Tan Lines

My mother calls me yesterday. "I got your book!" she says. "I've only read one page, but I think you write like Amy Tan."

A few words of explanation here:
(1) This is classic my-mother. She also read one sentence of my very first blog post (not on this site) and immediately Commented, "I love your writing style! This is a great blog!" As if none of my three readers who came afterward wouldn't guess that that had to be my mother. Moreover, I don't think she's read my blog since, which is why it's safe for me to blog about her.

(2) My mother admitted later that she couldn't read my book right now because she was currently reading--you guessed it--Amy Tan. THE BONESETTER'S DAUGHTER, to be precise, which I also enjoyed, though it was nothing like my writing in style or content. I wish!

(3) My husband's take, after looking mystified and saying, "Your writing isn't at all like Amy Tan's!" was to decide, "maybe she meant you're both Chinese." There you have it, folks, Amy Tan and I are both Chinese, so buy my book, just like you buy hers.

Not that comparisons aren't helpful in describing a work.

At the recent SCBWI conference there was a session to review query letters, aloud and in front of everyone. Even anonymously done it was agonizing. Like having your picture put up on the screen and having them ask, "Would you date this person? Yeah, me neither, but why not? Why exactly is this person so repulsive?" (But I digress.)

Occasionally writers would pitch their work by comparing it to existing published books. I don't know if it was just the luck of the draw, but most of the projects pitched could have been TWILIGHT-crossed-with-FILL-IN-THE-BLANK. And TWILIGHT was, in fact, frequently enlisted. One memorable project was, according to the author, TWILIGHT crossed with ANNE OF GREEN GABLES, HARRY POTTER, and BETSY-TACY. What??? Does that mean a five-year-old girl protagonist living on Prince Edward Island who turns out to be a witch who falls for a vampire? Or does it mean a red-headed vampire girl growing up in Minnesota who goes to Hogwarts as an exchange student? In either case SOLD--I'm buying a copy. My own pitch, being about a ten-year-old (male) pastor's kid, didn't have any ready comparisons, so I didn't include any. Umm...SUPERFUDGE crossed with PEACE LIKE A RIVER, only without the murders, cross-country pursuit, and mystical events?

I originally thought of MOURNING as MITFORD crossed with SEX AND THE CITY but abandoned that. Then I thought of MITFORD crossed with BRIDGET JONES' DIARY, which was a little closer, except that it isn't very MITFORD, apart from the churchgoing protagonist. You'll have to let me know what you think yourself. One thing I can tell you for sure: it's not Amy Tan.

Gatekeepers

This past weekend I heard some amazing declarations that had to be taken on faith, and I wasn't even at church. Uh-uh. I was attending my first professional writer's conference, organized by the snappily-named Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI--pronounced Scieszka, I think).

The hands-down most incredible statement was by one agent who, having been raised by generations of independent children's bookstore owners, ended on the battle cry, "Don't buy your books on Amazon! If we don't support independent bookstores, then Amazon gets to decide what everyone reads."

Huh?

I see Amazon as the great equalizer: anyone with a few bucks ($29.95/yr) can sell whatever they like on it. Take me for instance, and my soon-to-be-launched first novel--after serving up MOURNING BECOMES CASSANDRA to be ignored by three agents and impersonally rejected by a fourth, I've gone ahead on my own. If you can't get the gatekeepers to notice you, much less open the gate, just try pushing on it yourself and see if it won't swing wide.

And what gatekeepers they are! One agent did a session entirely on her pet peeves--things that make her reach for the auto-reject button. My own writing contains these gems straight off her no-no list:

1. Don't talk directly to the reader. ("Reader, I married him" is straight out, Charlotte Bronte.)
2. Don't have characters cry. One tiny teardrop will do ya.
3. Don't have characters' faces "drain of color" when they're upset. (Okay, I don't actually have this one, but I can imagine doing it. Perhaps opt for "Gerald went all blotchy with stress.")
4. Don't have characters blush. (Whoops. Blushing.)
5. Don't write about your pet or grandchild or child. (Heck, almost everything I write has personal inspiration. Not for me the disclaimer about "any resemblance to any person living or dead is a figment of your over-active imagination." Mine would more likely read, "Yeah, that's her.")

One editor said she was primarily interested in morbid and strange stories because she found children morbid and strange. She must have been signing new writers right and left, then, because I heard at least three teen oracle/witch stories being pitched, as were tales where the protagonist had been raped/assaulted/lived in foster care/lived on the streets/witnessed a death/come from a long line of women who had been so treated, or, preferably, all of the above. Whew. I guess I understand, though--if there's anything teenagers need more of, it's angst.

I wouldn't have you think the weekend made me abandon my middle-grade novel project, but it did alert me to people I would never show it to. Which saves us all time and effort, I suppose. But I can't help thinking I'd love to whip something up that contained all twenty kisses-of-literary-death from that one list and seeing what happened if I shopped it around.

We're all gatekeepers in the end (unless your book club forces you to read stuff you hate). I'd love to know what makes you slam a book shut and throw it on the floor, and if I'm out of line here.