Sara Ryan

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?

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.

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.

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!

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.)

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.)

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?

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.

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.

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.