My Missing Piece

Or, what I learned about YA from my big sister.

I’ve been giving some thought to why I write YA literature. The simplest answer is one I got from Andrew Karre at a conference. Basically, in writing, teenagers are the easiest to get into trouble. You barely breathe on teenage character and oopsie they’re in trouble. There are barrels problems out there to write about–an endless supply. But I’ve never been fully satisfied when I answer the question that way. Because it doesn’t answer what it is about teenagers that tugs at me and makes me care. I think Shel Silverstein illustrated it best.  Have you read The Missing Piece and The Missing Piece Meets the Big O? Amy, my sister, asked for those books one year  for Christmas when we were teenagers. So I got them for her. And I was all excited because I was going to write in the card something exactly like “You’re my missing piece.” That’s how I rolled. But then I read the books.

I was like, crap, that’s not what these books are about. Amy said it best: “We’re not looking for our missing piece. We’re looking to shape our hard edges until we see the whole person.” And I was like, wow. It was so much of how I felt as a teenager. And that is much of what I’m trying to do with my characters that I write. It seems to me that teenagers have all the stuff inside them that adults do, they just aren’t rounded out. I’m pretty positive we never reach perfect circleness, but all that stuff inside is what interesting people are made of. That struggle to round ourselves out in our teenage years, to me, is a lovely thing.

Spoiler Alert: I’m Going To Swear

When you look at this picture, do you think of that pet as shitting or pooping? (Also, is it a dog or a cat?) Seriously, I want to know (both) in the comments. And why do you think you associate that particular word with the picture? Does it have anything to do with context? Like that animal (and presumably the owner) are being disgraceful so therefore it’s shitting. Or, maybe you see this and your manners kick in. This is what we must NOT do: defecate on the sidewalk, sweet princess. (Seriously though, that pet’s name isn’t princess. [It’s probably Uncle Xenic]) Or maybe the word you think of has nothing to do with context. Is it just how you’ve been taught to describe the act? Or does your mood dictate what word comes to mind?

I don’t usually go to Twitter chats because I have a hard time keeping up and usually don’t know anyone there, which is maybe a strange reason not to participate, but whatever. Well, last night at the #kidlit chat, the topic was Grammar…and (usage?) I forget, and so did everyone else because it became this talk about swearing and derogatory terms.”Penis Wrinkle” kept showing up in posts–totally mature we YA writers are. Also a bunch of this sort of thing: #$@&!

Anyway, something that has always confused me is how writers cuss, or sort of don’t cuss, especially on blogs and in settings that are not published books, etc. I have no problem swearing  (in books or in my day-to-day language), which you probably have picked up on from my posts regarding treadmills and talent shows. Here’s why: I’m a little bit dramatic. Cursing suits my style. And I get it that some people just aren’t cussers. But those of you caught in the middle, what gives?  I just don’t get why “sh!t” is somehow less offensive than “shit.” Seriously, when you see “sh!t,” don’t you still read it “shit?” It’s like farting: the quiet ones are still offensive. And, “#$@&!” just makes me pause and run through every swear with four letters until I find the one I hope the author the intends. (Or make a weird sound effect in my head that’s more goofy than cuss-y) I guess I just find it strange that writers are at odds with expressing themselves in this way.

And I can’t resist, so here it is. Summation: Shit or get off the pot.

Self-Deprecating Sunday (17) Brodi Ashton

Which treats of YA  authors sharing the Great and Awkward of their teenage years.

Today I’m delighted to have another guest post! Last week we saw C. J. Omololu, goth-girl pioneer, on the cusp of becoming a bass guitarist. Sort of. This week I give you the sweet and sassy Brodi Ashton. She is a fellow Upstart Crow, and Ted person. Her blog is a must-read–so funny–and surely gives a taste of the wit in her books, which are paranormal YA. And speaking of paranormal….

Here’s what Brodi has to say about getting ready for a dance her sophomore year:

Mama always told me, “Brodi, honey, if you wanna catch yourself a great man, you gotta make a great entrance.” Just kidding. She never said anything like that. But that’s what this picture makes me think.

Here, my friend Cherie (in the black) and I are practicing our graceful “walk down the stairs” and nothing says class at these moments like a chandelier with plastic garland hanging off of it.  As for my hair, lemme explain.

In my day:

  1. You could never have enough bangs.
  2. If your bangs could move of their own volition, you didn’t put enough hairspray on them.
  3. Puffy sleeves were in. I swear!

Up close, you can see the detail on my Victorian Frock. I can imagine my mom seeing it in the store, and thinking to herself, “With that neck so high and tight, and that hem that hits her ankles, it’s practically it’s own chastity belt. No boy will want her after this.”

In case you’re curious, yes, I did peg my hems. I could peg anything in those days.

Frankly, Brodi, I’m glad our moms didn’t shop together. However, I think we shared the same hairspray fairy back then. And, despite all this, you are still cute as a button. Thanks so much for participating this Sunday! (I will see you on the Scrabble board, lady.)

And remember, if you are a YA author and want to do a guest post here at Sparks and Butterflies (And how could you not?), please contact me at jody.mugele(at)gmail.com. It’s more fun than church.

“Talent” Night

Does the title give me away? Or possibly my rant over on Facebook? Apparently, I’m not done ranting because I’m blogging about it now.

Chelsea is a small town. There aren’t THAT many kids in Eleanor’s school, yet there are 41 acts in the “Talent” Show? It was only 5th and 6th graders, too, not the whole conglomerate of elementary schools. So here’s the thing: I get it. It’s great for kiddos to get up on that stage and work out their confidence issues. It’s good for them to see each other perform. It’s nice for them to work together. And it’s a (marginally) good idea for getting the community together so we can all sing the national anthem and pat ourselves on the back and say here we are and here are our kids. But all of those things combined still don’t make it worth it. I could stand twenty acts at less than 2 minutes apiece. But what I’d love to see–what I’d actually enjoy–(and what I think would actually benefit the kids) is about 10 – 12 (of the best) acts at about 5 minutes apiece.

I’ve blogged before on the importance of kids hearing no. So, I’ll refrain from repetition, but what about talent?

I remember one thing about the talent show my fifth grade year. Ali Wood. She played the piano–the Entertainer. I was blown away. I wanted to be her so bad in that moment. I wanted to be great at something and make other people feel the WOW that I was feeling. Not with a piano, but the inspiration hit me hard. THAT was talent. She had worked hard at learning that; there was no doubt in my mind. And it was beautiful. I wonder if the kids in that audience last night even had the chance to feel that. I was bored before I got there. Our school is even getting away from calling the thing a talent show. I think this year the program said “Variety” Show. (Maybe it has been that all along I’ve been suffering from wishful thinking, I’m not sure) Variety Show is a more truthful term, but a more pathetic one. Who cares about variety? Seriously. Talent is worth my time and my kids’ time. Variety is bullshit.

Nnick-Knack Paddy-Whack

My sister actually reminded me of this story in the comments of a post a couple weeks ago. I’ll get to it in just a second but I don’t think I’ve blogged about how inspiring it is to have kids. They really do the funniest stuff, and in many ways, Eleanor and Magnolia have inspired my writing. I also hope that beyond being entertaining, having some of our family stories on this blog will be a consolation prize for all those photos I never took and scrapbooks I never made. They’re totally gonna love reading this later, right? It won’t be at all embarrassing? So anyway–

Eleanor was in Kindergarten or first grade. (My memory sucks.) And she got the forgetful genes in the family–my side, I’m pretty sure. I’m not sure if this was before or after the bout with the gym shoes. But, it seemed like every day she was coming home without something. Our two-week Michigan Fall was long gone and the snow was falling. Big Snow. We had no matching gloves. I’d knit more hats than I could count. What was going on?

I happened to be home one day when I heard the bell chime down at the elementary school, signaling the end of the day. I went to the window to watch her walk home. She was dutifully piled up in her snow gear, backpack heavy on her back, but still a happy little thing. She waved to the crossing guard and the never-ending mom in me hoped she remembered to say thank you. As soon as she was across, she looked down the home-stretch (about half a block), threw herself joyfully into the snow, and log-rolled all the way home. Gloves and hat flew off. So did a boot. I imagined everything in her pack was crushed. I cracked up.

When she was through the door, caked in snow, I asked how her day was.

“Great!”

“Did you lose a few things, like your boot?”

She looked down. “Oh.”

“How did that happen?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think I might know.” I led her to the window and showed her the trail she’d left behind her.

She laughed. “Oh, yeah.”

Self-Deprecating Sunday (16) C. J. Omololu

Which delights in YA authors sharing the great and awkward of being a teenager.

Today I invited YA author C. J. Omololu to share what she was like as a teenager. Her book Dirty Little Secrets debuted this month from Walker Books for Young Readers. It’s getting some great reviews. I ordered it immediately and cannot wait to read it.

From the author:

See that girl there? That’s the summer of 1984 in San Diego. See her rockin’ on that bass? She bought that bass from the pawn shop herself with the money she earned at the café where she was slinging cappuccino’s way before Starbucks dominated every street corner. Is she rehearsing for an upcoming show? What do you think she’s playing?

Even though this photo was taken a few years ago (ahem) I know exactly what I’m playing. Nothing. Couldn’t play a note. I wanted desperately to be in a band, except I skipped the vital step of ever learning how to play any kind of instrument. Not being able to fulfill my own musical dreams, I did the next best thing – I dated guys in all the other bands. Oh, to do it over again!

A million thanks to C. J. Omololu! (I would like to please borrow that t-shirt.) And remember, if you’re a YA author and would like to do a guest post here on Self-Deprecating Sunday, please contact me jody.mugele(at)gmail.com. It’s more fun than Church.

Stories From Those Who Serve (4)

In case you’re new to the blog, I started a series of interviews with soldiers after writing a YA novel about a girl who goes through ROTC in high school and joins the Navy. In my research, I found so many fascinating stories, that I wanted to begin sharing them. Or maybe more accurately, I wanted to share these people. I met Tracie in college, but didn’t realize she’d joined the military until we’d reconnected on Facebook and after I was done with my book research. Man, do I wish I’d had her for a resource during my writing. Here are her answers to my interview questions.

Jody: Please tell us what branch you were in and why you chose it. Why the military?

Tracie: I am in the Tennessee Army National Guard. The main reason why I choose this branch of service was because I wanted a way to further my education after graduating college and it was one weekend a month, two weeks in the summer. I felt it would fit better with my goals rather than going active duty. I was led to choose the military mostly because I have always wanted to serve in some capacity since High School. I don’t believe I was meant to join straight out of High School. I was lead to Milligan College first.

Jody: Enlisted or Officer? Explain your job.

Tracie: I served 13 years Enlisted working up the ranks from (E-4 to E-7 [as an acting 1SG (E-8)]). I was a combat medic during those years. On 18 March 2009 I was commissioned as a 70B Medical Service Corps Officer. Currently my job is a Medical Platoon Leader. I would normally have approx. 60 soldiers that would work for me in a Treatment Medical Clinic.

Jody: When and how long were/are you active?

Tracie: I joined the National Guard in 1997…and I am currently still in the service.

Jody: What was the hardest part of boot camp? The best part?

Tracie: I joined when I was 24 years about 1 year after I graduated college. The hardest part of boot camp was going when I was older. I was with 17 and 18 year olds; most of them just out of High School; most of them immature. Of course, the military believes that if one soldier screws up everyone pays. I hated that part. The best part was finishing…I wasn’t sure what to expect…you always hear of war stories…and how bad things are…and it really wasn’t that bad.

Jody: Do you have any funny stories from your military experience that you can share?

Tracie: There are a lot of stories. Not so sure about funny. One that sticks out in my memory is one from the last deployment. We were working at the Treatment Medical Center one evening. Some Iraqi’s brought a dead friend to seek medical attention. Of course we could not treat him…because he was dead. So the Iraqi’s shoved the friend into the trunk and when his arm would not bend they shoved it in breaking it…and drove away. Again, not funny…but there is a lot of insight into their culture and the way they think.

Jody: Have you experienced combat?

Tracie: Yes. I was deployed to Iraq OIF III from 2004-2005. We are getting ready to deploy again to Iraq 2010-2011. ((I did this interview with Tracie in January; she is now currently serving in Iraq.))

Jody: How many places have you lived and which has been your favorite?

Tracie: Since I am in the Tennessee Army National Guard…I have not moved except once. I lived in the Tri-Cities since I moved to Tennessee in 1989…and when I returned from the 1st deployment I moved to Knoxville, TN where I am currently residing.

Jody: How do you think being a female made your experience in the military unique? Were there special challenges you faced because of it?

Tracie: Being a female in the military is unique due to the fact that there are not a lot of females in the military compared to males. For example (of course not real numbers but only as an example): Out of 860 soldiers 47 might be officers and 1 of them might be female. Out of the same 860 soldiers 813 then would be enlisted and maybe only 38 might be female. Sometimes this does make it challenging. There are days that you (meaning females) are treated just like “one of the guys” and there are other days that you (meaning females) are treated differently. I know that there are times I have felt like I have had to work harder to prove myself to others. But mostly I do feel honored to be among the few that have chosen this career path to work along with what I would call Hero’s.

Jody: How has serving in the military changed you the most?

Tracie: It is humbling. Knowing what kind of sacrifice that soldier’s give…some more than others…but all in their own ways. It has also opened my eyes about other countries. We are so blessed in the United States. Even the poorest people in the United States have it better than those in the third world countries. The United States as good as it tries to be…is filled with such selfishness. Sometimes it is sickening to see the degree to which this is true.

Jody: Is there anything else you want us to know about military life or service?

Tracie: The biggest thing I would like for people to know is this: Don’t always believe what you see on T.V.

I am not saying that I want to go back…but there is some good that is coming out of this. I would rather go there knowing that my family and friends are safe at home then not go back to Iraq and have more incidents like 9-11.

People need to realize that we the American public will never know the whole story…nor should they know the story until it is SAFE to tell the story. People get to wrapped up in the fact that they feel it is there RIGHT to know…but fail to realize that they are putting others lives at stake by having events and things being reported before it should be. Very frustrating.

One of the best stories that I can share that shows some of the gratitude is: While in a parking lot getting into my car after buying groceries…ran up to me…I mean ran…I thought she was running to someone maybe behind me…once she got closer…I realized she was coming at me. Startled me…but she asked “Can I give you a hug?”, I said “yes”, she then said, “I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate your service.” She then explained that she usually tries to let every soldier she sees in uniform know that and hugs them. I was very touched. It is strange that in one day…you can get looks from those who oppose the war and will let you know that it is a waste and give you looks of death…and in the next moment…have an encounter like that one of that lady.

Speaking for the soldiers, we really appreciate the prayers and support from all. Hand written letters, notes, cards of hope, of news, of anything to keep us remembering of what to look forward to once we get back, to know that people do care…are welcomed. It is the highlight of the day to receive mail especially in the age of e-mail and Facebook. Not that those aren’t good tools to keep in touch…it is just different.

Well, I cannot think of anything else. Thank you for asking the questions.

Jody: Thank you so much, Tracie. I’ve enjoyed getting to know more about you. And thank you for your service to our country.

Tracie is presently serving in Iraq. If you would like to write her a letter, use the address is below.

2LT TRACIE MUÑIZ
HHT (-) TF 2/278th ACR
JBB  APO AE 09391

Writing, Sex, Parenting, and Poop

It’s probably no coincidence and I almost hate to admit it, but I got some serious writing done this weekend! It helped that I had NO plans and pretty nearly divorced the household to hole away with my manuscript and my young adult author imagination. And, yes, I’ve “run” (Let’s just call it treadmill time) for about one week and magically my writing has improved. But what is fascinating for me about this last weekend of writing was how little my kids demand of me these days.

I know many writers out there have little kids, and I have no idea how you manage them and writing at the same time. I couldn’t. Or didn’t. I like total immersion in the writing process, I guess. Yes, I must, because even the adorable ballads my husband belts through the house as he showers (“Oh, Jody, Jody, Jody, how great thou art…” He likes to mix his musical genres) begin to frustrate me and I lose focus on the page. (Sorry, Baby. Don’t stop though.) Anyway, I totally digressed right there. What I wanted to say is that here is some good news for you writers (or any work-from-homers) with little kiddos: they will begin to need you less and less. Seems obvious, but for me a total awakening! (Kind of like the day I realized I’d gone an entire day without thinking about my kids poop. Hallelujah! Parenting is weird. Amen.)

Josh said to me this weekend, “We’re halfway done raising them, you know.” It took me by surprise. And I know I know I know that our kids will require parent time well after they’ve hit the age of eighteen. But. The time demands will be different and I relish my alone time! I got a taste of that this weekend. I revised over 100 pages of my work-in-progress, which I will tempt you by pitching as “The Goonies meets Post Secret.” The damn thing is coming along! I was confessing to my friend that I always get that feeling right after a HUGE revision, Oh God I hope I still like this in the morning. I fear waking up, rolling over and seeing my manuscript and thinking, shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit, you didn’t look like that last night. It happens. I’m shallow sometimes with my writing–appearances are everything. So, I’m happy to report that I still loved my revisions in the morning, I’m still having treadmill time, (though I publicly admit that I did not this morning) and my kids are growing up and becoming more and more independent. Now, who wants to buy my house?

Self-Deprecating Sunday (15)

In which the YA author shares the great and awkward of her teenage years.

I have been lining up more guest posts for this great day of celebration over here at Sparks and Butterflies. You will not want to miss the coming month of Sundays. And don’t forget, if you’re a YA author who wants to participate, email me!

But today I give you a photo of myself during my freshman year of college. We’ve discussed this photo a little bit over on Facebook, so pardon the repeat performance. But this deserves an encore. Now, granted I was studying and had no plans to go out, so we can forgive my sweatsuit, yes, sweatsuit and decidedly 1980’s fluorescent pink socks. I will not, however, forgive my (to quote my friend Tammara’s phrasing) “Penis-y” haircut.

But going beyond the appearance of me, feast your eyes on my hip and classy taste in movies:

1. Beauty and the Beast
2. The Little Mermaid
3. The Return to the Blue Lagoon
4. Single White Female
5. Benny and Joon
6. Nowhere To Run, and the clincher….
7. Ernest Scared Stupid

What can we learn from this? Never underestimate your roommate’s love. Man, did Teffeny love me for allowing me to decorate the room!  She also recorded this moment in time, presumably in order to come back now and have the last laugh.

(And: don’t worry Jody, you won’t need those floppy discs and dot matrix printer much longer, they’re about to invent CDs and Google! And eventually flat screens! And laser printers, too!) Look at me, writing on paper! Probably something about boys. I bet our phone even had a cord.

**Note: Now that this is becoming somewhat of an author community type series of posts, I’m going to start a tab for Self-Deprecating Sunday, so you scan the archives and revisit your favorites.