Riptide

This weekend, I read a YA novel (Young Adult novel) called Riptide by Lindsey Scheibe. I picked it up at the Writers' League Conference in Austin two weeks ago, and cracked it open for a light summer read as I curled up in bed. I teach a university course on coming-of-age themes, so YA literature is more than a "guilty pleasure."(Oh that I could teach a course on wine-tasting.)

http://www.amazon.com/dp/0738735949

Riptide was not a light summer romance, which is what I thought it might be from the cover. It's a story of two teens, best friends who have fallen in love but, for several reasons, can't bring themselves to submit to their feelings. Grace Parker surfs to forget about her troubled home life and her confusing feelings for her best friend, Ford. And Ford is entangled in a tricky employment situation with Grace's father, which prevents him from confessing his love to Grace. Both Grace and Ford narrate alternating chapters. Perfect setup for a book for teens.

I couldn't put the book down for long. Literally. When I needed to take my son somewhere, I put the book in my purse so I could read it at Jules' tennis lesson or the car wash or the grocery story checkout line. I am not kidding. I even pulled it from my purse at red lights so I could read a few sentences. That's kind of embarrassing to admit. This is not literary fiction. It's full of surf jargon, teen angst, and "whatev"s. It's about how teens are cruel to one another, competitive to a flaw, and how, despite our feminist advancements, both girls and boys still see each other in (and limited by) the gender-constructs of the past. But that is one reason why I couldn't get my paws off the book. I was a teenager again, feeling those angsty emotions, in spite of the safe-calm of my current life.

The other reason is this: Grace is in an abusive situation at home, and the tension is cable-tight. I knew things were going to be okay in the end, but I needed to see Grace's decision, the one that would free her. And the end of the book was satisfying. All the little plot lines didn't magically resolve, and some were left stranded. But they needed to be abandoned. That's the point of the book. Sometimes we abandon things to make the right decision in life.

Teenagers who speak their own dialect are not stupid. Teenagers who suffer indecision and inconsistency are psychologically normal. Intense angst over romance/love does feature prominently in the lives of many (of not most) teens. And, unfortunately, so do "issues." One in every four girls will be sexually abused by the time she's 18, according to the Dallas Children's Advocacy Center. Imagine how many others suffer from physical (beating) abuse and neglect. These are the unfortunate ones that I wrote about in a previous post. Books like Riptide tap into the heart of the unfortunate readers, those who have secrets, shame, and fear. Someone else suffers. Someone else has found a way to not only survive, but to find real love. And books like Riptide give those "fortunate" readers--those who have never suffered abuse--a gift that will enlarge their souls: compassion.

Writers' League of Texas Love

I attended the Agents and Editors Writers' League of Texas Conference in Austin this past weekend, and boy did it deliver. I wanted to write about the conference as soon as I flew home, but other exciting things (including Neil Gaiman's Dallas reading and my cover reveal) jumped the gun (and there's this other thing called "putting my house on the market," which exhausted the living daylights out of me). But better late than never, huh?

First of all, if you're a writer, you need to become a member of the Writers' League of Texas. Even though I'm in Dallas and the majority of the events are in or around Austin, I find the membership's incredible network (filled with smart, compassionate people) well worth the annual fees. And there's this conference. This conference!

I didn't even think to take a lot of pictures. I was too busy taking notes and meeting other writers and agents. Frankly, friends, I haven't even had time to craft emails to some of the agents who requested full manuscripts. (*Jots note that I Must Do This tonight.)

You don't go to conferences like this expecting to leave with five agents begging to represent you.  There are a few things you should expect to do:

1. You have to Shed the Shy and talk to people. It's a veritable gold-mine of writers there--some who are genuinely nice and will become published sooner than you can forget them, and conferences are the best places to make meaningful, lasting connections that last for years.

2. Be curious. Ask other people what they're writing and ask them questions about things you don't understand. The enormously talented (and adorable) Nikki Loftin teaches me this every time I see her. (Side Note: Nikki is going to be a star in Children's Literature. A huge, bright star. Mark my words.) She encourages writers and helps those whom she's read and admires. Writing and publishing can be a lonely, cut-throat, impossible business, and people like Nikki prove that the opposite can be true, too.

3. Be confident and mannerly when you approach agents to pitch them your idea. I did this most of the time. But good God, I didn't have my inner editor on when I approached one agent and told him he looked like Paul Rudd. (cringe)  I love Paul Rudd, so this "compliment" kind of fell out of my mouth and into my wine glass. Thank God I didn't say "I love Paul Rudd!" That would have been even more awkward. He took my unsolicited comparison graciously enough, but I still... (cringe).

4. Go to Sarah Davies's panel (Greenhouse Literary Agency). She is brilliant. That is all.


I was finally able to meet/see in person the dynamic duo Cythnia Leitich Smith and Greg Leitich Smith. More good people who are talented and kind and probably hide superpowers, with everything they do. I also made a friend, Amanda Coffin (hi, Amanda!), and we talked about writing and other things for hours and ate sushi.

Amanda and me

The panels at the conference were expertly run, the munchies were filling, the coffee was mmmm, and as far as this attendee knows, everything went like clockwork. I'll definitely be back next year. Kudos and huzzahs to The Writers' League of Texas.

Now go join.