing about me as a writer--and I don't think I'm alone in that. With my old, traditional jobs, there was a clear line between when work started and when it ended. Not so much with writing, where I feel this compulsion to be doing it almost constantly. Or maybe I'm just the world's most exacting boss, who knows?
Another big woo hoo goes to the fact that school is in session and the cleaning company is coming to clean the house this week. While I had a fun summer, it'll be nice to have some time to buckle down and do some serious writing, particularly with NaNoWriMo beginning to appear on the horizon. Ah, I can hear the siren's call of the annual November insanity already! Soon I'll be snarfing bites of turkey while banging away at the keyboard. Who's with me this year? I need some more people to share in the
Last but certainly not least, an absolutely ginormous woo hoo shall be shouted from the rooftops because of my August sales. Seriously, my readers are awesome. I still can't believe you're paying actual, real money for something I wrote. I'm not exactly making a living wage at this point, but August has been my best month yet, and my sales have increased every month by at least 25%, so I'm definitely not complaining. It feels absolutely amazing to make ANY money doing something I love so much. I mean, I'm getting paid to play around in my imagination all day long. How cool is that?
I'm just going to leave this here while Amazon is in the process of publishing Contributor:
As they say in Contributor-land: Have a productive day!
(Psssst: Don't forget that Creators will be free on Friday, September 7.)
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Tuesday Teaser: Sneak Peek at Contributor!
I'm back from my end-of-the-summer hiatus, raring to focus on my fall writing schedule. On the agenda: book two in the Contributor series (which I've already started), and my NaNoWriMo project, which will be my alternative take on Sleeping Beauty. I'm really excited about both of them, and am looking forward to getting back into the fairytale genre in November.
However, before those two is the upcoming publication of Contributor. I've got an amazing cover for it, and am working on polishing up the last bit, but I'll be sending it over Amazon's way tomorrow, which means it should be available for purchase on Thursday! Also, to celebrate the release of Contributor, I'm running a promotion: download a copy of Creators (the prequel novella to the series) for FREE on Amazon on Friday, September7.
To whet your appetite, I thought I'd offer a little taste of Contributor. I hope you enjoy it!
*****
“As for you, Apprentice Morrow,” Andersen said, bringing her work up on the screen. Her throat constricted and she could barely breathe. “Your solution was quite ingenious.”
Surprised, Dara hazarded a glance at Letizia, who gave her a searing glare.
“It’s unfortunate that you made such an inexcusable error in the beginning,” Andersen continued, staring at her. She felt like sinking down in her chair, through the floor, and continuing on down into the depths of the earth. “Had Apprentice LeTour not caught it, your solution would have resulted in even more extensive damage. An innovative mind is a useless quality in an engineer who makes stupid errors, errors that could cost Magnum millions.”
Dara went completely numb. She felt as though her fingers and toes had turned to ice, and she feared they might begin to crack, shattering her into a million tiny pieces. Still, that would probably be far less painful than the public dressing down she’d just received.
“Cheer up,” Javier murmured as they left the room. “He did say your solution was quite ingenious.” Surprised, Dara glanced at him. He grinned crookedly at her.
“Um, thanks,” she said.
“No problem.”
Warming up to him, she smiled ever so slightly. “Thanks for what you said to Ryan too.”
“Don’t think that means we’re on the same side, Dara. There can only be one of us left at the end, and I don’t like you that much.” He winked.
Feeling her spine stiffen, Dara nodded curtly and increased her pace, leaving him trailing in her wake.
However, before those two is the upcoming publication of Contributor. I've got an amazing cover for it, and am working on polishing up the last bit, but I'll be sending it over Amazon's way tomorrow, which means it should be available for purchase on Thursday! Also, to celebrate the release of Contributor, I'm running a promotion: download a copy of Creators (the prequel novella to the series) for FREE on Amazon on Friday, September7.
To whet your appetite, I thought I'd offer a little taste of Contributor. I hope you enjoy it!
*****
“As for you, Apprentice Morrow,” Andersen said, bringing her work up on the screen. Her throat constricted and she could barely breathe. “Your solution was quite ingenious.”
Surprised, Dara hazarded a glance at Letizia, who gave her a searing glare.
“It’s unfortunate that you made such an inexcusable error in the beginning,” Andersen continued, staring at her. She felt like sinking down in her chair, through the floor, and continuing on down into the depths of the earth. “Had Apprentice LeTour not caught it, your solution would have resulted in even more extensive damage. An innovative mind is a useless quality in an engineer who makes stupid errors, errors that could cost Magnum millions.”
Dara went completely numb. She felt as though her fingers and toes had turned to ice, and she feared they might begin to crack, shattering her into a million tiny pieces. Still, that would probably be far less painful than the public dressing down she’d just received.
“Cheer up,” Javier murmured as they left the room. “He did say your solution was quite ingenious.” Surprised, Dara glanced at him. He grinned crookedly at her.
“Um, thanks,” she said.
“No problem.”
Warming up to him, she smiled ever so slightly. “Thanks for what you said to Ryan too.”
“Don’t think that means we’re on the same side, Dara. There can only be one of us left at the end, and I don’t like you that much.” He winked.
Feeling her spine stiffen, Dara nodded curtly and increased her pace, leaving him trailing in her wake.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Sample Sunday: Creators: The protests begin
What if you had to choose who will live and who will die?
“There isn’t enough food, is there?” Mei asked quietly. The angry expression had faded, replaced by one of concern, and Liang knew she was worried not just about the decrease in the food supply, but also about him.
“No, there isn’t,” he admitted. In a way, it was a relief to unburden himself at last. He felt lighter for not having to conceal the knowledge any longer, but rather than making him feel better, this made him feel worse. How could he be relieved to know that his sister would now have to be as burdened by the awful knowledge as he was?
Mei picked up her napkin and toyed with it, winding it around her fingers. “I suspected as much. I’ve been doing calculations, and I knew the numbers weren’t adding up.”
Liang paused in his pacing and smiled ruefully at his sister. “I should have known you’d start calculating.”
“I’ve also been calculating the yield from the hydroponics, and I know those numbers don’t add up either. So what next?”
Righting his chair, Liang dropped into it, suddenly exhausted. “We step up production on the domes and activate them ahead of schedule.”
He sat quietly, watching the emotions play over his sister’s face as she worked out what this meant. It seemed she, like him, was trying to reject what was becoming apparent.
“So, that means…” she began, but her voice faltered. She bit her lower lip, and tears welled in her eyes.
“It means that the leadership team has to do an evaluation of all our Contributors. It means we have to place every last one of them on a scale, from necessary to dispensable,” he said, the words bitter on his tongue.
His sister stifled a sob and turned her head away from him. He looked away as well, unable to bear her pain. It reminded him too much of his own.
“But…but how… What are you going to say to people?” she finally asked, breaking the heavy silence.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. There will be no announcement to the public of what we’re doing. Instead, people will be moved into the domes in stages and, after the last stage, the domes will be sealed. And I’ll have to live with the knowledge that I condemned thousands of people to death without saying a word to them.”
“You can’t be serious! The Job Creators can’t just keep people in the dark like that!” Mei cried, rising from her seat.
“Think about what would happen if we told them.” He softened his voice, trying to get her to calm down. Her shoulders tensed and then collapsed, and she sank into her chair.
“But it’s not fair.” Her protest was a mere whisper, and Liang responded to it with a bitter laugh.
“Not fair? It’s cruel, is what you mean. We’re leading people to believe we’re conducting more dome tests and then, when the doors are permanently sealed and the realization of what’s happening to them sinks in, those of us who were lucky enough to have a ticket to the inside will go about our business as if millions of people aren’t dying right outside our doors.”
Mei sobbed, and Liang was stricken that he’d spoken so baldly. He had desperately wanted to protect his sister, then he had given her the truth in such harsh terms. But was there any gentle way of delivering such news?
They sat silently for a long time, their food untouched—which only served to make Liang feel even guiltier. Here they were, the world on the brink of a famine that would kill billions, and he was wasting food because he didn’t feel like eating. The thought made him sick to his stomach and he doubled over, wrapping his arms around his midsection.
“You know, I used to be so jealous of you,” Mei said softly, her voice startling him out of his miserable reverie. “I used to wish that I was the oldest, that I could be the CEO of Zhang Agritech. But now…now that I know what’s going on, Li, I…I don’t even know what to say. I wouldn’t want anyone to be in the position you’re in, least of all you.”
“Someone has to make the decisions,” Liang said, clutching his stomach.
“That’s the really horrible part, isn’t it?”
*****
“There isn’t enough food, is there?” Mei asked quietly. The angry expression had faded, replaced by one of concern, and Liang knew she was worried not just about the decrease in the food supply, but also about him.
“No, there isn’t,” he admitted. In a way, it was a relief to unburden himself at last. He felt lighter for not having to conceal the knowledge any longer, but rather than making him feel better, this made him feel worse. How could he be relieved to know that his sister would now have to be as burdened by the awful knowledge as he was?
Mei picked up her napkin and toyed with it, winding it around her fingers. “I suspected as much. I’ve been doing calculations, and I knew the numbers weren’t adding up.”
Liang paused in his pacing and smiled ruefully at his sister. “I should have known you’d start calculating.”
“I’ve also been calculating the yield from the hydroponics, and I know those numbers don’t add up either. So what next?”
Righting his chair, Liang dropped into it, suddenly exhausted. “We step up production on the domes and activate them ahead of schedule.”
He sat quietly, watching the emotions play over his sister’s face as she worked out what this meant. It seemed she, like him, was trying to reject what was becoming apparent.
“So, that means…” she began, but her voice faltered. She bit her lower lip, and tears welled in her eyes.
“It means that the leadership team has to do an evaluation of all our Contributors. It means we have to place every last one of them on a scale, from necessary to dispensable,” he said, the words bitter on his tongue.
His sister stifled a sob and turned her head away from him. He looked away as well, unable to bear her pain. It reminded him too much of his own.
“But…but how… What are you going to say to people?” she finally asked, breaking the heavy silence.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. There will be no announcement to the public of what we’re doing. Instead, people will be moved into the domes in stages and, after the last stage, the domes will be sealed. And I’ll have to live with the knowledge that I condemned thousands of people to death without saying a word to them.”
“You can’t be serious! The Job Creators can’t just keep people in the dark like that!” Mei cried, rising from her seat.
“Think about what would happen if we told them.” He softened his voice, trying to get her to calm down. Her shoulders tensed and then collapsed, and she sank into her chair.
“But it’s not fair.” Her protest was a mere whisper, and Liang responded to it with a bitter laugh.
“Not fair? It’s cruel, is what you mean. We’re leading people to believe we’re conducting more dome tests and then, when the doors are permanently sealed and the realization of what’s happening to them sinks in, those of us who were lucky enough to have a ticket to the inside will go about our business as if millions of people aren’t dying right outside our doors.”
Mei sobbed, and Liang was stricken that he’d spoken so baldly. He had desperately wanted to protect his sister, then he had given her the truth in such harsh terms. But was there any gentle way of delivering such news?
They sat silently for a long time, their food untouched—which only served to make Liang feel even guiltier. Here they were, the world on the brink of a famine that would kill billions, and he was wasting food because he didn’t feel like eating. The thought made him sick to his stomach and he doubled over, wrapping his arms around his midsection.
“You know, I used to be so jealous of you,” Mei said softly, her voice startling him out of his miserable reverie. “I used to wish that I was the oldest, that I could be the CEO of Zhang Agritech. But now…now that I know what’s going on, Li, I…I don’t even know what to say. I wouldn’t want anyone to be in the position you’re in, least of all you.”
“Someone has to make the decisions,” Liang said, clutching his stomach.
“That’s the really horrible part, isn’t it?”
Monday, July 16, 2012
Motivational Mondays: From one book to the next!
Happy Monday! This is pretty much the summer of vacations for me. I went on one at the end of June, came home for a week, and then left for the next. The end result is, my house is desperately in need of cleaning and I am so not motivated to do it. However, I've been really productive in the book department, so I'm happy about that!
What I’m working on: Now that Creators is finished and published, it's time for me to turn to Contributor. I entered it in ABNA this year, so I'd already done several rounds of edits, but I'm going to put it on my Kindle and do another round of edits. I've found that doing this is a really effective way at catching small errors (i.e. using "or" when I meant to use "of"), and it also lets me see how the book will look once it's finished. I'll also give that one a spin through SmartEdit as that program was extremely helpful when I was doing the edits on Creators.
What I hope to achieve: This week, I'm scaling back my expectations because I did just publish another book. The problem I find with writing is that I feel a sort of compulsion to work constantly. If I'm not writing, I'm feeling guilty about not writing. However, as with any job, it's also important to have some down time and to do other things like reading or exercising or cleaning my house. If I don't take the time to relax, I start feeling really frazzled and stressed out and that really does nothing to improve my writing. So, for this week, I'll maybe read a few chapters of Contributor.
What are my challenges: House cleaning. Seriously. It takes up so much time it's unreal. Also, as I mentioned, I need to give myself permissions to just relax once in a while.
What freaks me out: I'm not sure if it's because The Eye of the Beholder has already been out there for a while, but I'm not quite as terrified of bad reviews this time around. Granted, I know it'll be tough to get bad reviews, but I think publishing that first book was the point where I really stepped off the cliff.
My one big worry about writing a trilogy is maintaining consistency. I never thought about how HUGE writing a series is until I start writing one. Now I worry a lot about readers contacting me saying, "In book 1, character A says this but, in book 3, they do something that totally contradicts it." I once read there was an editor whose sole function was to read all of J.K. Rowling's books to make sure the spells were consistent throughout the series. It seemed kind of strange to me at the time, but now I totally get it.
What’s making me happy today: Having another book published, of course! And the fact that I've already had my first sale. I'm also very pleased that The Eye of the Beholder continues to sell a few more copies each month. Progress is good!
Teaser for Tuesday: Tomorrow I'll offer a first peek at Contributor. Though Creators is part of the universe, it's a standalone story, so Contributor will offer the first look into the meat of the trilogy.
What I’m working on: Now that Creators is finished and published, it's time for me to turn to Contributor. I entered it in ABNA this year, so I'd already done several rounds of edits, but I'm going to put it on my Kindle and do another round of edits. I've found that doing this is a really effective way at catching small errors (i.e. using "or" when I meant to use "of"), and it also lets me see how the book will look once it's finished. I'll also give that one a spin through SmartEdit as that program was extremely helpful when I was doing the edits on Creators.
What I hope to achieve: This week, I'm scaling back my expectations because I did just publish another book. The problem I find with writing is that I feel a sort of compulsion to work constantly. If I'm not writing, I'm feeling guilty about not writing. However, as with any job, it's also important to have some down time and to do other things like reading or exercising or cleaning my house. If I don't take the time to relax, I start feeling really frazzled and stressed out and that really does nothing to improve my writing. So, for this week, I'll maybe read a few chapters of Contributor.
What are my challenges: House cleaning. Seriously. It takes up so much time it's unreal. Also, as I mentioned, I need to give myself permissions to just relax once in a while.
What freaks me out: I'm not sure if it's because The Eye of the Beholder has already been out there for a while, but I'm not quite as terrified of bad reviews this time around. Granted, I know it'll be tough to get bad reviews, but I think publishing that first book was the point where I really stepped off the cliff.
My one big worry about writing a trilogy is maintaining consistency. I never thought about how HUGE writing a series is until I start writing one. Now I worry a lot about readers contacting me saying, "In book 1, character A says this but, in book 3, they do something that totally contradicts it." I once read there was an editor whose sole function was to read all of J.K. Rowling's books to make sure the spells were consistent throughout the series. It seemed kind of strange to me at the time, but now I totally get it.
What’s making me happy today: Having another book published, of course! And the fact that I've already had my first sale. I'm also very pleased that The Eye of the Beholder continues to sell a few more copies each month. Progress is good!
Teaser for Tuesday: Tomorrow I'll offer a first peek at Contributor. Though Creators is part of the universe, it's a standalone story, so Contributor will offer the first look into the meat of the trilogy.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
I've published a new book!
I'm really excited to announce the publication of my new book, Creators! It's a prequel novella to my forthcoming Contributor trilogy. It's a YA post-apocalyptic novel--very different from The Eye of the Beholder. It's been really fun for me to tackle a new genre.
Without further ado, I give you Creators:
Liang and the other Job Creators have only weeks to choose which of their staff and families to move into the domes, the last refuges on the barren planet. Despite their best efforts, the Job Creators are unable to keep their selection project under wraps, spurring violent protests against the privileged few.
Now, Liang must race: against starvation, against insurrection, and against his own conscience.
You can purchase the novel or download a sample on Amazon.
Sample Sunday: Mira stands up to the Beast
“Mira, you are a sentimental fool,” I said, shaking my head and smiling rather condescendingly at her. “Your heart bleeds for those who know nothing of you and care nothing for you. Why waste your time?”
“Why do I even bother to discuss these things with you?” Her eyes were full of reproach, and I could see that I had ruined her cheerful mood.
“Why do you?” I sneered.
“Never mind.” She tossed the book aside rather fiercely and rose from her seat, stalking over to the bookshelves on the other side of the chamber.
I watched the rigid set of her shoulders as she moved. I knew exactly why she read such things to me and then attempted to discuss them with me. She was searching for some good within me, attempting to give me the opportunity to prove myself redeemable. She was incurably naive in this respect.
“Would you rather I read to you about wars and pestilence?” she called, after a long moment of silence. She remained with her back to me, and she ran a rather listless finger over the leather-bound spines on the shelves.
“Why should I wish to hear about pestilence? I have already told you numerous times that the sufferings of others are meaningless to me. Perhaps if I were suffering from a pestilence myself, I might muster some curiosity on the subject, if only in the hopes that it would enable me to find a cure.”
“Of course. You care to hear of something only if it directly involves you.” The line of her slender shoulders grew even tauter, and I watched as one of her hands balled into a fist. I could see her body heave as she took a deep breath, and I knew she was attempting to quell her anger.
“Wars are another matter,” I said, wanting to stoke her anger before she could regain her faculties and answer my scathing remarks with smiles, as she had taken to doing as of late.
She turned to eye me warily. “Indeed?”
“Certainly.” I sat back in my chair. I felt a sense of satisfaction creep over me as I watched her face.
My next words were certain to provoke her. “There is appeal in hearing about those who have used might and brutal force to take what they will.”
There was a flicker of horror in her eyes, but her recovery surprised me. “Not everyone is as unscrupulous as you,” she said triumphantly, her smile returning. “I shall be glad to read you war tales. Shall I start with the tale of the ancient Eudorian king who went to war to free the slaves of Lynere, or would you prefer the history of the knights of Altheria who swore their lives to the noble service of stamping out injustice wherever they encountered it?”
Ah, but two can play at this game.
“Neither. I would prefer for you to read the history of Marcus the Black, who went to war for the sheer thrill of cutting down his enemy.”
I watched as Mira scanned the shelf and removed a book. She walked over to me and deliberately flung the tome into my lap. “Read it yourself then.” She spun on her heel and stormed out of the library with a furious rustle of silken skirts.
“Why do I even bother to discuss these things with you?” Her eyes were full of reproach, and I could see that I had ruined her cheerful mood.
“Why do you?” I sneered.
“Never mind.” She tossed the book aside rather fiercely and rose from her seat, stalking over to the bookshelves on the other side of the chamber.
I watched the rigid set of her shoulders as she moved. I knew exactly why she read such things to me and then attempted to discuss them with me. She was searching for some good within me, attempting to give me the opportunity to prove myself redeemable. She was incurably naive in this respect.
“Would you rather I read to you about wars and pestilence?” she called, after a long moment of silence. She remained with her back to me, and she ran a rather listless finger over the leather-bound spines on the shelves.
“Why should I wish to hear about pestilence? I have already told you numerous times that the sufferings of others are meaningless to me. Perhaps if I were suffering from a pestilence myself, I might muster some curiosity on the subject, if only in the hopes that it would enable me to find a cure.”
“Of course. You care to hear of something only if it directly involves you.” The line of her slender shoulders grew even tauter, and I watched as one of her hands balled into a fist. I could see her body heave as she took a deep breath, and I knew she was attempting to quell her anger.
“Wars are another matter,” I said, wanting to stoke her anger before she could regain her faculties and answer my scathing remarks with smiles, as she had taken to doing as of late.
She turned to eye me warily. “Indeed?”
“Certainly.” I sat back in my chair. I felt a sense of satisfaction creep over me as I watched her face.
My next words were certain to provoke her. “There is appeal in hearing about those who have used might and brutal force to take what they will.”
There was a flicker of horror in her eyes, but her recovery surprised me. “Not everyone is as unscrupulous as you,” she said triumphantly, her smile returning. “I shall be glad to read you war tales. Shall I start with the tale of the ancient Eudorian king who went to war to free the slaves of Lynere, or would you prefer the history of the knights of Altheria who swore their lives to the noble service of stamping out injustice wherever they encountered it?”
Ah, but two can play at this game.
“Neither. I would prefer for you to read the history of Marcus the Black, who went to war for the sheer thrill of cutting down his enemy.”
I watched as Mira scanned the shelf and removed a book. She walked over to me and deliberately flung the tome into my lap. “Read it yourself then.” She spun on her heel and stormed out of the library with a furious rustle of silken skirts.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Thumbs Up Thursdays: Angelfall by Susan Ee
Um, wow! Between hearing about Susan Ee's success and the buzz surrounding this book on Goodreads, I decided I had to read it. I can sum it up by saying this: Ee deserves every bit of praise she's getting.
Genre: Young adult postapocalyptic
What I love about the characters: Honestly, I could probably write a ten-page essay in which I fangirl on and on about how much I absolutely adored Penryn. Have I mentioned that I loved her? I read a lot of YA fiction, but it's rare that I find a female protagonist that I care for and root for as much as I did with Penryn. She is everything I hope to make my female protagonists: smart, tough, proactive, and yet she still has a tender, compassionate side. On top of all that, she has one of the most interesting family dynamics I've yet read about in a work of YA fiction. This is how a well-done female character should be.
I also really liked Raffe. Though he is godlike, gorgeous, as well as an awe-inspiring warrior (he is an angel, after all!), he never comes across unlikeable. When he's being an arrogant jerk, Penryn calls him on it, and I thought that was awesome. The two have great tension, and their relationship builds slowly and carefully. You really get the sense that these are two characters taking the time to get to know one another.
What I love about the setting: Ee has created a very real, very scary world. Seriously, I read the last few chapters of the book late one night and I was honestly afraid to go to bed because I was sure I was going to have nightmares. It is chilling to read such a dark, dire portrayal of the U.S. in the wake of Armageddon, and Ee really cranks up the horror factor. Her prose is extremely vivid, and I could perfectly picture every scene she depicted. I envy her prodigious imagination.
What I love about the plot: It flows so wonderfully. It's exciting and action-packed, and many chapters left me biting my nails, wondering what would happen to Penryn and Raffe. It's the kind of book that I was reluctant to put down because I just had to know what would happen next. Yet, Ee also does a fantastic job of rounding out her characters, so you get the total package.
What I'm jealous of: All of it, really. It's so well-written, so tense, so scary, and so heartbreaking. It also made me think. I don't want to spoil anything, but there is one central question in the novel that I'm *still* thinking about and trying to decide how I would handle. I cannot wait for the next book in the series so I can find out what happens.
Who I'd recommend it to: Anyone who likes strong female characters, postapocalyptic novels, and novels about angels.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Tidbit Tuesdays: The beginning of the end of life as they knew it
Creators is making its last appearance in the Tidbits Tuesday feature, because it is no longer the work in progress. Next week, I'll be offering up a taste of Contributor, the first novel in my postapocalyptic/dystopian trilogy. I hope you enjoy this opening scene from Creators!
They were losing the war, this much was obvious. Standing and surveying the fields, Zhang Liang swallowed against the lump in his throat. As far as the eye could see, the crops were dying. Liang crouched and grabbed a handful of earth, feeling his own impotence as it trickled through his fingers. It was so depleted it could no longer sustain life, as evidenced by the dessicated plant stalks waving forlornly in the hot breeze. No matter how much they tinkered with the soil, Zhang Agritech Systems was unable to successfully replace nutrients in the soil.
Wiping his hand on his thighs, Liang stumbled over to a vivid green patch. In a blind rage, he began yanking plants out, feeling a vicious sense of satisfaction as he tore their roots from the earth. Even so, he knew it was an empty gesture. No matter how valiantly the corn and soybeans fought, they were helpless against the onslaught of the virulent pigweed, horseweed, and countless other so-called superweeds.
A sudden pressure on his shoulder reminded Liang that he wasn’t alone, and he looked up into the sober gaze of Anya Ragulski, his second-in-command.
“The collectives are no longer viable,” she told him, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the drone of machinery trying desperately to provide enough water, enough of a precise chemical cocktail to support the crops needed to feed millions.
“But without the collectives…” Liang began, but the thought was too horrible to contemplate, and the words died in his throat.
“There will be widespread famine,” Anya finished, her voice so collected that Liang stared up at her, caught between horror and admiration that she could remain so calm. However, as he studied her face, he realized there were tears in her eyes, that her expression was rigid.
“Maybe we just need more hands. We could institute another selection process, bring more field workers into the collectives. There are more than enough candidates,” Liang suggested, the words falling out of his mouth faster and faster, as he tried to cling to this one last surge of hope.
Just this morning, throngs of people had stood outside the secure, electrified, razor-wire topped gates of the collective, their starved faces staring avidly at his armored motorcade as it glided by on nearly silent electric motors. Though life in the collectives involved a great deal of grueling, back-breaking labor, its workers went to bed with a full belly every night, something about which many people could only dream. The first ten years after the launch of the collectives had been rough because it had been so difficult to find people willing to spend hour after hour toiling in the blazing sun, but conditions on the outside had deteriorated to the point that there were now more people desperate to work the collectives than there were jobs.
“If we increase the number of hands, we won’t be able to provide them with food in exchange for work, let alone supply those who don’t work the collective,” Anya reminded him, her patient tone cracking around the edges. She’d told him this already, but the knowledge refused to enter his head. The more he tried to accept reality, the more his brain fought to reject it.
“Then why did you bring me here?” Liang was unable to keep the bitterness from his voice as he pulled himself up from the ground.
“Because I knew you had to see it.” Anya studied him with an unwavering gaze until he turned from her, yanking his protective goggles from his face and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. She was right; he wouldn’t have believed numbers on a report, would have rejected the graphs and projections.
After several moments during which Liang stared unseeingly at the hands toiling at their fruitless labors, Anya finally spoke. “We knew this day was coming. You know we’ve done all we can, Liang. Our scientists have been working around the clock—but I’m not telling you anything you don’t know. You’ve seen the data. You know how many of them have collapsed from exhaustion, how many have had cardiac episodes due to the stress.”
Unable to speak, he simply nodded in acknowledgment of her words. Yes, he’d seen the data, but how could anyone be expected to process the beginning of the end of life as they knew it?
They were losing the war, this much was obvious. Standing and surveying the fields, Zhang Liang swallowed against the lump in his throat. As far as the eye could see, the crops were dying. Liang crouched and grabbed a handful of earth, feeling his own impotence as it trickled through his fingers. It was so depleted it could no longer sustain life, as evidenced by the dessicated plant stalks waving forlornly in the hot breeze. No matter how much they tinkered with the soil, Zhang Agritech Systems was unable to successfully replace nutrients in the soil.
Wiping his hand on his thighs, Liang stumbled over to a vivid green patch. In a blind rage, he began yanking plants out, feeling a vicious sense of satisfaction as he tore their roots from the earth. Even so, he knew it was an empty gesture. No matter how valiantly the corn and soybeans fought, they were helpless against the onslaught of the virulent pigweed, horseweed, and countless other so-called superweeds.
A sudden pressure on his shoulder reminded Liang that he wasn’t alone, and he looked up into the sober gaze of Anya Ragulski, his second-in-command.
“The collectives are no longer viable,” she told him, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the drone of machinery trying desperately to provide enough water, enough of a precise chemical cocktail to support the crops needed to feed millions.
“But without the collectives…” Liang began, but the thought was too horrible to contemplate, and the words died in his throat.
“There will be widespread famine,” Anya finished, her voice so collected that Liang stared up at her, caught between horror and admiration that she could remain so calm. However, as he studied her face, he realized there were tears in her eyes, that her expression was rigid.
“Maybe we just need more hands. We could institute another selection process, bring more field workers into the collectives. There are more than enough candidates,” Liang suggested, the words falling out of his mouth faster and faster, as he tried to cling to this one last surge of hope.
Just this morning, throngs of people had stood outside the secure, electrified, razor-wire topped gates of the collective, their starved faces staring avidly at his armored motorcade as it glided by on nearly silent electric motors. Though life in the collectives involved a great deal of grueling, back-breaking labor, its workers went to bed with a full belly every night, something about which many people could only dream. The first ten years after the launch of the collectives had been rough because it had been so difficult to find people willing to spend hour after hour toiling in the blazing sun, but conditions on the outside had deteriorated to the point that there were now more people desperate to work the collectives than there were jobs.
“If we increase the number of hands, we won’t be able to provide them with food in exchange for work, let alone supply those who don’t work the collective,” Anya reminded him, her patient tone cracking around the edges. She’d told him this already, but the knowledge refused to enter his head. The more he tried to accept reality, the more his brain fought to reject it.
“Then why did you bring me here?” Liang was unable to keep the bitterness from his voice as he pulled himself up from the ground.
“Because I knew you had to see it.” Anya studied him with an unwavering gaze until he turned from her, yanking his protective goggles from his face and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. She was right; he wouldn’t have believed numbers on a report, would have rejected the graphs and projections.
After several moments during which Liang stared unseeingly at the hands toiling at their fruitless labors, Anya finally spoke. “We knew this day was coming. You know we’ve done all we can, Liang. Our scientists have been working around the clock—but I’m not telling you anything you don’t know. You’ve seen the data. You know how many of them have collapsed from exhaustion, how many have had cardiac episodes due to the stress.”
Unable to speak, he simply nodded in acknowledgment of her words. Yes, he’d seen the data, but how could anyone be expected to process the beginning of the end of life as they knew it?
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