Sarah Fisk! Sarah, please send an email to daphne.unfeasible@gmail.com with your mailing address, and I’ll get the latest adventures of Scarlett, Spencer, Mrs. A, and the whole gang off to you!

As for the Oscar ceremony itself, for all that the movie Precious is subtitled “Based on the novel Push by Sapphire”, I found it somewhat obnoxious that the winner of the Best Adapted Screenplay award didn’t thank the author! But what were your favorite Oscar moments?

If you were given an award for your life’s work — call it a Newbery, Printz, Caldecott, Oscar, Grammy, Emmy, Tony, or what have you — who would you thank? What would your acceptance speech sound like? Would it be short and sweet? Funny? Inspirational? A laundry list of names?

Give it a try in the comments, and I’ll pick a random commenter and award them not with an Oscar, but with a Scarlett. Scarlett Fever, that is. Extra bonus: no one will be played off! Take all the time you need.

Dear Ms. Unfeasible,

I am seeking representation for my manuscript, COLORS LIKE MEMORIES, complete at 65,000 words. It is targeted toward an upper young adult, adult crossover audience.

Living with Julia’s college roommates is like living in a mine-field, one wrong step and she’s going to lose one of them. Navigating this treacherous ground is Julia’s job, and if she can get the three girls to work together they are supposed to be a powerful source of good, but only if she can keep them alive. Julia is a Sary, the soul of a child who died before she was born, only allowed to obtain a body and stay on earth if she secretly aids humans in need. She’s supposed to forget herself through service for others, but Julia’s never been very good at keeping that rule, or she wasn’t until it cost her the man she loved.

While her roommates struggle with grief, abuse, and suicide, a new boy in Julia’s classes, and at the bookstore where she works, draws her attention. Something about him reminds her of the man she lost, but also of memories better left buried. As the problems facing her roommates threaten to detonate in the form of a stalker bent on terrorizing their apartment, Julia can’t deal with her own issues, let alone help anyone else. Julia must get her life, and memories, together if she has any hope of saving her roommates, and herself.

I am a graduate student at the University of California, where I am in constant contact with college-aged students facing problems much like those Julia’s roommates face.

Thank you for your consideration.

Best,
MHS

Hello! Since I’m author and not an agent, I’m not really going to address the form of the query. I’m entirely concerned with the story as it is presented here. I’m going to be honest—I don’t really understand what this is about. I have a lot of comments, so I’m going to talk through the letter.

THE FIRST PARAGRAPH:

“Living with Julia’s college roommates is like living in a mine-field, one wrong step and she’s going to lose one of them. Navigating this treacherous ground is Julia’s job, and if she can get the three girls to work together they are supposed to be a powerful source of good, but only if she can keep them alive.” You begin with “Living with Julia’s college roommates is like living in a minefield . . .” Your first sentence, a simile, is instantly destroyed. You’re comparing something to itself. What you seem to be saying here is—if Julia makes a wrong move with either of her roommates, they will explode in some way. In fact, you say that if she must keep them alive. That’s dramatic! But . . . what? What is trying to kill them? I must know instantly! But there is no answer to this. From there, we learn that it is Julia’s job to manage these people in some way. Why is it her job to manage these dangerous, explodey people who face this undefined threat? The implication seems to be that the three of them, working together, have some kind of special power. (Like the Power of Three in Charmed. That’s what springs to mind.)

“Julia is a Sary, the soul of a child who died before she was born, only allowed to obtain a body and stay on earth if she secretly aids humans in need.” I guess this is the explanation, but these concepts aren’t really linked up. Now I have three sentences that fly in different directions. Moreover, the concept of dying before you are born is a bit tricky to get the head around. Because if you’re born—you’re born. You didn’t die. Birth and death are clear markers. And who let her “obtain a body”? Is it some kind of god or a committee or something? This concept needs to be explained. And why does she have to do this in secret?

“She’s supposed to forget herself through service for others, but Julia’s never been very good at keeping that rule, or she wasn’t until it cost her the man she loved.” Okay, now I’m really lost. “Forget herself” is a slippery expression, and I don’t know what you mean by it—so I don’t know at all what you mean when you next say that she’s not good at this. Then we get to losing the man she loved! That sounds juicy! But what happened?

THE SECOND PARAGRAPH:

“While her roommates struggle with grief, abuse, and suicide, a new boy in Julia’s classes, and at the bookstore where she works, draws her attention. Something about him reminds her of the man she lost, but also of memories better left buried.” So now I’m thinking that the roommates aren’t imbued with any special powers—they’re just insane. I still don’t know why it’s Julia’s job to deal with them, since they are so deeply unstable. Then the new boy breaks into the sentence, and he’s in two places at once. And then, the memories come. And they’re even more ^#&$*ed up than what’s going on, I guess, but I have no idea what they are. None of these concepts are defined or completed.

“As the problems facing her roommates threaten to detonate in the form of a stalker bent on terrorizing their apartment, Julia can’t deal with her own issues, let alone help anyone else. Julia must get her life, and memories, together if she has any hope of saving her roommates, and herself.” Yeah, I don’t know what’s happening. The first sentence throws a lot of information at me (I think the detonate is an attempt to carry through the minefield thing, but the verb doesn’t quite work and the whole image is still wobbling). The second sentence doesn’t make any sense. From the title, I get the idea that memories must play into this in some big way, but I have absolutely no idea what you mean when you say she has to get her life and memories together.

“I am a graduate student at the University of California, where I am in constant contact with college-aged students facing problems much like those Julia’s roommates face.” Given my confusion, I find myself staring blankly at this. Is this book about “college issues” or being some kind of creature that dies before it is born?

There seems to be a LOT going on in this book. The major thing that leaps out at me is that it seems this is a story about a girl with powers of some kind (does she have powers?) who had a tragic romance that she doesn’t want to repeat. I can’t tell if the roommate stuff is a plot of equal importance. One plot must win. You can have other things going on in a story, but there has to be one throughline.

When rewriting this query, here’s what I would focus on:

I think you are trying to write in soundbites or in sentences you think might look good on the jacket of a book. On examination, they don’t mean much and they don’t fit together to build any kind of clear picture. That means the query will fail. To succeed, you need to sharpen. You need to be clean and clear and proceed in an orderly fashion. And you need to provide answers for some very basic questions.

What is Julia? Sary means nothing to me. Is that a thing? I don’t have a clue, and therefore, it is likely that most YA readers won’t either. (Google also doesn’t know.) You’re going to have to explain right up front. The concept of dying before you are born is going to make a lot of people scratch their heads—so you’re going to have to deal with that fact. (It can be done, but it will take work and finesse.) I want to know who or what has sent her into the world with this mission. (Whatever it is, it must be pretty mean. And how do you negotiate with someone in utero?) I need the mission defined, I need to know what the consequences are of failure.

Because you said she already has failed. And that means, from what I have read, that she should be dead.

So why is she still here? What are the rules? Is this some kind of last-ditch chance? Is that why she has to live with these crazy people? Has she been told by whatever it is that rules over her that she can have no more guys?

I feel like that’s paragraph one. What is she? What is her mission? What happened last time to the other dude?

Paragraph two can move you into the current situation. I’m sort of making this up now in my head—but I’m thinking she’s been given some kind of second chance. What is up with this second guy? All I know about him now is that he goes to class and hangs out in a bookstore, and that doesn’t sound too problematic.

I don’t know what to tell you about the roommates, because I just have no idea what’s happening. I know it sounds serious but I can’t build a picture from these facts. If the story is about saving the roommates, then don’t dwell on the guys in the query. As for the memories, they seem to be a tertiary concern. These scary memories are not defined or explained in any way, which in a query is annoying . . . especially when the concept is in the title. Don’t play games. Say what the memories are about. Then decide which point is most important. Of these three things, I must know which to focus on.

And definitely go for clarity over nebulous, quasi-atmospheric phrases. Agents want to know what the book is about. The minefields and the detonating stalkers will blow up your chances. I understand the impulse—but QUASH it! QUASH the SQUISHY BITS! It’s fine to say something poetically, but every sentence must have a clear underlying meaning, correctly expressed.

I know that’s a lot to take on board! But good luck!

-mj

[Note from Daphne: MHS, you should also know that the "upper YA/adult crossover audience" is more a thing of hope than a true market. Yes, St. Martin's has launched a New Adult line, but it's still a little early to hope it opens up a world of possibilities for authors. Stick with calling your work "upper YA" for now, I think.]

[Another note from me: So what do you guys think?]

Scarlett Martin’s zany life gets, if possible, zanier in this second installment of the series. Her family’s struggling Manhattan hotel got a boost from the production of Hamlet it staged in Suite Scarlett (rev. 7/08), but now business is back to normal, leaving Scarlett to deal with the angst of a failed summer relationship and the insanity of her new boss, theatrical agent Amy Amberson. Her older brother, an aspiring actor, gets his first big break (but at what cost?); her older sister Lola has an identity crisis; and her younger sister, diabolically bad-tempered cancer survivor Marlene, is being worryingly…nice. Add Mrs. Amberson’s new client, a victim of stage-mothering, and said client’s irascible-yet-intriguing brother to the mix, and the hijinks reach a new high. Johnson skillfully balances the camp with warm family drama. In immediate, deadpan, to-the-point prose, she takes aim at the dark side of show business while continuing to develop the larger-than-life characters that are the heart of this series. The ending provides little actual resolution, especially to Scarlett’s romantic travails, but the process of getting there is so much fun that readers will likely just look forward even more to book three.

Gee, it certainly seems as if everyone is eagerly awaiting Book Three, huh?

Speaking of eagerly awaiting, I know I promised winners for my Pub Day contest today, but I decided to extend the contest by a WHOLE WEEK, to give you even more time to enter. Winner will be chosen next Wednesday, February 10th. Feel free to enter more than once!

As you may have read in Josie’s interview on the Flux website, music plays a part in Albatross, just as it did in Band Geek Love and Band Geeked Out. In order to enter the contest, tell me in the comments how music played a part in your high school life. Intern Jenny and I will pick the best, most entertaining story to win a copy of Albatross on Wednesday!

But let’s not leave out fans of Maureen Johnson, and the eagerly anticipated sequel to Suite Scarlett. The Kirkus review I linked to the other day gives a little hint about a plot point — Spencer gets a role on an insanely popular tv show. To win a copy of Scarlett Fever, imagine you’ve got a high powered talent agent like Mrs. Amberson, and tell me what show YOU’D want a role on, and what that role would be. Again, Jenny and I will look through the comments on Wednesday and decide which special guest star performance we’d most want to watch.

So have some fun in the comments, and good luck! And if you just can’t wait to win, may I suggest IndieBound to find a local independent bookstore where you can buy your very own copy of Albatross or Scarlett Fever — or both?

UPDATE: The contest is now extended to next Wednesday, February 10th. Good luck!

In other news, though, Kirkus reviewed Maureen Johnson’s Scarlett Fever, and they loved it! I quote:

The sequel measures well above its predecessor in this hilarious follow-up to Suite Scarlett (2008), which first introduced the eccentric, New York-dwelling Martin family. Picking up just a few weeks later, Scarlett is still convincingly nursing a broken heart and being run ragged by her employer, Mrs. Amberson, who has ambitions of becoming an agent. [...] Readers will have to read the first to understand this one, and the decidedly cliffhanger conclusion will ensure they are left in fevered anticipation of the next.

Woot!

Bookshelves of Doom has a few words for Maureen Johnson. Namely:

ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME INTO A CRAZY PERSON? How could you leave me hanging like that? Seriously? The only thing that stopped my agonized “GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” from actually being verbalized was the fact that I was reading under the blankets with a flashlight, trying desperately not to wake my snoring husband. You, madame, are a monster. Also, I am way tired this morning. So thanks for that, too.

Also, is it gross that I’m kind of in love with Spencer?

For the record, no, not gross at all. Click through for the rest of the review.

Over on the Flux blog, they’ve got a great interview up with Josie Bloss about Albatross, and it’s similarities and differences with her previous Band Geek books. An excerpt:

FLUX: The tone in Albatross is more serious than your previous two books. Here, you’ve chosen a far darker story and style. What inspired this change?

JB: Though the story is darker, I think the themes of a girl finding her voice and her inner strength are quite similar to the Band Geek books. Honestly, this is a story that called to me and demanded to be written. I was going through a tough time in my personal life and when my world is upside down, it can be difficult to think or write about anything else. I borrowed significant parts of my own experiences for this book. In some ways, Albatross was my therapy and my method of productively processing these difficult experiences . . . and it’s a fist-bump to other people dealing with similar situations. Sometimes you just need to hear that you’re not alone.

Also included on the Flux blog is a excerpt — check it out!

But wait, there’s more! Author Elana Johnson on Ellen Booraem’s The Unnameables: “Holy blazes, the woman knows how to use the right words to tell the story.”

And the pun-derfully titled Prose and Kahn says Powerless by Matthew Cody, “is an awesome debut novel and will not be a shelf sitter.” Woot!

And finally, the winner of a book of their choice on Tuesday’s entry is… *drumroll*… Comment #8 (thanks to Random.org). Jean, I’ll email you for your address and book preference!

Full disclosure: By my nature as a literary agent, I get a commission on sales of books by my clients, through any eventual royalties. My links to the Amazon pages of their titles also earns me a small fee, if you click through and buy a copy.

So, with that carrot dangling before you, what I love to know from you is what else you’d like to see here at kt literary. More questions answered? More live blogs of my queries? More stats and numbers? More links to reviews of books by our clients? More contests? More of my own reviews of books I’ve read for pleasure? More Web Monkey? More shoes? Or something else entirely? Do you want more regular features? Like, every Monday we post reviews and every Wednesday I hand over some publishing advice? Or do you like it random?

Let me know your thoughts, with the caveat that I may not be able to do everything you ask for, but I will do my best to respond to your comments. Bear in mind, too, that my answering more questions from you and posting more About My Queries, for instance, requires additional help from you.

Thanks! Comment to win!

This is one of those politically correct questions. Recently I’ve read a few books where a character is introduced a few chapters into the story and the narrator/main character describes her as “black” or “Asian” or “Hispanic.” It always jolts me because the rest of the characters in the book are not described as “white,” but it is assumed as a reader I know they are. Now if by saying a character has blue eyes and red hair the author figures I’ll know the character is white, why can’t he/she just say something like “her eyes were as brown as her skin” to describe someone who is black? It just comes across that the author assumes his/her readers are white. Does this bother anyone else? Am I being overly sensitive? For the record, I’m white.

Anne, I wish there were a simple, easy answer to this! Rexroth had a great post on descriptions the other day, which said, in part:

I firmly believe that in any situation where the description of a thing only does one thing (tells you what something looks like), it can probably be left to the reader for the most part. Certain things can be implied in order to inform the reader’s impression, but you don’t need to spell stuff out. In fact, you’re better off not to, because what the reader comes up with out of their head will be (subjectively) better (read: more effective) than anything you write down.

But sometimes, yes, you’re butting up against assumptions that are going to be wrong, and you want to be clear and avoid confusion. So what do you do?

Well, I asked Maureen Johnson her thoughts. She’s always got thoughts, after all, and as a writer, I think she’s much better equipped to answer your question than I. Her fantastic, detailed response to Anne’s question follows (with The Last Little Blue Envelope scoop!):

This is something we (and by we, I mean me and some other writers I know) have been talking about recently, because there have been a lot blog posts recently about this very issue.

Doing good descriptions is hard, because you have to choose which facts are relevant to mention. How people *interpret* these facts–well, that’s another matter entirely. But when you write something, you have to have SOME sense of what impact your words are going to mean. That is pretty much the job description. Those descriptions are code–they should tell you something about the character, something aside from what’s there, flat, on the page. If you say the character went to the ball in a wonderful ballgown made by mice–that’s one story. If you say that the character went in a karate outfit–that’s a very different story. (Clothes, of course, are wonderful and sometimes much too easy flags, but they are also necessary! Because going to the ball naked is ANOTHER STORY ENTIRELY.)

So, okay. You have to pick your facts. What have you got? You have physical appearance, behavior, and dialogue. That’s basically it. And you want to carve out as specific a portrait as you can using those things, and you want to take the reader with you into your head to show them this person. The thing is, readers have stuff in their heads too. We all carry certain assumptions into things we read, whether we mean to or not.

I happen to be white. Not all of my characters are. I was working on a scene today for the sequel to a book called 13 Little Blue Envelopes. There are three people in the scene. One of the characters (her name is Ellis) is black. This fact in and of itself doesn’t impact the scene–she’s there having a conversation with Ginny and Keith from the first book, and they are both white. I do describe her, because this scene is her entrance, and she’s important. But I never said Ginny is white or that Keith is white. I don’t want to have to make a point of mentioning that Ellis is black. Also, “black” isn’t just one skin tone. If I’m going to talk about the color of her skin, it’s not really enough to say she is black. There is a whole language of pigmentation. I know variations of white, because that is the skin that came with my body. I’m a pale, easy burner. I don’t tan correctly in the sun. I only stay this color or explode into a second-degree nightmare and walk around for a week looking like a human strawberry, one who gets lectures from total strangers about skin cancer. “Black” is a massive range with a lot of descriptive terms that carry cultural weight. I’ve had friends tell me about the issues they’ve had being “too black” or “not black enough.” So it’s complex, and I don’t want to overcomplicate the scene by loading it down with endless descriptions that capture her skin tone PRECISELY.

At the same time, there is a nagging voice in my head that tells me that people might then assume she is white, when she is not.

Why might people assume this? Well, part of it might be the covers. My covers all seem to feature white girls with no heads. (And YET, people always seem to know my characters have heads! MYSTERIOUS!) Maybe it’s my moony face on the back flap. All I know is I want Ellis to be known on her own terms. I don’t know how I’m going to do it yet. Right now I’m thinking that I simply won’t bring it up at all, because I can’t figure out why she would. I’d rather say nothing than to do one of those “her beautiful cafe au lait face” descriptions. (The one thing that I have been told by several black writers is that the comparisons to coffee and chocolate confectionary are very, very old and wearing and quit it with the food. The same can be said of “milky whiteness.” These things must die.)

Speaking of common assumptions, my characters are also not all straight. Sexuality isn’t something you can see, so that requires more context. And sometimes, I don’t go into that much detail about certain characters because it is irrelevant to the scene. It might be weird to have some guy say, “So now I must go and see my boyfriend, who is also GAY LIKE ME” if the scene doesn’t call for it. I’ve tried to sneak it in here and there, like Olivia mentioning her girlfriend at home in 13 Little Blue Envelopes, or Billy Whitehouse [in the Scarlett books -kt] saying that he has a husband to think of and can’t stay late at rehearsal, but I can only do this if it makes SOME KIND of sense for this to happen. If the characters are major, then you can work it in a lot more naturally.

So I guess my long non-answer is context. You can’t have a description in a vacuum. You have to pick your data points because they are relevant to understanding something about the character in the world in which they live. The more context, the richer the reading experience. You don’t want to throw in the entire kitchen sink in the hopes that you will be able to make people know EXACTLY WHAT IS IN YOUR HEAD because that is a). impossible, and b). unwanted. The descriptions must have purpose and meaning.

Also, I have long advocated the abolishment of covers, unless they have pictures of cats on them, because people love looking at adorable cats. Preferably ones in clothes [Or shoes -kt]. Otherwise, I would much rather have a book covered in plain paper that you can draw on yourself.

I am not sure I answered your question, but I certainly talked a lot, and that must count for something.

Anne, I hope that helps! Readers, do you have any thoughts or suggestions for descriptions of characters?