Random Bit #1

From the Inbox page of the 6/29 issue of TIME, in reference to the magazine's recent cover story on Twitter:

"The overblown coverage of Twitter in the media has grown tiresome. Steven Johnson reports that Twitter had 17.1 million visitors internationally in April, but with the U.S. population at more than 300 million, the percentage of users that are American is pretty small. Furthermore, according to Neilson, 60% of all users drop out after a month. 'Once just a fad'? Sounds like it's still a relatively small and concentrated fad. Members of the media never grasp that they are not representative of the country as a whole." - Barb Neff, Santa Monica, Calif.

This is pretty much me. I tweeted in, stayed active for about six weeks, dropped out. It took too much time to read through everyone's tweets, think of interesting things to tweet about, respond to other people's far more interesting tweets, and and respond to people who responded to my often inane ones. Of course, I left Twitter before the latest celebrity invasion, which I probably would've found amusing/addictive in the same way that I find myself actually Googling things like "what will happen now that Lauren has left THE HILLS?" and "Stephanie Pratt bulimia" and "Are Whitney and Jay back together?" Which leads me to ...

Random Bit #2

From the Books page of the 6/26-7/3 issue of ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY, in an article titled "When Stars Write Novels":

"Is there nothing LC can't do? Well, uh, yes. Write a 'novel.' Authos need to be judged as writers, not as mutltasking buzz generators .... Publishers these days are laying off staff and cutting the number of titles on their lists; the book business is suffering along with everyone else, and there's little room to gamble on an untried writer, however exciting that new voice. Yet with one eye on marketing opportuntites and the other on TV ratings, these same publishers have given the okay to a larky novice who'd be the first to admit that she just thought authoring might be, you know, cool." - Lisa Schwarzbaum

Two things: One, this is exactly why, despite my morbid curiosity about LA CANDY, and the obvious ghostwriter hired to pen LC's thinly-veiled "fiction," I refuse to pay a penny toward actuallly reading it. There will be enough HILLS-obsessed teens lining up to fork over their (or their parents') hard-earned money, which will only affirm Harper Collins's prediction that this book will be an enormous blockbuster. The underlying message? "Sales dollars trump quality any day" - which is already a huge beef I have with YA currently.

Second, despite a ton of press about Conrad's decision to enter the YA market, few have addressed the fact that it was the publisher who approached HER and not vice-versa. On a recent interview she gave to the ladies of THE VIEW (you know, the one where she admits that Spencer never actually apologized to her - that they filmed his half with her NOT on the other line, thereby confirming suspicions that the "reality show" is heavily scripted), Conrad was asked by a visibly disgusted Whoopie Goldberg why she bothered to write this book. Conrad wiggles for a minute, saying that she'd thought about becoming an author and at first had pitched the idea of a dating book (though anyone who watched her disastrous relationship with cokehead Jason on TV would wonder why LC ever thought - for even a second - that she had valuable advice in the romance department) before switching over to wanting to write something fashion related. Then, she says, her publisher approached her with this idea. (I'd figured this all along; I've heard of YA editors courting certain celebrities whose names would guarantee sales, though when it's someone like Margartet Cho, who actually CAN write, I'm less disgusted by the practice. In fact, I've been disappointed that Cho's entrance into the YA genre has yet to materialize, because when I read about the sale on Publisher's Lunch, and later asked the editor who signed her about the decision, I was seriously excited. Cho writing about adolescence? Yeah, that's something I would have to read.)

The appeal, as Conrad tells it, is that the YA novel gave her an opportunity to explore the side of THE HILLS that the public never gets to see. Critics have often wondered by MTV chooses to shoot the show as if LC and her crew of super-thin, super-cute, super-shallow friends AREN'T super famous; apparently, Conrad shares this frustration. In that same VIEW spot, she talks about how there'd be times when they'd be filming and she'd sneak off to "video village" to hang out with the directors/producers, fascinated more by their process than the carefully edited version of her life that's run since she was a teen. Producing, she says, is one of her ultimate goals; fashion, it appears, is just a pit stop on her way to mogul-hood. Tyra Banks would be so proud.

Not-Quite-as-Random Bit #3

The current state of the YA book biz is something I've been chewing over a lot lately, for a myriad of reasons. Like the fact that despite knowing I should be shooting for commercial fiction with the kind of sexy slant that sells (a la my Lola Dougals books), the truth is, writing something with a prescribed format doesn't interest me at all. Morgan Carter's story, as told in the two STARLET books, was something I dreamed up on my own, and it just happened to have high commercial appeal - not something I crafted to be commercial in the first place. There are dozens of authors who I admire who've become huge successes not by writing flash-in-the-pan, semi-disposable novels, but by culling massive reader audiences the old-fashioned way: through strong writing, patience, and perserverance (see, for instance, the career of Sarah Dessen).

Also, I've been wrapped up in a professional editing job for an accomplished non-fiction author whose first foray into young adult fiction has amazing potential, but has struggled to sell. The thing is, her book, too, sprung from a personal passion but also has that sexy commercial appeal that publishers pant over. So I've had to puzzle over why the book's had trouble finding a home, despite the author's kick-ass idea and impeccable pedigree. My guess is that at one point, before sales dollars trumped everything else, an editor would've taken on the project immediately and helped the author develop her vision. In this market, my first novel, BRINGING UP THE BONES, wouldn't have made it to the contract stage - it needed too much work between the draft I submitted and the one that got published. But back in 2001, when I was named the honor winner in the Delacorte and offered a deal, editors still had the time, energy, and freedom to take on flawed projects such as mine - ones that didn't have the potential to blow up like TWILIGHT. This just isn't the case any more.

Yesterday I traveled down to Dover, to talk to my friend Peggy Dilner's current crop of YA lit students, most of whom are pursuing certifications to become school media specialists. When Peggy first started inviting me to talk to her classes, it was more about being a YA author from Delaware, which was a novelty then (we now have several other YA'ers we can boast, including but not limited to Tony Varrato). Now she asks me to speak to them about my persepective on the industry as an author, and the changes I've seen take place between BONES' publication and STELLA's upcoming one. It's not sour grapes on my part when I tell them how drastically different things have become; when CONTENTS came out in 2004, all YA novels pub'd by mainstream houses were guaranteed review space in every major journal. Just 18 months later, when ANYONE BUT YOU debuted, this was no longer the case. The market had become so glutted that an author had to feel grateful when they were awarded space in a review journal, even if that review was mixed. (Of course, here I'm talking about B-list authors like myself, and not people like John Green or Laurie Halse Anderson, who are superstars and don't need to worry so miuch about whether or not they'll be reviewed as much as if their latest offering meets the high expectations set by earlier best-sellers they've delivered.)

Peggy's heard me speak about my career path and my mixed feelings about the industry for several years now. Last night she got to see a more bubbly side, because right now I'm feeling good about STELLA's general reception, this editing project (which has been so much fun, despite the quick turnaround), and my career in general. I joked to her students that I've declared on more than one occasion I was hanging up my keyboard and done with being an author forever. This week? I'm not feeling "over." I'm feeling inspired to dive into my current WIP, a passion project that's been nibbling at me for six years now. It's good to be in this place again - wanting to write, instead of feeling like I have to, and being more concerned again with telling a great story than whether or not my publishers will be pleased with my market-directed sensibilities. If, for example, this current WIP should fail to find a home (and at the risk of sound cocky, which if you know me in real life, you know is not who I am at all - I have no doubt it WILL find a home), I'd be okay with it. Because I'd have written it for all of the right reasons, instead of the wrong ones that lead me down this bitter, jaded path to begin with.

[I'm far too tired to do all of the hyperlinking I should do here, or even proofread what I've written, so I think I'm going to just wrap up now and hit the sheets until my 11 a.m. conference call with the aforementioned kick-ass writer I'm working with. Please excuse the lack of linkage and the possibility of typos; I've had six hours of sleep in the past three days and I'm about ready to fall over.]