From Adult to YA: Crime to Kids by Theo Gangi

I'm really pleased to have here today one of my favorite writers, he's such a favorite of mine that I acquired his debut novel Bang, Bang. Theo Gangi is an exciting writer. His characters are honest, daring and very human. His writing has equal parts muscle and heart. Theo is also one of the smartest writers I know and I so enjoy talking to him about literature and life. He's passionate about all things, and he injects this same passion into his work making his books an edge-of-your-seat pleasure. So without further ado, I'll step out of the way. Let's welcome Theo.--Stacey

When you’re 19 years old and you go out to a bar, you hope you don’t get carded. When you’re 34, you hope you do. The way we relate to our own ages undergoes many facelifts. Teenagers often brag about their ‘old souls’, while the middle-aged are proud to be ‘young at heart’. No matter how many birthdays we’ve celebrated, we want to be any age but our own.

One of the perks of writing works of fiction is an outlet for fanciful desires. Draw a character, and jump into his or her shoes, or his or her age. When I was in my mid-twenties, the protagonist of my crime thriller Bang, Bang was 38 years old. Why make Izzy 38? I honestly couldn’t say. I didn’t know anyone who was 38. I had no real personal insight into the mind-set of a man two years away from 40. It sounded like a good age to be tired enough of whatever you were doing in life to stop doing it (in Izzy’s case, robbing drug dealers). 38 sounded grizzled and world weary, and likely just enough distance from my own age so that I couldn’t possibly confuse my protagonist with my self.


Seems only right that now that I’m in my mid–thirties, I’m subtracting years instead of adding them. I keep thinking 11 or 13. I’m drawn to odd years rather than even. There is again enough distance from my own age to make the character a separate creation. I’m less romantic about the veiled, edgy dangers of the real world, and more prone to nostalgia. I’d rather spend time with good kids with good hearts than lost causes and small-time drug dealers.

As I read and reread young adult novels,  

certain characters, scenes and dynamics would trigger almost physical memories. Good YA has the power to recall moments that moved your world when you were a child, like Harry Potter’s first birthday cake, or when Bambi was running away, the gunshot fired and you knew (spoiler) that Bambi’s mother was gone forever. A YA novel can make even an adult reader more vulnerable to its story, as the tales recall a time when we were more vulnerable to life. Every experience was newer, more magical, and more devastating. I don’t remember when my parents had that dreaded conversation with me about death. I’m sure they did; they had to. But I do remember when faceless hunters shot Bambi’s mother dead.

It wouldn’t surprise me if most of our earliest exposures to death were presented to us through the fictional lens of our favorite young stories. Kids grow at such a rapid clip, and the stories they digest serve a more vital developmental purpose. They see their heroes leave home, confront their fears, and return stronger—almost a psychological metaphor for getting through 3rd grade. A child’s responsibilities are to read, experience and learn. They aren’t’ reading as downtime from their jobs, right before they pay the house bills. They aren’t taking a break from life when they read; they are living it.

One of my old favorites was a Japanese manga (though I didn’t know that term then) called The Lone Wolf and Cub. It was the story of a father and son, roaming feudal Japan as the baby cart assassin. Something in those stories has influenced most everything I’ve written in one obscure way or another. That feeling of complete immersion is what I’m trying to replicate when I tell any story. I recall those books as a waypoint for my writing. The old style ink-penned, black and white art of the father and son resonates to this day. I even pick up a charcoal stick and draw them from time to time.

Theo Gangi is the author of the breakout crime thriller Bang Bang. His stories have been anthologized in First Thrills, edited by Lee Child, The Greensboro Review, The Columbia Spectator and the Kratz Sampler. His articles and reviews have appeared in Buzzfeed.com, The San Francisco Chronicle, Mystery Scene Magazine, Inked Magazine and Crimespree Magazine. A graduate of Columbia University’s Masters in Fine Arts program, he teaches at St. Francis College and lives in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn. You can find him online at: http://www.theogangi.com/index.html

On Children's Books--Award Winners

On Monday, ALA announced the winners of the most prestigious awards in children's books. It's an announcement children's publishing people anticipate all year long. There's a lot of pomp and circumstance and general good cheer. Authors whose names have been bandied about as potential winners don't often sleep the night before wondering if their phone will ring at some ungodly hour--The Call. Their publishers would have contributed to this restless night before THE announcements by asking to confirm their telephone numbers.

Getting THE call that you have won an ALA award can be life-changing for many authors and put them in a different bracket of author than they had been in previously. Suffice it to say, ALA Awards are a big freakin' deal. For the editors and agents and publishers, it's also a validation of tastes and all the work that goes into a book before it appears on a shelf. It's a time we get to pat ourselves on the back and sigh with relief that someone noticed all our toiling away. Yes, awards are nice.

For me as an editor, especially this year, it was also an opportunity to hear about many wonderful books I had not previously heard about or gotten a chance to check out because my head was always buried in a manuscript. The morning of these award announcements is a great time to raise my head and look around. And while many great books I'd heard of and read were recognized, there were many others I had been hearing about for the very first time. This is what's great about these awards. Even when busy editors aren't paying attention, you can bet busy librarians are. So of the award winners, those I'm most eager to check out that are new to me are:

Newbery Honoree

Morris Award Honoree

Odyssey Award Winner

Printz Award Honoree

And I'm so thrilled for a book I was most familiar with and just loved, loved, loved:

Stonewall Award Winner

For a full listing of the Awards:  http://www.ala.org/news/press-releases/2014/01/american-library-association-announces-2014-youth-media-award-winners

On Craft--Consistency of Theme

One of my favorite parts of the editorial process is the way narratives are enriched just via regular old conversation. This may sound strange at first. After all, isn't it expected that authors would talk to their editor? Yes, but conversations between editors and authors don't often happen until after an editor has done the work of going through a manuscript line-by-line and turned around an editorial letter. And the conversation at that point is often a brief check-in with the author before the author heads off into revision land for a few weeks or months. Ultimately, because of the ease of technology, I think we often forget to talk to each, voice-to-voice no matter what the task or collaborative project or relationship. Email just becomes easy. And then add to that social media making us feel like we are seeing and talking to each other often even when we aren't; it's not hard to understand how voice-to-voice contact could be left behind. I know people who don't even use voicemail anymore and eschew telephone conversations...okay, I'm one of them.  Texting tends to be my primary mode of conversation even with those closest to me.

And not because I don't enjoy talking to my friends or colleagues on the phone, but in the day-to-day grind, efficiency becomes paramount and I don't often even realize how much I'm missing that voice-to-voice connection, especially with my authors, until a day like today when I spend 45 minutes on the phone with an author I not only love working with because she's so talented, but is also someone whom I adore personally. We spent at least half the time on the phone today catching up on our respective families and laughing a lot.

And then we got down to the business at hand, last round revisions, meaning this author is one step away from being publication-ready after going through several rounds of revision. She's so close and we both found ourselves energized by being so close. How do we know she's close? The characterization is strong (as both a reader and editor I really care about these characters--they mean something to me as if they were real people); the pacing is well-executed and the book reads as if the author wrote the narrative in one effortless breath; the conflict is compelling and not something easily or neatly solved; the writing is memorable; the conclusion satisfying. So what's left you might ask? One never knows. What's left when all the must-haves for any novel are all in place actually differs from project to project and it's often in this final conversation where author and editor find out what's left.

Today's "what's left" happened to be consistency of theme, which ranged from something as minor as ensuring the main character's dog wasn't forgotten by the narrative to something slightly more complicated like ensuring the idea that a character is struggling with the concept of unfulfilled dreams doesn't suddenly appear in the last third of the narrative without being developed and consistently so earlier in the narrative. And in this examination of craft there is also another pitch for outlining--and not just outlining plot points or character growth but use of theme, clarifying for yourself how you want themes and their accompanying details to develop and appear in the narrative and to make sure it's done purposefully and seamlessly (we don't want to be heavy-handed with narrative themes, but we also don't want themes to be too subtle to resonate or awkwardly introduced too late into the narrative.)

Forgetting to properly integrate themes is a common craft concern, especially for my seat-of-the-pants writers out there. But clearly establishing the themes you want to explore in a narrative and always having those themes at the forefront of your mind when writing character descriptions, scene details and dialogue will save you from having to go back and rework everything to ensure themes read as a seamless part of your narrative's foundation. It's not impossible to revise for theme and make it feel seamless after the fact, but it's a lot harder and can involve a great deal of dismantling and rebuilding of narrative elements you are by now married to. Even if it's heavy-handed to start, it's easier to peal away layers than it is to build those layers. So today's advice on craft? Go into your narrative not only with a mind on character and story, but theme as well. Make it an organic part of your narrative from word one. You'll thank me in the revision process later. Here's hoping your "what's left" is little more than the words The End.

In the News--How I stopped Procrastinating

The New York Times opinion piece "How I Stopped Procrastinating" caught my eye last week. I shared it not only with EG members, but with my friends. It was really just an FYI of an article I found interesting, but I got a wide variety of responses, running the gamut from one friend who joked (but not really) "Why are you judging me?" to another who said simply, "But isn't this the Artist's Way? Hmm..." All the responses made me laugh (kindly) at my particular group of friends in one way or another and laugh at myself, especially the last comment. Because yes, yes, this is The Artist's Way. The idea of finding time to write, writing consistently and writing even when you don't feel like it and what you know you're writing isn't very good. I take my friend's point--that these lessons offered in this opinion piece aren't new, but that doesn't mean we all, especially, those of us who write and do so while raising families or working full-time jobs, don't need the reminder or the inspiration of someone who did it! Managed everything life throws at us, fought the good fight and still walked away with a book. Writing is hard and the very thought of writing and still managing life and all its challenges and still being able to write, still being able to produce is a personal story of triumph I'm happy to see again and again and again. Let's normalize it. It helps to know others are out there doing what we are doing or what we want to do and that in and of itself cuts down on the procrastination, lifts us up and motivates us until we're across that finish line ourselves. And perhaps this resonated with me also because I am a master procrastinator. So I understand procrastination often comes out of a feeling of inability--there's so much to do, so much you want to do that it overwhelms. How can you get it all done or do any of it well. The feeling paralyzing. Stories like these get me moving again, allow me to shake off the paralysis and remember what moving forward looks like, reminds me to keep moving forward even when I don't think I know how or when I don't think I'm able. This opinion piece is exactly The Artists's Way--a success story. And I for one don't think hearing about the success of writers can ever feel repetitive.


Consider this post this week's Sunday Inspiration/In The News two-for-one. I promise I didn't miss yesterday's inspiration post because I was procrastinating. ;-)

Stacey

Revision, and Revision, and Revision by Susan Arscott

Excuse me Will, but I’ve got my own spin on this soliloquy

A Shameless Rewrite

Revision, and revision, and revision,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of my YA novel;
And all my earlier work has lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, bad sentence!
A writer’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his angst upon the page,
And then is read no more. It is a tale
Writ by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.


With apologies to Shakespeare for my bastardization of Macbeth’s haunting soliloquy (only Shakespeare could make repetition sound so gorgeous) as a way to express most writers’ gloomy attitude as they begin their revisions. Even those of us who feel energized by revision (I include myself in this disgustingly cheerful bunch) can’t help but sigh at the amount of work they must do as they start on page 1 of their 300-page manuscript.

However, it is only through revision that we can make our writing shine. I wish I could compose an amazing piece of fiction first draft, but I can’t. If you are one of those, please know that I hate you and want to knock you severely about the head and shoulders, because I, unfortunately, am not that talented.

You wrote that in one sitting? Take that, you show off.

And because of my lack of initial brilliance, I have become quite the master of revision, hence this post. If you, like me, dump everything into your first draft then you, too, must revise. The key to this process (described below) is to separate yourself from your manuscript; doing so allows you to return to it with fresh eyes and new ideas on how to improve.

When I finished my first draft of The End of Normal, formerly known as The Threshing (I know, awful right?), I set it aside for a bit in order to let it stew, and perhaps for me to get stewed a time or two. Anyway, after giving both my manuscript and myself a breather, I began rereading and revising with the help of my MFA mentors. I rinsed and repeated this step until I thought it was ready for an opinion outside of my MFA program. I gave my manuscript to a couple of friends, and yes, a couple of relatives (believe me when I tell you that my mother hated it and didn’t even try to lie) with instructions to be honest, which they were, bordering on the precipice of brutality. After getting back their comments, I made changes and foolishly thought, “Eureka, I’m ready to submit this sucker.”

I was wrong. I sent it to three agents I met at a conference. One immediately shot me down. The other two actually spent the time to send me lengthy emails about the problems with my manuscript. At that point (end of January 2013) I sent my book to an editor for a professional edit and critique. Good ones are expensive, but they are worth it. Professional editors help you pinpoint the problems so you can either once again revise or toss the whole thing out and start on something new.

The person editing my book wasn’t in love with my story and didn’t encourage me to submit it to anyone; she was more into NA romance than my upper middle grade science adventure. Despite her lack of enthusiasm, she pointed out numerous really dumb things I’d done and helped me come up with ideas to fix them. To give you an idea of how much my first draft changed to the final, I’ve got the first part of both for your edification, or more likely, your little bit of daily humor.

First revision of the first paragraphs of The Threshing:

Sitting under the jagged ruins of what once was a concrete overpass in one of the largest cities in the world, I look at the others slumped against curved concrete walls, together yet apart. It’s odd that we still find comfort being together. I guess it’s a human thing. But even though we come together at night, we remain strangers. We share space in concrete cave but nothing of ourselves. It’s easier.

As I look at the others’ faces crusted with layers of dirt and grime, I wonder if they, like me, long to be back in our old world. To be back to the way things were before the Threshing. Our strange alien masters tell us we are the chosen, we few remaining ones who have survived but I wonder if the truly fortunate were those who died quickly at the beginning, before discovering real pain and suffering. I think -- no, I know those who did not survive the first onslaught were far luckier than those of us stuck here in this living nightmare.

Dark, depressing, and not well received. After many revisions (I can’t even begin to tell you how many), this is what will be published in June.

The End of Normal (Note the new title)
Part One: The Gloaming (the editor suggested dividing into parts, which I’ve done)
 
One

On the last morning of normal, I wish I could say I did something important, something that mattered, something noble even, but I can’t. No, instead of performing some major act of amazing, I wasted an entire hour pulling on and tugging off jeans, shirts, and sweaters, searching for that one combination that would make me look incredible.

Why was I so reckless with my time that morning? Because it was the day I had decided Sawyer Rising–hottest guy in school, goalie extraordinaire, and so gorgeous, just a hint of his crooked smile made me weak—was not only going to notice me, he was going to talk to me.

For forever I’ll regret my obliviousness to what was really important. Sadly, there’s nothing I can do about it now. Absolutely nothing.

Instead of weaving back and forth like the earlier version, this starts on the morning before their lives change, allowing the reader to meet the characters in their original world. Although I really liked my gloomy apocalyptic stuff, my many revisions and reader comments forced me realize that it didn’t do my book any favors, which is another lesson all writers must learn, which is to bravely kill off all of our darlings.

As a treat for those of you still with me, I’ve included a link to Patrick Stewart reciting Macbeth’s soliloquy. It’s beautiful and I hope you’ll take the time to enjoy it. Every day should have a little Shakespeare in it.

http://youtu.be/HZnaXDRwu84

After receiving a BA in international business and French history, Susan lived in Yokohama, Japan, with her husband Mike while he served in the U.S. Marine Corps. When they returned to the States, she taught at a Catholic Girls High School until she thought her head would explode from all the things she learned from her students. She then worked as a community college fundraiser and became an active board member, officer, and president of the national organization, Council for Resource Development (CRD), a nonprofit institution serving the 1,655 community colleges in the U.S.; she also was a member of the board for the American Association of Community Colleges.

In the fall of 2010, Susan decided to pursue her love of writing and enrolled in Spalding University’s MFA program in Louisville, Kentucky, under the direction of one of her favorite authors, Sena Jeter Naslund. At Spalding, Susan discovered her love of Middle Grade and Young Adult fiction, completing her first YA novel, The End of Normal, for her graduate thesis. Susan also has two books in progress; their working titles are Spillover and Entranced.

She is a member of SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators), Broad Writer’s (the society to promote and support science fiction, fantasy, and horror written by women), and the Writers’ League of Texas. Susan lives in Seabrook, Texas, with her husband, two children, a deaf dog Chester (who does not know sign language), and Vladimir the cat.

On Speechwriting--Professional Spotlight

This week The Editing Life has the pleasure of speaking to Christian Nwachukwu, Jr., a publishing pro who made the switch from the world of book editing to governmental speechwriting, having worked for former New York City mayor Michael Bloomberg and currently serving as a federal agency appointee. Read on to learn more about Christian’s perspective on his career thus far and some of what it takes to make it as a speechwriter.

Tell us a bit about your experience in book publishing. What led you to enter the industry? What types of titles did you work on?

My career in book publishing came between my roles as a radio journalist and speechwriter.  While working at National Public Radio as an editorial assistant for Morning Edition, I met journalist and author Juan Williams.  At the time, he was writing his book Enough. I asked him if he needed a research/ editorial assistant; he said “yes,” and that became my first publishing experience.  After we wrapped up work on that book, I looked for opportunities at publishing houses and found what turned out to be a great opportunity to become the editorial assistant at Harlem Moon Books, within what was then Doubleday/ Broadway.  

I had a great publishing experience, working with Harlem Moon founder and executive editor Janet Hill Talbert and editor Clarence Haynes.  I was able to work on a wide variety of African-American fiction and non-fiction, including several novels by J. California Cooper and E. Lynn Harris; a photo-biography of Maya Angelou; a biography of Harriet Tubman; hip-hop icon Grandmaster Flash's memoir; a father-son memoir by Eddie Levert, Sr. and Gerald Levert; and Gwen Ifill’s look at political structures post Obama’s election.

How did you make the transition to speechwriting? How did book publishing inform your perspective on a different career?

My transition to speechwriting wasn't planned.  After leaving Random House, I landed a staff writer position in the communications department of the New York City Housing Authority.  Shortly after starting work there, perhaps two weeks, the speechwriter at the time resigned abruptly. There was a looming City Council hearing to discuss a crisis in NYCHA's leased housing (Section 8) program.  I was asked if I could write the first draft of the agency's testimony. I did, and thereafter I was the speechwriter—both for the chair of NYCHA's board as well as for the agency itself and many senior leaders at NYCHA.

The experience I gained working at Harlem Moon Books—regularly evaluating proposals and manuscripts; helping to develop marketing plans for very different books with appeal to very different audiences; delving into a text to help an author tell his/ her story in clear, compelling prose; developing book proposals—was very helpful as I began work as a speechwriter. The flexibility book publishing requires gave me an added confidence in my work as a speechwriter.

What are some of the most enjoyable aspects of speechwriting? What have been challenges and surprises that you've faced?

I love communicating with people, and connecting with people.  Speechwriting provides a unique opportunity to see that connection play out in real time as my principal delivers a speech I've created.  Speechwriting also is about working with a principal and helping that person become a more effective public speaker, which I also enjoy.

My entire speechwriting career has been in the public sector, and I think the scrutiny—both internally and from the public—is greater than were I working for the head of a corporation or non-profit.  It's a challenge, but one that I embrace. 

The most surprising aspect is how often you have to write (and your principal has to say) something before it breaks through/gains traction.  And as a writer, you have to remind yourself that most people aren't nearly as engaged with the work of government as you are.  So I try to keep the listener/audience in mind with each speech that I write.

You have a love for language and literature. Who are writers that have influenced your speechwriting? Are you able to incorporate lines from a beloved literary figure into a speech? 

I love quotes.  But that doesn't mean that a quote I love will work for a particular principal.  When I worked for Mayor Michael Bloomberg, one of my colleagues, who had written for the mayor the longest, told me to think of myself as a playwright for one actor who's playing a well-known character.  You can't script words for that actor that the audience won't believe he'd say.  So while I don't often use direct quotes from personally beloved literary figures in my speeches, the writers whose work have been most important to me do influence the speeches I craft.  Toni Morrison. August Wilson. Cormac McCarthy.  Langston Hughes.  Their work influences all of my writing.

I think the greatest political speechwriter of all time is Abraham Lincoln, and I read his speeches often.  The speeches of Barack Obama, John F. Kennedy, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Winston Churchill, Barbara Jordan, Harry Truman, Frederick Douglass and George H.W. Bush also influence my writing and how I approach speechwriting in particular.

I've also been fortunate to write for someone who himself was a communicator, and Mayor Bloomberg's memoir was, obviously, exceptionally helpful in writing for him.

What are essential items readers should know about the work if considering a career in speechwriting?

Speechwriting is a demanding profession.  Depending on your principal, it can be all-consuming.  It helps to personally like the person you're writing for since you have to spend a lot of time looking through their eyes.  You also have to anticipate reporters' questions and write with that anticipation in mind.  You have to study, study, study the issues.  You must have a sense of humor. You must work well with people who will tear up your work without apology.  And then work with them again.  And again.  

You have to have (or develop) a thick skin.  You must have a great deal of patience.  You must write with your audience foremost in mind, because it is the audience who decides whether a speech succeeds or fails. And you must, above all, put your principal first.  Preparing him or her well, helping them connect with an audience and communicate clearly and compellingly trumps everything else.  It trumps hurt feelings; it trumps frustration; it trumps bad days; it trumps exhaustion; it trumps your theater tickets and your dinner plans.  It trumps everything.  If the speech is on the calendar, your principal will be standing before an audience whether you've done a good job or not. So do a good job.

Bio

Christian Nwachukwu, Jr. is an appointee of the Obama White House and serves as the Senior Speechwriter to CEO Wendy Spencer at the Corporation for National and Community Service. Prior to joining CNCS, Christian served as a speechwriter to former New York City Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg from 2011-13. Christian is a graduate of Morehouse College, where he studied biology.