artsy musings of a bibliophile

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Trend Alert: YA Adventures in Parts I

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Of trends and lesser-knowns.

Last September, an article in the Publisher’s Weekly asked some agents their thoughts on new trends in YA. Divided into several sections, there were talks about realistic contemporary being all the rage, a fifty-fifty speculation on whether thrillers are going to be the next big thing (a YA Gone Girl, anyone?), and an overall trilogy, paranormal and dystopian burnout. 
What struck me was a consensus of opinion on trilogy fatigue that is resulting in publishers completing two-book deals: two standalones / a title and a companion / a title and an undefined book. Debut as well as well-known authors such as R.C. Lewis (Stitching Snow, 2014), Stephanie Oakes (Minnow, 2015), Neal Shusterman (Challenger Deep, 2014), Anna-Marie McLemore (The Weight of Feathers, 2015), Corey Ann Haydu (Life by Committee, 2014), and Alexandra Sirowy (The Creeping, 2015) have all completed two-book deals in the last few years.

There’ve also been a rise in ‘duology and a third book’ deals. Yet these hardly seem to make a dent in an endless onslaught of YA trilogies.

ON THE COUNT OF THREE

We all love to hate and hate to love trilogies. An average reader has finished at least (this is totally my guess) one in their lifetime. It’s like adventure in three parts.

Only way to YA. (Source)

There’s always been talk of readers getting tired of trilogies that we now have a roadmap to guide us. Or at least, Asti does. We talked about duologies and trilogies on Twitter and I ended up asking her what first and third books in a trilogy entail as she wrote a blogpost on second book syndrome a while back. I get curious easily. Asti did an awesome job of coming up with these.

FIRST BOOK TRIAL

‘If you love it, great, continue series. If you don’t, no harm done, just move on.’

Except sometimes I want to live in a world where I don’t discontinue any series I start. Ranging from disappointing to phenomenal, first book are trials of all kinds. If the first book is perfect, it sets the bar high for the rest of the trilogy. If it has potential, it might either get better in the next one or end up suffering from second book syndrome. If it sucks, it feels like a waste of everything.

SECOND BOOK SYNDROME

‘Watch out for disappointment. Tread carefully. There’s no turning back now.’

There really is no turning back because the reader is now invested in the trilogy. If the second book turns out to be a filler book where the characters just seem to drift aimlessly, well, it’s rage-worthy and heartbreaking. The wait? Not worth it. But if everything from the first book is intensified in the second one, the story punches harder and everything is alight with feels.

THIRD BOOK REDEMPTION

‘Was the book worth it? Has your entire life been a waste? It’s all up to how that final book ends.’

Trilogy finales are tricky in that they represent the last 50 pages of a standalone book. From plot to the characters, everything can start to go downhill just as the end nears. But everything can also just twist and turn the reader’s mind all the way to the last page. It’s one hell of a ride ’cause series enders have a habit of burning too bright. A ride that have equal chances for the trilogy to be labeled as either trash or terrific.

You got trilogic feelings in your stomach? Totally legit. (Source)

Simply put, excess of anything is exhausting and trilogies have been around a long time now. From the mere number of series I’ve finished, I might just get tired of going through the same steps over and over. Every now and then, we all need a break.

So what if we want a different option for our break? An option that changes the way we look at series?

GOING ONE, GOING TWO

Duologies are strange. It seems lazy to just label them as series because it’s really just a book and its sequel. Why not just add a book instead and call it a trilogy. But is it all that simple? The answer is… complicated.

There are dualogies where we get to read both the main characters’ point of views in two different books instead of just one where they alternate. In such girl-and-boy-dualogies, there’s no need for the third book. Then there are books with sequels that fast-forward years later into a character’s life. There are also duologies which could have been awkward and really long standalones, instead.

Dualogies are becoming Forman’s forte. (Source)
So where all the stats at? I went number hunting because I want more of ’em in my life.

Despite a relatively recent surge in YA duologies, the ones that came just before 2012 were few and far between. If I Stay/Where She Went by Gayle Forman is the most popular YA duology ever.

– A Need So Beautiful and A Want So Wicked by Suzanne Young
– Clarity and Perception by Kim Harrington
– If I Stay and Where She Went by Gayle Forman
– Inside Out and Outside In by Maria V. Snyder
– Juliet Immortal and Romeo Redeemed by Stacey Jay
– Jumping Off Swings and Living with Jackie Chan by Jo Knowles
– Leaving Paradise and Return to Paradise by Simone Elkeles

But 2012 seemed to be a defining year for duologies with the release of popular titles like Rachel Hartman’s Seraphina and Kendare Blake’s Anna Dressed in Blood.

– Anna Dressed in Blood and Girl of Nightmares by Kendare Blake
– Breathe and Resist by Sarah Crossan
– Dark Kiss and Wicked Kiss by Michelle Rowen
– Every Day and Rhiannon by David Levithan
– Fracture and Vengeance by Megan Miranda
– Masque of the Red Death and Dance of the Red Death by Bethany Griffin
– Pretty Crooked and Pretty Sly by Elisa Ludwig
– Seraphina and Shadow Scale by Rachel Hartman
– Silver and Gold by Talia Vance
– Slide and Imposter by Jill Hathaway
– Struck and Aftershock by Jennifer Bosworth
– The Creative Fire and The Diamond Deep by Brenda Cooper

2013 only arrived with most duologies till date. Gayle Forman’s Just One Day and Kasie West’s Pivot Point were two of the popular duologies of the year.

– Arclight and Meridian by Josin L. McQuein
– All Our Yesterdays and Untitled by Cristin Terrill
– Dualed and Divided by Elsie Chapman
– Control and Catalyst by Lydia Kang
– Gated and Astray by Amy Christine Parker
– In the After and In the End by Demitria Lunetta
– Just One Day and Just One Year by Gayle Forman
– Linked and Unravel by Imogen Howson
– Mind Games and Perfect Lies by Kiersten White
– My Life Next Door and The Boy Most Likely To by Huntley Fitzpatrick
– Not a Drop to Drink and In a Handful of Dust by Mindy McGinnis
– Pivot Point and Split Second by Kasie West
– Reboot and Rebel by Amy Tintera
– Starglass and Starbreak by Phoebe North
– Starters and Enders by Lissa Price
– The Program and The Treatment by Suzanne Young
– The Rules for Disappearing and The Rules for Breaking by Ashley Elston
– The Ward and Untitled by Jordana Frankel

 

2014 looks like an exciting year for duologies. We’ve only passed the first quarter and some of the duologies have already been released. Jenny Han’s To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before seem to be the most anticiapted release for the year.

– Alienated and Invaded by Melissa Landers
– Avalon and Polaris by Mindee Arnett
– Blackbird and Untitled by Anna Carey
– Dark Metropolis and Untitled by Jaclyn Dolamore
– Disruption and Corruption by Jessica Shirvington
– Landry Park and Untitled by Bethany Hagen
– To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before and P.S. I Still Love You by Jenny Han
– Uninvited and Unleashed by Sophie Jordan
– White Space and The Dickens Mirror by Ilsa J. Bick

Is this trend going to continue in 2015 and beyond? My answer is a yes. Just look at all the awesome in the list.

– A Darker Shade of Magic and Untitled by Victoria Schwab
– Kalahari and Untitled by Jessica Khoury
– Kissing in America and Untitled by Margo Rabb
– Passenger and Wayfarer by Alexandra Bracken

TREND AND GO.

What I like about the trend is that duologies offer the chance to get into a genre without the burnout factor. Currently, I’m more willing to read a dystopian duology than I am a dystopian trilogy because it just seems easier in every way. This also gives a chance for contemporaries to expand beyond one book. Right now, there either seems to be never-ending series (re: Sara Shepard’s Pretty Little Liars) or just standalones for the genre.

In the end, it may seem as if duologies are pointless because why not just add a book? I’ve often wondered about this and after finishing two duologies, they didn’t seem redundant to me. However, my opinion of them is still evolving. Meanwhile, I’m ready for series that aren’t trilogies.

Are you partial towards YA adventures in parts? Willing to duology or are trilogies enough? Excited about any of the titles? Any other thoughts?

P.S. I’ve also made a Goodreads list for duologies and companions.

The Musing Mind: Why Serial Distress is the Worst

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Ponderings with little bursts of cartoon art.

serial distress [sɪriəl dɪˈstres]: suffering caused by finishing a book series.

Things are serie-ous (pun intended) when there’s no term for something and I kind of, sort of, have to invent one. It’s not like my default reaction to discovering a new series isn’t, ‘Yay, at least three more books to read in the future!’ because it totally is.

However, discovering isn’t reading and reading is this really simply thing:

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Err yeah. 
So I’ve an issue with letting go of book series and only book series because yes to binge-watching TV shows and movie sequels forever. Let’s start off with how many series I did finish in my life because my suffering cannot be that distressful and I cannot be that lame. Right?
I was a normal kid so I managed to read the first six books of JK Rowling’s Harry Potter like a normal Potterhead person by the age fifteen. However, I read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows four years after that, in 2009. This should have been the first signal that something is going to go wrong with me. Then I read and re-read Sarra Manning’s Diary of a Crush trilogy countless of times because once upon a time, re-reading was my thing.
Then I went paranormal and read all of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight in a span of two months in 2008 around Twilight’s movie release. I got obsessed with it and then I hated Breaking Dawn because whiny Jacob and ew plot twist.
Come to think of it, Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games is the only series that I was dying to read because I miraculously reached the it’s-better-to-shoot-myself-then-live-in-a-Katniss/Peeta/Gale-less-world-for-another-day stage. I finished the trilogy back in December 2012. It was glorious and I cried. Obviously.
Lastly, I binge-read the first three books in Richelle Mead’s Vampire Academy in fall 2013 and then promptly died. My ghost, Eve and other Twitter/blogging friends somehow convinced me to finish the series and so I did. In fact, I spent my New Year’s Eve finishing it. It was also glorious.
Five series comprising of 23 books in 23 years of my life.
Considering reader statistics, it is an ordinary number but, us bookish people are not ordinary, which makes it a pathetic number. I now know how I manage to suck so hard. What am I even doing with my life?
Oh yeah, I’m spending my life running away from series enders. ‘Also, who wants to throw me out that window?’ But- but- I’ve legit reason to do just that because after I finish a book series, I’m like this:
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Rather, I’m like all of those because I’ve no idea what to do with myself. If I try hard enough, I’ll be able to give a description of why I feel like side-eyeing like Side-Eye Bob on bottom right. Or why I hunch my shoulders like Tall Bob towards upper middle-right after I finish a series.
Yet, it was getting ridiculous because who needs to be in the middle of roughly 80 series with no end in sight. I wanted to get ahead while I can and so I finished Brodi Ashton’s Everneath series last week. I hated finishing it. I thought it wouldn’t matter if the series turned out to be the worst or the best ever. But it does because it made me want to simultaneously curl up and die a slow, frustrating death and rage forever.
So no, I don’t want to cry my eyes out reading Patrick Ness’ The Ask and the Answer because of too many feels, I’m nervous to read Veronica Roth’s Insurgent and Allegiant because something is very wrong with it and I don’t want to know what. I’ve more or less lost interest in continuing Cassandra Clare’s The Mortal Instruments. Clearly, I’m in the I-don’t-ever-want-to-finish-a-series-again mode but I know I’ll revert back to I-want-to-read-all-the-series mode as soon as I start a mind-blowing one. Argh.
Do you like finishing series or do you suffer from serial distress? Also, do you think I need de-stressing therapy? No, don’t answer the last one. I’m fine or will be. I think.

Monotypes vs Monoprints: Of Absent Mothers and Female Bildungsroman

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Monotypes vs Monoprints is a feature about anything that is original or recurring in books. The basic idea is that there are some themes in fiction that are completely original and begin on an unetched canvas, so to speak, like monotypes. Whereas, the more common underlying themes that occur in books are akin to monoprints. I’d love to receive any feedback or suggestions that anyone may have regarding this feature.

Recently, I was re-reading Everneath by Brodi Ashton to write its recap and something struck me about the underlying plot. I chose to ignore it and move on, but then I started reading its sequel, Everbound, which forced me to pause and wonder about it. Why are absent mothers such a common theme when it comes to young adult fiction? So I went hunting.

A RITE OF PASSAGE TO INDIVIDUALITY

One of the views is that female protagonists need to experience some kind of a jolt to come to terms with their individuality. In other words, they need a defining moment in their lives in order to grow up. So if a mother leaves, dies or is somehow not directly involved in her daughter’s life, it is bound to bring about a change in her life. The different scenarios branch out and the character can be made to feel any possible number of emotions. In the absence of a motherly figure, the protagonist starts making decisions on her own which often have dramatic consequences. The main result however, is self-sufficiency. One way or the other, the protagonist is forced to rely on self and to abandon their trusting nature.

FITTING INTO SOCIETY

Each one of us have experienced the feeling of not fitting into society at some point and on some level in our lives. In the case of a protagonist without a mother, it gives an experience to them that only they can relate to. It is not something they want to be defined by, but they do want to be respected for it. The process of basic human development is a change of perspective; a realization that the world we live in is not the ideal world of childhood but a harsh and discouraging reality. Throwing in an absent mother quickens that process and dramatically influences the fitting-into-society part of life in a story. More often than not, protagonists seem to develop a hard exterior as a way of protecting themselves from similar experiences, which makes fitting into society a difficult venture. Yet it can be overcome by way of maturity on the character’s part.

THE BILDUNGSROMAN FACTOR 

During my research, I came across the phrase bildungsroman [bil-doongz-roh-mahn] being used to express the process of maturity of a young protagonist in a novel. The growth can be moral, psychological, social, intellectual, or spiritual. A majority of classic literature focuses on some kind of a growth and this recurs in the young adult fiction of today. There’s even a Goodreads list comprising of the best in bildungsroman fiction or coming-of-age stories. Harry Potter in one such series and it would’ve been vastly different if there was a motherly figure involved in Harry’s life. The absence of his parents, especially his mother, gave him a certain depth of character.
However, in the strictest sense, most of young adult fiction are not bildungsroman due to the short period of time such events take place in the protagonist’s life. Enduring pain formulates an identity and pain that comes from losing a maternal figure combined with themes of survival is an important element of fiction. In her article, A Girl’s Life, Stacey May Fowles states it perfectly:

‘While the male Bildungsroman, such as Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, The Catcher in the Rye, or The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz, tends to involve the acquisition of power, the experience of adventure, or the act of rebellion, the female version seems dictated by how well a heroine can withstand suffering without flinching.’

In the end, everyone has their own way of dealing with grief and books simply open our minds via all the characters we come across. I find it fascinating to read books with such themes because every author uses a different approach. Of course, I’ve just scratched the surface of the subject matter in question and it turned out to be a monoprint in fiction. However, it is definitely one that I want to read more of.
What are some of the absent-mothers books you’ve read? How do you feel about female bildungroman? Is this something that might appeals to you in YA fiction?

O Good Scientist, Where Art Thou?

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Science is wonder. Science is life-saving. Science is golden. Scientists are- wait those are simply evil; especially in fiction. Aren’t they supposed to reveal the bad, the worse and the worst that scientists are capable of in the real world? Yes? No? What even?
Most good scientists are portrayed as aliens in science fiction. Spock (Star Trek), a half-Martian, science officer aboard the Enterprise. The Doctor (Doctor Who), an alien who relies heavily on science on his adventures. Liet-Kyne (Dune), a planetologist on planet Arrakis. Science in fiction, however, does portray scientists whose purpose is to explain the science because who’s going to believe non-scientists?

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A villain is a welcome distraction from the onslaught of heroes upon heroes in fiction, but a villain who is a scientist is simply an evil genius. Intellectually obsessed, morally crippled and emotionally detached, scientists know what the stakes are; in fact, they thrive on them. What could be better than this? Even the best of them are misguided in their intentions. The worst, come hell or high water, just want to take over the world. 
Did Dr. Frankenstein create a monster or he himself is one? The morals of Dr. Jekyll are tested to the extreme when he struggles between his good and evil selves. Why are scientists becoming more and more amoral in fiction? What is the science that decides what image of the scientist to represent? Could this be based on theories that were defied over and over only to have them proven true decades later? Galileo was suspected of heresy when his theory of how the earth moves around the sun was made public knowledge. Nikola Tesla’s peculiar nature gave him the image of a mad scientist. Einstein’s theories were regarded as highly controversial at first. Did all of this lead to scientists finding a common ground with their evil intentions in fiction? Or is it because villainy is best suited to the intellectuals?
There are good and bad sides of everything so why a scientist must be regarded with suspicion over his desire and curiosity to know more about the natural world? Why must they be the Faustians of the world; dissatisfied with their lives to the point that it drives them to sell their moral integrity in exchange for unlimited knowledge? Unless they have an agenda of their own, scientists are generally ignored in fiction. In the real world, we are grateful to science for making our lives easier than ever but in fiction, evil inventions and horrendous experiments are carried out for the greater good.

Roslynn D. Haynes says it best in her book, From Faust to Strangelove: Representations of the Scientist in Western Literature:

“With the exception of the superficial characters of much science fiction, the dominant picture has been of scientists who recapitulate the unflattering stereotypes of earlier centuries – the evil scientist, the stupid scientist, the inhuman scientist – or, as a peculiarly 20th-century contribution, the scientist who has lost control over his discovery.”

Do you think there is a lack of good scientists in science fiction? Or am I being delusional like I usually am? (No, I’m not). Seriously though, tell me what you think.

Essentials of Science Fiction

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There is no one universally-accepted definition of science fiction and as the genre develops more and more, sprouting new sub-genres; the present definitions are blurred even further. Today, I talk about the science of fiction that turns it into science fiction.
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A SENSE OF WONDER

The concept of space and time is as old as the Big Bang itself and cocooned in our own world, we often tend to forget how vast it really is. As children, we used to find wonder in the every little thing, our curiosity spilling out in the form of endless questions. But as we get older, that curiosity is curbed to a great extent. We become overwhelmed with living our lives where studying and working are the top priorities. We simply lose the sense of wonder so much so that we wouldn’t mind going through sensory overload once in a while. 
Good science fiction contains an element of wonder; there’s always something we haven’t come across yet., something that hasn’t given away wonder in order to become mundane. A new possibility. A beginning of what-if. Something that pokes at your beliefs. We know it isn’t real but entranced by the possibility, the implications of the action being taken, the immense plot revealed for the reader in all its glory; we develop a sense of wonder.

PLOT REVELATIONS

There’s always the question of whether the plot will manage to leave us in shock and awe. This is a turning point in any science fiction because it tests the reader as much as it tests the character because both are experiencing the full force of it for the first time (usually). It can end either way. Probably why there are so many things one can simply love or hate, there’s no inbetween with them. It’s like the fate of the world depends in the hands of an 11-year-old Ender and everything is alright in the world again.

Or not.

The worst case scenario is when the revelation just leaves you indifferent. You cannot bring yourself to care no matter what you do. All you can think is why would any reasonable person do this. The fate of the world cannot depend on an 11-year-old Ender because duh.

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THE MYSTERY ELEMENT

Science delves into mysteries all the time whether it’s testing out a new technology or developing a cure for cancer. Science fiction works the same way. Sometimes it’s better to tell the backstory than to show it. The mystery can either be about what’s going on with the story of the characters in it as long as the reader doesn’t lose interest. If the execution is done right, our curiosity is fed.

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PLAUSIBILITY

It’s always been said that there’s only so much you can read about until it turns into a cliche. Science fiction hasn’t escaped that fact but this doesn’t mean that readers don’t want plausibility. I’d like to think that there’s a reasonable explanation, a science behind it all. Questions are just the beginning. As a reader, I want the book I’m reading to make me curious and not just gloss over the details to get to the romance or the main conflict.

Scientific plausibility is a plus in science fiction. Sometimes, TV shows and movies ignore it which only angers hardcore sci-fi fans. We all know time travel isn’t possible (yet) but if there’s a possible explanation of it, I’d like to know!

(This is not to say that I will hate a book if it doesn’t explain the science properly because a chance of it really happening on earth is really no comparison to teleporting but that doesn’t make teleporting any less awesome.)

EMOTIONAL PUNCH

You’re reading a science fiction book which has everything. An absolute sense of wonder about the setting, the plot reveal shatters your illusions about life, the mystery is too hard to handle and it feels like something that could totally happen right now- but the main character is a drab. Instead of the book giving you the emotional punch, you want to give the main character a kick in the gut. You’re baffled because the concept is out-of-this-world good but the character is ruining everything for you. You’re not emotionally invested, there’s no moment happening and you feel like you don’t care about the stakes because you don’t know their importance.
That’s the power of emotion; it can make or break a science fiction for you. Pixar knows it.
Oh, WALL-E… *goes into a corner and sobs* Source