On Writing: Helpful Books for Writers

There are numerous books on the market claiming to help you become a better writer. Any self-help book is set to provide advice as to what tools you need to improve upon yourself, but in this case it’s about improving your craft. Beyond Do-It-Yourself (DIY) type manuals I’m not one to partake in reading books about all you need to know about writing and how to improve. Mainly because no one can teach you to become a better writer. Can someone provide receive guidance? Absolutely! But the sole role of development comes from you and your willingness to take in information and learn from it.

Am I saying that writing books are unnecessary? Not at all. And what does my opinion matter anyways if that were what I was saying? From my viewpoint artists (emerging or established) help other artists, and you can learn & improve at all stages.

What I will say is that how I’ve developed to be a better writer than the one writing Goosebump like stories including her friends from junior high school on is that I’ve read, read, and read some more as well as listened to those I respected and even those whose opinion I didn’t necessarily agree with. Open-mindedness is the best tool a writer can have. And in that vain I have to admit there are books I’ve found helpful that aid in the guidance of improving upon your writing.

Stephen King’s On Writing has been touted as one of the best books on writing in the past several decades if not ever. It’s a short book and is split into two sections. One is his experience becoming one of the best-selling genre writers of this and the previous decade. The second focuses on the editing process on what works and what hasn’t, while also noting there’s no key formula to the overall publishing formula of hits and misses. He speaks on vocabulary (simple is good, if it’s your style), pacing, and dialogue (I think one of King’s strengths).

On Writing is a helpful read for the emerging writer because you learn about how he started out and how his writing was not a career at all but a pastime he believed in. King worked as a janitor to help support his family and made the time to write. Now, his story isn’t one that will happen to everyone who reads this book but it’s always humbling to know that those who have it all today (and by all I think we as artists feel that the art itself will sustain us so that we do not have to have another job to supplement our income and our time) had to clean toilets and change diapers and wake up early or stay up late to get their words on paper and then wade through numerous rejections before finding that one ‘yes’ that will hopefully lead to many more.

Another well known author is Francine Prose. Her book Reading Like a Writer is a great resource because of the fact that the main and consistent advice a writer will always (and yes, I say ‘always’ even though you probably shouldn’t use the word depending on whose advice you take) be to read, read, and read some more. How can you write without reading what’s out there? Whether it be in the genre you write in or others. Should you confine yourself to only reading what you want to write or expand on literary if you write genre, contemporary if you write history, non-fiction and poetry if you only write prose? Yes, yes you should. Read as much as possible people!

Prose delves into portions of writing itself building from words to paragraphs to narration to details, etc. She gives examples from said books in each portion. Prose dissects these sections to help you see what she does when it comes to the overall structure of the work itself and how it helps to get you, the reader, to feel and see what the author’s intent was. She also provides a list of books “to read immediately” via the snippets within the sections she uses as illustration. For me this was a great read because it added to my reading list and I could see if I wanted to pursue reading more from a particularly author she touted or not. I have definitely learned a lot from reading more and seeing how authors manipulate words and choose to be lengthy in their description or not. How to work with gestures and not use them so much as markers but in ways to reveal more about the character when it comes to certain situations.

The First Five Pages by Noah Lukeman is one of my favorite books. Lukeman actually helps more with the editing process whereas other books may be more general. It was through First Five Pages that I realized how much adjectives and adverbs can be overdone when not using them can also pack a punch! He breaks it down into the prelims (presentation, sound, style) to content (hard to follow plot, reading between the lines, providing information) to the overall picture (show vs. tell [a lesson all writers learn at some point], tone, and focus, and--one of my Achilles heels--pacing). Lukeman examines and explains the writing/revision process from the perspective of a prospective agent and what their first impressions will be based off the first five pages of your submission. And believe it or not, with all the submissions agents and editors receive you may only get five pages to impress them enough to read further. Lukeman presents the problem and offers realistic solutions for you to consider when writing/revising. What I also like is that he has End-of-Chapter exercises which often includes taking a piece of work and rewriting it via the parameters of what he’s suggested. First Five Pages is something you can read en route but to really take Lukeman’s advice to heart you have to set yourself down, read it, and then pursue the exercises he’s provided to actually see and hear the difference in your work. I know when I removed adjectives and adverbs it forced me to chose action words that really hit the emotion of the scene hard.

Lukeman offers various books on how to improve your plot, write a great query letter, and use punctuation properly. Lukeman is one-stop shopping for editing and revising. Check out his website as soon as possible!

The books I’ve noted are all relatively short (less than 300 pages) and reasonably priced (none are more than $15) and you can find them anywhere. If you’re skeptical of How to Write books I’d suggest checking these out to at least get some inspiration. Stephen King provides insight as a famous writer who worked hard to get where he is now. Francine Prose examines literature itself and how we can learn from it the more we read. Noah Lukeman reveals insight into the mind of an agent. All of these are great tidbits to strengthen your work and to consider more of what others see when it comes to your writing. The first step is to create and the next one is to revise and edit, then repeat. With writing being a solitary field these books help you feel like you’re not alone.

Second (Write) Campaigner Challenge

Well, I just blew the first challenge but I am up for the second dog-gone-it! Rachael Harrie's Fourth Platform Campaign boasts some challenges and the latest one is to write a flash fiction/short story or poem based around an image prompt. You can read and vote for entrants at Rachael's blog here.

Here's the image I chose...

...and here's the flash fiction piece I produced in 200 words entitled (for the moment) "Boom."

Let me tell you a story...

Once upon a time a boom created the world. Beasts roamed and acted on instinct, something everyone has, no matter what you’ve heard. Time passed, a crash, and man arrived living alongside the beasts. It was chaotic but not so much that One looking down would be concerned. Civilization was coming into itself.

Fast forward as man walks erect, animals conceal themselves, and the world becomes stone. Serenity breaks. Differences are found, not embraced. Beliefs are not in line, skin pallor is too dark, and what was once so beautiful about them was now what held man against one another.

And so the land cracked and nations developed, wars began, machinery made the sky as dark as the newly cemented ground. Man oppressed man (and woman) to retain “purity” all in the name of a holy being who watched and waited hoping for things to right itself without taking a hand.

It seemed better, but it wasn’t, not really. Creation begot humanity. It begot nature. It begot what was once good about the world.

Once upon a time a boom created the world and a boom would destroy it so life could begin anew.

Write Campaign - 11 Questions (I've been tagged!)

As you know from my February 7th post I am participating in Rachel Harrie's Fourth Writers' Platform-Building Campaign. Every year some of the campaigners tend to 'tag' participants to answer and then create and again 'tag' others with 11 questions. Fellow writer Elizabeth Twist has tagged me with the following questions. Thanks, Elizabeth! These are good questions.

1. What are you reading?

Currently I'm reading Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell. It was a book club pick from my previous job.

2. What is your favourite creative activity that is not writing?

Well, if you're on this site you know my other love is baking and/or eating baked goods. Mmmm, sugar. I have the battle scars to prove it to (3 root canals, 4 if you count one redone). Also naps are pretty sweet.

3. Where or how do you get your best ideas?

Randomly. I've gotten many from walking, being on the subway, waking up in the middle of the night or not being able to go back to sleep. I got some decent ideas bike riding. They really do just smack me in the face at times and sometimes they work and sometimes they don't.

4. If you could magically and painlessly change one thing about your mind or body, what would it be, if anything?

Augh, my lack of will power when it comes to portion control. I need to eat smaller servings and not just eat because I'm bored or stressed or because food is there. It's not going to disappear, I hope. So I wish I had more will power in terms of that and to really pursue what I want and not always second guess or think of repercussions. Wouldn't hurt to be selfish every so often when it comes to my art.

5. What's the scariest movie, story, novel, or scene you can recall?

I don't know if it counts as scary but there was a cringe worthy love scene in Endless Love (Scott Spencer) that went on for awhile in that book. I won't even attempt to go into detail.

A scene that also freaked me out was in Saw 2 when the woman was thrown into the well of needles and had to find a key. That is basically my worst nightmare. Tetanus shot!

6. What's the weirdest thing you believe?

I believe in karma. What goes around comes around and all. Some people may find that to be weird or feel that the world is out to get you but I firmly believe good things happen to good people and sometimes it takes awhile. I do not believe that bad things happen for a reason though. Not all the time anyways.

7. Super strength or super intelligence?

Hard one. I'd say intelligence. Of course that has its downsides as well, but in the end knowledge is power, supposedly.

8. You're granted the ability to become invisible. Where do you go and what do you do? (Bonus question: Are you wearing clothes? I mean, what about YOUR becoming invisible makes your clothes invisible too? This has always bothered me.)

I would LOVE to be a fly on the wall in a politicians office to hear what he/she is saying without the media around. How he/she may feel about issues but what they tell the public be it because they do or don't believe it or purely from a tactical standpoint.

If invisible I would prefer to wear clothes but obviously from a scientific standpoint it may not work and all. I mean it seems that perhaps invisibility of clothes comes into play as a way to get around things in films/books, especially in retaining a PG-13 rating and all.

9. What one change do you think would have the most positive impact on the world as a whole?

Equal rights for all. I think if everyone was truly seen and treated as equals all this bulls*** strife in the world would melt away a lot of issues that we have now. Think of it, why do we have so many wars and such? Because someone is trying to maintain a power over another group. The world just doesn't change.

10. What is the crappiest advice you've ever been given?

Hmmm, I did tell a girl to tell a guy she liked him even though I knew he didn't. This was more than ten years ago when I could be a petty b****. He wasn't rude when he turned her down or anything but I could've looked out for her a bit more.

11. What's your favourite song right now?

I had a thing for Mumford & Son's 'The Cave' a month back but now I'm back into Florence & The Machines 'Dog Days are Over.' That is a great jam!

My turn for questions!

They are as follows:

1. What literary character (any genre) can you most relate to & why? 2. If you could choose between having six months to yourself to pursue your art in a great area with beautiful landscape to write and no worries on money, food, living arrangements but would not be able to have any communication with the outside world whatsoever, would you do it? 3. What do you think is more important: true love or success? 4. What is usually the first thing you do when you get up in the morning? 5. Of all the books pubbed that you have had the pleasure to read which one do you most wish you'd written? 6. Why do you write? 7. If you had to lose one of your senses which would it be? (And yes, I include taste in this.) 8. What is the best memory you have? Have you ever used it in your writing? 9. If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? 10. What is your favorite thing to do before you write? 11. What is the food/drink item you go to most when stressed/upset/irritated? What is the food/drink item you go to most when happy/exuberant/celebratory?

And I choose to tag the follow fellow campaigners in my group(s):

Gwen Tolios, Jaye Viner, Diane Gillette, Sorcha's Blog, Lori M. Lee, & Yikici.

And feel free to answer the questions posed to me from Elizabeth or the ones I've posed in my comments section or on your own blog. Would love to read.

Happy campaigning! I look forward to hearing/reading about everyone's work.

My NYCMidnight Submission 2012 (Short Story)

Either I'm a glutton for punishment or I love me a challenge! Let's go with the latter shall we? I entered the NYCMidnight Short Story Competition again which took place over the course of eight days from 11:59pm on January 20th to 11:59 pm on January 28th. I stayed up that Friday awaiting my challenge and found that the genre I received, again, was romantic comedy. This time there was a character as well as a subject to work into your story. My character was a 'daredevil' and my subject was 'a rise to the top.'

[Oh, I should also note an update to my previous NYCMidnight post. I didn't make it to the next round of the Flash Fiction contest. But the horror story I wrote, "First Date," for the second challenge ranked very high, within the top three for that portion. However, the high ranking for the second challenge didn't help since I ranked so low in the first. Ah well.]

The short story first round took place over my birthday week and since I had festivities galore that planned (one word: pies!) I was hoping to be able to draft and write a story I could at least tolerate before the work week began. Luckily after receiving my assignment I thought up a premise I liked and scribed over 3000 words that first weekend. Over the course of the week I edited it down to slightly under the maximum word count of 2500 words. I can only hope that there's enough romance and comedy to earn it being categorized as rom-com. Last year I didn't like my piece but placed in the top 5 and after re-reading it a few times grew to enjoy what I created. This piece is 'meh.' But who knows. I'd like to make it to round two for once after being in the short story, flash fiction, and microfiction competitions last year, however if I placed well again I'd be happy. All-in-all I do enjoy the contests and will not rest until I have succeeded! <Insert maniacal laughter here.>

So, without further ado. I present my latest romantic comedy Walk of Shame:

“Are you out of your freaking mind?” Ricki says. She’s leaning against the door frame of my office, arms crossed in her blasé stance. But she’s giving me the Eyebrow. Raising it just enough that the person on the receiving end questions their motives. She used it often when we dated.

“It does sound…unwise,” Layla agrees. Her trademark scent of jasmine is pungent. She sits across from me while I remain behind my desk eyeing the latest sales figures for Sam & Sons Sports Equipment. We’re not in the red, but we’re getting there.

“I know it sounds extreme, but we’re a national sporting goods company. If we don’t believe in our product, who will?” I’m in charge since Dad decided to be a silent partner after the accident. I’m the one who has to think of the best ways for us to get back on top in a bad economy. So I should be the scapegoat for my idea.

Ricki sputters but doesn’t say anything else. She looks beyond me to the view of the city.

Layla rises from her chair. Her red suit hugs her body. Her skirt is short but it’s within regulation. She sits on my desk, crosses her legs giving me a peak of what she has on underneath, not much I can tell you.

“Nate,” she coos. “I know this seems like a good business plan but…”

I insist I’ll be fine. “I’ve climbed Mt. Everest, jumped from the Grand Canyon, skydived in Nepal.” I begin. Gaining momentum I push my chair back and point at the scene outside my window, at the adjoining sister building made of glass, steel, and plaster standing sixty feet from us and declare, “Eighty stories and sixty feet is a cake walk compared to what I’ve seen. I believe in our product and I need to do this.”

Layla gives me short applause while I mentally high-five myself for being a damn good salesman.

“Alright then. But this is it, okay? No more stunts.” Sneaking a peak at Ricki Layla makes a show of kissing me on the lips, pressing her whole body against me. I pull away quickly avoiding Ricki’s eyes.

Layla brushes past Ricki with a smirk on her face. Ricki stays back. She’s in one of many plaid skirts she owns. She wears her favorite pair of Converse sneakers. And her hair is sexy as hell in a messy bun, a pencil keeping it in place.

“You realize you’re not a Frenchman and this isn’t the seventies?” she asks.

“Of course.”

“Good, just wanted to make sure,” she says before leaving.

#          #          #

An hour earlier my assistant Javon played with the projector and my laptop trying to get my presentation up.

I was pumped, everyone else looked bored. Layla and her publicity team sat on one side of the oval meeting table. Sales and distribution were on the other.

Ricki was in back as the HR representative. Before going mute Dad said it was mandatory to have HR at sales meetings since one of the directors had tried to off himself. It was cited that this may have been prevented had we listened to what he was saying via a PowerPoint he made entitled ‘Life is Bullshit.’ In our defense most of us thought he was bitter because his nubile wife had just left him for someone her own age, and that perhaps he’d have learned his lesson after his sixth marriage.

I asked Javon if he was almost ready. He had a crease in his brow signaling he was either going to throw a tantrum or an object.

“Not working, Nathan,” he grumbled.

“Call, IT,” I said.

He glared at me but acquiesced. Employees would rather Google the hell out of something to figure out how to fix it themselves before going to IT. Holed up in a dank area of the office on a floor no one goes to except for supplies everyone considers IT hidden dwarfs, something out of Lord of the Rings. Whenever we call we suspect that they have a set recording and no one is actually there.

“Hello?” Javon said into the intercom.

“What’s the problem?” a voice crackled on the other end.

“Projector isn’t working with the laptop.”

“Is the device plugged in?”

“Yes.”

“Is it on?”

“Of course it’s on.”

“Did you jiggle the handle?”

Javon slammed his hand on the table. “Sonuvabitch!”

Ricki cracked a smile. She asked if Trevor could come by and help. At that the line went dead. Within two minutes he appeared.

I shouldn’t notice another guy but Trevor’s nothing like we thought of IT. The guy was broad shouldered and all-around chiseled. I thought I was good looking but for fuck-sake this guy was a Calvin Klein model. All the women and Javon drooled over him, even Layla gawked. But Ricki, his actual girlfriend, barely acknowledged his presence or good looks even after he winked at her.

Ricki and I locked eyes. I cocked my head to the side in a way that said “Really? That guy?” She in turn gave me the Eyebrow, which said “You dumped me, remember?” I didn’t have a facial gesture for that.

Once everything was set up I stood up. I looked at no one in particular, but found my focus kept sliding to Ricki. She didn’t look up from sketching, something I knew she did in her spare time since she studied art and not human resources in college.

I announced my idea while the video that inspired me played. The film was from the seventies, black and white and wobbly. A video of a Frenchman with balls of steel doing a tightrope walk between the Twin Towers rolled. This man held a beam in heavy winds taking his sweet ass time walking between two buildings that used to be the largest in the nation. This guy was lithe and agile and everything I remembered myself being before I hunkered down to run the company. Before my mother died in a freak accident. Before the Towers were no more and people were too afraid to ride in airplanes let alone be daredevils in their everyday life.

In the film the man was a speck against the Manhattan skyline. But in reality he was a trendsetter. A guy who wanted to do it because he could. I missed that feeling of just doing it. The rush of succeeding and feeling dizzy and hard all over. I felt myself getting erect right then and had to reel it back.

By the time I finished faces stared at me with mouths agape and eyes wide. One of the distributors slowly raised his hand.

“You’re saying you want to use our latest rock climbing rope to scale between two high rises?”

“Exactly.”

“As a publicity tool?”

I pointed at him. “Exactly!”

At my declaration Ricki squinted at me as though she didn’t recognize me.

Javon ran out of the room screeching. But no one else spoke. Silence turned into murmurs turned into intrigue weaving throughout the room. People said it sounded terrifying but glad it wasn’t them putting their ass on the line. They were excited, more than I’d seen them in months and I’d done that, as their boss. As a man with all the balls in the world.

#          #          #

On my desk is a picture of my parents smiling in neon skydiving suits. They had a priest come up several thousand feet in the air with them as they renewed their vows. I could barely hear them pledge their love to each other as the pilot signaled it was time for them to make their exit.

A month later, Mom died. Hangliding accident.

A tap at the door disrupts my thoughts. Dad’s in the doorway. He grins but I can tell by the lines etching around his mouth it’s forced.

“Nate.”

“Dad,” I reply.

“So…” he drags it out so that I fill in the gaps.

“You heard about what I’m doing next month?”

“I did.”

I lean back in my chair. “You don’t approve?”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Then…” it’s my turn to force his hand.

“I want to know why you think you need to do this.”

“Sales are down.”

“And?”

“We need to put our face out there again. Well, my face as the new head.”

“Anything else?”

“Sales are down.”

“You said that.”

“It’s worth repeating.”

Dad clears his throat. “I miss the thrill of it all too, Nate. I do. But some things lose their luster.”

“I know.”

“And you shouldn’t do this because you feel you have to.”

I lean on my desk. Folding my fingers together into a steeple I assure my father that I want to do this.

“If that’s the case then fine. But be careful. I can’t…” he chokes up. He covers his mouth as if to sneeze but I know he’s sucking back a sob. As his son I ignore it, allow him to have this moment of weakness.

He knocks on my desk three times. His way of exiting a room.

That night Layla comes over dressed in nothing but an overcoat and heels. She parades around and tells me to tell her how sexy she looks. It’s odd being directed to do so but I say it.

She snarls at me as she undresses, gets on all fours climbing on my bed and smacks me in the face.

“Ow!”

She looks stricken for a second but stiffens up. “You want excitement? I’ll give you excitement!” she yells. We tussle around, moan each other’s names. In reality her name isn’t the one on the tip of my tongue.

#          #          #

Time moved faster than I would have liked. I sit at my desk dressed in a goddamn leotard. What I won’t do for this company.

All day people have been coming in, rapping on my door already halfway in the office asking if I’m ready, mentally stable. Noting that the press is here. That there are orders up the wazoo. That people are going to post videos on the Internet and if all goes as planned the company will be a success again.

Thirty minutes before I’m to go to the roof someone knocks. Ricki appears behind the door and slowly shuts it behind her. She’s in her usual garb, same sneakers on. Never heels.

“Hey Frenchie.”

“Ricki,” I say admiring her from afar.

“Nice outfit. Do they have it in your size?”

For the first time in awhile I smile because I want to and not because it’s called for.

“The fact that I got into it at all is a feat in itself.”

“I believe you.”

“Are you here to try and talk me out of it?”

“At this stage of the game? Nah,” she waves the idea away. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing. Really doing.”

“A little nervous.”

She nods. “Sounds normal.”

I miss how relaxed things were with Ricki. Not getting beaten up as foreplay was a plus. I could be with Ricki then head off to bungee jump or for a business meeting and return to see her with a new item occupying her time.

“Hey! Bought a banjo!” she’d say holding her prize up.

Ricki embraced my wild side. Sometimes she’d join me, sometimes she wouldn’t. She’d put her head on my shoulder and inquire about events making me relive the whole experience right down to sweaty palms and fuzzy headaches from the intensity of it. But after awhile the jumps and the feeling of my heart in my chest didn’t matter as much as being with her. When I found myself snuggling with her instead of going out jet skiing with friends one Sunday morning, I knew I had settled down and it scared me.

On top of that I overheard her tell someone she was falling in love with me.

“I dunno how he feels about me though,” she added.

Of all the things I’d done, from convincing zookeepers to let me climb into tiger cages or jumping from a moving helicopter into the Baltic Sea hearing her say she loved me took my ability to breathe. My knees wobbled so hard I had to lean against the wall as I slid away.

That night I ordered in and broke up with Ricki. I told her we were too close, more friends than lovers. It almost felt true.

I was amazed she wanted to stay friends let alone be cordial. Especially once I started dating Layla and she paraded it around the office.

Speaking of, another knock reveals Layla. She gapes at Ricki before letting me know we have to go.

“Times up,” she says with some finality.

“Be right there. I need a minute.”

“Alright. Ricki…” she begins but I stop her.

“Ricki and I have something to discuss.”

Layla’s manicured nails scratch at the enamel but she grins and closes the door.

I get up from my seat and take a deep breath as I move towards Rickie. She smells faintly of roses.

Squeezing my hand she says, “Do this for you, Nate. Okay? Not for the business, or your mom God rest her soul.”

I nod. Lowering my head to hers our foreheads meet.

“I’m sorry,” I say because I am.

“For what?”

“You know what.”

“I’d rather have you as a friend than not have you at all. You know that.”

I open my mouth to speak but Layla barges in. Ricki and I are still close when Layla wedges herself between us telling me its time.

Every step is longer than the next until we finally get to the roof. It’s windy as hell up here.

From across the way I see cameras on the adjoining building. Media swarms our highrise as well. My dad is huddled among the mass as are Javon, other executives, even Trevor. I chuck a chin at Trevor and gesture towards my genitals, noting he may be good looking but I have the balls.

Ricki trails behind as Layla leads the way through the crowd. I feel exposed in this skintight outfit like I should be in Cirque du Soleil.

The questions are generic and so I have generic answers. “Feeling good! Can’t wait to get to the other side and prove how great our products are!” I say as jubilantly as I can.

I’m shoved to the edge. I’m given a beam. I’m asked how confident I feel and if I want to turn back. I shake my head at everything not wanting to give specific answers as bile hits the back of my tongue.

I take another deep breath. Once I’m on the ledge the wind knocks me back a few inches encouraging gasps from the crowd.

I turn and lock eyes with Ricki. No Eyebrow, instead she offers a smile.

“I love you,” she mouths.

Of all the things that frighten me in this moment it’s the fact that I love her too.

 [© copyright 2012 Jennifer Baker-Henry]

Fave Reads of 2011

After connecting with many book bloggers via Twitter and Goodreads last year and being part of a book group and always, always discussing books I enjoy (Hunger Games!) I figured I should join in and note some of my fave books that I read in 2011. I made a goal to read 50 books in 2011 and read 54, which was somewhat disappointing but hey I surpassed my goal. *Please note that not all of these books came out in 2011 and that I may have read ARCs or galleys of said titles that I got from Book Expo.

These are in no specific order of awesomeness. But overall I really enjoyed and would highly recommend them.

• When She Woke by Hillary Jordan (Fall 2011) - This was a phenomenal tale about a woman coming into her own after being betrayed by her beliefs and society in a dystopian setting where the highly religious and conservative rule with a heavy hand. It's a sci-fi take on The Scarlett Letter in which the main character is branded by the color red, and those that commit crimes are branded by colors also. It starts and ends with "when she woke" and you get chills reading some of the things the protagonist has to go through.
• Erasure by Percival Everett (re-released 2011) - One of Everett's earlier works and a great one. It mocks the literary elite and what is considered the 'Black Experience' by others. What happens when a very educated man writes what can be considered ghetto or urban lit and it is widely lauded by those who have no idea what it's like to be African American? Well, the way things go is intriguing and you don't quite get a final answer which makes you wonder where things are going in the literary world and outside of it where money talks and sometimes the subjectivity of art is questioned.
• Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor (Fall 2011) - I feel like Laini is one of the most literary and illustrative authors, not just YA authors, around. She brings you into her world and keeps you there and frankly you don't want to leave it. The worst part of a Laini Taylor book is finishing it. But she strikes gold again with the tale of a young girl raised by demons who are at war with angels and how deep things go when starcrossed lovers suffer a great betrayal.
• Domestic Violets by Matthew Norman (2011) - A debut from Norman and a really good one. Usually I get kind of urked by writers writing about writers but this delved into the reality of being a struggling, emerging writer trying to find your voice amidst real life responsibilities and day-to-day disappointments. As someone who works and writes and works I felt like Norman really captured the life of someone toggling between what they want to be and what they are. While a job shouldn't define you, it often does.
• Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese (2010) - This was a book club pick and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I loved the details and textures within this piece though it was kind of heartbreaking in the end. We had a good discussion about the characters and that's what stood out for me most throughout.
• Touchstone Anthology of Contemporary Creative Nonfiction (2007) - I am a fan of anthologies. Last year I read the Touchstone Anthology of Contemporary Fiction also edited by Michael Martone when I saw him again at the Postgraduate Writers Conference. What I love about anthologies is that they can introduce you to a slew of writers you weren't aware of in snippets. There are hits and misses with any collection but I always enjoy the range of stories and reading various genres.
• Lit: A Memoir by Mary Karr (2009) - I'd heard a lot about Karr's latest memoir. She's considered one of the best at the genre. After Lit I was hooked and am eager to read her two previous memoirs. She has a way of delving into things with a clear head looking back and capturing people, facial expressions, times as though they were a snapshot.
• The Given Day by Dennis Lehane (2008) - My first read of Lehane's. I've seen films based on his books but had yet to actually delve into one of his novels. I was invested from the first pages. He has a few too many POVs I felt but the core story between the White Boston cop and the Black man on the run and the friendship formed as America came apart and got back together again all the while having snippets of Babe Ruth (not as lovely as you may like to think) weaved in was amazing. And the fact that for me he didn't lose me at any part after more than 600 pages is a feat in itself.
• The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot (2010) - Another book club pick but also something I had been wanting to read for awhile. I was glad when I finally got to read it and discuss with others. It's funny that when I was reading it a woman came up to me and said "You wanna read a book that will REALLY make you hate White people? Read Medical Apartheid." Henrietta Lacks is a tome that does make you ashamed of how medical professionals treated patients, or color and in general. People were not people but test subjects and to some still are. It was eye opening really and heartbreaking to read of the Lacks family tragedies that went on for years with their mother in the ground and them in the dark about her cells contributions to science and the advancement of medicine.
• Beauty Queens by Libba Bray (Spring 2011) - A friend is the publicist for Libba Bray and highly recommended her book. After hearing her, Meg Cabot, and Maggie Stiefvater speak at a This is Teen event sponsored by their publisher Scholastic and hearing how funny and endearing Libba was I was happy to snag a copy. This woman is hilarious and really captures the voices of her characters. You have to go with the world she creates but her characters are not caricatures. They're endearing as much as the author is and so you go with it and kind of fall in love with each of them.
• Cold Kiss by Amy Garvey (2011) - Amy Garvey is one of the coolest authors I've had the honor of tweeting with and sending baked goods! I snagged a galley of Cold Kiss at Book Expo and boy was I glad I did. This is a well written character driven, literary young adult novel with fantastical elements. Some may say not a lot goes on action-wise but a lot goes on emotionally and I love the scenes she drew out of true love.

Other books I enjoyed this past year were The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater, Silver Sparrow by Tayari Jones, The Apothecary by Maile Meloy, The Vagina Monologues by Eve Ensler, The Bermudez Triangle by Maureen Johnson, and A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan.