Event news/reminder: One week from tomorrow (in other words, on Tuesday, September 16th) I’ll be at the public library in New Ulm, MN at 6:00 p.m. to read, talk about The Books of Elsewhere, and answer questions.  Books will be available for sale, and I’ll happily sign anything readers buy or bring.

On to the actual blog.

Last month, the Guardian featured this: A Previously Unpublished Chapter of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Roald Dahl is one of the reasons that I write for young readers. I had coincidentally just finished rereading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when my husband sent me this link, and I’m approximately halfway through the first draft of a new middle grade novel of my own.  Reading this was just what I needed, and not just because the chapter is full of fudge.  It was what I needed because the chapter isn’t “previously unpublished” in the way of those “bonus scenes” that appear on DVD menus — like something finished and polished and fully-formed but that just didn’t make the final cut.  It’s from an early draft.  Maybe even the very first draft.

And the final draft is so DIFFERENT.

– First of all, the Vanilla Fudge Room doesn’t even get a whole chapter in the final book.  It’s cut/combined with another room in the factory where there is indeed a fudge mountain, and pickaxe-wielding Oompa-Loompas are scaling it.
– Second, the chapter starts out by telling us about ‘the remaining eight children,’ when anybody who’s read the book or seen the movie knows that there are only five golden ticket-winning kids to begin with.  Who are these Wilbur Rice and Tommy Troutbeck anyway, and what is up with their boring names? (Also, Augustus Pottle eventually became Augustus Gloop, which is a really good thing.)
– In this draft, it’s Charlie’s mother who accompanies him on the factory tour, not scrawny, elderly, adorable Grandpa Joe.
– THERE ARE NO OOMPA LOOMPAS.  The factory workers are just ‘men.’ And they don’t chant any long and scathing rhymes about the children’s flaws.  All we get is one measly couplet.
– Then there’s the writing itself.  It doesn’t read or sound or feel like Roald Dahl yet.  It’s a little…well…bare-bones and bland.

This chapter is proof that all of the Dahl-ian magic–the vivid names, the wordplay, the oddity, the tone–came later.  Maybe in the second draft.  Or the fifth draft.  Or the thirty-third.

At school visits and writing workshops, I try to emphasize the importance of revision.  That revision isn’t just about misspellings and grammar mistakes and word choice and sentence structure, or any of those little tweaks that happen at sentence level.  That it’s the magic that happens between the first draft and the final one.  I explain that, in fact, your very first draft might seem to you like a pile of flaming poo (although I usually don’t use those words).  I say that every writer I know of is or was unsatisfied with their first drafts, and that even great writers make massive changes in plot, characterization, style, you name it, between the very first version and the final one.  Even though I’ve repeated these ideas to other people hundreds of times, I sometimes need to be reminded of them myself.  Especially when I’m halfway through another flaming pile of a first draft.

2013 has skidded to an end so fast that I know I’ll be writing the wrong year on checks (yes, I still use checks) for weeks — or, if I’m honest, months — to come.

It’s been a year of massive revisions and small beginnings.  I started a new play (yeah, I’m surprised too), wrote the first several chapters of a new MG trilogy, revised THE BOOKS OF ELSEWHERE, VOLUME FIVE: STILL LIFE, edited some short stories, dug back into an old MG stand-alone, and rewrote the lumbering YA project for the eighth time, longhand, and am just now typing it in its nearly (I think…) finished form.

I appear to have written just four poems this year, which makes it the least poetic year of my life since 6th grade.  I wrote zero new short stories, which saddens and surprises me, but I should be back in the short story saddle soon.  I saw one novel published — THE BOOKS OF ELSEWHERE, VOLUME FOUR: THE STRANGERS — in July, and an anthology — STARRY-EYED: 16 STORIES THAT STEAL THE SPOTLIGHT — released in October, and I completed a novel — and series — with VOLUME FIVE: STILL LIFE.  I’m looking forward to some new adventures and some fresh starts in 2014. Lots more news on those fronts soon.

Between revisions, travel, and school visits, I plowed through about a third of the books that had been waiting in increasingly dusty piles all around my house.  Here’s 2013’s reading list.  As before, titles in bold are rereads, and asterisks denote books that Ryan and I read aloud together.

THE MARRIAGE OF STICKS – Jonathan Carroll
ARCADIA – Lauren Groff
*CINDER – Marissa Meyer
THE INVENTION OF HUGO CABRET – Brian Selznick
THE MYSTERY OF EDWIN DROOD – Charles Dickens
ROMMEL DRIVES ON DEEP INTO EGYPT – Richard Brautigan
STUPID FAST – Geoff Herbach
HOW TO BE A WOMAN – Caitlin Moran
AMERICAN ISIS: THE LIFE AND ART OF SYLVIA PLATH – Carl Rollyson
UNDERWORLD – Don DeLillo
TOM’S MIDNIGHT GARDEN – Phillipa Pearce
A GATE AT THE STAIRS – Lorrie Moore
LAURA LAMONT’S LIFE IN PICTURES – Emma Straub
ODD GIRL OUT: THE HIDDEN CULTURE OF AGGRESSION IN GIRLS – Rachel Simmons
ALABASTER: WOLVES – Caitlin R. Kiernan
OUT OF THE EASY – Ruta Sepetys
TOUCHING FROM A DISTANCE: IAN CURTIS AND JOY DIVISION – Deborah Curtis
HOCUS POCUS – Kurt Vonnegut
THE BLOODY CHAMBER AND OTHER TALES – Angela Carter
NEW ORLEANS STORIES: GREAT WRITERS ON THE CITY – Andrei Codrescu, ed.
THIRTEEN REASONS WHY – Jay Asher
PRODIGAL SUMMER – Barbara Kingsolver
THE FLORABAMA LADIES’ AUXILIARY AND SEWING CIRCLE – Lois Battle
MISS PETTIGREW LIVES FOR A DAY – Winnifred Watson
A PROUD TASTE FOR SCARLET AND MINIVER – E.L. Konigsberg
STORYVILLE, NEW ORLEANS – Al Rose
NUTCRACKER OF NUREMBERG  – Donald E. Cooke
A GOOD HARD LOOK – Ann Napolitano
STIFF – Mary Roach
WHITE TEETH – Zadie Smith
THE PENDERWICKS – Jeanne Birdsall
A WRITER’S GUIDE TO EVERYDAY LIFE IN THE MIDDLE AGES – Sherrilyn Kenyon
*THE HOBBIT – J.R.R. Tolkien
AN EXALTATION OF LARKS – James Lipton
SHIPBREAKER – Paolo Bacigalupi
THE CLOISTER WALK – Kathleen Norris
THE PROFESSOR AND THE MADMAN – Simon Winchester
TRUMAN CAPOTE – George Plimpton
SLOUCHING TOWARDS BETHLEHEM – Joan Didion
*LET’S EXPLORE DIABETES WITH OWLS – David Sedaris
THE SHADOW OF THE WIND – Carlos Ruis Zafon
BETWEEN SHADES OF GRAY – Ruta Sepetys
MIDNIGHT MAGIC – Avi
DE PROFUNDIS AND OTHER WRITINGS – Oscar Wilde
FOUNDING MOTHERS: WOMEN OF AMERICA IN THE REVOLUTIONARY ERA – Linda Grant DePauw
STAG’S LEAP – Sharon Olds
SAVING CEECEE HONEYCUTT – Beth Hoffman
JOHNNY AND THE DEAD – Terry Pratchett
THE JEDERA ADVENTURE – Lloyd Alexander
BELLS IN WINTER – Czeslaw Milosz
THE RESURRECTIONIST – Jack O’Connell
ADVENTURES IN THE SCREEN TRADE – William Goldman
*THE WITCHING HOUR – Anne Rice
THREATS – Amelia Gray
GOING CLEAR: SCIENTOLOGY, HOLLYWOOD, AND THE PRISON OF BELIEF – Lawrence Wright
DAUGHTER OF HOUNDS – Caitlin R. Kiernan
ZEN IN THE ART OF WRITING – Ray Bradbury
THE FANTASY WORLDS OF PETER S. BEAGLE (LILA THE WEREWOLF, THE LAST UNICORN, COME LADY DEATH, A FINE AND PRIVATE PLACE) – Peter S. Beagle
*A CONFEDERACY OF DUNCES – John Kennedy Toole
NO CONTEST: THE CASE AGAINST COMPETITION – Alfie Kohn
*BLINK – Malcolm Gladwell
GUSTAV GLOOM AND THE PEOPLE TAKER  – Adam-Troy Castro
GUSTAV GLOOM AND THE NIGHTMARE VAULT – Adam-Troy Castro
GUSTAV GLOOM AND THE FOUR TERRORS – Adam-Troy Castro
SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES – Ray Bradbury
*OUT OF THE EASY – Ruta Sepetys
*PRIME – Poppy Z. Brite
*THE DARK THIRTY: SOUTHERN TALES OF THE SUPERNATURAL – Patricia C. McKissack
THE BOOKLOVERS GUIDE TO NEW ORLEANS – Susan Larson
ETIQUETTE (1960 edition, orig. 1922) – Emily Post
THE 13 TREASURES – Michelle Harrison
TALES FROM THE HOUSE OF BUNNICULA: INVASION OF THE MIND SWAPPERS FROM ASTEROID 6 – James Howe
THREE TIMES LUCKY – Sheila Turnage
STARRY-EYED: 16 STORIES THAT STEAL THE SPOTLIGHT – Ted Michael/Josh Pultz, ed.
THE BRONTES: CHARLOTTE BRONTE AND HER FAMILY – Rebecca Fraser
ELEANOR & PARK – Rainbow Rowell
SMASHED: STORY OF A DRUNKEN GIRLHOOD – Koren Zailckas
MARCH – Geraldine Brooks
THE ILLUSTRATED MAN – Ray Bradbury
WRONG THINGS – Poppy Z. Brite and Caitlin R. Kiernan
*THE SEX LIVES OF CANNIBALS: ADRIFT IN THE EQUATORIAL PACIFIC – J. Maarten Troost

Not counting much-loved rereads (looking at you, Bradbury and Tolkien), the books that really stuck with me this year are the fascinating GOING CLEAR: SCIENTOLOGY, HOLLYWOOD, AND THE PRISON OF BELIEF, by Lawrence Wright, the un-put-down-able ELEANOR & PARK, by Rainbow Rowell, Peter S. Beagle’s heartbreaking A FINE AND PRIVATE PLACE, Geraldine Brooks’s luminous MARCH, and Lauren Groff’s gorgeous ARCADIA, which is the sort of flawlessly constructed, richly layered, utterly and frighteningly believable book that pulls you into itself and sends you back out into the real world tinted and changed.

Wishing you a 2014 rich with stories, satisfying work, and good surprises.

A snowy night in Red Wing.

Yep, this is one of those.

I can’t believe September is already one-third over.  The end of the summer was a whirlwind: a visit from the in-laws, a final round of revisions on STILL LIFE, and my (not-so-little) brother’s beautiful lakeside wedding.

Congratulations, you two.

Now I’m digging back in to the Shakespearean YA project, which has been put aside for so long that I can see it clearly again.  I’m eagerly destroying and rebuilding, rewriting and reacquainting, and spending a lot of time staring dazedly into the distance as new ideas fit themselves together.  It feels really, really good.

My fall schedule is rapidly filling with school visits and public appearances.  Among the recently added (public) events are:

– Wild Rumpus Bookstore, Minneapolis – Saturday, October 26, at 1:00 p.m.  Reading, signing, chatting, and all sorts of special Halloween fun.

– Addendum Books, St. Paul – Saturday, November 16, at 1:00 p.m.  This is a group middle-grade author event, featuring me, Anne Ursu, Kurtis Scaletta, and Lisa Bullard. (I’ll be insanely excited just to be in the same store with these writers, so please come and watch me make a fool of myself.)

And new information is constantly being added to the Louisiana Book Festival website.  The Festival is held in Baton Rouge on Saturday, November 2nd; once I know just when and where I’ll be speaking, I’ll share the info here.

Even with book releases, summer tends to be the quietest time of the year for me, events-wise.  I’m looking forward to a new round of school visits… And speaking of schools, this 4th grade class in Milford, CT read THE SHADOWS, created their own magical paintings, and wrote short stories to accompany them.  Learning that your work has inspired others to create things of their own — stories, paintings, playground games, new names and histories for their stuffed animals — is just about the coolest thing in the world.

Thanks, Ms. Nastasia, and everyone at Meadowside Elementary. 

Another cool Elsewhere-in-the-wild sighting, this one courtesy of my very own editor:

On display at Water Street Bookstore, with THE SHADOWS sold out, in Exeter, NH.  If I ever/finally get to New England, I’ll have to make a stop there.

And (I was serious about the twenty disparate things) I am starting to use Tumblr at last.  I know a lot of my readers can’t/don’t use Facebook, so I’m hoping this platform will be a bit more accessible.  I don’t think it will take the place of this blog, in terms of actual information, but it may outdo it in number of dog pictures.  We will have to wait and see.  http://jacquelinewest.tumblr.com/

Tonight’s the night of the release party for THE SECOND SPY at the Red Balloon in St. Paul.  (7:00 p.m.  Cake.  Come on down.)   It will be great to pause and celebrate a completed book for a little while, because I’ve been in Revision Land for so long, moving back and forth between BoE Four and the YA/Shakespeare project, that I’m starting to forget how it feels to start or finish anything.  Okay–I know how to start things, and returning to that phase usually feels exciting and fun, but finishing things is another thing entirely.

Maybe this is because I’ve started thousands more writing projects than I’ve finished.  Maybe it’s because I’m not sure what ‘finished’ means, when we’re talking about a story.

Writers ask each other this question all the time: How do you know when a book is done?

I’ve heard some snappy answers.  Answer 1: When your deadline arrives. Answer 2: When your editor says it’s done. Answer 3: When you can’t imagine changing one more word without crumpling onto the floor in a drooling, wailing ball.

Here’s my own non-snappy answer: I’m not sure a book is ever done.

Revision Land isn’t land at all.  It’s a river, a pool, a sea.  Story is fluid.  You can see it taking shape as it ripples around you; you can shift it and separate it; you can solidify parts of it, freeze it in place.  But you can always open that folder, or that notebook, or that file, and let the writing melt again.  It can take on any shape or color or speed or temperature.  It can flow in infinite directions.  Sometimes you manage to capture a line that feels just right…but then something next to it changes, and that line isn’t just right anymore, so you alter it again.  And you realize that the line you thought was perfect could be perfect in a thousand different ways.

Deciding, too soon, that a piece of writing is DONE sets you up for trouble.  You freeze it all in place and back away.  You’re afraid to touch it.  The thing you’ve created feels brittle, fragile, tenuous.  Changing a single word seems impossible, and removing a line–or a whole chapter–would bring the whole thing crashing down.

Thinking of your work this way makes revision terrifying.  Or impossible.

When you’re working on a book, you rewrite on your own, for months or years.  Then you revise with an editor, for more months or years.  Then you work with a copy editor.  Even after galleys are printed, there are more little changes to make.  When at last the book is published — then, yeah, it’s ‘done,’ in that you don’t get to change it any more, even if you want to.  (At least that’s how it usually works in publishing.  I recently talked to a self-published author who entirely rewrote and re-released his first book after its original printing because he wasn’t happy with the story.  I can’t even wrap my head around this type of freedom.  It’s probably a good thing that I don’t have it.)  At that point, you just hope that all of your work and thinking and changing and dreaming have coalesced, and that the story you’ve caught on paper feels real and whole to someone who reads it.

The more I’ve learned about writing and rewriting, the more liquid it all becomes.  I’ve rewritten the entirety of that YA/Shakespeare project nine times now, and changed it in huge ways, and with each rewrite, I’ve liked it more — it’s felt closer to right, closer to done.  But I know I could write it nine more times, or nine hundred more times, and capture new shapes and colors and glints of light in the water.

Then, on revision 901, I would crumple up in a drooling, wailing ball.

I’ve just finished my most grueling revision yet (mostly grueling due to time constraints, not to the actual work involved, although there was PLENTY of that, too), and THE BOOKS OF ELSEWHERE, VOLUME FOUR is back with the amazing editor.  This means that I get to return to my other work-in-progress.  I spent yesterday afternoon and most of this morning rereading the entire thing, and I’ve just started scribbling my way into new territory.  Moving to a completely different project at this point feels delightful.  It’s like I’ve been eating nothing but pineapple for the last eight weeks–and I love pineapple–but now I’m finally getting to eat raspberries instead.  And raspberries have never tasted better.

Red Wing’s own Soapbox Players has also just finished the run of Alan Ayckburn’s “How the Other Half Loves,” a 1970’s comedy with the trickiest blocking I’ve ever had to master, and it was a blast getting to work with such a passionate group of theatre-folk.   Tonight we strike the set, which always feels rather sad.  Here’s the cast, in all our tacky 70’s glory:

(Please note the fondue pot.)

In a bit of delightful ELSEWHERE news, I just learned that THE SHADOWS has been nominated for the 2013 Grand Canyon Reader Award, which means that young readers in Arizona can vote for it to win the prize. It’s in amazing company, and I am thrilled.  Thanks to all the educators and organizers who make programs like this possible.