Eric Devine's Blog, page 14

The Monomyth, My Students’ Journeys, and My Fear

On September 20, 2013, I challenged my college level World Mythology class to embark on their own Monomyth. For the past four months they have been on their journeys, succeeding, failing, and changing direction. Tonight, over dinner and dessert, they present their journeys to their families, staff, and administration. I am exceptionally nervous.

You see, I’ve never done this before. Have never said, “Hey kids, go change your lives and document the change, because you’ll be graded on it.” I have often thought during this semester: What am I doing?

That’s because there have been other end-of-the-semester presentations, but they have been of the academic bent, highlighting research. Throughout the semester I have demanded high academics, so the course has not suffered, but this direction I’m taking the culmination has not been done.

And like with all new things, I’m second-guessing my choice. Not because of the students’ presentations, but because of the potential reaction.

It is my sincerest hope that the audience gets this. I want them to see that the purpose of education, in regard to mythology, is not to learn every name of every god and goddess, nor every creation and flood myth, but to understand the nature of storytelling.

All our lives our stories: the ones others tell about us, and the ones we tell ourselves. Throughout the course I have asked the students to look for this again and again: myth as a suggestion for how to live. And in the Monomyth, often the ordinary individual becomes the hero. I cannot think of a better message to send to my students.

I want them to see that being the hero is recognizing you are the narrator of your life. Narrator does not equal master. Often life moves out of our control, and this truth must be accepted. However, that does not leave us powerless. We can focus on the details that matter, and we can shift the story’s perspective, so the tragic is a blessing, and the mundane, paradise.

This is why I wanted my students to change something, because the practice of altering one’s life is the heart of success. All too often there is a passivity to how we approach who and what we are, how we live. There a myriad reasons for this: fear, complacency, indifference, and on and on. Regardless of the source, the results are often sad and about “lives of quiet desperation.”

Therefore, it is my greatest hope that the families and staff gathered will understand my premise, that to properly educate is to simply tell a story. One that’s been told countless times. The trick, however, is to tell it in a way that entices and that asks the listener to question it, and to analyze it, and in some way, make it his or her own.

Tonight, we will all teach one another, and then let the stories echo, and live on.

Belated New Year

Last week, post Holidays, I wanted to write something profound. New Year, new insights, etc. That didn’t happen.

After a very nice Christmas with my family, I got very ill. Fortunately, not with the stomach bug that’s going around, but with either a severe reaction to a medicine I took, or the coincidence of having taken that medicine at the same time I got ill.

Either way, New Year’s Eve morning, 2 am, I awoke shivering, and could not stop. I didn’t have a fever, and my joints throbbed as if I’d just done Olympic lifts for a day straight.

Of course we had company on the way for that night, and my wife had put in hours of prep time, so I wouldn’t think of it when she suggested cancelling. I said hey to my friends when they arrived and then spent the night in my room under covers, watching HGTV and trying not to shiver.

I saw the ball drop only because I dragged myself out of bed to do so, and then I plugged in earbuds to drown out my now very loud friends, and went to sleep.

This went on for a couple of days. During that time, I barely ate and mostly sat in the corner reading The Walking Dark. I think reading something about the plague would have been more appropriate.

I managed to recover enough to eat meals, and to have conversations, and eventually return to work, now that break is over. I’m still not 100%. This rattle in my chest needs to go. But, in spite of a lousy end to my time off, break was excellent.

With two young daughters, Christmas is a grand event, and I cherish how much they love it. And then we had snow and they played in it, and then I was well enough to make zombies and snow angels.

Being temporarily ill affords you the perspective that life will get better and reminds you to appreciate it when it does. So possibly that’s my insight for the New Year. It’s not exactly a new one for me, but an appropriate reminder of just how good I have it.

So here’s to 2014. I’ll have another novel out in the fall. I don’t yet know when I can talk about it, but I promise I will, and hopefully you will all enjoy.

Preferably, not while ill, wrapped in blankets, shivering.

Zombies and Snow Angels

What better way to recover from my recent illness and enjoy the snow, than to trek outside with my youngest daughter and pay an homage to Calvin and Hobbes:

We did redeem ourselves with snow angels, though, so we’re in the clear with my wife

 

Ringing the New Year with the Flu

I’m sick. Like shaking uncontrollably, joints on fire, and possessing a rather zombie-looking pallor.

Whatever hit, did so at 2 am, Tuesday, and I barely opened my eyes to see the ball drop last night. But there was an upshot in all this that warms my depressed heart.

While I was not sleeping, Tuesday morning, I was writing, inside my head. I’m currently reading The Walking Dark, and it is as creepy as the title sounds. Therefore, in my mind, I was within the pages of that dark novel, writing new scenes, projecting on those to come. And it all sounded pretty good. If I’d had any energy I would have found a notebook, but it’s probably best that I just lay there.

The takeaway for me is that in spite of my current illness, my body’s itching to get back to writing, which I haven’t done any of since the 20th. Therefore, I’m excited to get over this sickness and get back to my work. I have three projects on the go and I am so very thrilled to be able to work like this, in sickness and in health

Happy 2014!

Merry Everything

The last-minute EVERYTHING is here, so it only makes sense that I write a last-minute post wishing you a festive holiday season

Whatever you celebrate, enjoy. I don’t understand the irritation with people offering the “wrong” holiday greeting, because if someone is just trying to be nice, accept that. Embrace the positive, and be grateful that it exists.

I am so grateful for all the good I’ve experienced this year; it has certainly tempered all the negative. And that is my wish for all of you throughout the holidays, and certainly through the New Year.

2014 will bring another novel, and trust me, I have even more in store. So thank you for following along so far. I will do my best to continue to make it worth your while.

But for now, Merry Everything. We all deserve it.

Smile, Please

Worst part of my signing tonight: No one was smiling. Some looked downright angry to be in B&N. Kinda sad.

— Eric Devine (@eric_devine) December 7, 2013

Best part of my signing tonight: 1. Raising $ for my school. 2. Seeing @NatanatorC, who hooked up her friends with copies of TAP OUT

— Eric Devine (@eric_devine) December 7, 2013

This past weekend I had a signing/Book Fair at the Barnes and Noble in Colonie. The Book fair is a fundraiser where a school receives proceeds from the purchases made during the time of the event. Students from Burnt Hills-Ballston Lake High School, my school, greeted customers, handed out candy canes, and wrapped gifts, all in an effort to boost sales, provide a nice experience for customers, and instill that holiday spirit. Only, there was one problem, as you’ll note from my “Best Part” “Worst Part” tweets above.

It was disheartening to be standing on the other side of the signing table, watching customer after customer, young, old and every age in between, walk past with a perma-scowl.

At first I thought it was just me being sensitive because I was signing and trying to help out my school, but I soon recognized that this wasn’t the case. 

As I do when signing, I inform people, who give the curious glance, just what I’m selling/signing. I also have my iPad set up with the trailer for Dare Me, in case people would rather watch than listen to me. Time and again, after I said, “Teen fiction”, frowns deepened. Some laughed wryly and said, “I need no more teen anything in my life,” as if adolescence is something to endure and be forever rid of.

Possibly for many, it is.

One woman said, “Being a teenager was tough enough for me, and tough enough raising my daughter through her teens years.” She couldn’t fathom how reading about teenagers would be a positive experience. My heart broke a bit with each of these exchanges.

Have no fear, many did stop and chat and watch the trailer, and ultimately had me sign. Some picked up both Dare Me and Tap Out. It was a positive event for sales, but I did not leaved pleased. Because it’s not solely about the sales.

I know how difficult this time of year is, and I know how difficult it is to be a teenager. I’ve struggled in many ways on both fronts, but the one thing I did all evening, and the one thing I’ve tried to do trough it all, is smile. And not some artificial, plastered on grin. I try to see the forest for the trees and accept that whatever is distressing me at the moment will pass. I try to appreciate the here and the now. Because I’ve learned too many times how that is all we are ever promised.

It is my wish for anyone who’s out there with the searing scowl, that you find something to brighten your day, to make you smile. And no, it doesn’t have to be shopping after working a long week and fighting for a spot in the parking lot. I understand that me behind a table with a stack of books may not bring a smile to your face. But I do hope for you that something does.

Because in my work, both in the classroom and in my books, I try to demonstrate the message that there is good in spite of the darkness. And if you’ve read my work, you know I spend a lot of time in that darkness. But there is light. There is hope. Even if there’s only a trace. There is something.

And in these dark winter months to come, I hope people turn to books for a source of hope. To teen fiction, to adult fiction, to children’s fiction, to all of the non-fiction. Anywhere that helps.

Because the holidays are too short to pass by in anger, as is life. So try it with me now. Just a little grin. Maybe one corner of your mouth. Now the other. Watch out, because here it comes, a full on smile. Now, hold it. remember how this feels.

Repeat as necessary

Some Good News & My Last Event of The Year

I begin each of my classes with Good News from my students. They talk about how happy they are about finally getting enough sleep, or seeing THE MOVIE that’s out, or just getting to hang with friends. Simple stuff that should not be overlooked. Because all those little things, sometimes they are the big things. I don’t offer good news, because it is about them and not me, but I can share some with you.

Now, I did make the rounds with this on Facebook and Twitter, so if it’s redundant, I apologize. But I think it’s worth repeating that both the LA Times and the Chicago Tribune have included Dare Me in their holiday gift guides for books for Young Adults. It’s pretty fantastic that my work is on the radar of such institutions. Now I can only hope that parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc. start showing up to their bookstores looking for Dare Me. I do hope they remember my name or at least the cover image, or they may end up with Megan Abbott’s YA novel of the same name. A phenomenal story, but wholly different than mine.

Please feel free to share this gift idea with family and friends. Dare Me has appeal for both males and females. I’ve read reviews from teen readers and they love it all around. And also feel free to share the next bit as well.

This Friday, December 6th, I will be taking part in a signing/fundraiser at Barnes and Noble in Colonie for Burnt Hills-Ballston Lake High School. I’m there from 4-7, but the fundraiser goes on all day. The school gets a percentage of total sales so long as patrons use the certificates at the register. There are piles of them at the checkout, but students will also be handing them out along with candy canes and other goodies. Additionally, we have gift baskets up for raffle, and last, but not least, it’s Polar Express night.

At 7:00, the staff hand out cookies and hot chocolate and read the classic Christmas tale to the children in the store. I can’t think of a better way to support the community, get in the Christmas spirit, and have a fun Friday out.

I hope to see you on there, and I promise to pass along any additional good news between now and then. Trust me, like all good gifts, I’ve got some on the way.

Feeling the Love at NCTE

This past weekend at the National Council of Teachers of English Annual Convention was all about feeling the love. I know the motto was (Re) Inventing the Future of English, but that’s some title someone decided was necessary to give us direction. As if English teachers need any

For me, however, it was a trip of double-duty. I was there as an author and as an educator. Therefore, the experience was very symbolic of the differences in the two worlds in which I live, as well as the connections.

Prior to walking into the Hynes Convention Center, I had to stop at the Barnes and Noble in the mall to pick up a book suggested by my agent. While there, I just had to peek. Yup, there sat Dare Me, ready for purchase. I loved this fact.

Following this, I walked the exhibit hall, checking out the publisher and vendor booths. There was an alarming amount of materials and software programs available for purchase. All of it geared toward making our lives as educators easier, and somehow capable of this (re) invention. These booths were sparsely populated. The English teachers that did dare, dodged sales pitches and tried to assess the products for their merit.

The publisher booths were not sparsely attended; they were packed. Albeit, many were giving away books, so that’s an obvious draw. And many had famous authors signing, another enormous plus. However, the lines for these booths told the real story. English teachers, who were spending days being told how to (re) everything within the classroom, were willing to spend time in line, waiting for a book and a moment with an author. That’s so very telling. Educators clearly understood the power of returning to a classroom with books, and especially those signed and dedicated to their students.

This I adore, because it doesn’t get much more basic than a class and kids and books. No (re) invention here. Just the foundational basics that are necessary and that work, with the bonus of a dedication––possibly a promise for what may be achieved by reading.

I too, stood in line. For Bill Konigsberg’s Openly Straight. It’s an excellent story of a teen who tries to cast off a label, but ultimately understands the futility in denying oneself ownership of who he is. Bill was wonderful. Happy to have a fellow author, but more happy to have me as a reader and teacher, willing to share his novel with students who might not necessarily find it otherwise. Yes, I totally love this combination.

I love it almost as much as I love this next picture:

Two of my colleagues, Laurie Berner and Kim Shell, attended the conference and texted me this picture while they were in between sessions. I love them for taking the time to check out the booth where my work was displayed and letting me know they cared. This is the perfect blend of my two worlds.

I’m not going to lie; this is one of my favorite pics from the weekend: me signing away. My hour flew by, as I spoke with and signed for educators, excited to bring my work back to their students. All my books went, and I  can only hope that the students who read, remember to reach out to me afterward. I so want to hear their feedback. Because in spite of the audience of adults, I write for teens, and appreciate their insight.

And look who showed up again. How could I not love this?

And here is possibly the highlight of my event: meeting A.S. King. She has written some of the best YA lit I’ve read, and having the opportunity to say hey and have a picture taken with her was a true honor. But what I loved about this moment is two-fold. One, she actually knew who I was. I’m sorry, but that recognition went straight through me and I am positive I blushed form head to toe. Two, I loved the down-to-earth nature she possesses. I had heard that meeting her would be very chill, but it was more chill than I had imagined.

We had signings at the same time, so I made a bee line to her both, after mine, and there she was, talking away with another fan, like she had all the time in the world for us. And she gave us that time. I can only imagine how many students will now benefit from the teachers who picked up her work and will now gladly bring it back to their classrooms, full of praise for the author and her stories. THIS is exactly why educators need more if this experience. It changes the dynamic and makes books so much more authentic.

My last event of the conference was a luncheon with teachers and a keynote address from Ishmael Beah, author of the memoir A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, and the soon-to-be-released novel, Radiance of Tomorrow. The dichotomy of the event could not have been more striking. As educators we sat and talked about the highs and lows of the conference, from the CCLS to just what mixed-modal meant. We examined and considered the title of the weekend. And then Beah spoke.

His speech was beautiful, and within it was the promise of everything we as educators hope for: finding a better way through language.

However, Beah comes from an oral tradition culture. His writing is infused with such, as was his speech. And the irony for me was profound. Beah spoke of learning narrative structure and of how to be a good listener and ultimately practitioner of the tradition and upstanding member of the community through storytelling. That’s it. It all boiled down to the stories. Speaking them. Listening to them. And owning them in a way so that you could retell them.

And for me that struck such a chord. Because as an author and educator this is exactly what I’m trying to do. I want to write well enough so that readers are engaged. I want them to be so invested that they then take ownership of the story and share it with others, so that the process continues. The same holds true in education. Regardless of the delivery, the stories I tell via a lesson plan or that the students create on their own through an essay or a presentation, the concept remains. Learn how to love the story and it will become a part of you, and you will be a part of it, and in the process both will grow.

It’s funny that it took a conference about (re) invention to bring this to light. Because we’re already there, always have been. We just need to remember what that looks like.

So thank you to everyone I met. I hope you share my work, and I hope your students enjoy it, and allow it to inform them, and then pass it along. I hope their stories grow from mine.

Maybe we can all reinvent ourselves, just not through an artificial application, but through the very organic aspect of stories. What’s there not to love in this? 

 

 

Back Porch Writer Interview

A couple of weeks ago I was fortunate enough to be interviewed by Kori Miller of Back Porch Writer, which is  a site dedicated to podcasts about all things writing. We spent a half hour talking about Young Adult literature, my books, and writing in general. If you have a half hour in which you’d like to listen to my insight about what I write and why I write it, please do so. Kori conducts a great interview and if you’re an author looking for some exposure, contact her. I had a blast.

Enjoy!

Listen: here

About that book ur hatin’ on…

Do you remember when you were a teen and you went online and found reviews of books before reading them? And you then blogged about them after reading?

Wait? What?

Forget what I just said, because if you’re roughly my age (35) or older, there was no internet until high school. Hell, there was no Internet; it was THE WORLD WIDE WEB. And we weren’t searching for book reviews.

However, today reviews abound. From the high-brow New York Times to the low-brow, one star, 20-word review on Amazon (that’s the minimum required), and all the blogs in between. In spite of all of the awesomeness that is the internet, this portal to, well, everything, do you know which reviews teens read?

None.

All right, not none, but I wanted to be dramatic. If any, they’ll read Amazon. Maybe, they’ll read Goodreads reviews, if a friend or parent has an account. And writing reviews? Sure. Some. But in comparison to the adults, not even a drop in the bucket.

Thus begins the paradox.

Reviews for YA lit are largely written by and for an adult audience. Now, I previously wrote about how I have no problem with having an adult audience. And I don’t, and I want them to keep reading and reviewing. My concern is this: when adults review from an adult perspective.

Young adult lit is first and foremost literature for teenagers. Adults read it as well. Great. However, imagine if we turned the table, and today’s teens read adult books, and then reviewed them. Across the board, not just here and there. Can you imagine how that would sound?

This novel didn’t really speak to me, because I don’t like have a mortgage or kids and really have no clue about a midlife crisis. Why should I? BTW, where’s the action in this story?

See how convoluted that was? And that’s my issue. So many reviews of YA lit (mine included) are written by adults speaking to adults, who don’t take into consideration that they are not the primary audience. YA writers move their words across the page and structure their stories in a fashion that is in step with the action, behaviors and beliefs of teens. Writers of adult fiction do the same for adults. Therefore, it only makes sense that the writing will not and should not be the same. How this gets lost is beyond me.

Yet it happens all the time. And I get angry and sad and frustrated, but know I am ultimately powerless. We as adults co-opt everything about youth culture, so I shouldn’t be surprised. But I am disheartened. Because teens don’t often find material on their own; they rely on adults (librarians and bookstores) to offer up selections.

And when those libraries and bookstores do not carry stories that may be the most suitable stories for these teens ever, because enough adults weren’t pleased, I feel like writing blogs like this and begging anyone who is about to review YA lit to remember what it was like for you as a teen.

Not the absence of computers and cell phones, but the feelings. The raw emotions. The randomness and lack of logic. The muddled world in which you lived and did your best to make sense of.

That world, the one that existed inside your head, and within your heart. It still exists. It looks different. It sounds different. And possibly it doesn’t fit you as well as it once did. But it’s not your call to say that it must. Because it’s not yours, it’s theirs.

Embrace and celebrate that difference. Don’t rob today’s youth of it.