ŷ������

Forgive the late posting. This was not the blog post I originally planned today. I wrote a whole 'nother one, then, as they say in , the best laid plans got in the way.

Okay, maybe they said that somewhere else first before my debut YA. :)

Anyway, not the post I was planning, but we did the official cover reveal yesterday unexpectedly, so I'm bumping everything to share that here. Now.

Isn't it pretty?!?!

If you want to read the official (and why Kelly Hager of KellyVision was the perfect host), you may do so ��. . . and to read more about the book or preorder (those are good for writers!!!), you may do so here:��, (although the BEST place to preorder is via your local indie and/or brick and mortar.

Or, heck, preorder through one of my favorite indies -- and endeavors -- �������������հ��鷡
Anyway, I'm excited about this book I started nearly a decade ago (!!!) and hope you all love it when it arrives on shelves everywhere in April 2020.

Now, without further ado, FRIDAY FEEDBACK. If you haven't been here before, please take a moment to read .

My share is a moment in my continuing WIP ("Work in Progress") which right now appears to be adult literary fiction. It is completely unedited or reread. A true first "" Last week we met Paul at "Twenty Three Years Later." For the moment, this is the first time we meet June.




Twenty years later.June

June Sobel sits at the living room window, across from the piano, and stares out at the patchy lawn. She’s not thinking about the small lump her OBGYN found in her breast yesterday morning, or about the biopsy she has to go in for next week. She’s thinking about Gabriel and the time he explained chord progressions to her, a moment that comes back to her lately, again and again.“Since there are only so many chord progressions to choose from,�� he’d told her, “you can’t protect them, or accuse other people of stealing them.”��He’d been sitting at the piano, then, absentmindedly fiddling with the last two high-pitched keys, to the point where she’d lost her patience, annoyed at the repetition. It was a Saturday morning and she was enjoying her tea, and it infuriated her the way he’d do that, play nothing at all, or worse, something aggravating just to get on her nerves. After all those lessons, he was more than capable of playing something beautiful.


----
See you in the comments!

- gae

One of the perks of sticking with it?
getting to meet and hang with some of your own personal heroes!
Here, with the truly awesome human, Chris Crutcher.

"I've always wanted to write a book."

You've been saying this for years.

Or, better yet, you started a book years ago, but never found the wherewithal to finish.

So, what exactly are you waiting for??

Oh right:

�� �� �� �� �� �� �� The right moment.

�� �� �� �� �� �� �� Enough time.

�� �� �� �� �� �� �� Proof you can really get it done.

Proof it won't suck.

Proof you don't suck.

Proof you won't have wasted all that time.



Yeah, forgive me for laughing, but . . . good luck with that.

Because no matter how long you wait (AND if you're me -- and most the writers I know -- it won't matter how long you actually are published for,) you are never going to have ANY of those occur.

Not time.

Not proof.

Not really.

At least not without YOU drilling opposite messages into your head. Here they are:

The time is now.

THIS is the right moment.

There will NEVER be more time than there is now.

There will NEVER BE enough time.

Ever.

And, there is absolutely no proof you can get it done. Like, zero. Well, except for the empirical fact that you have hands that type, presumably a laptop (or writers notebook, or very long scroll of toilet paper), a brain that works (most days), and a pen. Therefore nothing but YOU is stopping you.

You're welcome.

But seriously. Very few of us have the luxury to just start out as writers (or ever do nothing other than write to support ourselves). The first complete manuscript I ever wrote took me five years. When I started it, I had a colicky, impossible toddler, a baby in my tummy, and worked from home as a lawyer writing per diem motion papers and representing a few of my own clients on the side.

By the time I finished the manuscript, I had a six year old, a four year old, and was working three-quarters time running my own law practice. Oh, and p.s. that book never sold. Never saw the light of day. Nor did the one I wrote after it.

ALL my writing during those years took place from 10 pm - 3 am, and, yeah, some mornings I was very very tired.

Here's something else, with a fifth and sixth book coming out in 2020 from major publishers, I STILL don't know if I can do it again. I still don't know if I'm wasting my time. If I have anything to say that's worthy of all the effort and revision and rejection. So that most days, surfing the internet and ordering clothes from Free People is way easier than butt-in-chair to see what -- if anything -- comes out of me.

And, then, somehow, I do it. I write that page.
That sentence.
That scene.

The one that makes my heart race, that comes up out of me from who knows where (though, once in a while, I have an idea...)?

The one that sends me chasing after the next sentence, after the characters, and, eventually, the whole of their story waiting to unfold.

And I let them march forward (knowing I can change it all later if I want to), let the characters take up enough words, enough moments in my head, that they start to occupy this space that's less thought and more magic. And just a tiny bit of promise. I allow them the space to come alive and remind me that THEY have something to say.



I have NO idea if this is the right place to start, but it's
A place to start, which is better than not ever starting at all.��

I focus not on the book/story at first, but the small moments, the characters, and hope they will be enough to bring me back a second day and sustain me.

So, for now, STOP worrying about the big picture, and march forward with the small.

STOP asking if you have the time, and make (take) it.

START somewhere.

And once you do, don't turn back. Not now. Later you'll know whether that was the right ultimate starting spot, but right now, if you are typing, it is.

And STOP asking if your words will be good enough, and just write them.

You can change them later. I promise. And you will.

But there is nothing to make pretty if you never write it at all.

Having said that, welcome to Friday Feedback! And, hey, guess what? I'm in your shoes. Working on something new and I'm not quite sure what it is. The working title is EDGES and you've seen a few glimpses above. In a minute, I'm going to share an excerpt with you from the opening for your feedback (because that's how this works). Then, you do the same in the comments.

If you are a first time participant, before you get started, please read -- and abide by -- the rules!!!

But first, in case you've gotten here, and you still don't know how it works:

How it works.��Easy peasy:
Every week, I -- or one of my awesome guest authors -- will share a tiny bit of writing wisdom followed by an excerpt of our own ROUGH, UNPUBLISHED writing for your feedback. In return, we offer you the same opportunity: to share a brief excerpt in the comments for feedback from us -- AND from other campers!).��
See? Simple.

Now, HERE ARE THE RULES:��
1.��The Feedback should�� always ��be given in this order:
WHAT WORKS (and why)?;WHAT MIGHT NOT BE WORKING if anything (and why)?; andARE YOU COMPELLED TO KEEP READING?
Please note the order of those. Here at Friday Feedback, our first goal is to be encouraging. We highlight the gems in one��another's writing before we offer up constructive criticism. If you launch in with constructive criticism, I will hunt you down and fine you. Okay, well, I will hunt you down and scold you. :)��
2. The excerpts should not exceed three (3) paragraphs, if long, five (5) paragraphs if mostly dialogue or otherwise short. This rule holds even if I, or my guest authors, post a longer excerpt. If you put up more than the requested length, we do not promise to read beyond the stated limits. And PLEASE DON'T MAKE US CLICK ON A LINK TO READ YOUR EXCERPT ELSEWHERE!!! If you're having trouble posting, feel free to email me at [email protected]

You may post excerpts through Saturday and I will check in, but I do not require my guest authors to read past close of business Friday.��
3.��We ask you to remember that this is just for illustrative and enjoyment purposes. There is only so much we can realistically glean from a brief excerpt out of context.��Friday Feedback is intended to be instructional and inspiring, but please know our feedback��out of context of a full work��must always be taken as merely that. Your job here is to take in the information as you will. Keep what you like. Toss what you don't. In the end,��you are the boss of your own writing.
4. You may be the recipient of one of my patented "Superspeed Flash Edits."
Okay, fine, they're not patented, whatever. Sometimes, if your excerpt lends itself to me doing one of these, I will do so: namely, zip through your piece editing for passive voice (where not intended) unneeded words, wrong punctuation, repetition, etc.
I will NOT edit your own unique voice or substantive writing. This is an exercise intended to demonstrate how revision/clean up/intentional writing can truly make our voices pop and shine. And this is almost always SECOND DRAFT STUFF -- the stuff of REVISION -- when you are sharing first draft stuff, and so, again, is merely intended to make you aware of potential tics and such that take away from your own beautiful work, so you can get on that stuff DOWN THE ROAD.
If you do NOT want to be the recipient of a Superspeed Flash Edit for any reason, please message me at [email protected] and I'll remember not to edit you, or even say so right in the comments. :)��
5. To elaborate on one of the points above. . . I know many of you work summers and may not find time to post your excerpt until late Friday evening. I do not ask any of my guest authors to return Saturday, but some of them are willing. I will often return Saturday morning to give stragglers feedback. Please don't post beyond that. Please note that Friday Feedback takes a lot of work if the comments are busy, and my, and my guest authors', time is offered to you for free as a source of inspiration and encouragement. If you participate here, please order my newest title,��, or any of my other titles if they appeal more to you, and when possible, please order the newest title of my guest authors. If you are unable to purchase copies, it is almost as good to reach out to your local library and ask them to order it in if they don't have it already!��

And, now, without further ado (because that was already a LOT of ado), here's the current very opening of EDGES. Believe you me, I'm nearly as nervous as you are to share, especially since it's not my usual comfort zone of YA. But, too bad for me. So, here it goes:



Twenty-three Years Later.Paul
Paul Sobel stares at the ceiling thinking about some damned bird, as he has been doing for -- well, how many hours has it been now? He lifts his wrist out of habit to check, but of course he stopped wearing a watch ages ago. God forbid he didn’t give in and learn to use that damned cell phone for everything, like everyone else does. Time. Internet. Weather. Texting, for God’s sake. Texting. All forms of human contact. A damned slave to some metal and glass box filled with pixels, helpless to function when you suddenly find you don’t have one on you.Well, honestly, then, he has no idea what time it is. It could be 8 pm. It could be midnight. Hell, it could be 2 am.His stomach growls, and he wonders vaguely, again, how many messages are piled up on his cell phone where he left it on the kitchen counter when he headed down.Down to the freezer to get some ice cream.If June were here, none of this would have happened.But the bird? The bird? What was that thing called again? Maybe it’s the loss of blood affecting his memory, or the pain in his low back and right shoulder, now replaced with a tingling nothingness. Or maybe it’s simply hunger and lack of movement. He’s barely eaten since yesterday. A Casserole! No, no, of course not. That’s not it. That’s food. This was a huge emu or ostrich type thing that looked even more vicious and prehistoric. A Cassoulet. Hah, no! Food, again. Some sort of pork and bean dish?He laughs out loud at this, so hard he begins to cry. Stupid old pansy-ass is flat out crying, his whole upper body wracked with sobs.
---------xox gae (see you in the comments!!)

Join the Friday Feedback facebook page. . .
or follow me at my YA blog @��for weekly posts
starting June 21!It's been a while since I posted here . . . It's been a busy several months including bookwise, with two books in production for early 2020, an upper YA called which many of you have been hearing about for a while now, and my debut middle grade, SEVEN CLUES TO HOME, co-written with friend and huge talent Nora Raleigh Baskin (I'm so excited!!!!!) but I wanted to share here that, although it will no longer be a part of Teachers Write, I do plan to continue to host FRIDAY FEEDBACK here this summer, as I did before TW even ever started.

What is Friday Feedback? It's a place to get some inspiration, a bit of feedback, and possibly, if I'm in the mood and you're willing, a "superspeed flash edit" that might be illustrative of how some tiny craft tweaks can often make our writing pop and shine even more. Sometimes there are awesome guest author hosts... everyone from to have hosted!


If you want to get an idea of how it works, then scroll through the comments, because the comments are pretty much where all the action happens. Participation is free, though I do ask that if you are regularly participating, you purchase at least one of my books, and the books of at least a few of my guest authors.

Me, slightly filtered, last month
on my 54th birthday

Dearest Teachers Write campers,

< - - -�� This is me. Here I am. The two -- or more -- of us together once again.

As I noted on my Friday Feedback facebook page, this will be the last Friday Feedback that is part of the #TeachersWrite program.

This was not my decision. In fact, I'm a rather loyal sort, and have loved every minute of Teachers Write, and so this particular ending has left me a tad bit heartbroken.

In my original draft of this post, I shared my version of what happened, but on second thought decided real life is the only proper place for these conversations.

Suffice it to say, that Friday Feedback existed before Teachers Write, and if I choose -- and you all beg accordingly ;) -- I could always continue it.

Meanwhile, I move forward with deep gratitude for the last six summers with Teachers Write. Being part of this endeavor that grew and grew, and meeting all of you, many IRL through the years, has been one of the greatest highlights of my published life.

And, now -- hooray!! -- on with FRIDAY FEEDBACK. If you haven't participated before, please make sure you read .

So, since today is sort of an ending, I thought, "Hmmm, what if I went back to the beginning. . ." So I went to the archives of my blog searching for my first����from 2010 (!!!)


What I wrote back then about why I decided to start such a feature on my blog, still holds true for me today:

"Why am I so excited about this? ��Writers often write in a vacuum. As such, you’ll often hear us commenting that we have no idea if something we’ve written is great, or if it’s crap. I mean, you’d think we’d know, but sometimes, honestly, we just don’t. Sometimes, the chasm of doubt we stare down is that gaping and wide.��

If you don’t believe me, here’s a quote I love from an interview with one of my all-time favorite authors William Goldman . . .��:��

“One of the things I love to do when I work with young writers is to disabuse them�� of the notion that I know what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm doing. . . as we are�� speaking, I am looking at my computer, tearing out my hair, thinking, well, is this�� horrible, or is this going to work? I don't know. Storytelling is always tricky."

And guess what, folks, nearly eight years and three more books -- almost four -- later, and, yeah, I still don't know what I'm doing. I mean there's a gut thing, sure, and some skill honed, but in the end, for me, it's mostly the knowledge I can write, the understanding that I will have to dig down and revise over and over again, and one giant leap of faith.

Now for those who follow me on twitter or facebook, you may know I've been steeped in a pretty rough round of revisions for my next book JACK KEROUAC IS DEAD TO ME (St. Martins/Wednesday Books 2020).


So imagine my humor and delight when I opened that 8-year-old post to see that the very excerpt I had shared for feedback was none other than the then-opening of a manuscript I stated, "bears the working title,�� Jack Kerouac is Dead to Me."

And imagine my fading humor and delight as I read my old words and suddenly wondered if I liked them way better than the opening I've been working with for years now.**

Hilarious, right?



Here was that opening. YOU may be the judge when I share today's opening below:

"The butterflies arrived on a Saturday, but I waited till Sunday to open them since I needed Max’s help with the greenhouse. It was late April, and I had been dating Max Gordon a few weeks by then, but that particular day stuck with me because of how he built the greenhouse, and also because of what Aubrey had said.��"

Here's the thing, the reasons I started Friday Feedback back then, still hold relevant today. We write in a vacuum. We overwrite. We over-revise. We get too close. We have no idea.

It helps to have someone chime in.


My beautiful, kind, talented friend, Nora
who I'd be lost without. . .��When all of this unfolded, I did what we do. We look outside of the vacuum, and so I . I told her the story, then whimpered for help.

"I have no perspective anymore," I whined to her.

"It's this business," she said. "A writer friend once told me early on, 'Once you've been published, you never write the same again.' This always stuck with me. The trick is to write like you're never going to be published."

We both sighed. Of course we're both so grateful to be published, but for better or worse, it's a freedom neither of us has anymore. At least not without working hard to find our way back there. . .

But you do, friends. And so often it's viewed only as a hurdle, but not a freedom -- to write without constraints, perceived notions. To write within fear of the boxes you feel you must fit into.��

To simply explore your own voice.

To trust your instincts, and write forward.

And right now, you do.

So, enjoy the process and write forward.

Keep going.

All of those glorious things.

And now, my excerpt. The current opening of JACK KEROUAC:


Dearest Aubrey,
I’ve started this letter three times now, but each place I begin feels wrong. I get lost in the memories and my thoughts lose their way, and I have to start over again.
As hard as it is to find my way in, I know I need to try. I have to figure out why things happened the way they did between us, how we ended up hating each other so much. How we hurt each other the way we did.
Sometimes, I miss you so badly I can’t breathe, then I break down in tears, or get so mad at you I wonder why I even care if you hear me out, or understand. But, in my heart, I know why. It’s this simple: I need you to understand because you were the one person who always did.
So, maybe I’ll start a few months ago, in early spring, when the tropical butterflies arrived. That’s when everything changed, when things really went downhill.
I promise you this, Aubrey, everything I write is the truth, to the best of my ability to recount things. Both the good and the bad that led up to me leaving in the middle of the night. There’s so much you don’t know -- both the best parts, and the ugliest parts of what happened.
The last brutal part that nobody can ever know, except you, now, here.
Ugh, I was about to rip this up again and start over, or maybe scrap it altogether, but a butterfly just landed on the railing in front of me: Pontia Protodice, Common Checkered White, subtropical. We don’t get them there in New York. It’s not that it’s such a special butterfly, rather just a small white thing with two black squares on the back of its wings. “False eyes,�� they call them. They’re there to trick predators away. But, that’s the thing, Aubrey: think what you want, I don’t have false eyes. I did the best I could with Max, with Mom, with everything.

People think butterflies are solitary creatures by nature, because we see them so often on their own, flitting over a meadow, stopping to steal nectar from the throat of a flower, before moving on. Even this one, here, now, on this railing, is all alone.
But the truth is different. Butterflies are social by nature. They cluster when they are able to because they know there is safety in numbers.
You were always my best friend, Aubrey. My safety.

I hope you will understand.
***


With much love,

Gae

** p.s. In a panic, I wrote Nora with the blog post and the two beginnings. . . and I'll reveal what she wrote -- her "Friday Feedback" -- on Sunday in the comments. ;)��

***p.p.s. I have two different giveaways going on on my facebook author page for IN SIGHT OF STARS. !

***p.p.p.s And on 8/12 Nora, Tom Rogers and I will be hosting a facebook event, called Teaching 9/11: . Join us! There will be "Lit Circle" giveaways there, too!��

Happy Friday, all you glorious writers!!

It's time for Friday Feedback again, and we have the awesome returning with another stellar share on writing picture books and the "Dos and Don'ts of Rhyming."��

As if that's not enough, he has a bonus announcement, so I'll shut up and let him get going!��



Look for another giveaway of a
"lit circle set" coming soon on my
***Please remember before you participate to read , and if you're not working on a picture book, that's okay, you may still participate and we will give you feedback in the comments! And if you like what we do here, please buy our books (my newest is ��(but you want all of them ;) ) and Josh's newest is ��(but you want all of them!) ) and share our titles with your friends.��

If you can't buy ALL the books, ask your local library to order them in. ***

And now, without further ado, here's Josh with his picture book magic and a special announcement saved for all of us here!!!

Hey, friends! I’m psyched that Gae invited me back to Teachers Write Friday Feedback for a second year!
Josh Funk writes silly stories and somehow tricks people into publishing them as books -
such as the��������������,
��(and the upcoming sequel��),����,��,��,����and more!!!
You may remember that I also shared a portion of a manuscript called It’s Not Hansel and Gretel (a follow-up to my 2017 book .��

More on that in a bit. *wink*��
This year, I’d like to discuss Rhyming Picture Books.
In the coming months, my 8th ( Lost in the Library on 8.28) and 9th ( Lady Pancake & Sir French Toast #3: Mission Defrostable on 9.25) picture books will be released (). Of those nine books, seven of them are written in rhyme.



You may have heard that rhyming picture books are frowned upon within the industry. However, as an educator, you’ve probably noticed that there are still lots of new picture books released every year that are written in rhyme. So what’s the deal?
The simple answer is that it’s hard to write in rhyme - or in other words, it’s easy to write bad rhyme. And agents and editors see lots and lots and LOTS of bad rhyme, which is what gives all rhyme the negative stigma.
But whyis it so hard to write good rhyming picture books? My theory is that there are a LOT of mistakes you can make along the way - very few DOs and a plethora of �ٰ���’Ts: Here’s a short(ish) list of tips to get you thinking*:
DO remember that the most important aspect of a rhyming picture book is not the rhyme, or even the rhythm. The most important aspect of a rhyming picture book is that it has a good story.
DO know that rhythm is more difficult to master than rhyme. Any first grader can rhyme. But creating a rhythm that all readers will read correctly, regardless of accent, without having ever read or heard the words before - that is very difficult and can take years of practice.
�ٰ���’T expect your rhyming picture picture book to be translated into other languages. If it rhymes in English, it isn’t likely to rhyme in Spanish. Or Mandarin. Or Klingon.
�ٰ���’T say that your manuscript rhymes in your query letter to agents - it will only give them a reason to stop reading before they get to the actual story.
�ٰ���’T force yourself to study poetry. I love poetry, but the truth is, you don’t need to know anything about iambic septameter or how many metrical feet are in your manuscript. You just have to craft it so the reader can read (and perform) it well.
�ٰ���’T commit the following examples of Rhyme Crime:
Simple, Everyday, Cliche Rhyme: “My cat ate my hat, well look at that.��Near Rhyme: “I see a staple, it’s right on the table.”��Forced Rhyme: “I opened my giant umbrella. It’s raining, I said to that fella.��Regional Rhyme/Rhythm: “In England, you see lots of rain. But I’m in the U.S. again.��Seussian Rhyme: “Dr. Seuss was Dr. Seuss, and nobody else can do that shlamboose.��Yoda Rhyme: “It’s raining and wet. In the car, I must get.��
�ٰ���’T��give up. I believe that anyone can write in rhyme if they’re willing to put in the time and get the proper feedback.
*��Of course, these are only my opinions. You’re welcome to disagree. And you’re likely to find many examples of published books that go against these DOs and �ٰ���’Ts, perhaps even examples from my own books.
And with that, this IS Friday Feedback, so for your feedback, I’d like to share a portion of an untitled future (hopefully) Lady Pancake & Sir French Toast rhyming picture book manuscript, in which, after several adventures and who knows how many days/weeks/years of sitting in a fridge, our main characters begin to start feeling their moldy old age... As Gae warned above, please READ THE RULES first if you've never participated before.

Also, since picture books have a minimum of words, sharing here for that format (vs a middle grade, YA or adult work in progress) means sharing a substantial part of your text which then puts it out in the world. . .�� As such, at the end of the weekend, Gae will be redacting the comments with substantial picture books excerpts (leaving my feedback up for you to return to whenever you need).

Okay, so here we go!

[Page 8-9]
Baron Von Waffle said, “Yup. You look gruesome.I’ve never seen such a hideous twosome.��Inspector Croissant said, “But wait! There’s a cure!Check out Professor Garbanzo’s brochure!��
[brochure] Starting to mildew or curdle or crumble? Don’t sit around and complain, pout, and grumble! Try out my patented DE-spoiling ray! Feel fresh again. Come and visit today!
[Page 10-11]
Off to Professor Garbanzo’s they strode.Down to her lab on Falafel Ball Road.“Greetings!�� she said as she tightened a gear.“Here for despoiling? Terrific! Sit here!��Nervously, Pancake and Toast buckled in.Garbanzo gave one tiny knob a quick spin.
[Page 12-13]
With whooshes and whistles, a spark and a blastThe despoiling ray shot a laser at last!“Where did they go?�� Waffle asked through the smoke.“Right over here!�� a falsetto voice spoke.Inspector Croissant asked, “Who said that? A ghost?��
[Page 14-15]
“I’m Mini Miss Pancake.�� “I’m Squire French Toast!��
I appreciate any and all feedback you’ve got.
(Regarding the pagination, I’d plan for this book to be the same length (40 pages) as the previous books in the Lady Pancake & Sir French Toast series with 16 full spreads. For more information on lengths of picture books, see )
Oh, and now for that *BONUS* Announcement:

In part due to all of the wonderful feedback you gave me last year (thank you very much, FF-ers!), It’s Not Hansel and Gretel is becoming a book. And here today, as part of Friday Feedback and #TeachersWrite, I’m pleased to reveal the cover:




Illustrated brilliantly once again by Edwardian Taylor, It’s Not Hansel and Gretel will be released on March 1st, 2019 -
Thanks again for having me and for reading! I look forward to reading yourmanuscript excerpts.

xox Josh -- and gae!


��**For more information about Josh Funk, visit him at and on Twitter at .

You know how you can instantly love a person your best friend loves?��Well, it's the same��with your agent or editor: if they love a writer, you love them, which is much how I feel about Erin Hahn who is here today, and whose debut YOU'D BE MINE is coming April 2019 from the fabulous Vicki Lame (MY editor! ;)) and Wednesday Books."Seventeen-year-old Annie Mathers is the folksy heiress to a country music dynasty that ended in her parents' tragic deaths five years ago. Since then, she's been hiding on her grandparents' farm where she intends to stay. Indefinitely. That is, until superstar Clay Coolidge shows up on her porch and convinces her to join his summer tour. . . "��You can read the rest ��Erin is here today with a totally stellar post on using the five senses. To tell the truth, the most I've learned about writing, I've learned here on my own blog from guest authors who have taken the time over the past five summers to share gems like this one. I plan to steal this post verbatim -- with credit!!! -- when I teach!

If you, too, appreciate the work Erin has done here today, please preorder and help spread the word! And if you can't preorder, ask your local library to preorder it in! Oh, and if you want to follow Erin on twitter, you can do so��.

One of the earliest compliments I received from an industry professional about my writing was that my style was “evocative.�� I’ll be honest. I had to double check the definition and definitely did one of those “Who ME?�� after reading it, but it’s stuck with me because it’s certainly something I’ve always strived for. I want to transport a reader. I want them to see something in my book exactly as I see it in my mind. Obviously, that’s a fraught expectation. I mean, everyone gets something different when they read a passage. But every now and again I’ll hit home with a reader and it’s so satisfying. Believe it or not I have a process for this. Not intentionally, mind you, but one day I happened to be guest teaching fifth grade and the teacher left me with a very shallow creative writing lesson. Little did he know, creative writing was my full time job! So I ran with it, figuring I could always apologize later if he hated the outcome (spoiler: he did not, in fact, hate the outcome). Here’s what it comes down to: Whenever you are taking a reader some place new, take an inventory of what it feels like, smells like, looks like, tastes like and sounds like. It’s the fastest way to get them to that place and while you’re at it, it has the added benefit of bringing you there as well. And the deeper you are in your own scene, the better. In my current YA, I’m writing about teens who work in radio and they go all over the place, as teens tend to do. At the moment, I’m crafting a scene where my main character, Vada, is on a “date�� with an older coworker at a small music venue. Think dive bar. My audience is YA, so I can assume most of them haven’t spent a whole lot of time in dive bars, so my work is cut out for me. Here is the initial introduction to the scene:“The venue is a dark and dismal kind of place. Lots of people milling around, but there’s only one I’m concerned about- the one I shouldn’t have said yes to.”Okay, so this is a typical first draft intro for me. I’m more concerned with plot and character development at this point, so I often will put in a “place holder.�� Get it? PLACE holder? Sorry. Essentially, remind myself where I’m at, set the tone just enough to give me some realistic character motivation, and move on. So let’s pretend, though, that my draft is done (oh how I wish). Now it’s time for me to read back through and start fluffing out the settings. I’ll go scene by scene, making sure each one is giving the reader a clear picture of where the characters are. Almost like if they just walked into the scene with you. What do they see? Only two people talking in a blank white space? Or in my case, one person musing in “a dark and dismal�� kind of place? No good. Let’s go back. First, what do they feel? Not emotionally, although that could come too, depending on how you draft. Right now, though, I’m concerned with purely physical feeling. Here’s what I’m feeling in my mind: Overly air-conditioned because of the show, so goosebumps. My shoes are sticking to the disgusting floor. I might be feeling sort of clammy at all the nasty germs around, since I’m like that. Maybe my character sort of is, too. Maybe I feel the rush of air as strangers push past me. Maybe I feel them shove and press against me. Maybe my face prickles hot with discomfort since I feel out of my element with this date I didn’t want. Feeling. Got it. Let’s go back to my original line and layer some feels in. “The venue is a dark and dismal kind of place. Lots of people milling around, closing in and crushing against me as they wrestle for a better view, but there’s only one I’m concerned about- the one I shouldn’t have said yes to. I rub my arms, cursing my thin hoodie. It’s doing nothing against the overly air-conditioned chill. I shift and my cheeks prickle as a man in front of me gives me a look of annoyance. “Sorry,�� I mutter, sidestepping and encountering something sticky under my shoe.”Okay. Feels. Got them. Is this done? No way. Let’s hit up taste next. What does Vada taste? Again, my Vada is barely 18. YA all the way. So if I’m 18 and I just came from a dinner to a bar for a concert, there’s a good chance I’m chewing gum. Or drinking Sprite. Or an ice water. I might taste the garlic from my dinner. Maybe I’m so anxious, I taste bile in the back of my throat. Unless your character is actively eating, taste might be tricky to define but it doesn’t hurt to ask. So how does taste fit in my excerpt? Let’s look:“The venue is a dark and dismal kind of place. Lots of people milling around, closing in and crushing against me as they wrestle for a better view, but there’s only one I’m concerned about- the one I shouldn’t have said yes to. The garlic pesto I had for dinner churns and swallowing hard, I can taste it in the back of my throat. I rub my arms, cursing my thin hoodie. It’s doing nothing against the overly air-conditioned chill. I shift and my cheeks prickle as a man in front of me gives me a look of annoyance. “Sorry,�� I mutter, side-stepping and encountering something sticky under my shoe.”Okay, Erin, you might be thinking, panicking slightly at the sheer number of words I’m adding. Chill. We will still edit, friends. Trust the process. Breathe. Moving on to sound.Sound is easy on this one. We’re at a concert. It’s loud, blaring, in fact. People are singing and shouting over the singing. Whistling, screaming, clapping. But here is where I think we can step back. It’s not necessary to list all of those. My reader knows they are at a rock concert. I don’t need to list every individual sound. In fact, it’s way better that you don’t because I don’t know about you, but I’ve never heard each individual sound. I hear ALL the sounds at once. It’s a ruckus. Its more a feeling than a sound, isn’t it? Thrumming in your ears, pounding in your chest. So how do we incorporate that?Alright, sound. Done. I should add that sound can sometimes be hard to pin down. Like I mentioned before, we don’t always separate individual sounds when we’re someplace, taking it in. It’s more natural to drown out sounds to hear what we need. I’ve been known to check out Sound Clouds on YouTube in the past. Or even Atmospheric stations on Pandora Radio. They work great with things like “Forrest at night�� or “Busy city street�� or whatnot. Give them a try!��The last two are probably the easiest. Smell and sight. Let’s start with smell. At a concert, I’m smelling body odor and the sour scent of spilled alcohol and the skunky smell of pot�� maybe too much cologne or perfume. Now that I think of it, concerts are pretty gross. But I digress. So our one line has turned into two paragraphs so far. Which is amazing. A reader entering into this scene is going to really feel like they are ENTERING into our scene and experiencing what Vada is experiencing. One last sense�� sight. What do we see? I’m seeing couples kissing, frats guys pumping their fists and stage lights blaring and blinding. Of course, I want to see what VADA is seeing and she’s overwhelmed and feeling regret at showing up, so what she is seeing is tainted with that. She might not care about the couples kissing or the frat guys. She’s more likely getting a headache from the lights. Let’s try that. And that’s it. All our five senses. If you read carefully, you might have noticed that I changed her “I shift,�� to “I stumble forward�� somewhere in all of that. When I noticed that Vada was becoming distracted and disoriented, it made sense. I’m the author. I get to change it.

Hey campers,Hope your first week of Teachers Write (or whatever else you did this week) was wonderful! Friday Feedback, for sure, is full of pure wonderfulness today. No, seriously, you'll see. . .Ima do a really brief introduction because the post is long and chock-full of great information...
Suffice it to say, is guest hosting, and for those who don't know, , author of many award-winning middle grade and young adult��,��she's also been working on her memoir (and will be teaching memoir writing this fall at SUNY Purchase!) which she's been serializing on her blog, called��, and you can quickly see how poignant and beautiful her writing is there! If you to her blog you may do so .�� In addition to all that, she's one of the kindest, most deeply-feeling humans on earth and pretty much my BFF, to boot.����
So, today, she's talking about memoir writing, but to be sure, as the title says, Story is Story is Story -- so whatever you're working on, feel free to share an excerpt here. In the spirit of the theme, if you can choose an intimate and personal moment in your WIP (Work In Progress) even better! Look forward to seeing you in the comments!And Nora and all my guest authors (and I!) work hard to write these posts, give you feedback, and share our thoughts with you, so please, please, please order Nora's books. If you can't afford to order yet one more book (we understand!), please call your local library and make sure they've ordered her newest titles, and ����!��
Writing Memoir

���������������������� In some ways it seems only natural�� for me, that after 13 semi-autobiographical fictional novels for young readers, I would now be brought back to writing the same stories, the same characters, the same themes, the same history, but this time with no barriers, this time as memoir. ���������������������� There is also no lack of irony here, as our contemporary world moves the line of non-fiction closer to what was once considered fiction, the line of fiction gets blurred as well. ���������������������� Yet here I find myself:�� passionately drawn to telling another another form of the same truth, once again, for the first time.
���������������������� So why write memoir?
���������������������� I don’t think I can explain (at least myreasons) any better than I did in my actual weekly-serialized-memoir-experiment () so if you are interested you can read this entry, and hopefully you’ll want to subscribe (just add your email) and join me on this journey.�� I’d be honored to have you.���������������������� ���������������������� But for this Friday Feedback I thought I would take you through some of the pitfalls and successes, some of the things I’ve learned over the thirty plus years I’ve been trying to figure out who I am through this crazy process of creative writing, both fiction and non-fiction.
So here goes:
���������������������� 1. Story with a capital S
The same exact “rules�� for writing fiction apply to writing memoir. In other words STORY comes first, which is just a little trickier when your hands are tied by having to�� stick to the facts. (which by the way, you HAVE to do in memoir!) ���������������������� So by “rules�� (knowing that rules are meant to be broken- but not until you know what they are, and are proficient in using them)�� I mean: ���������������������� Beginning, middle, and end.���������������������� Rising action, conflict, climax, resolution.���������������������� Character development, motivation, meaningful dialogue.���������������������� plot, tension.
���������������������� All those same annoying things you have to think about, even when you are free to make everything up. ���������������������� Patty Dann, author of the beautiful book describes it like this:

"Writing fiction is like digging holes for posts in hard earth, steadying the posts, stringing the line, and then hanging up the clothes, with clothespins in your mouth, all the while watching out for rain. ��With memoir writing, the posts are there, and maybe the line is stung, but you still have to figure out how to hang the clothes."��������������������
���������������������� Mary Karr, the brilliant memoirist ,writes in her book�� ,��
“I once heard Don Lillo quip that a fiction writer starts with meaning and then manufactures events to represent it; a memoirist starts with events, then derives meaning from them.”��������������
���������������������� Bottom line, don’t be fooled. Good memoir writing is not easy at all.�� In many ways, it’s harder than writing fiction. Interestingly it’s harder to tell the truth when you are stuck with the facts.
2. Have Some Distance ���������������������� While it is crucial (I believe) that one should write —as Patty Dann says—out of “Love or Anger�� you are probably going to need a little (a lot) of distance from the experience, or from yourself ,to see clearly, to see other’s, to see without the cloud of too much LOVE or too much ANGER. ���������������������� I’m not saying that revenge isn't a good motivator, but you’ve got to be far enough back to see the forest through the trees. To see the whole picture. To not paint yourself a victim. To trulyfind the truth. It may taking writing the story, the same story over and over and over again for years, before this happens. ���������������������� But it will happen. ���������������������� Wait for it.
3.�� You had a terrible childhood, yeah so what? Everyone has..or thinks they have. �� �� �� �� �� �� Some stories are truly tragic and we are drawn to them because we love survival stories. by Tara Westover and of course, by Jeanette Walls as well as Frank McCourt, and dozens of others. But there are quieter, less dramatic memoirs like about friendship.�� It’s all in the language, the story telling, the observations. It’s not in the history.�� ��
������������������������ One of the best learning experiences I had happened when I took a memoir writing course with at Sarah Lawrence College�� and by the way, if you ever have the opportunity to take a class with her . . . do it!�� ���������������������� We all had to read samples of each other’s work during the week-long intensive and one women wrote exclusively about being hit as a child. It was self-indulgent and pathetic. She clearly wanted the reader to feel sorry for her but what she achieved was quite the opposite. It was dark and humorless, and well boring. ���������������������� But I learned something very important reading her story: It really isn’t what happened to you (many people of a certain generation were spanked pretty severely as child) but how you perceived it.
Self-pity makes for a terrible book.
���������������������� We want to feel for the narrator, not feel sorry for them, so don’t write about your experience until have gotten over yourself.
���������������������� What insight, what meaning, of what importance is your story?
���������������������� Traumatic experiences don’t make great memoir writing, great writing does.�� Your vision, your lens, the way you organize history to reveal something new. That’s a memoir. You are NOT writing an auto-biography, a list of events, a play by play of your life, not unless you are Johnny Depp or Hilary Clinton or Jane Fonda.
3. Friends and Family Beware
�������������������� �� �� ����If you are not ready or willing to sell everyone down the river with you, don’t bother writing. Or wait till they are dead. ���������������������� Or tell a different story.���������������������� Or write fiction. ���������������������� You can’t protect your loved ones when writing memoir if you are going to write about them, any more than you should protect yourself. Joyce Maynard was brutally attacked by critics (mostly J. D. Salinger fans) when she wrote her memoir At Home in the World ()�� She was called, amongst other things,�� “shameless.�� She will tell be happy to let you know today, that’s exactly what you have to be to write a memoir:�� Shameless.…w���ٳ�dzܳ� SHAME. ���������������������� You have to be brave. Willing to look at yourself honestly. Willing to expose your pimples and warts. Take responsibility. See all sides. In other words you have to be your best self while revealing your worst.
��4.�� There Is No Absolute Truth
���������������������� Remember, whether in fiction or non-fiction even the antagonist doesn’t think he’s the bad guy of the story.�� As I said before, revenge writing isn’t wrong (as a motivator) but twisting a story to get back at someone is. Twisting a story to make someone look BETTER than they are is also.. . well, wrong.
premature p.s. -- I am going to interject something here that may or may not belong in this exact spot. But when rendering dialogue in memoir it is, of course, impossible to remember verbatim words from yesterday, let alone twenty years ago. So, there is an unspoken acceptance that you will try to duplicate dialogue to the best of your ability, your most honest recollection, to get the gist of what what was said, if not the exact words. ���������������������� And there is an unspoken understanding that you may be completely full of shit. ������������������ �� �� �� �� �� Both. ���������������������� So do your best.��And, as in fiction, keep dialogue brief, and meaningful, and as realistic as possible.
���� �� �� �� �� ����You will write a different memoir today than you will write ten years from now. And that’s how it should be. Tell the truth the best you can in the time you are telling your story.You are a truth-seeker, NOT a truth-teller. ���������������������� No one is the keeper of that.�� Truth changes.�� It is not static, it is not even true. When you understand that you will write a better memoir.
5. READ Like There is No Tomorrow ���������������������� Lastly �� because who am I to tell anyone anything about writing, let alone writing memoir?�� There is only one true teacher: READING. ���������������������� Read what you love AND read what sucks. ���������������������� Read something great, and try to reach for that level of excellence. Analyze it. Dissect it. Look for the structure, the climax, the themes, the lyrical language, great word choice. What works? Why do you love it? How does the author play with time? Does he write in chronologic order or jump back and forth between past and present? Does she write in the child voice and grow as the years go by (Jeanette Walls), or is written as an adult looking back with that perspective and wisdom (as does Marry Karr)? Or a combination?�� ���������������������� Most of all look for what the author has chosen to show the reader. Memoir is a manipulation. Of course it is. It has to be. It’s nothing less, but nothing more than your version of the truth.��
���������������������� Look for which scenes the author has chosen to put side by side. That is your color pallet and your brushes. (words are your colors)�� Juxtaposition is crucial—that’s where the story lies. Between the lines.
A memoir writer is a master manipulator, but not an exploiter.
And then read some really awful memoirs (contact me if you need a list!) and you’ll�� quickly realize: Hey, I can do better than that piece of crap!
���������������������� Look, everyone has a story to tell. They do. But you need to know WHY you want to tell your story and you have to tell it well. You have to write beautifully, specifically, meaningfully, with only salientdetails, and with heart.��
But write it down.
���������������������� Get it out on paper because no matter how many times you’ve regaled your friends at the dinner table with your interesting story, no matter how many years you’ve ruminated and spent processing your unique history, no matter how many hours you’ve spent in therapy,�� it is very, very, VERY different when you write your story down.
���������������������� So trust the process.
���������������������� Something powerful, and maybe a little magical, happens when you let the memory flow from your brain, to your hands, to the tips of your fingers, and out onto a blank page. Smells you’ve forgotten, sounds you didn’t know you heard, things you didn’t remember seeing, illuminations and revelations will present themselves to you in ways you never expected.
So stand naked and go forth!

And now, since it is Friday Feedback, time to do some sharing and critiquing! If you aren't familiar with the RULES please read them :��

And here is Nora's excerpt from her Memoir, Closer to the Sun:

�� �� �� �� �� I missed my sister terribly. If I had ever felt whole, it would have been like having an arm cut off, or an eye taken out, but to be honest, at this point, I was pretty used to operating with fewer cylinders, less gas, a flat tire or two. I still had my bike, my body, and now, a whole dairy farm spread out in front of me. Cornfields to run through, a flat country road that ran along the river to explore, the town library where I could take out books as often as I could ride my bike there. And food, like ice cream, readily available.���������������������� But Anne’s visits were hard for me. I can’t think of explaining it any other way, except for this: Imagine someone you loved very much and expected would be in your life forever suddenly dumped you, letting you know you were just about the most unlovable, worthless human on earth. However this person who dumped you, didn’t dump your sister. So every time your sister comes to visit, you know she is going to go back to be with the very person who didn’t want you anymore. But still wanted her. ���������������������� And then you would have it. Sort of. ���������������������� Until Anne’s mother dumped her, too.���������������������� But not exactly.���������������������� Because this is where stories can collide and can actually explode, showering down with shards of glass that cut and wound deeply but never reflect the whole truth, only slivers of it. ���������������������� My father will say that Jean had a boyfriend who was moving to California and didn’t want Anne anymore, so she set up a situation whereby he had to go to court and sue for full custody. And Jean will say that my dad wanted Anne to live with him, had more money and more resources, sued for full custody in family court, and won. My dad will say it was becoming so clear that Jean was an unfit mother he had to sue for full custody to protect Anne. Jean will say he dragged her through the mud, with lawyers and even the testimony of his new blond, perky wife, Barbara, and that she had no other choice but to move to California with her new boyfriend, Alvin. And have another baby.
�� �� �� �� �� ����So after a year and half, Anne came to live with us on Springtown Road.

��- Nora & gae

Dear readers
(campers/teachers/librarians/aspiring writers),

here is��what you might want to know about me as I lead you through a summer of writing:

I have no idea how I've written well over ten manuscripts, sold half of them, had four already come out in traditionally published form.

None.

Like, zero.

Zilch.

I mean, yes, sure, fine: I know I did certain things, dug down, persevered, sat "ass in chair" for endless hours, hitting keys, and so on. But the stories themselves? Still after all this time, I have NO idea how those come.

Here's the hard cold truth:

I am not a person who has stories spilling out of my pores.

The world interests me -- moves me infinitely -- but it's the small moments I get caught up in, sort of free-floating curiosities -- beginnings, perhaps, but not more. Sparks of ideas, clearly without middles or ends.


A father walks out.








A boy too young to swim dives into a pool.


A tower comes down changing everything.














Someone draws a mark across someone else's artwork.





There is a moment of breaking.

A moment of healing.

Possibly, a moment of falling in love.




That's it, people. That's all I have when I enter into my stories. That is what I dive in with.

And, so, each time I find myself having finished one and back at a beginning, I doubt my ability, not to write the story once it arrives, but to have the story -- any story-- come in the first place.

And when it does, and I reach a middle and, finally, a shining end, I'm never quite sure how I got there.


So, HOW do I do it? Well. I can tell you how I don't. I don't sit at a blank screen willing shit to come. For me, that would never make it happen.

For me, for story to come, I take myself away from the computer and I swim.

I swim.

I swim.


And while I am swimming, I start asking myself questions:

What triggered this moment? And why does this moment matter to me? What does it say about life? About the world around us? About being human?

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

And more questions: What do I have to add to that? What do I have to explore or impart?

What do *I* have to say?

Here's how some of the above moments might expand outward in that way to hint at story:

A father walks out.
A boy has to step up. Stop burying his head in the sand and learn how to be an adult.

To stop running away and come home.

How do we do this alone?
Maybe we don't. We find a friend.

I have something to say about friendship.




A boy too young to swim dives into a pool.

A girl is frozen, can't help him.

Why?

What has happened to make her afraid?

She has failed somewhere. Failed mightily. And now she has no self worth.

What will help her feel brave again?

Ans what do I have to say about this? Something about forgiveness:
Forgiving others and ourselves. . .




Someone draws a mark across another person's artwork.

That someone is a boy who wants to be an artist. He knows this is wrong,
so why?

He's hurting and desperate for connection.

He's got good reason: he needs help. Too much hurt and pain have piled on.

What do I have to say about this?
There are ways to seek help. There are good, skilled people who want to help us. And we also have the ability to help ourselves.


So, if you are about to embark on your Teachers Write/Friday Feedback summer, and have no story idea in mind, start looking for moments, asking questions, and walk away from the screen and jump into the proverbial or literal water and swim.

And if you already have that story started? Ask those same questions. Ask the louder and harder, over and over again. And keep answering them. Ask them through first and second drafts, and endless drafts of revisions.

AND now, without further ado, Friday Feedback Summer 2018 and THE RULES (they are there for a reason. Please read AND follow them!)


FRIDAY FEEDBACK SUMMER 2018.

How does it work?��Easy peasy:
Every week, I -- or one of my awesome guest authors -- will share a tiny bit of writing wisdom followed by an excerpt of our own ROUGH, UNPUBLISHED writing for your feedback. In return, we offer you the same opportunity: to share a brief excerpt in the comments for feedback from us -- AND from other campers!).��
See? Simple and exciting. There are just a few RULES:��
1.��The Feedback should be specific and�� always ��be given in this order:
WHAT WORKS (and why)?;WHAT MIGHT NOT BE WORKING if anything (and why)?; andARE YOU COMPELLED TO KEEP READING?
Please note the order of those. Here at Friday Feedback, our first goal is to be encouraging. We appreciate the gems in one��another's writing before we offer up constructive criticism.
2. The excerpts should not exceed three (3) paragraphs, if long, five (5) paragraphs if mostly dialogue or otherwise short. This rule holds even if I, or my guest authors, post a longer excerpt.��
There may be 30 - 50 excerpts up here on a busy week for me and/or my guest authors to read. If you put up more than the requested length, we do not promise to read beyond the stated limits. You may post excerpts through Saturday and I will check in, but I do not require my guest authors to read past close of business Friday.��
3.��We ask you to remember this: there is only so much we can realistically glean from a brief excerpt out of context.��Friday Feedback is intended to be instructional and inspiring, but please know our feedback��out of context of a full work��must always be taken as merely that. Your job here is to take in the information as you will. Keep what you like. Toss what you don't. In the end,��you are the boss of your own writing.
4. You may be the recipient of one of my patented "Superspeed Flash Edits."
Okay, fine, they're not patented, whatever. Sometimes, if your excerpt lends itself to me doing one of these, I will do so: namely, zip through your piece editing for passive voice (where not intended) unneeded words, wrong punctuation, repetition, etc.
I will NOT edit your own unique voice or substantive writing. This is an exercise intended to demonstrate how revision/clean up/intentional writing can truly make our voices pop and shine. And this is almost always SECOND DRAFT STUFF -- the stuff of REVISION -- and is merely intended to make you aware of potential tics and such that take away from your own beautiful worl.
If you do NOT want to be the recipient of a Superspeed Flash Edit for any reason, please message me at [email protected] and I'll remember not to edit you. :)��
5. I know many of you work summers and may not find time to post your excerpt until late Friday evening. I do not ask any of my guest authors to return Saturday, but some of them are willing. I will often return Saturday morning to give stragglers feedback. Please don't post beyond that. Please note that Friday Feedback takes a lot of work -- often a whole day's work, offered to you for free as a source of inspiration and encouragement. If you participate here, please either order my newest title,��, and the newest title of my guest authors, or if you are unable to purchase a copy, please reach out to your local library and ask them to order it in! And if you are an audiobook lover, I HIGHLY recommend����

And, now, since I always go first, I just happened to have written a potential new beginning to my next novel (for those who have known me a while, you have seen this title floating out here for a long while now....), JACK KEROUAC IS DEAD TO ME.

I'm doing a major revision under the guidance of my fab editor, Vicki Lame, and playing with some voice and technical stuff in the story, so I'm anxious to hear what works for you, what doesn't, and whether you are compelled to keep reading?

The day is hot. We are running through a sprinkler in my backyard, dodging in and out of the water that fans over us, shrieking gleefully as cold droplets rain down on our tanned shoulders, our stomachs, our legs. You push me closer as the arc of water returns, and I fall onto the grass, laughing, managing to take you down with me. The sod under us is new and soft, and the freshly mown blades stick to our limbs, our bodies, our faces. We don’t care; we have no one to impress but ourselves. We are giddy with summer, with each other. We are still on the cusp of everything.After, you turn off the hose, and we lie on faded chaise lounges we have dragged to the middle of my yard. Our chests heave with rapid, satisfied breaths in our barely-filled-out bikini tops. You reach out and take my hand.“You are perfect, JL, you know it?�� you say. “I have never had a friend as perfect as you.”“No I’m not, don’t be stupid,�� I snap back, wanting to untangle my fingers, detach for a moment, but you only squeeze harder.“Well, I think you are. I wish I were more like you, pretty and free, and not afraid of anything. Like your mother. Plus, I can tell you anything, all sorts of secrets and they’re safe with you �� with us.”You think it’s a compliment when you say this, to tell me that I am like my mother. To think I am unfettered in that way. Yet even as you say it, something else lurks at the edges of your words. You have judged me, decided who I am. And, at some point, I will prove you wrong and fail you. Something scares me deeply about this truth. “I am not,�� I say, my face reddening in protest, but you don’t look to see, and even if you did, you couldn’t tell my blush from the spreading color of heat from the sun.“Are too,�� you insist. “I wish I could be more like you.”So maybe I’m wrong.Maybe you’re not judging me at all.I squeeze your fingers back, wanting to agree with you instead, to get back to the lightness, and hold onto whatever spell has you so enamored with me. Or maybe I’m weak and don’t have the heart to call out the lie, or tell you how afraid of everything I really am.

"In Sight of Stars��deals with mental health, Vincent Van Gogh, family and recovery; all told in some of the most beautiful prose you will probably ever read. As far as I'm concerned, [this novel] is the equivalent to “Starry Night Over the Rhone,�� making Gae Polisner the Vincent Van Gogh of young adult fiction."��-��Teen Reads




May is -- has been --��, and I have a LOT to "say" about that, except that on the 4th of May -- very un "force" like -- or, maybe exactly force-like -- I fell and broke my hand very un-ninja style, and my typing is, shall we say, fucking limited.��

So, suffice that I want to say this:

WE ALL SUFFER.��
We do.


Some greatly.Some less so.

I believe it's only a matter of degree and circumstance that separates us.

And if you suffer, there is help out there. Even if you don't suffer acutely, the help is useful. The help can be life-changing. (In this regard, I have witnessed����be life changing, though, as always, it matters that you find a good and skilled therapist/center that fits for you).

If there is one thing I hope readers might take from��, it is this:

Open yourself. Know you are worthy. Let people in.��
And, if you want to know more specifics, reach out to me.��
xox gae




** now out in��narrated by the awesome Michael Crouch��

IN SIGHT OF STARS came out last Tuesday to some of the most wonderful accolades any of my books have ever received, including a starred review from Booklist, great reviews from School Library Journal and Kirkus, and an amazing review from ��in which the teen reviewer wrote, "IN SIGHT OF STARS deals with mental health, Vincent van Gogh, family and recovery; all told in some of the most beautiful prose you will probably ever read,"��plus that gorgeous quote on the left, which I may have asked my publicist to turn into that pretty, fancy social whim.

School Library Journal wrote of the book:

"In the vein of Ned Vizzini's��It's Kind of a Funny Story, Polisner's short novel destigmatizes mental illness, emphasizing that everyone needs a little help sometimes. Readers will laugh, cry, and ache alongside Klee as they follow his recover. In a sea of recent contemporary novels about teens with mental illnesses, this one stands out for its strong writing, likable protagonist, and overwhelmingly positive messages."��

While Booklist called it, "An intense, sometimes graphic, totally heartbreaking portrait of a character who will keep pages turning.”��

A teen blogger for wrote of it,��"Gae Polisner’s latest release is nothing short of extraordinary. As I like to say, this book is the lovechild of Stephen Chbosky’s��The Perks of Being a Wallflower��and Ned Vizzini’s��It’s Kind of a Funny Story... One of the most compelling and important books on the shelves today, giving teens an outlet to feel heard and understood."��

There's more wonderful praise to be found on and at ŷ������, but better than all the praise was the amazing celebration of the book I got to share with friends and family at .

Despite a nor'easter the morning of that had my hair salon calling to regretfully cancel my blow out due to weather, and my husband and I shoveling away a solid 8" of snow three hours before the release, by show time, the snow had stopped, the roads were clear, and we had a packed house of nearly 100, standing room only, a sea of friendly faces consisting of loved ones, political action warriors (we had a voter registration table and a gun reform table!!!) and friends, swim buddies, and more!!! Of course, I'd like to believe they all came for me, but we all know we all came for the very same thing, myself included:

SHEET CAKE. And oh there was.


The night of. . .��The day after.Gosh, I miss those cakes!!!! (Costco sheetcakes decorated by me, by the way. Nothing more delicious on earth!)

All in all, it's been a wonderful launch. For those who don't know, Klee, my main character is an artist, and much I know about art, I know from my mom, an amazing artist in her own right.

In the spirit of the evening, she hand-painted me some amazing Van Gogh inspired starry pants, and the rest of my family some sunflower ISOS shirts!!

my sister, dad and mom. . . you can barely see the awesomeness of my pants here, but oh well.

For any of you who wish you could have been there, but were not, I did a facebook live virtual book launch last night . Feel free to breeze through and just get the flavor.

And for all who read and love IN SIGHT OF STARS, please share that love with your friends and book clubs, and put up reviews at , , and your other favorite online sites (Instagram, twitter, etc!). They matter! They really do!!

Happy reading!

xox gae

p.s. if you are a teacher or educator and would like to use IN SIGHT OF STARS in your classroom, a phenomenal teacher's guide is coming soon!! I will link here and on my website! And if students are interested, I keep a Pinterest Board for most of my manuscripts in progress, and sometimes toss things onto the board post release, and you can find my board here:��