Writing and Selling the YA Novel Read online

  Each piece of the character puzzle is important, but every story will require different information to be revealed. For example, you might think race is an essential trait that an audience must know in order to "see" a character in their mind's eye, but Virginia Euwer Wolff, in her books Make Lemonade and True Believer, made a deliberate choice not to reveal the race of her characters. Wolff wanted readers to make the characters into whatever race they needed them to be. This is a risky choice that takes a lot of skill to pull off, but through her insights into the characters' hearts and minds, we're able to feel as if we know them even while we're missing a large piece of their physical description.

  This is not only an example of an author making a choice, it's a choice that illustrates what's truly essential about defining character.

  While physicality is important, in the end, it's what characters do and say that makes them real to a reader.

  Think about the characters you create. What will your reader need to know to make them real? Do you allow for complexity? How does a character's physical appearance affect his mental state? Instead of falling back on the tried-and-true descriptions of hair color, eye color, and one or two dominant personality traits, consider what truly defines each of your characters. What makes them unique individuals, different from all others? Choose the information—whether it comes in the form of physical appearance, body language, or back-story—that will best reveal your character to your reader, and you'll find that your story will come to life.

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  PASSIVE VS. ACTIVE CHARACTERS_

  Have you ever heard an editor or a critic refer to a character as passive? Maybe, like me, you've found yourself frustrated by this term. What exactly does it mean, and what's so bad about creating a passive character? Isn't this a trait we often find in real people, especially certain teenagers, who can be prone to spending long hours watching TV or playing videogames?

  Since passive people do exist in life, it took me a long time to understand why a passive character so seldom works in the context of a novel. It wasn't until I tried unsuccessfully to write a novel featuring a passive character that I learned what makes this trait so difficult to portray. Hopefully, this section will save you lots of misspent time and effort.

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  If you're considering writing about a passive character, or if you're told by others that your existing characters seem too passive, consider this: Passive people might be described as submissive or failing to take initiative. They are acted upon more than they act. When you look at this description side by side with the statement above about characters being revealed by what they do and say, the picture should begin to come into focus. How do we know who a character is if he doesn't act? How will you breathe life into him if he doesn't make any choices?

  While it's true that we all know people in real life who seem to drift along on the tide, never taking much initiative to affect their circumstances, we don't necessarily want to read about them. We're all familiar with the stereotype of the antisocial teen who hides out in her bedroom, but would you want to read a book about that person? Not only is it hard for the audience to figure out who she is, it's tough to invest in her journey because there's nothing she's looking to learn or accomplish.

  Active characters, on the other hand, are endlessly fascinating because we're always wondering what they'll do next. It's easy to feel as if we know them well, and when a reader feels like they know a character in the same way they know a real person, they'll invest in loving him, hating him, rooting for him, or laughing with him. Active characters shape the plot through the choices they make, and their desires create mirrored desires in the audience.

  As a writer, you have two very powerful tools for creating active characters: actions and dialogue. Active characters use plenty of both. They make choices, doing and saying things that lead to new choices and new actions, advancing the plot. Use these tools to your advantage. Give your characters plenty to say and do. Make them leap, make them dance, make them cry, and make them laugh. In short, make them live. You'll keep both your characters and your audience engaged in your story.

  USING ACTION TO DEFINE CHARACTER

  Contrary to what many people think, action isn't just about plot. Actions also reveal character. What a person does shows us who he is—not just who he says he is. We all know how this works in real life. How many of us had a classmate who was saccharine sweet on the outside but talked with an acid tongue as soon as someone else's back was turned? Do you remember the shy girl who never said a word, but when courage was needed she was the first one who stepped up? Or how about the popular guy who acted conceited until he was alone, then he couldn't stop talking about his little brothers and sisters?

  When we watch a person make choices, we're able to gauge many things about her. How passionately does she truly feel about something? Is she capable of sacrifice? Cowardice? Love? Maybe she's more afraid then she's letting on.

  The revelatory power of our actions is no less true in fiction. In fact, it's probably even more necessary on the page, where a story exists for only one reader at a time and there's no one to ask for a second opinion. The best example of this power is the use of the unreliable narrator. When an author uses this technique, the character is telling the audience one thing, but the audience is expected to come to a different conclusion based on the character's actions.

  How can this be accomplished? We do it by showing what a character does, not just what he says.

  In my book Saint Iggy, I used the unreliable narrator technique to create a portrait of a young man who is having a hard time figuring out his true nature. In the beginning of the book Iggy has just been kicked out of school, and he relates the story from a point of view that is distinctly his own, minimizing his role in causing the trouble and placing much of the blame squarely on others. However, the reader, being outside the situation, sees Iggy's actions in addition to his words and can question his version of events.

  Here's the account of his expulsion as related by Iggy in play format:

  Me: (coming in late to Spanish class because I followed a hot new girl) Can I sit here?

  Mrs. Brando: (confused) I think you have the wrong classroom.

  Me: (correctly) No, I'm in this class.

  Mrs. Brando: (really patronizing) Son, it is December and I have not seen you in this class even once before, so I don't know what classroom you are looking for. Are you new here, too?

  Me: (being real patient) Nooo, I am in this class and if you'd just check your list from the beginning of the year you'd see that, (under my breath really freaking quietly) Bitch.

  Mrs. Brando: (spazzing out) Are you threatening me? Do you have a weapon? Are you on drugs? Someone get the principal. Call security. Help! Help! Help!

  Even as Iggy tells his story, which is obviously highly dramatized, his actions give us a different sense of things. He's come in late to a class he doesn't really belong in and he calls the teacher a bitch. Although he's trying to tell us that the teacher was being unreasonable and patronizing, the audience doesn't quite buy it. Throughout the novel, Iggy oscillates between low self-esteem and grandiose ideas of what he can accomplish, and it's up to the reader to decide, based on the choices he makes, whether Iggy is ultimately a saint or a villain.

  If you are using the unreliable narrator technique, make sure your character's actions are not interpreted for the reader by the narrator. The most important element in creating this kind of character is trusting your reader to reach her own conclusions. Let your character's actions become the palette through which you, as the author, influence your audience.

  When your characters take action, their actions can speak louder than your words. In Saint Iggy, I deliberately made Iggy's actions ambiguous so the reader would have to question her definition of his character, but it's possible to make a character's motives quite clear as well. Want your tough guy to be a saint? Or your perfect student to be a villain? Show the reader what the character does and
he will see your character's true nature. Remember that a reader brings with him all of his own life experiences and most of us, by the time we reach our teenage years, have developed a good sense of human nature. We're capable of seeing what people do and, based on that, discerning a piece of who they are. No matter what, don't be afraid to let your reader use his judgment.

  DIALOGUE_

  Dialogue is another important tool for defining character. Teenagers don't act in a vacuum. They talk about their lives with their friends, family, teachers, and significant others. In fact, according to many parents, they talk, and talk, and talk. Just look at the average teen's cell phone bill! These conversations both shape and reveal who a person is. Like action, dialogue is a way for a character's true personality to show without you, as the author, having to explicitly state the message you're trying to get across. And unlike a deliberately stated explanation, dialogue draws a reader in.

  Imagine a teacher standing at the front of a packed classroom lecturing. After a while, the students start shifting in their seats and sneaking glances at their watches. Straight exposition can only hold our attention for so long. In a teen novel, that time period is mercilessly short.

  Dialogue, however, works in an entirely different manner. Imagine that same teacher standing in the hallway whispering to another teacher. Now they truly have your attention and they can hold it for a lot longer because of the "What ifs" created by the format. In dialogue we are constantly wondering what someone will say and how the other person will respond. Dialogue is unpredictable, which makes it fascinating.

  From a technical writing standpoint, dialogue also creates white space, which breaks up big blocks of exposition that might otherwise be tiresome and monotonous. Virginia Euwer Wolff said this about white space during an interview with The Horn Book:

  I myself am intimidated by huge pages of gray without any white space. I wanted the white space to thread through the story and give it room to breathe. That sounds a little pretentious but it's kind of what I meant to do. I wanted the friendliness of white space on a page.

  Dialogue is a great way to create space, inviting readers in and keep-ing the pace of your book sharp and quick. Let's look at how E.R. Frank uses dialogue in her novel America to draw you into the story. Here are a few lines from the beginning of the book between a character in a mental hospital and a nurse.

  "Step off," I tell this nurse when she tries to get me to eat.

  "You mean, thank you for caring," she says. "You're welcome."

  "I need a lighter," I tell her, and she goes, "You mean you want a lighter. Dream on, sweetheart."

  How the characters speak to each other gives us great insight into who they are. In just a few lines, we're able to see the main character as resentful and rebellious, and we understand the nurse to be caring yet firm, with a wry sense of humor. No one tells us this directly, but we're able to intuit it through what the characters say. At the same time, what they don't say invites us to ask questions about what's going on and what's brought each character to this place.

  By using dialogue, you can create an intimate tone, letting your audience feel as if they're overhearing something interesting, even while the main character withholds information that isn't revealed until the end of the book. Remember to use both the positive (what is said) and the negative (what isn't said) as you craft your conversations on the page. Read them aloud to make sure they sound natural, and inspect your pages to make sure there's plenty of white space in your manuscript. If you notice long, solid blocks of black print, chances are you don't have enough dialogue. Go back and give your characters a chance to speak!

  BODY LANGUAGE

  Body language is a combination of action and dialogue, and it can be a very powerful tool. When done well, body language can add a subtle layer underneath the overt action, enhancing what your characters are saying and doing, and giving your audience additional insight into the scene you're creating.

  We all read each other's body language in real life, so why not let it work for you in your fiction? That scowl you've seen flitting across your mother-in-law's face? Bring it to life on the face of your character's boss at the mall. The tension that creeps into your friend's shoulders every time she talks about her past? Study the way she reacts and use it to paint a picture for your readers that hints at something your character isn't revealing. Don't be afraid to let your characters itch, twitch, squirm, and squint.

  Here's how body language worked for me in this scene from Fat Kid Rules the World. In this passage the main character, three hundred-pound Troy Billings, is observing the reactions around him as his semi-homeless, usually hyper friend Curt, joins his ex-marine father and sports fanatic little brother for dinner. Watch how body language sets the stage, cementing the character dynamics before the conversation even begins.

  I sit next to the roast beef and mashed potatoes, and Dad passes the peas and bread. As usual, Dayle hogs the quart of milk. We wait for Curt to sit down, but he stands in the doorway looking nervous before sliding in next to Dayle. He folds his hands as if he's about to pray, looks up, notices we're not praying, and unfolds them guiltily. Dad glances at the clock to indicate that

  we've lingered too long, but he doesn't say anything. Just passes the bread to Curt.

  There's a lot of shuffling as the food gets passed and I sit back to watch the drama. It's twisted of me, I know, but I kind of enjoy the intense discomfort of it all. Everyone looks pained and for once I'm not the cause. Tonight, I am the most comfortable person in the room. I watch them all like a sociologist.

  First, there's Curt. I know Curt's uncomfortable because he's restrained. He doesn't show any excitement except in the corners of his eyes and he's very careful to sit still. His napkin falls off his lap repeatedly, and every time it does, he glares at it as if it's betrayed him. When he bends down to pick it up, he tries not to bend his body, as if that might count as too much movement. Soon he's engaged in an all-out secret battle with the napkin that culminates in a covert stabbing with his fork.

  Then there's Dad. I know Dad's uncomfortable because he doesn't speak. He limits himself to nods of encouragement or censure and keeps his posture perfect. This means he has to stifle his desire to correct Curt's posture, which is not perfect. Consequently, his grip on his knife tightens until his fingers turn completely white.

  And of course, there's Dayle. I know Dayle's uncomfortable because ... well, I wouldn't have known it if I hadn't seen him dish the roast beef, but as soon as he lifts the serving fork I know. He takes

  one portion instead of five even though he's desperate to gain weight, and he never once looks at Curt as he passes the tray.

  Curt, however, takes five helpings, then puts half of it back. Then he retakes half of the half he just put back.

  Dad takes a deep breath as the scene repeats itself with the mashed potatoes. And the peas. And the bread. Finally, Dad can't stand it any longer. He sets down his knife and turns to Curt.

  "So," he says. "Do you have a job?"

  See how the characters' mannerisms help us understand who they are and what they're feeling? Without having read any other part of this book, do you already have a sense of the personalities involved?

  Body language is a wonderful tool for rounding out a scene, making it both real and complex. Use it wisely and use it well. You'll soon find that your scenes take on a multidimensional quality they might have been lacking before.

  WORDS OF CAUTION_

  Body language and dialogue are two of the best ways to bring characters to life, but I would offer a few words of caution, especially regarding dialogue. Characters in books do not speak the same way people in real life speak. Most of us ramble, cutting off sentences in the middle and never getting back to them. We allow our train of thought to take us off the topic of conversation. Some of us might repeat the same actions, like twitching or blinking or scratching, far more than we're aware. We say "um," "like," and "you know" so often that we cease to hear th
em.

  If you've ever had to take dictation you understand what I mean. When you read through an actual transcript of a conversation it's nearly impossible to follow. While writers strive for realism, this is not something we want to emulate. Remember that dialogue is meant to reveal character, not writing prowess. The goal for any given scene is not to convince a reader you are the most talented mimic of all time. In fact, it's quite the opposite. In the best scenes the writer fades into the background so much so that the reader forgets the writer exists. The reader has suspended his disbelief to the point where he feels as if he is listening to a conversation between two real people. For this to happen, he can't be stumbling over words and sentences laden with "likes" and "urns" and he can't be fighting a nagging sense that no one really talks in such a polished, grammatically correct manner. You, as the author, must strike a balance.

  Dialogue, as well as first-person narrative (the "I" voice), is all about weighing what sounds real against what makes for clean reading. A good rule of thumb is that a little goes a long way. Do you feel your teen character would say "like" a lot? Well, one strategically placed "like" can have more impact than the more realistic dozens of uses because the flow of the text is not interrupted. The same can be applied to accents and regional words. Certainly people from different parts of the world speak differently, using unique slang and speech patterns, but trying to force too many examples of this into your writing can backfire, taking away from the intended effect. Dialogue is a powerful tool, but choose your characters' words wisely. Remember, writing is not about capturing speech verbatim—it's about using rhythm and word choice to capture the truth of what your characters say. How the words translate to the reader is more important than how they would sound in real life. To facilitate this, many authors read their dialogue