Writing Young Adult Fiction For Dummies

by Deborah Halverson

  becomes

  Aslon hefted the sword. Too heavy. He laid it back down.

  Most of the time, the fewer words, the better. There’s no formal ruling on the italics, though. An alternative style forsakes italics altogether and assigns a dialogue tag:

  This is going nowhere, he thought.

  You don’t need the tag for direct thoughts if you use italics, but if you think a tag is necessary for a rhythmic beat, by all means include it. Note that just like spoken dialogue, direct thoughts are written in present tense even when the rest of the book is written in past tense.

  Sometimes writers run into problems trying to distinguish between direct and indirect thoughts in a first-person narrative. Think of indirect thoughts as “narrative insights” rather than direct transcriptions of the thought. I’ve italicized the direct thoughts here, with the roman parts being indirect thoughts:

  First person: The new kid gave me the creeps. Not on my watch, buddy.

  Third-person limited: The new kid gave her the creeps. Not on my watch, buddy.

  Omniscient: The new kid gave her the creeps. She couldn’t imagine who he thought he was, coming in there like he owned the place. Not on my watch, buddy.

  Feel like you’re doing some mind reading? Good. That’s what direct thoughts offer readers: a chance to read the character’s mind. If only you could do that in real life.

  Part III

  Editing, Revising, and Formatting Your Manuscript

  In this part . . .

  You’ve completed draft one of your young adult novel. Now what? Draft two!

  Oh, stop with the groaning. Revision is important — it’s how you take your manuscript to the next level, where you tweak it and buff it and shine it up like a new penny, making all that hard work on draft one worth it. Finding the shine may take two drafts, or it may take four, but as every successful writer can tell you, it will definitely take more than one. This part is all about the revision process — what you can do on your own, when to call in the cavalry, and how to clean the whole thing up for submission to agents and editors.

  Chapter 11

  Editing and Revising with Confidence

  In This Chapter

  Evaluating your own manuscript

  Seeking outside input and weighing criticism

  Revising constructively and fearlessly

  Expect to write several drafts of your YA fiction. That’s part of the writing process. And expect your first draft to be as homely as a mud fence. That’s part of the process, too. In its early stages, creativity is messy. Even celebrated masters churn out frightful first drafts that barely resemble their final, polished gems.

  This reality can be discouraging, I know, but take heart. Ungainly early drafts don’t mean you’ve ruined your great concept. Rather, they mean you took the first step in turning that concept into a strong story. The manuscript will evolve. This chapter is about that evaluation process and the rewriting that results. I tell you how to assess your story through a combination of self-editing and outside critiques, and then I explain how to formulate a specific revision plan and act on it with confidence.

  Self-Editing, Where Every Revision Begins

  You can’t rewrite, or revise, your manuscript until you know what specifically needs revising — and you can’t know that until you’ve analyzed your finished manuscript and then brainstormed ways to improve its weaknesses and enhance its strengths. Even if you plan to have others read and respond to your finished draft, you need to self-edit the manuscript first. The time to show your manuscript to others is when you can’t see obvious changes anymore.

  The read-through: Shifting your mindset from writing to editing

  Effective self-editing requires as much objectivity about your manuscript as you can muster. That means doffing your writer’s cap and donning your reader’s beanie so you can read your manuscript as an outsider would. Here are some tips for making that switch:

  Set aside your manuscript for a while. The length of that “while” is your call. Some writers feel they can come at a story with fresh eyes after a couple of weeks. Others need a couple of months to feel like they’re outside the story instead of immersed within it.

  Mimic the book-reading experience. Get as close to a printed-book feel as possible. Print out your manuscript (double-spaced to leave room for notes), punch holes in the side, and mount it in a three-ring binder. Heck, get the manuscript spiral-, strip-, or comb-bound at your local copy shop.

  If you’re tech-savvy, you may be inclined to read your manuscript on an e-reader or PDA, which lets you upload your files, insert highlights and notes in the text, and then export the notes as a text file on your computer. Resist this urge. Get away from screen-reading altogether so your reading experience is completely different from your writing experience. Coming at your manuscript with a fresh eye is difficult, so give yourself as much help as you can.

  Read the manuscript someplace comfy but unfamiliar. If you’ve trained yourself to want to write as soon as you step into your writing space, being an objective reader there will be tough. Get out of your writing space when you self-edit. Go someplace entirely different. Imagine you have a full tank of gas, a several-hour block of time, and a brand-new hardcover from your favorite YA author. Where would you go to lose yourself in that special book?

  Read and make notes but don’t rewrite yet. If you stop and try to rewrite during this phase, you lose your chance to evaluate the overall pacing. Just mark problem places in the margins as you read, circle things that catch your eye, and jot down a list of tasks as they occur to you, general or specific: “work on dialogue; feels stiff overall,” “boring exchange; move characters outside the house and have others interrupt,” “give Lucy a backpack.” For tips on what to look for, see the following sections. A double-spaced manuscript has ample room for line-specific notes, and you can make the general notes in your handy-dandy writing notebook. (More on keeping a master writing notebook in Chapter 3.)

  When you’re ready to start making changes, go through your notes to prioritize the items and then formulate your plan of attack.

  Create a revision list that you can work through item by item during several different passes through the manuscript. Prioritize your revision list so that big-picture items (such as character, plot, and setting work) are first, followed by smaller items (such as language tweaks). You want to start big and finish small to avoid revising specific sentences that may be completely omitted when you fix a bigger problem. For more info on rewriting, see the later section “Revising with Confidence.”

  Self-editing checklist

  When you report to your comfy but unfamiliar reading space, refer to this self-editing checklist. The following questions help you determine not only where the story needs improvement but also what those weaknesses indicate craftwise so you can strategize ways to address them. Look back into the craft chapters of this book (Part II) for ways to improve what you find lacking in any of these areas:

  Characters: Is your protagonist empowered with the resolution of her own problem? Does her core strength overcome her key flaw to influence this outcome? Does she demonstrate that she has what it takes to prevail? Your protagonist has a story to carry, so make sure you can answer “yes” to all these questions.

  Do you write against stereotype or offer surprising traits in your secondary characters? Does your bad guy have strengths and ambitions, too? These elements make your supporting cast as rich and interesting as your lead character.

  What youthful traits have you given your characters? Are your teen/tween characters grandiose and self-centered enough? Do you rely too heavily on statements to reveal your characters, or do you work in plenty of prop manipulations?

  Plot: Pay attention to the following elements of plot:

  • Opening: Do you
start in the midst of action that reveals something about your protagonist’s predicament, personality, and dreams?

  • General: Does each scene in each chapter contribute to the chapter’s overall goal? Can you cut any scenes? Do you need another scene? Does each obstacle push the plot and characters further?

  Is the power in the teen protagonist’s hands and not an adult’s? Is the protagonist’s epiphany clear and powerful enough? Has the protagonist made enough of a change?

  Have you foreshadowed all surprises and resolved all subplots?

  • Tension and pacing: Does your mind wander during the reading? Where? Is enough at stake then? Are the consequences of failure dire enough? Are there rich moments of teen drama as the tension increases? Do you force your character far enough out of his comfort zone during crucial moments?

  How much white space do you have? Are your paragraphs large, or do you break them frequently, creating lots of little paragraphs? Have you employed paragraphing and spacing techniques to affect the pace at desired moments?

  • Info dumps: Do any of your characters use phrases that indicate telling instead of showing (“as you know” or “like I told you” or “remember?”)? How much backstory made it into the book? Can you trim any of it?

  Have you included too much minutiae in the actions? Are you reporting characters’ moods and motivations instead of letting readers deduce them from character behavior?

  Setting: Have you let your setting influence what characters say and how they act in each scene? Have you found any slow scenes that may benefit from a new location? Is there enough variety in your locations?

  Do the characters interact with props in every scene? Can you specify what that interaction reveals? Do you see opportunities to substitute more-revealing prop interactions?

  Does the main character have a retreat? What would happen if you didn’t let him go there?

  Have you invoked at least three physical senses in each chapter? If there are descriptive passages longer than three or four sentences, can you trim them? Do you need to create more of a sense of place in the revision?

  Narrative voice: How many 50-cent words does the narrator use? Is that the right amount for your audience? Is it the appropriate amount for your narrator and your narrative style?

  If you have a young narrator, is his syntax deliberately improper when appropriate? Does the narrator exaggerate as a teen would? Have you struck a distinct teen tone? Circle and replace all clichés.

  Are the narrator’s observations youthful enough? Does your point-of-view character have access to all the information he needs to tell the story?

  Language mechanics: Do you use contractions to add youth to and relax the voice? How about loose grammar? Has too much slang slipped in? Are you overmodifying with too many adverbs and adjectives?

  Do you use active, evocative verbs? Can you identify any instances of passive voice? Do you frequently attach action phrases that start with the word as to your dialogue tags, making them long and unwieldy?

  Are your paragraphs overburdened with commas, semicolons, and dashes, or do the paragraphs incorporate enough simple, brief, and direct sentences? Do the sentences within each paragraph begin the same way, or do you vary them? Do any sentences meander? Do you repeat yourself? Are you going on and on about anything?

  Dialogue: Does your dialogue work with the narrative around it to characterize and to convey plot developments? Is your dialogue plagued by too much fact-delivery and plot work? Does your dialogue reveal things about the characters? What does it reveal?

  Do you let your characters talk past each other or evade questions, creating a more realistic feel? Do your characters blurt things out now and then, getting themselves deeper in trouble? Do they interrupt, fragment, and trail off to create variety, tension, and drama? Do you let characters get upset with each other, or do they play it safe by avoiding confrontation? Do the teens talk about themselves and how everything affects them?

  Is your dialogue all statements, or do your characters sometimes talk in questions for variety? Is your dialogue filled with slang that will adversely date your story?

  Do you have generic actions between bits of dialogue, or do you present rich sensory moments instead? Does every line of dialogue have a dialogue tag? Do none? Or have you created rhythm by balancing dialogue tags and narrative beats that make the speaker’s identity, actions, and moods clear without a speaking verb?

  Double-check your word count. Although there’s no law about how many words can be in a novel for young readers, middle grade fiction typically falls between 25,000 and 45,000 words, and teen fiction hovers between 40,000 and 60,000. If you’re significantly over the range for your category, try to cut scenes or tighten your wording. If you’re significantly under the word count, look for opportunities to productively and positively expand the story, such as adding character-building and plot-forwarding scenes, adding more dialogue and white space, or expanding the sense of place. Ultimately, a story takes as long as it takes to be told, word count be damned. Consider Karen Cushman’s Newbery Medal–winning middle grade novel The Midwife’s Apprentice, which has just 22,000 words. Don’t put yourself in the position of defending an unusual word count unless you’re sure it’s the final word count for you.

  Calling in the Posse: The Give and Take of Critiquing

  When you can no longer see obvious weaknesses in your manuscript, that’s the time to call in the posse for a critique. A critique is a critical evaluation of your manuscript — concept, target audience, character, plot, voice, setting, word choice . . . the whole shebang. Find out whether others agree that you’ve done everything you intended to do with the story. You’d be wise to get at least one critique, if not a handful from a variety of sources, because others can see what you’ve become blind to in your self-editing.

  Critiques can come from agents and editors at conferences, from freelance editors, from your buddies in the writing trenches, and from young readers. I leave the conference critiques for Chapter 18 because they’re an integral part of the conference experience. Here, you get the skinny on the freelancers, fellow writers, and teens.

  You have the right to privately accept or reject any comment made about your manuscript, be it from a critique group member, a paid freelance editor, a publishing editor or agent at a conference, a well-intentioned friend or sweetheart, or a real, honest-to-goodness young reader. At times, the feedback may not apply because it reflects personal preferences and styles. Use several critique sources (including, yes, rejection letters if those are involved) to see whether common items keep cropping up. Those are red flags that you have areas in need of attention.

  Participating in a critique group

  A great way to get that vital extra pair of eyes on your manuscript is to take part in a YA-fiction critique group. You share your manuscript (in part or in full) with other YA writers who agree to critique your story’s effectiveness for your target audience and your writing in general, and then you reciprocate by critiquing their manuscripts. (Chapter 2 helps you identify your target audience based on age, gender, and genre.)

  Every critique group has its own way of operating. You can meet in person for a read-and-critique (R&C) session wherein everyone reads and responds to portions of the manuscript on the spot (this version works best with excerpts of ten pages or less). Or you can attach your manuscript to an e-mail and send that to your group, with the reviewers replying via e-mail for all to see or embedding their comments within the manuscript and then sending it back to you. Or you can post your manuscript in a private online chat group, letting the other members post their responses for the entire group to consider and build upon.

  Your group may have regular, scheduled critique sessions, or you may opt for a more open format, with each member submitting material for critique whenever she feels she needs it. I know so
me writers who share only complete drafts when those are ready, limiting their critique commitments while still enjoying the benefits of outside input.

  Whether you join an established group or create your own crew, your critique group should reflect your style of working, your time constraints, and your specific writing needs. In this section, I give advice on finding a group and on giving and receiving feedback.

  Finding other writers

  You can join an established critique group, or you can form one of your own. I give advice on both in this section.

  Joining an established group

  Joining a critique group that’s been in operation for a while lets you get in with people who’ve already worked out the kinks of how a critique group works. You can tap in to established groups in a number of ways:

  Asking writers you’ve met: As you network with other YA-fiction writers at conferences or in your local writers’ group meetings, you may hit it off with others who share your tastes and personality. Ask these writers whether their critique groups have openings or are looking to expand.

  Checking online writers’ forums: Online writers’ forums provide opportunities for joining established critique groups, either by developing relationships with members in the forum or through a formalized critique program.

  Doing an online search: Type “YA critique group” in your search engine and narrow down your choices from there, looking for regions, genres, and group styles that work for you.

  Forming your own group

  Before you approach anyone about starting a new critique group, have a good idea of the kind of group you want. Do you want to limit the group to your genre or to just middle grade fiction or just teen fiction, or do you want to keep it open to all young adult fiction, any genre? Do you want to meet in person and do on-the-spot critiques, or do you prefer your dealings to be online? Your preferences determine whom you invite into the group, and the potential members get to judge the style and demands of the group before they commit.