About to return to the Usual Undisclosed Location, which has less Internet than it once did. Gonna try to take advantage of this rather than simply decry the lack.

On a semi-related note, I read another one of those “You Can Get So Much Done If You Don’t Get Online After Five P.M., Srsly” articles today. They always fill me with a mixture of hope and dread. I am aware, certainly, that deadlines concentrate the mind wonderfully. And I can see how Making Tough Decisions About How You Spend Your Time, To Increase Your Productivity, can be a Good Thing. (I have even written about it previously.)

But MAN, anything that is, like, a System just grates on me.

Even if I have set it up myself.

For instance: I schedule time to write using the alarm on my cell phone. Sometimes I am already writing when it goes off. Sometimes the alarm interrupts a conversation with a friend, or laundry, or looking at the Internet. Arguably, if it is laundry or Internet I should obey, and sometimes I do.

But sometimes I don’t.

What strategies do y’all use, if any, to psych yourself out to get more done?

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

I think many of y’all follow BoingBoing and so will have already seen it, but I just have to embed this fantastic video, “Spacious Thoughts”:

“Good can’t help but do a little Evil
Evil can’t help but do a little Good.”

And I know what Tom Waits looks like, but despite that, I’m gonna find it hard not to visualize the form Fluorescent Hill gave him the next time I listen to one of his albums.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

I’ve gotten more than one message from readers who have noticed that Nicola Lancaster, the protagonist of my first book, Empress of the World, doesn’t appear directly in my second, The Rules for Hearts, which is told from the point of view of Battle Hall Davies, the girl Nic falls for in Empress. They ask why, as one recent note put it, I “chose to split them up.”

This might sound strange, I wrote to that reader, but I don’t think of it as being me who ’split them up’ — it’s just what happened.

Now what exactly did I mean by that? I wondered after I hit “Send.”

I am emphatically not writing thinly disguised autobiography, therefore I’m not working under a journalistic imperative to report “just the facts, ma’am.” And neither do I think, exactly, that my characters just came to life and started doing these crazy things! I can’t control ‘em!

But I want to write in a way that feels emotionally true. I think very hard about who my characters are, how they are with each other, the pressures and constraints they’re under, and where they are in their lives. A relationship between two people who:

– have been together for a very short time, in a setting far removed from their “regular” lives
– are taking a lot of demanding classes in their respective senior years of high school
– live hundreds of miles away from each other

…is going to be a huge challenge to maintain, no matter how fierce and intense their love for each other. If you add the fact that one member of the couple is highly analytical and likes to talk everything out at length, and the other prefers to express herself through actions and physicality, the challenge becomes even greater.

Believe me, I have been upset (read: cried buckets) about what happens to characters in the books I love (not to mention television shows; hello, The Wire!). But at the same time, if the author has done the job right, there’s a simultaneous sense of inevitability: Damn. That is what would have happened.

I’m not going to claim I’ve achieved that sense of inevitability in Rules; it’s not for me to assess. But it’s what I always strive for.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

I have pretty much said it all in the subject line of the post. If you’re in or around Lake Oswego on Tuesday evening, please come!

Oh, here’s what I’m going to be doing; I suppose that would be useful to include:
“Join Sara as she reads from her work, leads the group through a few short writing exercises, and answers questions about writing and publishing.” It’s part of the library’s Third Tuesday Author Series.

In other news, Rich Johnston is the first person to publicly make the connection between my new project and my story for Significant Objects. Good catch!

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

When I was growing up, Halloween was the launch of all our family holidays. Two weeks after Halloween — my birthday. Five days later, my mom’s. Ten days after hers, my dad’s. Thanksgiving in there somewhere real close to Dad’s. Then Christmas. There was a sustained level of festivity, a baseline of excitement throughout the months of November and December, a fine counterbalance to the seasonal darkness.

Now, it’s impossible for me to contemplate the launch of “birthday season” without running aground at November 28th. It doesn’t mean I won’t have a happy birthday. It doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate the well-wishes of friends. It’s simply part of my reality, here in 2009.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve also become less and less inclined to have birthday parties. It’s not because I’m Sensitive About My Age (which is now 38, in case you were curious), but rather because I find parties a source of as much anxiety as pleasure. Increasingly, I prefer to set the holiday tone in a lower key. If I don’t set myself up to have the Best Day Ever OMG, I’m more likely to enjoy the day I have.

But maybe what I perceive today as a significant shift away from the festivity-intensive end of the continuum would be more properly considered a swing of a pendulum that will one day swing back, and at 60 (or even 40) I’ll find myself avid for big celebrations. I wonder how much of what feels to me like a personal preference to not make a big deal out of my birthday* is actually more about the fact that I’m not turning a particularly significant age as far as this culture is concerned. Readers, where do you stand on birthday parties? And if you don’t mind saying, tell me how old you are when you answer.

*(Of course, one could argue that I’m deluding myself because blogging about one’s birthday is inherently making a big deal out of it, but any of y’all who are my Social Network Friends will have already been notified, anyway.)

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

I am beyond thrilled to announce officially that the forthcoming graphic novel I’ve been alluding to and dropping hints about for months is in fact forthcoming from DC Vertigo. It’s called BAD HOUSES. The fabulous Joan Hilty is editing, and my artist is the stupefyingly talented Carla Speed McNeil. (Check it out: all-lady creative team!)

(See, PW says.)

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

I have recently purchased at my local independent book and comic shops:

Likewise by Ariel Schrag. I don’t know how I missed that this came out earlier this year. I’ve been following Ariel’s comics since the single-issue days of Definition. Obsessive! Funny! Brutal!

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead. Delighted to jump onto this bandwagon, and I agree with the majority: the less you know going in, the better.

Tamara Drewe by Posy Simmons. It’s set at a writer’s retreat, so if you know her “Literary Life” comics, you’re already sold.

Black Water Rising by Attica Locke. Conflicted lawyer and ex-Black Power activist Jay Porter is an extremely compelling protagonist, and this book is the latest addition to my “If you like The Wire” booklist. And I know 1980s Houston and late 2000s New Orleans are not the same place, but I’m still hoping she’ll end up writing for David Simon’s new series, Treme.

What have you acquired lately?

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

I’m working on the graphic novel all day today, and listening to John Coltrane and Miles Davis.

While staring into space (because that is, of course, an important component of working) I suddenly noticed the pleasing industrial geometry above. If you look closely, you can see the reflection of Steve’s drawing table.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

Another repost of my answer to one of Colleen Mondor’s excellent What A Girl Wants questions.

Here’s Colleen’s question:

Do you think historic MG & YA fiction addresses socioeconomic status more effectively than contemporary titles? Why or why not? Is it just easier for us to think of the Marches in Little Women struggling in the face of war than the middle class family down the street? How important do you think it is for readers to identify with protagonists of their own socioeconomic background? We’ve talked a lot about race in this forum, but not class. Do you need to read about people with the same financial struggles you have or in times of trouble is it better just to live vicariously? Are realistic titles of this type just too much of a downer? (And yet the industry seems to thrive on suicide/mental illness/teen pregnancy titles – go figure.) How important to the story is it anyway to know what the parents do for a living or that “Sally” can’t afford a new dress or cell phone? If the book is about fitting in or teen love or friendship, does it help or hinder to drop those details into the plot? And finally, what families should we think more about presenting in literature – that of the Conners on Roseanne or the folks at 90210, the Hills, the Gossip Girls, etc.. Is socioeconomic fantasy just a new kind of fantasy – as out of this world as vamps and wizards and just as much fun? Are we in literary denial or just willfully trying to conjure a more carefree world?

Here’s what I said:

When I think about how class is and is not featured in YA, I think a lot about the Unmarked State.

Nisi Shawl, co-author of Writing the Other, defines the unmarked state this way: “Possessing characteristics which are seen as “normal,” and thus not worth being mentioned.  In this society, at this time, this includes being white, male, heterosexual, cisgendered, affluent, and with certain physical abilities.  Just about everyone deviates from the unmarked state in one way or another, though some ways are deemed important and others are not.”

When we don’t, as writers, think hard about the socioeconomic status of our characters and how it affects their lives, we may as well be setting our books in the Unmarked State.

I was out earlier this evening with some women I was meeting socially for the first time. Some questions that came up over the course of the conversation: “Where do you live?” “Do you own or rent?” “How many square feet?” “Where do you work?” “Are you union?”  These are all questions about class.

A character’s ability or inability to buy a new phone or dress can be a crucial detail. I once read about a couple who fell in love across deep class divisions. She was extremely wealthy. He was working-class. She had a birthday coming up. Her family was going to throw her an extravagant party. He didn’t think he’d be able to come, because of his work schedule. You see where this is going, right? As it turned out, he was at her party — working, as a member of the catering staff.

You could tell a fantastic story from the point of view of either one of them. It comes down, as it always does, to representing the particular and specific in such a way that it resonates universally.

Read all the responses and comments over at Chasing Ray, and read the latest post on mean girls.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

Our first meal in Paris. You see the café au lait, the croque monsieur have not yet arrived.

There are many more France pictures, and I will no doubt post more as I get them organized, but I thought I would also put up a few lists that I made as advice to myself for future trips:

Things I Didn’t Bring That I Should’ve

• A watch. Knowing that my phone wouldn’t work in France, I left it behind, but neglected to take into consideration the fact that my communication device is also my habitual timepiece.
• T-shirts. I read a book that was very cautionary about the high level of formality in French fashion, and so I packed a more businessy selection of clothing than I would have otherwise. I did not think about the fact that we were going to a comic convention. I doubt there is anywhere in the world where comic conventions require formal dress (unless you are a serious cosplayer) and really, my opinion now is that when traveling, unless you know that by doing so you’ll violate cultural taboos and/or local laws, you should dress more or less in your usual style. Everyone knows you’re a tourist; don’t try to blend in.
• A book. I know, can you believe it? I did have audiobooks, but it would’ve been nice to have something on paper. (On the plus side, my lack of other reading material led me to the discovery that French shelter magazines have it all over their American counterparts. Maison Française! Marie Claire Maison! Much more interesting photography, and I can get the gist of the articles.)

Things I Brought That I Shouldn’t Have

• Phrasebooks and travel guides. I just didn’t use them. I resorted to a lot of Je suis désolée.
• Jewelry. Too much trouble to carry.
• Hair gel. Several ounces of weight, and I only used it once.
• Two suits. One would have been fine, or none.
• Voltage converters. So heavy! So unnecessary! We were fine just using adapters for European plugs.
• Multiple notebooks. My standard operating procedure is to carry both my journal and a writing-ideas notebook, but the writing-ideas notebook is heavy. If I really wanted to stick to the multiple notebook scheme, I should’ve gotten a second small Moleskine.
• Vaguely formal shoes. They were my most comfortable heels, but a trip that’s mostly about walking and taking public transportation while schlepping suitcases is not the trip for heels.

Things I Brought That Were Totally Perfect

• An HP Mini. About half the size of my laptop, and much cheaper to replace if it had gotten stolen, which it thankfully did not. Fine for getting online, good size keyboard, all-around useful piece of technology. Cute, even.
• My oldest, most broken-in pair of Fluevogs. (The late, lamented “Sara” style — seriously — I wish they would make it again!)
• A wallet big enough to zip my passport into.
• A waterproof coat.
• An iPod with lots of Mountain Goats on it.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

…and then my voice went hoarse and my head went strange, and I thought about all the coughing people to whom I was in close proximity during the recent travels. And then I coughed. A lot.

So instead: a picture, then Nyquil.

More beach glass than I’ve ever found before. Are people in St. Malo less obsessive about picking it up than the beachcombers of the American west coast? Is there simply a greater quantity to be found?

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

No time for a long post yet, but:

Here I am on the street near our hotel in Paris.

View from our hotel room.

Detail from one of the pillars at the Musee Cluny.

Sundial designed by Salvador Dali.

Stickers Soup.

We saw several of these seriously tagged white vans.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

These next few days aren’t the calm before the storm so much as the calm between the storms. (Storms of amazing opportunities, I hasten to add.)

This past weekend was the first time that I’ve had a being-an-author gig so close to a hosting-an-author gig, and the experience was exhausting but excellent. Thanks again to the Washington Library Media Association, specifically Elaine Harger, for inviting me to speak, and thanks to Mr. M.T. Anderson for being a delightful guest.

A few things about my two days in Yakima:

• Got a nice high-school era flashback crossing the street, when a carful of dudes yelled out: “HEY! WHAT’S UP WITH YOUR HAIR?”
• Found out that a long-dormant project may yet come back to life, hopefully not zombie-fashion.
• Marveled at the predominance of Spanish speakers in the airport, and eavesdropped to the best of my ability. Pretty sure I heard “No hay trabajo.”
• Learned about the existence of the Rainbow Girls, which are apparently sort of the Masonic equivalent of Girl Scouts.
• Was asked why I write about gay characters. I might have surprised the questioner when I responded matter-of-factly that I’m bisexual. I elaborated: of course I don’t think you have to self-identify as queer to write about queer characters, but I do think there’s an added incentive to write about a community when you’re in some way part of it.

And a tiny anecdote re: hosting M.T.A.:

• Had the bright idea to get the car seriously cleaned before picking him up at the airport. I am, to put it mildly, not assiduous about keeping a clean car interior, and between the bike grease and that one time the peanut sauce spilled, the cleaning was long overdue. Unfortunately I neglected to take into consideration the fact that when you get car seats shampooed, they stay damp for a long time. Days, even. So I greeted the illustrious Mr. Anderson with the reassurance that the car was not actually a crime scene, despite the sheets of plastic.

Tell me stories about being a guest, and/or a host?

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

‘Nother repost of my response to one of Colleen’s excellent questions over at Chasing Ray.  Here’s the question(s):

What is the vamp romance appeal and is it any different from the Harlequin romances and Forever of the 70s? It is one thing after all to lust after a guy from afar but know he is bad news, it’s a whole other deal to spend your time willingly with someone who might accidentally kill you in the heat of passion. Are today’s vamp lovers more passive then they should be? Are these books showing girls a take charge guy that can’t be denied and preventing them from real world boys who might be worth their time? Is there a dirty secret about passivity hiding in the Twilight series?

I’ll confess to so far not having consumed many of the vampire-centric YA novels of the present moment. And to many of my friends’ ongoing dismay, I have also not watched Buffy. So clearly, I’m operating at a distinct literary and pop cultural disadvantage when attempting to think about the appeal of vampires in YA.

I can, though, observe from reviews and commentary that very few current vampire books seem to be purely vampire books. Instead they’re mashups with other YA subgenres: vampire plus school story, vampire plus girl-who-doesn’t-fit-in. One way to think about vampires in YA is simply as a strategy for “adding interest” to a narrative — like a fabulous cloak thrown over your story to tie it all together and keep it looking fresh.

And certainly their now-traditional sexual allure is an important aspect of vampiric popularity. The metaphors are so obvious they hardly seem worth noting: penetration is followed by transformation. After the bite, nothing will ever be the same again. But of course, in real life, that transformation is elusive. A girl who’d never finished a book until she read Twilight told me she wanted a boyfriend like Edward. Then she hastily added: “I mean, I have a boyfriend, but…”

I’ll confess again — the recent vampire narrative I’ve found most compelling was a movie, not a book. (It was based on a book, but I haven’t read the book yet.) The movie: Let The Right One In. In a bleak Swedish winter in the early eighties, a lonely young teen meets another teen, dark and mysterious, who doesn’t seem cold in the bitter night. Does it sound familiar? It’s less so than you might think; the lonely teen is a boy, Oskar, viciously bullied, and the mysterious other teen is a vampire. The vampire, Eli, solves Oskar’s Rubiks cube with dizzying speed, and he wonders if Eli can solve his other problems as well. What I admire most about the film is its unblinking focus on the brutal consequences that life with a vampire would actually entail: murder and secrets, power and the cost of its use.

Read other folks’ responses to the vamps questions, and/or Read the latest post about superheroines.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

I bet you thought I’d stopped recording them, didn’t you?

You can find the latest episode in the iTunes Store (gloriously free) by searching for Sara Ryan in the podcast category, or you can go to this unlovely but useful page wherein you can subscribe to the podcast and/or download individual episodes. I’ve read all of Empress and am making my way, slowly but surely, through Rules as well. (I’m slightly flummoxed by the latest version of GarageBand, though; I used to understand how to compress the files, but this one has remained fairly ginormous. Would welcome advice from GarageBand aficionados.)

Or you can simply download The Rules for Hearts, Act II, scene iv, from this very page.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

Did you notice that it is already October?

(Not actually a gravestone. Part of a fountain.)

It is an exciting month, is October, so this post will have a lot of exclamation points. It’s a good thing I am fond of Portland International Airport (PDX), as I will be there more often than usual.

As I have previously mentioned, I’ll be speaking at the Washington Library Media Association conference in Yakima on Friday, October 9th. Still taking advice about what to include in my presentation!

Shortly thereafter I will come back to PDX to retrieve the esteemed M.T. Anderson, who’ll be speaking Monday, October 12th — get your tickets now!

And then a few days later, I’ll be returning to PDX yet again, this time to spend a very long time in the air in order to get to France, where Steve and I will be attending the Quai des Bulles convention! This is super cool, but also nervous-making, as I have never been to France and speak no French. But since the trip is really about Steve’s work, not mine, I plan to spend most of my time pretending it is the twenties and I am an expat: aka sitting in cafes and writing.

I know some of you have been to France — advice about how not to be an annoying American, other than very quickly learning French? Recommendations of where to get international adapters for electronics? French artists whose work I shouldn’t miss at the show?

And, tell me about your Octobers!

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

I took a different route home today. Here are some of the things I saw:

• Five unblinking cats, camouflaged by the brown-and-black facade of the house they appeared to be guarding
• A man rinsing out a toilet for repurposing as a planter
• A miniature Stonehenge in an otherwise unremarkable yard
• An angry note addressed to Portland Power, inscribed on a phone pole from “the honey suckers who used to live here”
• Two people drinking on their roof
• Two other people smoking on their porch
• An older home repurposed as an emergency clinic
• Gang tags, executed by scratching them into the moss growing on a retaining wall

What do you see on your way home?

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

So earlier this summer, my bike was stolen. I didn’t tell you then, Internet friends, because I had just told you about another incident of burglarization and I thought that detailing two in a row would verge on whiny.

I’d had the bike for about fifteen years, a Bridgestone X03 I bought when I was still living in Ann Arbor. My then-housemate K, a serious cyclist, helped me pick it out. I knew nothing about bike styles. (I still don’t, mostly.) I put my trust in her entirely, and said trust was not misplaced.

As many years as I owned that bike, it was only in the last couple, here in Portland, that I was riding regularly. There was maintenance to be done, and fear of street riding to overcome. I was just getting to be a confident bike commuter when the thief pedaled the Bridgestone out of my life.

For a while, I felt like I wasn’t meant to have another bike. After all, wouldn’t it be likely to get boosted, too? Could I really justify the expense? (I wondered this especially after I started researching prices.)

But I missed the wind-in-my-face feeling-of-getting-away-with-something, and before long I found myself at Cascade Cycling, test-riding a variety of bikes.

No doubt I did this back in the day when K helped me pick out the Bridgestone, but all memories of the process had vanished. And as ridiculous as this sounds, it was really — I was searching for another word but I think this is actually the right one — empowering to make decisions for myself: I want to sit up straight, not hunch forward over the handlebars. I really don’t need a lot of speeds. I like these chunky tires.

As much as I liked the Bridgestone, my new bike is significantly more sturdy and comfortable. And I would never have discovered it, had it not been for the unfortunate incident.

I’m not saying Gosh, I wish someone would boost more of my stuff so I could get new cooler stuff! The experience just made me realize how infrequently I assess things other than clothing with an eye to how well they’ll fit.

Perhaps I should do it more often.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

I’ve fallen a little behind in reposting my responses in Chasing Ray’s What A Girl Wants series, but maybe the delay will help spur more conversation! Here’s Colleen’s fifth question:

“How about the real girls? We all know that teen nonfiction is not a popular genre for publishers. The assumption seems to be that teens can jump right into adult NF for information they might need for reports, etc. To me though the adult titles are often densely written and more importantly do not address subjects teens would be interested in – or don’t present them in a manner that would be more appealing to teens (more pictures, etc.) What subjects do you think should be addressed in YA NF that teen girls would want to read about and just as important – should read about? Who are the real girls and real issues we are missing and how would learning about them help the girls of today?”

This is another question I can’t answer without thinking about my own reading choices as a teen. Here are three nonfiction titles I remember:

1. Our Bodies, Ourselves. It was put into my hands by an older friend who’d intuited that I would soon benefit from some of the information inside. I would never have taken it off a library shelf, but in the safety of her apartment, it was okay to read.

2. Color Me Beautiful. I wish I didn’t have such vivid recollections of this title, but I was fascinated by the premise that if you just knew what season you were, everything else in your life would fall into place.

3. Medieval People, by Eileen Edna Power. I was also fascinated by the Middle Ages, and I appreciated that the book was actually about people from the past, as opposed to Important Historical Events.

None of these titles were written for a teen audience, but they were all about subjects in which I had a compelling interest. If I were a teen today, I’d be looking online for equivalents of the first two, since despite my fascination, I found health information and fashion equally embarrassing to contemplate.

The problem I have when I try to think about teen-girl-specific nonfiction is that so many of the subjects that come to mind are exactly the kind of things I wouldn’t have wanted to admit I was interested in. And if the topic was innocuous, as with Medieval People, I’d have found a “For Teens!” treatment condescending.

So maybe teen-girl-specific nonfiction is more for parents, librarians, teachers, and the rare but vital Other Trusted Adults to buy, and simply leave somewhere the girls might stumble across it.

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.

Actually it is just my typical bad cell phone camera shot. But it has that quality, don’t you think?

Originally published at sararyan.com. You can comment here or there.