Guest post

“When Characters Come Alive”

“Do Lucy and Alice know each other?”

A young reader asked me this recently when I met with their class to talk about writing and reading. The students had read Pack of Dorks as a classroom read-aloud and several of them went on to read A Blind Guide to Stinkville on their own.

The grin on my face had to look ridiculous as I tried to figure out how to answer this question. Did Lucy, my snarky and loyal protagonist in Pack of Dorks, know quiet and brave Alice from A Blind Guide to Stinkville?

Luckily another student piped in. “There is no way they’d like each other, if they have met. Alice is way too mature for Lucy.”

“But Alice and Sam would get along,” replied the first student, mentioning Lucy’s best friend.

“Actually,” I said, and there really is no word to describe the thrill pulsating through me at that moment. “Sam and Alice are cousins.”

“What?” they said together, minds blown.

I nodded. “Look for clues in Camp Dork.”

As an author, that was the best conversation ever, one that’s making me grin like a scary clown as I write about it now. These readers weren’t asking if Alice and Lucy would meet in further books. They wanted to know if they knew each other now, in the land fictional characters live when we close our books. To them, Lucy and Alice aren’t personas I created. They’re real.

I see the same thing in my son when he talks about his current literary obsession—Harry Potter. “I wish he’d be a little more careful with his Invisibility Cloak,” he mused as I put him to bed. “It makes me nervous that he just leaves it lying around.”

Ask my son anything about Harry Potter, and he can immediately give you the answer. What’s in his pocket? “A golden snitch.” What’s on his bedroom floor? “Chocolate Frog wrappers.” What’s his biggest fear? “Dementors.”

This ability to talk about characters with the same conviction and intimate understanding we would use to describe as our friends happens because of one thing: Voice.

When a character has a distinctive and authentic voice, not only do the stories become alive, so do the characters.

Finding that voice is the hardest aspect of writing for me. Even writing the dreaded synopsis is easier than this essential step.

It’s tricky because it feels like I’m not working. It feels—and looks like—a lot of staring into space, eating candy and drinking coffee. But really, I’m thinking of my characters, trying to unravel what makes them meaningful, how they view the world, what makes them unique.

Assigning them quirks is easy. Making those quirks meaningful and capable of moving forward characters’ stories is tough.

A Blind Guide to Normal (releasing in October) tells the story of Ryder Raymond, a fourteen-year-old boy who always has a pun or a joke at the ready. The reason for this is pretty obvious: He wants to make you laugh before you can laugh at him.

But sometimes, as an author, I’m the only one who understands a character’s quirks. Take for example Sheldon in the Pack of Dorks series. He is completely obsessed with dinosaurs. He wears shirts with iron-on dinosaurs and shoelaces with dino prints. Every conversation with Sheldon will eventually go back to dinosaurs. I haven’t yet shared in the series why Sheldon is obsessed—how when he was a toddler, he and his dad used to go for walks looking for tracks and spend hours playing with toy dinosaurs. I haven’t mentioned that Sheldon’s dad isn’t part of his life any more, but the dinosaurs still are. But I know that, and it helps me move Sheldon through the series.

When I’m to the point where I can talk about my characters the way those students did Lucy and Alice—putting them in new situations and seeing how they’d respond—only then am I able to write their stories.

And it’s only when I see that these characters have blossomed to life for readers, too, that I know all that space-staring potato-chip-eating coffee-drinking was time well spent.

Young writers who are just beginning to tap into their own ability to story tell might benefit from continuing the stories of characters they already know and love.

I remember doing this myself when I was in middle school.  Winnie Foster went on to have many more adventures in my mind after finishing Tuck Everlasting. I told myself stories about her growing older, times when she would run to the stream and debate drinking from it. Times that she was so glad she never had.

Another classroom I visited offered up another pinch-me moment as an author. The students told me they loved to play Pack of Dorks at recess, taking turns being Lucy, Sam and the rest of the gang. The character most coveted was Lucy’s baby sister Molly.

The teacher told me she encourages them to put these new adventures on paper during classroom free writing time. What an incredible idea!

Young writers given the freedom to continue their favorite characters’ stories will no doubt give them the confidence to tap into their own storytelling, find their own voice.

“I still think Lucy and Alice should meet,” the student told me as our classroom discussion ended. “It’d be a good story.”

“I think so, too,” I told her. “And you should write it.”

Camp Dork

About the Book: 

Lucy and her pack are back, in this sequel to Beth Vrabel’s heartwarming and humorous debut, Pack of Dorks. Sheldon convinces Lucy, Sam, April, and Amanda to join him at a weeklong sleep-away summer camp—Camp Paleo: Live Like a Caveman. Like cavemen, they’re going to have to make do without air conditioning or a heated pool. They’ll learn archery and dig for fossils. And Grandma’s coming too; she’s taking a job as lunch lady for the camp next door.

At the last minute, Sam backs out to go to a gymnastics training camp instead. Lucy wonders why she misses him so much—it’s not like he’s her boyfriend or anything. Why does the word “boyfriend” make her blush, even when she’s only thinking it? She needs a distraction. Enter Mr. Bosserman, the grouchy camp leader who won’t budge on the caveman aspect of the camp. The old man needs some softening up, and Lucy knows just the person for the job: Grandma.

One successful match made, Lucy starts to see potential lovebirds everywhere. And setting up couples keeps her from facing the question tickling the back of her mind: Is she in love with Sam? But when the wrong campers fall for each other, the pack falls apart, all under the watchful eye of a super secret blogger who’s been writing about the camp’s activities Gossip Girl–style. Even worse? A thief is targeting everyone but Lucy, setting her up to look guilty. Soon Lucy again finds herself alone, left to fix the messes she’s made and face her own feelings. If she fails, the pack may be splintered for good.

For readers aged 8 to 12, this is a funny but poignant book about bullying, crushes, the harmful nature of rumors, and the importance of friendship and telling the truth. A great book to read aloud in the classroom for discussions or to simply read on a summer trip.

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25898670-pack-of-dorks

Giveaway!:

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About the Author: Beth Vrabel grew up in a small town in Pennsylvania. She won a short-story contest in fourth grade and promptly decided writing was what she was going to do with her life. Although her other plans–becoming a Yellowstone National Park ranger, and a professional roller skater–didn’t come to fruition, she stuck with the writing. Beth’s backround is journalism and was editor of two regional magazines and a lifestyle columnist. Beth now writes full time.

Her books include Pack of Dorks series and A Blind Guide to Stinkville (Sky Pony Press). Her latest release, Camp Dork, hit bookstores in May.

A Blind Guide to Normal releases in October.

Author Links:

Website: www.bethvrabel.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorBethVrabel/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/beth_vrabel

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7710163.Beth_Vrabel

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorbethvrabel/

Thank you to Beth for this post. We hope our readers enjoyed her conversation with these students as much as we did! We’ve been fortunate to feature Beth on the blog before. Please check out her other guest post, “My Son’s Teacher’s Approach to Reading.“

Thank you to Lisa at Tasty Book PR for connecting us with Beth!

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“Possible Impossibilities: Magic and the Middle-Grade Reader”

When my son, Theo, was about to turn four, I asked him what he wanted for his birthday. His answer was simple, only one thing: Hogwarts Castle. “A mini tree-fort version?” I suggested hopefully. Nope, he wanted the whole thing, old stones, talking portraits, moving staircases, the whole shebang, to be built in our backyard. “Or a Batcave,” he relented, seeing my expression. “If you can’t do Hogwarts, I’ll take a Batcave.”

If little kids have one super power it’s that power to believe random, wacko stuff is totally possible. And why not? Those kind of things are happening all the time in their worlds: steam suddenly whistling out the spout of a kettle, crusty old seeds pushing up pale green sprouts through the dirt, clear light through faceted glass turning into rainbows. I remember clearly when I was four, hammering metal coffee cans and other bits of debris to an old flat piece of plywood to make a boat I would sail across Lake Ontario. My dad, who was sorting the laundry nearby, never told me that was not going to happen. To this day, I think that was one of the best gifts he ever gave me.

Too often, well-meaning adults rush in to help children develop a sense of perspective, an understanding of what is realistic, sealing up the cracks between the world of imagination and the more reliable, tried and true “reality.” The instinct generally comes from a good place. To protect from disappointment. To make sure the child is investing his or her precious hopes and dreams in something that might actually, in a million years, have some chance of ever happening.

“If only he would ask for something we could actually give him,” I remember bemoaning to Theo’s dad after Theo finished showing us the impossibly grandiose Batcave blueprints he had found in the back of one of his Batman books. Then I thought about my boat. About that sense of possibility. I took a deep breath. “This is too big a job for us,” I admitted to Theo. “But how would you do it?” Theo was disappointed in us. But eventually he took a shovel, went out behind the house and started to dig. His friends came over later in the week and they dug as well. And the digging has gone on sporadically from then—for about nine years now. At first it might have been about the bat cave, but as the digging went on it became about something else: about the undefined, mysterious possibilities of the hole itself. Something way better than anything we, his parents, could have cobbled together for him.

By the time kids get to the middle grades, the concept “real” becomes very important. “Is that real gold?” “That is sooooo fake!” At the same time, this age is also the sweet spot for the greatest magical literature ever written: Harry Potter; The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe; The Hobbit; The Dark Also Rises. The other day, my ten-year-old, Nicholas (one of the biggest realists I know), told me that all his favorite books have some kind of magic or fantasy in them. Hardly seems a coincidence. As the concepts of reality become more practically defined and potentially limiting, fantasy allows middle-graders to keep the doors and windows open into other possibilities.

Possibilities is the key word. When your nose is stuck between the covers of a great fantasy book, it’s not because you’re so caught up with bunch of stuff that could never happen. It’s because you’ve entered a place where the outrageous and fantastical does happen and you can’t wait to see what’s going to happen next. And sometimes what happens next is someone comes along and lifts one of these possible impossibilities off the page and turns it into a reality. The Internet search engine, for example, appeared in Douglas Adam’s Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy long before the real version was created. Sci-fi author, Jules Verne, landed the first rocket ship on the moon in remarkably accurate detail in his novel From the Earth to the Moon over a century before the first real lunar landing occurred. Sometimes what looks like wall between fantasy and reality is actually a door.

These doorway-moments, these meeting points of the real and the fantastical, are essential in middle-grade fantasy. Sometimes these doorways are quite literal. Harry Potter’s first arrival at Platform 9 ¾. Lucy walking through the wardrobe into Narnia. Other times the doorways come through characters that are so powerfully human it’s impossible not to relate to them, even if they are a different species from a totally different place and time. For example, Bilbo Baggins, the furry-footed hobbit who longs for adventure but is so attached to domestic comforts he almost abandons his great adventure when he discovers he has left his handkerchiefs at home.

When writing my middle grade novel, Balthazar Fabuloso in the Lair of the Humbugs, the first doorway I discovered was through Balthazar’s family’s stage magic. When picking up a new bit of magic, they start by figuring out how to fake it, palming a coin to make it look like it disappeared, hiding a dove up a sleeve, etc. Only after they’ve mastered the illusion so fully it becomes second nature does the trick part fall away and the magic become real.

Some of my favorite doorway–moments as a writer come when magic doesn’t work out the way anyone planned. Unpaid bills that are folded into magical origami animals and sent flying away but wind up coming home again to demand payment. An invisibility charm that only works for as long as long as you hold your breath. Magic that is great for levitating sofas and turning puffs of smoke into baby turtles, but is totally useless for eliminating dry-rot or paying down credit card bills. In other words, magic that acts like life: messy and unpredictable, but kind of amazing at the same time.

Can magic help Balthazar get his family back after they mysteriously vanish in a sinister stage accident? Possibly, but first Balthazar must find his own magic, a journey which leads him down a rabbit hole of family secrets, unexpected friendships, surprise betrayals, sinister cliques and a few other twists and turns. A journey that is about messing up, figuring stuff out, banging into walls, overcoming limitations, and, ultimately, about making the impossible possible, although not quite in the way anyone had planned.

One of my favorite games to play on hikes and long road trips is the “what if” game. What if this forest was actually our home? What if the raindrops on the windshield all had personalities? What if that red car behind us is an evil road wizard hot on our trail? What if we could open the plane door and walk out onto the clouds? It’s all about finding the doorways, then seeing where they lead, the more unexpected the better. Sometimes they lead to a story or a sketch. Other times to complete absurdity. But they always lead somewhere. Which is why magical literature is so important to middle-graders. Not simply because of the magic itself, but because of the possibilities it opens up, possibilities which can lead anywhere.

Balthazar Fabuloso in the Lair of Humbugs

About the Book: Magic, humor and high adventure are used to reaffirm fundamental family values in this debut novel.|

Balthazar Fabuloso’s lovable and eccentric family performs a magic show. What makes the act so unusual is that all the Fabulosos actually have superhuman powers, except for Balthazar, a practical-minded 11-year-old who simply aspires to be a normal kid. So when everyone but Balthazar disappears mid performance, the only Fabuloso without real magical skills must save the family. Balthazar wonders if the family’s archrivals, the Furious Fistulas, are to blame or if there are other, even darker forces at work. To free his loved ones Balthazar must work with some questionable characters, including a lunatic long-lost uncle, three enigmatic senior citizens and the loathsome Pagan Fistula, whose family also mysteriously goes missing.

At the center of these disappearances is a force so evil that the world’s most preeminent magicians cower before it. What hope could a ragtag crew of misfits have against it?

Link to the Book: http://www.holidayhouse.com/title_display.php?ISBN=9780823435777

About the Author: I. J. Brindle is an author and screenwriter. She has also produced internet games for Disney, written and directed theater in New York and Montreal, clerked in a bookstore, waited tables, and had a bunch of other adventures along the road. She is the mother of two wild monkey children and the companion of a dog named Moose.

Check Out the Other Books on the Tour:

Thank you to I. J. for this important post. We hope our readers enjoyed her words as much as we did!

Thank you to Brittany at Holiday House for connecting us with I. J.!

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“The Star Wars Effect: Bringing Teens to Space”

When I wrote the first draft of Beyond the Red back in the summer of 2014, I didn’t dare to imagine that non-dystopian Sci-Fi would become a Big Thing in YA. I hoped, of course, alongside every other YA Sci-Fi writer, but the truth was it hadn’t happened, not really. And with Dystopian novels taking the spotlight front and center, many were already predicting a downturn in YA Sci-Fi once readers got tired of dystopic Sci-Fi worlds.

I knew all that, but I wrote Beyond the Red anyway. It was the book I wanted to read, but wasn’t already out there—it was aliens, and monarchies, and clashing cultures, and endless crimson sands in a faraway world outside our solar system, but within our universe. It was a place where Earth was a legend, even to the humans whose ancestors emigrated from there. It was, ultimately, the book I wanted for myself, so I ignored the trends altogether and when people whispered that YA Sci-Fi was a hard sell, I shrugged and kept writing.

Everything is a hard sell, I reasoned. I’m going to write this book for me. 

So I did. And eventually I got an agent, and my agent said those words to me—YA Sci-Fi is a hard sell—but she also said, I love this book and I’m going to do my best. 

We went on submission. Heard the book was “too Sci-Fi” in rejections. Kept submitting anyway. And celebrated when it sold.

Even months after it sold, my YA Sci-Fi writer friends told me their stories—how their books weren’t selling, how YA Sci-Fi was so hard to move. Of the new sale announcements, YA Sci-Fi were in the minority—a couple here, a handful there in a sea of incredible-sounding Fantasy stories. Pirates and time-travel were in. Sci-fi was…there. Floating. Barely.

And then Star Wars: The Force Awakens was announced. And then Divergent mega-author Veronica Roth announced her next book: a Star Wars-ish Sci-Fi YA due in 2017. And then super Sci-Fi-ish Illuminae by Amie Kaufman and Jay Asher became a big YA buzz book. And then Star Wars: The Force Awakened sold a bajillion tickets and basically blew everyone’s expectations out of the water.

YA Sci-Fi isn’t a Big Thing—not yet—but with the massive success of Star Wars, and a super huge author writing a Star Wars-like YA, it’s not hard to imagine that we’ll see more teens in space over the next couple years. Readers who watch Star Wars are walking away and craving that same kind of adventure in a book. They want aliens, and extrasolar planets, and advanced technology, and complicated, alien politics. They want characters who have grown up in a technological world far away from our own—they want space travel, and vivid settings that remind them of that movie theater experience.

YA Sci-Fi authors like myself, who never could have predicted the existence of another movie in a galaxy far, far away, had no idea that we were actually writing our spacey books at exactly the right time. We had no idea that teens in space would be exactly what readers would be looking for after getting their movie fix. But despite the uncertainty, the books we wrote for us—the books we were told would be too hard to sell—have now become exactly the stories that Star Wars-loving readers are asking for.

Sometimes when the book idea of your dreams comes knocking at what seems like the wrong time, the timing is more right than you ever could have known.

Beyond the Red
Author: Ava Jae
Published March 1st, 2016 by Sky Pony Press

Goodreads Summary: Alien queen Kora has a problem as vast as the endless crimson deserts. She’s the first female ruler of her territory in generations, but her people are rioting and call for her violent younger twin brother to take the throne. Despite assassination attempts, a mounting uprising of nomadic human rebels, and pressure to find a mate to help her rule, she’s determined to protect her people from her brother’s would-be tyrannical rule.

Eros is a rebel soldier hated by aliens and human alike for being a half-blood. Yet that doesn’t stop him from defending his people, at least until Kora’s soldiers raze his camp and take him captive. He’s given an ultimatum: be an enslaved bodyguard to Kora, or be executed for his true identity—a secret kept even from him.

When Kora and Eros are framed for the attempted assassination of her betrothed, they flee. Their only chance of survival is to turn themselves in to the high court, where revealing Eros’s secret could mean a swift public execution. But when they uncover a violent plot to end the human insurgency, they must find a way to work together to prevent genocide.

About the Author: Ava Jae is an author, blogger, YouTuber, college student, and assistant editor at Entangled Publishing. After graduating from the University of Michigan with a BA in English in April 2016, Ava will probably find a bookstore to live in, where she can write her next novel surrounded by the smell of new books and coffee. She can be found on Twitter at @Ava_Jae or at her website avajae.blogspot.com. She resides in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

Thank you to Ava for her fun guest post!

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**Thank you to Cheryl at Skyhorse Publishing for setting up this post!**