Lots of things on my mind as I look forward to Viable Paradise (less than a week to go!), not the least of which is wishing I didn’t have to present my research at a conference one week after VP ends. On the upside, I haven’t had much time to stress about VP. On the flipside, my brain is about to explode. Oh, and I’m sick of working on my research poster.

Dear reader, if you stumble across this blog post as a prospective VP student, and are looking for actual tips about the experience, you’re probably in the wrong place. This is my rambling, self-reflective post (sorry!). I may have some more useful posts to follow, and will try to remember to come back here to link to them.

For some reason I feel compelled to reflect on the events of the past year that have led up–like falling dominoes–to attending Viable Paradise next week. Community is a large part of that story. I recall vividly hanging out at the Green Bean coffeehouse in Greenwood when I ran across an announcement for a workshop with Mary Robinette Kowal at the Hugo House in November. I had just finished Shades of Milk and Honey and was feeling proactive about my writing and improving my craft. I flipped out a little over the cost (peanuts compared to what I’m shelling out for VP), hemmed, hawed, called up Andrew, he encouraged me to go for it, and I signed up for my very first writer’s workshop–a daylong course entitled “Writing on the Fast Track.” Very scary stuff.

So I went, and it was nice. We talked about Orson Scott Card’s M.I.C.E quotient. We did some exercises. We spent the last 90 minutes writing a story. And then when everyone was saying their goodbyes, a fellow workshop attendee mentioned her a co-writing group in South Lake Union, and invited people to drop by.

I womaned-up and went to the writers’ group a couple of weeks later. I was jittery with nerves and trying not to be terribly awkard. I probably failed in that, but it was fun enough that I kept going back. That was the beginning of my introduction to the spec fic writing community (thank you Liz!).

Fast forward six months or so. Hanging out with other writers had a huge and positive influence on how I felt about my writing, and I had my eye on the Viable Paradise workshop. Trouble was, my novel revisions were taking (are still taking) longer than expected. My draft wasn’t where I wanted it to be, not to mention I didn’t really have the time or money to attend something like VP.

I also fretted that I was making up excuses for myself, finding reasons not to apply to the workshop because I feared rejection. I mean really, I’m a Ph.D. student. It’s not like the time/money excuse is going away any time soon. I have neither. So I applied to the workshop at the last minute, whipped up a sucky synopsis in a couple of hours, biked over to the post office just before it closed to FedEx my application packet in. I was almost hoping I didn’t get in (that time/money thing again), but at least I would know I tried. Long story not so short, I did get in, and I was so caught up in the excitement of it that I couldn’t not go at that point.

And finally, I can’t say enough good things about Twitter. I would be terrified right now if I hadn’t already connected with some of my future classmates through Twitter. I really like these people, and am excited to meeting them in person and spending a week hanging out and writing and learning about writing. It has totally changed my perspective on the workshop. So let’s do this.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about how to get the most out of my VP experience, and whether I have specific questions for the veeps about my manuscript. Here’s the short list I came up with:

• Does my book feel YA or adult?

  I’ve been going back and forth on this one. In some cases, the YA/adult split is clear cut. Most people will cite age of protagonist (young) and theme (coming-of-age/discovery) as the hallmarks of YA, but I am not convinced that’s all there is to it. For instance, Lev Grossman’s The Magicians versus the later Harry Potter books. One is adult, the other YA. Same themes, same aged characters, different shelf of the bookstore, different agent to query, different query letter to write. Another example I’ve heard (though I haven’t read either of these books) is Fat Kid Rules the World (YA) versus Rose of No Man’s Land (adult).

  I considered the hypothesis that the inclusion of multiple viewpoint characters could serve as a signal you’re dealing with an adult book (not a defining characteristic per se, but more of a consequence of the other bits). In contrast, in YA the story should focus entirely on the protagonist, and thus be told only from his or her perspective. I asked a literary agent just this question in an #AskAgent event she held on her blog, and she disagreed. I appreciate the points she made, and at the same time I’m still puzzling over those books that are fuzzy on the age/theme convention. Dear reader, if you know of any YA books that have multiple viewpoint characters, please please please comment below. I’ve been wracking my brains for months on this!

  So here’s my new working hypothesis, courtesy of author and former lit agent Nathan Bransford:

  To me the separation between YA and Adult is not necessarily thematic, it has more to do with pacing and presentation. When you read a YA novel the pace tends to be quicker, the books tend to be shorter, and things happen in a more straightforward fashion. While of course there is a ton of variation and exceptions, things tend to unfold on the surface to keep a younger reader interested and engaged. In an adult novel, even an adult novel about high schoolers, things unfold more slowly, there tends to be more subtlety and ambiguity. Things happen beneath the surface and they can be more challenging. In other words, I think the YA/Adult split is more about the telling than the characters and the themes.

  Honestly, I’m not entirely sure whether the tone and pacing of my novel comes down on the YA or adult side. So (note to self), I need to ask every beta reader whether they think my book feels YA or adult. I would hate for my book to be rejected purely because I’m targeting the wrong agents or publishers.

• How do I create emotional resonance? (Don’t say create compelling conflict.)

  I spend a lot of time thinking about how to immerse the reader in my story. I’ve heard it said that the first step towards evoking an emotional response is to create compelling conflict. I think I’ve been pretty careful about constructing each scene around conflict that matters, but sometimes the scenes still fall flat. What are some other techniques?

• (And now for the vague one) In my opening scene, would it be more believable if my character did that thing she does without her father’s knowledge or permission?

So I suppose all that’s left to do is pack my bags and buy rolls of quarters for the laundry machines at Viable Paradise. I’ll be selling them to the Canadians at 500% markup (Shhhh, don’t tell).