Is Meyer the next J. K. Rowling?

That's the question posed by this story in Time Magazine (May 5, 2008). What do you think?

Generation R

According to Newsweek.com, YA fantasy is the brightest spot in book publishing today. We all knew that, didn't we?

Teen book sales are booming, and although Jamie Reno snarkily adds "it's not all Harry Potter," the author must admit that Rowling is largely responsible for jump-starting the trend.

Photo by Bettmann-Corbis

In Defense of Jacob Black

Contains some oblique spoilers

I've been reading some of the customer reviews (at www.Amazon.com and www.bn.com) of Stephenie Meyer's Eclipse, and I have three responses to those readers who accuse Jacob of manipulating Bella.

1. Yeah, he does.

2. She deserves it. I'm not defending his choice to kiss her without permission--that was clearly over the line--but Bella's been playing mind games with Jacob since she met him, and it's about time he called her on it. Bella's always known how he felt about her, even before he openly declared his love. The fact is, she took shameless advantage of him, particularly when she was so devastated by Edward's leaving in New Moon. Bella calls Jacob her best friend, but the closeness they share--the time they spend together, the wordless intimacy, the frequent hugging and hand-holding--goes well beyond simple friendship. What Bella has demanded of Jacob in the past is the emotional intimacy of a romantic relationship without any strings attached. As someone who's been on both sides of such a relationship, I can tell you that this is not only blatantly unfair but cruel.

3. Edward is every bit as manipulative as Jacob, but of course Bella and the reader adore Edward, so his manipulation appears romantic and forceful or, at worst, endearingly annoying. I'm reminded of the film Say Anything, in which John Cusack fights for the girl he loves by standing outside her house with a boombox blaring out "their" song. When I first saw the film, I thought this scene was breathtakingly romantic and I wished someone would do that for me. Several years later, someone did stand outside my apartment, ringing the doorbell, calling my name, and throwing things at my window. I didn't find it at all romantic; I found it terrifying, as did my roommate, who called the police. I had a very different perspective on the guy-on-the-sidewalk-with-the-boombox scene after that.

Unfortunately, the line between romance and manipulation is a very subjective one, and it all comes down to whether, in her heart of hearts, the girl really wants the guy to be out there on the sidewalk, refusing to take no for an answer.

Blogging Stephenie Meyer's Eclipse

Let me just begin by saying that I am vindicated! In my first posting about Stephenie Meyer, I called the Twilight series Bronte-esque. Sure enough, I have learned that one of Meyer's favorite books is Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre, and she explicitly references Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights in her latest novel, Eclipse.

Eclipse is, quite simply, wonderful. Sometimes by the third novel, a series begins to run out of steam, but Meyer's imagination continues to astonish me. I should also admit that Edward, the vampire love interest, has finally won me over. I didn't like him much at all in the first book, Twilight: he was so cold, superior, and remote, even in his love scenes with Bella, the protagonist. In fact, Bella was the one who insisted on his superiority: "You're so beautiful and perfect and wonderful, let me throw away my worthless life for you." Grr. By the end of the second book, New Moon, I'd warmed up to Edward considerably, although I still preferred Jacob, the werewolf who also falls in love with Bella.

In Eclipse, Edward fully redeems himself (in my eyes, that is; I know there are plenty of readers who share Bella's belief that he's perfect just the way he is). Not only does Edward drop the superior act, but even he expresses annoyance with Bella's idolization of him. "The way you regard me is ludicrous," he growls. (You'd better believe I stood up and cheered when I read that!) I still have a soft spot for Jacob, but as the love triangle emerged, I found myself more torn, just as Bella is.

No spoilers, but here's a brief synopsis for those who are still waiting their turn for the library copy:

In their senior year of high school, Edward pushes Bella to apply for college and plan a normal life, but Bella is eager to become a vampire so that they can truly be together. When she attracts a mysterious stalker as well as the attention of the Volturi (the supreme authorities in the vampire world), Edward reluctantly admits that Bella might be safer undead. Even so, he insists on one condition before the conversion, and this is a decision Bella is not prepared to make. Meanwhile, Jacob declares his love for Bella and challenges her to confront her true feelings for him. Just at the moment when it seems Bella must make her most difficult decision, a new threat forces ancient enemies into an uneasy alliance.

Blogging Stephenie Meyer's New Moon, Part 2

Contains some spoilers

I finished New Moon last night, and I must say that I'm impressed with Stephenie Meyer's imagination. She constantly surprises the reader with plot twists, new characters, and seemingly irresolvable conflicts. I'm trying to avoid the hackneyed phrase "emotional rollercoaster," but I think Meyer's strongest appeal lies in her ability to involve the readers in the characters' intense and richly textured emotional lives.

I was also trying to avoid the terms "suicidal" and "self-destructive" when I wrote yesterday's post, but I've discovered a very striking parallel between Bella Swan and Harry Potter. Several times in the Harry Potter series, the orphaned hero finds that when he is in danger, he hears the voices of his parents just before they died, which distracts him from fighting for his life. Harry finds that he is slow to master the Expecto Patronum spell, for example, because he's eager for any contact with the parents he never knew. Similarly, Bella finds that when she's in danger, she hears Edward's warning voice in her head. Bella has been in a deep depression since he broke up with her (to keep her safe from himself and other vampires), but when she discovers this connection to her ex-boyfriend, Bella becomes a thrillseeker, deliberately putting herself in danger so that she can hear Edward again. Ironically, the angrier he sounds, the happier she is because this is proof that he still cares.

Eager to do something rebellious and risky, Bella buys a decrepit motorcycle and asks her friend Jacob to fix it up and teach her to ride. Despite her desire to endanger herself, Bella finds that her friendship with Jacob is a lifeline, and she hangs on desperately even after she realizes that Jacob is falling in love with her, while she sees him as a best friend. This romantic conflict is not the only plot complication; as anyone but Bella herself could have predicted long ago, Jacob is destined to become a werewolf, the ancient enemy of all vampires or "cold ones," as his Native American tribe calls them. (C'mon, this isn't really a spoiler, is it? I pegged Jacob as a werewolf from his first conversation with Bella in Twilight.)

I can tell from the readers' comments at Amazon.com and Stephenie Meyer's website that most readers see Jacob as a distraction or, at best, a placeholder in the plot until Bella's vampire lover comes back into the picture, so I know they're going to be aghast at what I say next. Sorry, guys, but I really prefer Jacob to Edward.

Take a minute to catch your breath. I'll wait.

Yes, I know that Edward is the great love of Bella's life, the Romeo to her Juliet, but he never seems quite real to me. This is not a disparagement but an acknowledgment of Meyer's characterization. Again and again, Bella describes embracing Edward as hugging a large piece of unyielding granite; whatever he looks like, his touch is cold and hard as stone. Edward can't stand in the sun because his skin catches the light and sparkles like a diamond, a sure tip-off that he's not human. Beautiful and desirable as he is, Edward is not alive; essentially, he's a statue. Certainly Bella responds to him as if he were a walking piece of precious art, which reminds me of the Pygmalion myth, in which a sculptor falls in love with a statue he has made. Could her love make Edward real, or is Bella really in love with her image of Edward, a product of her own romantic imagination?

Jacob, on the other hand, is definitely alive. Not only is he physically hot to the touch (werewolves have a higher temperature than regular humans), but his emotional warmth heals Bella from her frozen state of depression. He gives her a sense of fun, normalcy, and acceptance she hasn't had since she arrived in Forks. She feels safe and comfortable with Jacob; secure in his regard for her, Bella never feels inferior or wonders what he sees in her. She's tempted to see him as a child because he's two years younger (the distance between a high school senior and a sophomore is significant), but Bella has to change her ideas about Jacob's maturity even before his metamorphosis. They are equals in a way Bella and Edward have never been, and even in his wolf state, Jacob has more in common with Bella than Edward does. (Hey, a wolf and a human are both mammals, right?)

I know I'm probably alone on this, but I wish there had been a real love triangle instead of only the appearance of one. I hope Jacob becomes a real contender for Bella's heart in the next book, Eclipse, and gives Edward a run for his money. Jacob deserves better than to be cast as the forgettable Paris in Meyer's retelling of Romeo and Juliet.

Blogging Stephenie Meyer's New Moon

I'm back from my second-life vacation (if only there'd been a vacation in my first life as well), and I'm reading New Moon, the second book in Stephenie Meyer's best-selling YA vampire series. Of course, the big news is about Eclipse, the third and newest book in the series, which just hit shelves two weeks ago. Eclipse is getting the star treatment, sharing display space with the final Harry Potter book in the power aisle at Barnes & Noble.

It seems that Meyer has been tapped to replace J. K. Rowling as the YA media darling, although they're writing for rather different audiences. If the Harry Potter books are Dickensian, Meyer's vampire series--which includes Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse--might be called Bronte-esque. Despite the trappings of fantasy, Meyer is writing classic Gothic romance in the style of Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, with a dash of Romeo and Juliet for extra pathos.

Bella Swan, an accident-prone high school student, falls madly in love with Edward Cullen, the most breathtakingly handsome boy she's ever met. Edward is mysterious, intelligent, rich, and a vampire. He struggles to keep his distance, but Bella's frequent brushes with danger force him to rescue her again and again. It's easy to see why the series is so popular, especially among teenage girls. Meyer takes an innovative approach to the conventions of vampire lit, and she masterfully conveys all the breathless passion and profound significance of first love without a hint of condescension.

You're Too Good For Me

As I read New Moon, however, I'm troubled by the same thing that marred my enjoyment of Twilight: the heroine's utter lack of self-worth. Bella sees herself as average and plain, remarkable only for her klutziness, and she can't imagine what Edward (gorgeous, sophisticated, and immortal) could possibly see in her. Doubtless many readers can identify with this feeling of unworthiness ("he could have any girl he wanted, so why would he choose me?"), but Bella constantly grovels before Edward's perceived superiority. She begs for his kisses, which inflame her with passion while he remains cool (literally as well as figuratively). When another vampire attacks her, she apologizes. She's ready to die for Edward, willing (even anxious) to throw away her soul so they can be together.

Like Jane Eyre, Bella regards her lover as her master and is in danger of making him her idol. The difference is that Jane does assert her own worth, and she doesn't wait until the end of the novel to do it, either. She accuses Edward Rochester of toying with her emotions, insists that she is his equal, and even risks hurting her lover in order to do what is right. Bella, on the other hand, consistently submits to her Edward's manipulation, miserably telling herself that she's not good enough for him.

Enthralling as Meyer's story is, I believe Bella's masochism sends a dangerous message to young women about what it means to be in love. As I read through New Moon, I'm hoping to see Bella become less like Heathcliff, a man of violent passions who insists that his soul is buried with his dead love, and more like Jane, a woman who is able to love passionately without losing herself.

Chick Lit: Bridging the Generation Gap?

Lately I've noticed quite a bit of crossover between chick lit and YA fiction for teen girls. Meg Cabot, best known for her Princess Diaries series, has also written several romances for adult readers, including The Queen of Babble and Size Twelve is Not Fat (one of my favorite titles).









Similarly, Ann Brashares, author of the bestselling Sisterhood of theTraveling Pants series, has recently published her first work of adult fiction, The Last Summer (of You and Me).











If the traffic only flowed one way, we might assume that YA authors like Cabot and Brashares are simply trying to retain their audience by adapting to the changing tastes of their maturing readers. As Brashares writes to her fans on Sisterhood Central:

The characters are a little bit older (in their early twenties) and the themes a
bit more sophisticated than ones I've written about before. So it's probably
not right for younger readers. But if you are a seasoned reader of the
Traveling Pants series--probably fifteen or older--I think this book would
be appropriate and (hopefully!) enjoyable for you.

However, authors are moving in the other direction, too. Sarah Mlynowski, author of several chick lit novels published by Red Dress Ink (a Harlequin imprint), has staked out YA territory with Bras & Broomsticks, a fantasy series about a high-school girl who covets her younger sister's newfound magical powers.

So is the distinction between YA and adult fiction simply a matter of packaging? Is there any real difference between books written for teenage girls and those written for women? Author and essayist Deanna Carlyle has no problem with calling YA books for girls "chick lit":

In the U.S. publishing industry, the line between chick lit, young adult fiction and women’s fiction is blurring.Some editors are calling the new developments “humorous women’s fiction,” “romantic comedy” or “tween lit.”
But don’t be fooled.
Chick lit by any other name is just as fun and just as fresh.

In an April 2005 interview with Carlyle, Sarah Mlynowski explains that she made the transition from adult to YA lit because she wanted to emulate her hero, Judy Blume, in reaching out to young readers and helping them fall in love with books:

Judy Blume is my inspiration. I grew up reading her novels. They were the first books I read that made me laugh out loud and want to become both a reader, and a writer. It was a compete revelation for me to see my experiences and pre-pubescent angst affectionately reflected in print.

People always call Helen Fielding the mother of chick lit, but I think it’s Judy Blume. She’s who we all (chick lit writers) grew up reading, and she’s the one who helped shaped our consciousness.

An Interview with H. J. Ralles

H. J. Ralles is the author of many critically-acclaimed YA novels, including Darok 9, Darok 10, and the Keeper series (Keeper of the Kingdom, Keeper of the Realm, Keeper of the Empire, and Keeper of the Colony). Her newest book, Keeper of the Island, is the fifth and final book of the Keeper series, which chronicles the adventures of Matt, a young man who has been sucked into a video game and has no choice but to play his way out.

I caught up with the busy Ms. Ralles at Barnes & Noble Booksellers in Denton, Texas, where she was signing copies of her latest book and co-hosting a pirate-themed activity with Cindy Vallar (a.k.a. “The Pirate Lady”).

Did you intend to create a series when you started the first Keeper book?

HR: No, not at all. I wrote Keeper of the Kingdom for my son, who was ten years old at the time. After I sold it, my publisher said, “You know, this would make a good series,” and he asked me to change the ending so I could continue Matt’s story. When the first printing sold out in six months, we knew we’d made the right choice; there was definitely an audience for a series.

Series are popular with readers because when they read a good book, they want more of the same, only different. Is that a challenge for the author?

HR: It is. I hit on the idea of Matt moving to the next level of the game in every book, which allows me to keep things fresh. Each book is set in a different place, Matt meets a different girl who helps him, and he fights a different enemy. The only constant is the rules of the game; those remain the same at every level. I’ve also tried to make each book a separate story that can stand alone; you can enjoy the fifth book even if you haven’t read the first four.

How does time move over the course of the series? Does Matt get older in every book?

HR: A lot of readers have asked me that question, and the answer appears in Keeper of the Island. I can’t tell you more than that; I don’t want to give away the secret!

In the Harry Potter series, the books have become darker and more complex as Harry has gotten older. This is fine for readers who have grown up along with Harry, because they’ve had to wait a year or two between books, but for young readers who are starting the series now—

HR: Yes, that can be a problem. When kids find something they like, they’ll read the entire series in two weeks, so there’s no maturing period. The Keeper books are all written for kids between 9 and 13 years old. There’s no bad language or anything inappropriate for that age.

Why did you choose to write about pirates in the final Keeper book?

HR: I’ve always been fascinated by pirates. When I was a little girl, one of my favorite stories was about a pirate, and it was set in a place I used to visit quite often with my family. Two years ago I went on a cruise to Belize, which is very rich in pirate history, and I felt I’d come full circle. I knew I wanted to write a pirate adventure.

There’s a trend in YA fiction, and of course in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, toward a more positive view of pirates. Are your pirates good or bad?

HR: I suppose they’re bad pirates, but again, I don’t want to say too much . . .

CV: I think your depiction of pirates in Keeper of the Island is very authentic.

HR: Oh, do you? Thanks, that means a lot coming from you. I knew I wanted the pirates to be authentic, even though the series is set in 2540 A.D. People don’t usually think about modern pirates, and how pirates can exist in a futuristic setting is another one of the mysteries of the book.

Occasionally, science fiction and fantasy offend people’s sensibilities. Does it bother you when readers try to defend the authors by saying, “Oh, it’s just fiction”?

HR: Well, I do try to make sure that anything factual in my books is as accurate as possible. For example, in Keeper of the Island, I give some information about pirates and their ships. Matt incorrectly calls the pirate ship a galleon—because we always associate pirates with galleons, don’t we?—but the captain explains that it’s actually a square- rigger.

CV: The ships used in the old Captain Blood movies were galleons because they had nice big decks, perfect for staging a sword fight. But real pirates wouldn’t have used galleons because they’re big and unwieldy and hard to steer, plus they have a low draft, which means they can’t sail into shallow water. Pirates preferred quick, agile ships like schooners, sloops, and square-riggers.

HR: Well, that’s the sort of information I try to include in my books. Being a teacher, it’s partly my goal to inform my readers. For the Darok series, I had to do a lot of research on the potential challenges of space colonization, as well as on cryonics and cloning, and I shared what I’d learned with my readers. My books are taught in 7th and 8th grade science classes because they present factual information in an entertaining way. In fact, I was invited to sign Darok 9 and Darok 10 at the International Space Development Conference in Dallas, and the Space Frontier Foundation reviewed those books as well.

HR: My books have good moral values, which are important whether you’re writing fiction or non-fiction. Good wins out over evil. The kids work with adults, not against them, to achieve their goals. As a mother and a teacher, I’m upset by stories where 13-year-olds drive cars. Writers of YA fiction have a lot of responsibility. For myself, I want to show positive interactions between kids and adults: the kids respect the adults’ competence, and the adults listen to what the kids have to say.

To visit H. J. Ralles's website, click here.

Why We Should Take Children's Lit Seriously

As a graduate student, I never took a course in children's literature. In fact, I don't remember even being offered the opportunity. I do remember hearing one professor speak disparagingly of "kiddie lit," which I now realize is a controversial but widely-used term, but I had no idea that this was a field of legitimate study (and indeed, some scholars argue that it isn't). Children's/YA lit has gained grudging acceptance in the academy and I've read some truly outstanding scholarship on the subject, but I've learned most of what I know about this field from much younger experts.

Birth of a Book Group
Two years ago, I was asked to put together a fantasy/science fiction book group for readers between the ages of 10 and 15. I figured I could draw on some of my old favorites--A Wrinkle in Time, The Chronicles of Narnia, Alice in Wonderland--but I wasn't up on any current fiction except Harry Potter, so I went to my public library to do some research. I casually asked a librarian if she could recommend a few books and was overwhelmed by her response--Pat led me all over the junior and teen sections, showered me with lists of award-winning books, and fired authors and titles at me until I begged for mercy. We sat down at a table as I feverishly took notes, stumbling over the spelling of unfamiliar names like Sabriel and Abarat. I wish I could remember which title Pat was talking about when a young woman playing a computer game nearby suddenly turned around and said fervently, "That is SUCH a great book!" That's how I met Julia.

Julia joined us at the table and started rattling off all the books I absolutely had to read. After a while, her sister, Katherine, wandered over to see what we were doing, and soon both girls were darting into the stacks and bringing back armfuls of their favorite books, breathlessly providing plot summaries and arguing over which were the best. I've spent my life among books and people who love them, but it had been a long time since I had heard anyone talk about reading with such passion and urgency. I knew I had to get this book group up and running. Julia and Katherine became the first two members.

Next month the Gryffindors will celebrate our two-year anniversary (yes, I live in fear of being sued for copyright infringement, but we love the name). In addition to facilitating the meetings, I publish two newsletters, The Denton Runes and Dragonbites, to recommend books and advertise special events at the Denton Public Library and at the Barnes & Noble store where the group meets.

Here are some of the things I've learned over the past two years:

1. We are living in a second Golden Age of children's/YA literature, fueled by but certainly not limited to the Harry Potter phenomenon. (The first Golden Age was in the 19th century--more about that later.) There's just a lot of good stuff out there right now, including a number of books with very strong female heroes. I plan to talk about many of these books in more detail in future posts, but let me just list, in no particular order, some of the most impressive authors I've read: Shannon Hale, Scott Westerfeld, Jonathan Stroud, Philip Pullman, Patricia Wrede, Maiya Williams, Louis Sachar, Carl Hiaasen, Justine Larbalestier, Terry Pratchett, J. K. Rowling, Orson Scott Card, Gail Carson Levine, Rick Riordan, Vivian Vande Velde, and Gabrielle Zevin.

2. "Children's literature" covers a lot of territory, everything from soft-cover picture books for infants to racy teen reads like the Gossip Girl series (think Sex and the City for the Clearasil crowd and you've got the idea). This tendency to lump everything together under one umbrella term leads to confusion about what is age-appropriate. Harry Potter and Eragon may be extremely popular, but they're NOT for six-year-olds.

3. Children's/YA lit has a much larger audience than you might think. The Gryffindors was intended for tweens and young teens, but we had so many adults attend the first few meetings that I changed the description to "readers of all ages." Some are parents who come with their children; some are aspiring children's authors or fans of a particular book; others are college-age readers who find that YA books are more thought-provoking and original than adult fiction.

4. They may be writing for young readers, but these authors aren't kidding around (sorry, I couldn't resist that one). They're taking on serious issues and creating real art.

• Cornelia Funke's Inkheart raises the issue of an author's moral responsibility for his or her creation.
• Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game and Terry Pratchett's Only You Can Save Mankind confront the moral complexities of war.
• Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy is a rewriting of Milton's Paradise Lost by way of William Blake's Songs of Innocence and Experience and "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell."

In her study Kiddie Lit: The Cultural Construction of Children's Literature in America, Beverly Lyon Clark asserts that the study of children's lit raises some fascinating questions about canonicity, commodification, and censorship, but she gives us an even more important reason to take children's lit seriously: "The term kiddie lit captures our culture's ambivalence toward children and children's literature: dismissive? self-mocking? pejorative? ironical?" (2).

Our regard for children's lit has a lot to do with our regard for children, period.