Showing posts with label Dear Life You Suck. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dear Life You Suck. Show all posts

Saturday, October 5, 2013

YA Guy Posts a Letter

Now that Scott Blagden's DEAR LIFE, YOU SUCK giveaway is over, I thought I'd offer the following treat to those who enjoyed Scott's interview: the actual query letter he sent to Liz Bicknell at Candlewick Press. It's written in the voice of his irrepressible anti-hero, Cricket Cherpin, and it gives you some idea what to expect when you read DEAR LIFE, YOU SUCK. (It also says something about Scott's chutzpah!) So enjoy!

Dear Ms. Bicknell,

I just read a book you edited and I was like oh my god this author reminds me of the dude who’s writing my story like when he tells how my English teacher Foxy Moxie whisper-growls at me in class like she’s some highfalutin Roxbury street corner candybar bullhorning that she’ll oodle-a-noodle in the poopadaloopa if the price is right which reminds me of testicles on breasticles but don’t heavy-hymnal my ass if that naughtytime hankering is over the top onacounta I told him not to write it but he was like sometimes you have to write about old men poking little boys in the bum and sticky thongs and girls tinkling in the woods and other scratchy understuff as a way of exposing silky upperstuff and my author does a million things like that with goofy idiotsyncrasies and other poetic bisons like sometimes he’ll communicable things without actually saying them by dripping them metafornical and stuff and I’m not saying that my story is any great shakes or anything but it’s kinda interesting onacounta my fisticuffing encounters and my scar and Caretaker and my friend Grubs Dillar who ends up getting killed which is sad and my stupid crappy past onacounta how people like to read about bad things happening to other people which personally I think is fucked up and I’m like why don’t you go and read a story about your own stupid life and sometimes I feel like walking into Borders and popping some Harry Potter-eyeglasses-wearing douchebag square in the nose and be like there’s your blood and guts asshole how do you like it but I know I’d just get in more trouble than I already am and get like my two hundred and fifty millionth speech from Mother Mary Mothballs who punishes me like a real mom which is probably the only reason I’m still Superglued to this enormous floating ball of shit and my Dear Life You Suck English ASSignment letter which is really the funandmental point of the hole story which Moxie wants me to elaborate on like she’s all SPECIFICITY and I’m like this sliver of flimsy pulp ain’t nothing more than a see-ya-on-the-flipside farewell but to be honest I know it’s more and I do want to finish it before my eighteenth birthday which is in May and which is also D-Day and the place I live which I call the Prison but it’s really not a prison but I call it that onacounta it was a prison a long time ago back when dudes dressed like beefthiefs in silky knee-highs and poofy pantaloonies and the story room which used to be a guard tower where I tell tall tales to my roommates the Little Ones who are the reason I get in so many fights onacounta I defend them from bullies except Mother Mary says my fist flailing is really about something else and I use the Little Ones getting picked on as an excuse but I’m like oh yeah right like you dishing out free eats and sandpaper sheets to abandoned doorstep turds ain’t about something else too and my nighttime giggle-juice-induced rumpus ruckus on the Silky Jets that has wicked awesome God Art views of the briny deep and of course the silky girl Wynona.

Well, I gotta run on now.

Sincerely,

Cricket Cherpin (yeah, it’s my real name so you can corkitate the snickerfizzles.)
Professional Tagonist

PS        You should like write Scott a letter and ask him to send you some of his word diddlings onacounta I think you guys would hit it off and I don’t mean for that to sound sexplicitly grandiose or anything but literarically-speaking I mean.

PMS    I put his address on the flipside.  Graciass for reading this.

Friday, September 27, 2013

YA Guy Interviews... Scott Blagden (plus a giveaway!)

Well, as promised, YA Guy's back with an interview of Scott Blagden, author of DEAR LIFE, YOU SUCK. And there's a giveaway after the interview! So stick around, find out about Scott and his great debut, and enter for a chance to win some goodies (including the shirt pictured below)!



YA GUY: I loved Dear Life, You Suck, and I’d like to know some more about how you came to write it.  Can you tell us a bit about yourself, your history, and your decision to write a novel?

SCOTT BLAGDEN: I've always wanted to write, ever since high school, and I always knew that one day I’d write a novel. But in my twenties I got wrapped up in the business world, got married, had kids, and didn't write at all during that time. It wasn't until I got divorced in my forties that I realized if I was ever going to attain this dream, I’d better get started, so I did. Dear Life, You Suck is actually my fourth completed novel, but my first published one.

YAG: What was your path to publication? Any special surprises, disappointments, or delights?

SB: My path to publication was similar to most authors. Lots of previously unpublished novels, lots of rejection letters. One unusual thing did occur though on my path to publication. After literally hundreds of rejection letters for Dear Life, You Suck, I had the brilliant idea of writing a query letter in my main character’s voice and sending it to the editorial director at Candlewick in Boston. [Blogger's note: I'll be featuring Cricket's query letter in a future post!] Candlewick is a closed house, and at that time I didn't have an agent. The letter was pure Cricket--crass, sarcastic, funny, angry, profane. Fortunately, Liz Bicknell at Candlewick had a sense of humor, and she passed the letter along to an editorial assistant, Carter Hasegawa. They didn't offer me a contract with that version of the manuscript, but Carter liked the story and the character enough to offer me revision suggestions, which I made and which ultimately led to the version of the manuscript that got contracted with Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Another interesting fact is that Dear Life, You Suck got picked up out of the slush pile by my editor, Adah Nuchi, at HMH. It was a completely cold, unsolicited, unagented submission, so unpublished authors should not give up hope about slush pile submissions.

YAG: The narrator of Dear Life, You Suck, Cricket Cherpin, is a fascinating but prickly character, to say the least. Who or what was your inspiration for Cricket? What were the challenges of writing a character readers might not instantly like?

SB: I've done quite a few interviews about Dear Life, You Suck, but you’re the first person to ask me about opening the story with an unlikeable character. I'm glad you asked because this was a deliberate, albeit risky, decision. I wanted to present Cricket to the reader in the same way that we meet prickly, unlikable characters in real life --with no backstory. Personally, I know that I have a tendency to pass judgment on people within the first three minutes of meeting them, and this is something I know I shouldn’t do. Sometimes people just rub me the wrong way. They say things and do things that are rude and obnoxious, and I immediately think, “Wow, what a rude and obnoxious person.” Sometimes I don’t take the time to look at them deeper and consider what may be beneath the surface that is making them act and talk and think the way they do, and that's what I wanted to do with Cricket. I wanted to present the rough exterior of Cricket without any pitiable backstory and see if I could get readers invested enough in him as a person to hang in there and discover what’s beneath the scars. That’s why I intentionally mention his facial scar at the very beginning. One of those “metafornical” type things. It would have been much safer and easier to present’s Cricket’s backstory at the outset so that readers would pity him and cut him some slack when he acted like a jerk, but that's not how meeting people in real life happens, and I felt that would have been a lazy copout. I liked the challenge of creating an unlikable character from page one and hoping I could pique the interest of the reader enough to get him or her to hang in there long enough to discover what he’s really about. I'm sure I’ve lost readers by presenting Cricket this way, but I think for the readers who hang in there and look beneath the surface, beneath the scars, and are willing to take the time to get to know the why of Cricket, the experience is much richer and deeper. But it is risky.

In response to the first part of your question, my inspiration for Cricket came from my own childhood experiences, which were fortunately nothing compared to Cricket’s, but traumatic enough for me to gain insight into his emotions and voice.

YAG: One of the things that makes Cricket so unique is his penchant for wordplay (often of a scandalous or scatological nature). Writing Cricket’s monologues must have been fun--if maybe a little exhausting! How’d you arrive at Cricket’s voice?

SB: Cricket was a fun character to write. There were many days that I was literally sitting in front of my laptop laughing (or weeping) hysterically. I captured Cricket’s voice by just letting go. At first I started writing him just for fun, never considering that I’d be able to use any of his thoughts or dialogue in an actual manuscript I’d send out for publication. But I kept writing him because I was having so much fun. As I said, this was my fourth novel, the previous three being enthusiastically rejected, so I decided to write Cricket’s story for me, not for an editor or agent or publisher, and that attitude is what gave me the freedom and courage to completely let Cricket be himself. It’s was an invaluable learning experience--taking the gatekeepers out of the equation and letting the real Cricket bubble to the surface. When I stopped worrying about what readers might think about Cricket and focused completely on simply writing him as he truly was, I found his voice. I try to remember that for my current writing projects--to let the character be who he truly is and not worry about what the reader might think. I try to write with blinders on so that the real character comes through because I find when I think about what the reader might think, I censor my characters, which is the worst thing possible. All of my main characters have issues that make them somewhat unlikable on the surface, and this definitely creates a challenge. It's always tempting to soften the character up or introduce the pity factor early on, but those are copouts that lead to the reader not genuinely experiencing the real character as he truly is.

YAG: Along those lines, I’m interested in one aspect of Cricket’s personality that might bother some readers. When we first meet Cricket, his view of Christianity is irreverent if not downright blasphemous. Yet it seems that Christian beliefs, stories, and values are important to Cricket’s development and to the book as a whole. What’s your take on the role of religion in YA fiction?

SB: I don't have a specific opinion about the role of religion in YA fiction. I just happen to have characters who like to think about religion and philosophy because it’s something I like to think about. Questions of religion and spirituality are universal even for people who don't consider themselves religious or spiritual. Beneath all of our daily questions are bigger questions like Why are we here? and What’s the point of it all? We keep ourselves busy with mundane questions on a day-to-day basis but at some point we all sit back and wonder about bigger-picture stuff. What fascinates me about readers defining Cricket as atheistic or  blasphemous is that I consider Cricket to be more Christ-like than most of the Christians I know. Jesus was a bad ass. He questioned everything. He questioned his religion, his religious leaders, religion's role in society. When religion becomes organized, superficial things have a tendency to override and overwhelm the more important hidden things, and I think this is what upset Jesus the most and this is what upsets Cricket the most. The hypocrisy of the shiny fruit with the rotten core. People look at Cricket as being irreverent and blasphemous, but compared to Jesus, Cricket’s a softie. Jesus was so irreverent and blasphemous he was put to death for it.

YAG: Final question. The YA Guy blog, as you know, concerns itself with gender issues in Young Adult fiction. As one example, I’m interested in the question of whether there’s any usefulness to the category of “boy book.” Where do you weigh in on this, or on other issues that have to do with gender and reading/writing YA?

SB: It can be useful to categorize a book as a “boy book” if it helps catch the attention of educators or librarians who are always on the lookout for “boy books” to put into the hands of their reluctant boy readers. Where it's not useful is when a book gets pigeonholed as being a “boy book” and then girls don't read it and vice versa. I’ve been contacted by far more girl readers than boy readers and I’ve heard Dear Life, You Suck referred to quite often as a “boy book.” Maybe girl readers are just more inclined to contact an author than boy readers or maybe there are more girls reading my book than boys, I don’t know.

When I do hear from boys, it’s usually along the lines of, “I hate reading, but I loved your book.” Those are my favorite emails.

The reality is, some teen boys are crass, rude, profane, and mean. Emphasis on “some.” Our job as writers is to present characters as they truly are, not as society thinks they should be. Young readers are smart. Then know when a writer is trying to jam some lame message down their throat like hiding a dog’s medicine in a hunk of cheese.

Now, tell me your interest isn't piqued! (Or don't tell me, I don't care.) Just enter the giveaway and then I'll know!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

YA Guy Reviews... DEAR LIFE, YOU SUCK by Scott Blagden

It's DEAR LIFE, YOU SUCK week on YA Guy! Today, I've got a review of Scott Blagden's great debut novel. On Friday, I'll have an interview with Scott and a great giveaway! So read the review now, keep an eye out for the interview in a couple days, and make sure to enter the giveaway when it comes!


Scott Blagden’s Dear Life, You Suck hit YA Guy like a punch to the gut.

In a good way.

Blagden’s debut novel is not for the faint of heart (or stomach). The title delivers a fair warning. But it’s not until you enter the warped mind of narrator Cricket Cherpin, a sarcastic, pugilistic, foul-mouthed, drug-doing, suicidal seventeen-year-old living in a nun-run orphanage in small-town Maine, that you get the full picture.

Here’s a tiny sample of Cricket’s utterly unique voice, chosen more or less at random:

Cheesecake LaChance is a physiological dichotomy. He’s Beauty and the Beast incarnate. From the neck up, he’s as pretty as a transvestite prom queen. Ice-blue eyes, impeccably groomed butt-bandit beard, and perfect teeth like LEGO pieces. From the neck down, he’s as pretty as an Amazon jungle queen. Tree-trunk thighs, an ass the size of Brazil, and a belly that looks like he swallowed a Galapagos sea turtle. It’s hard to look at him without imagining his Grand Canyon ass-crack bent over a log-clogged toilet, a monkey wrench in his one hand and a plunger in the other.

That’s Cricket: irreverent, tongue-twisting, given to outrageous similes and egregious wordplay.

I won’t lie to you: it takes a few chapters to get accustomed to that voice. And it takes just as long to muster sympathy for the guy, who initially seems like the kind of teenager grownups like me are praying they’ll never have to spend any time with.

But once you’ve made the transition, Blagden’s book is little short of genius. Indeed, the mere fact that he manages to recruit readers to the side of his misanthropic anti-hero is a triumph in itself. But once you understand what makes Cricket tick, once you plumb the depths of his anger at the hand life has dealt him, you find yourself unable to stop reading and rooting for him.

I mean, how could you not root for a character who describes his confusion as follows: “Damn, life sure is carving crop circles in my ass tonight.”

And how could you not be moved by a passage like this, wherein Cricket apostrophizes the eternal:

Me and Art have a problem. The same way me and God have a problem. I mean, this scene is so out of this world, so inhuman and infinite, so boundless, so worthy and eternal. And human life is just so not. Yet I can’t deny a connection. An intermingling. A gravity. A pull. I mean, it sucks at my soul. Probably so it can digest me and shit me out when it’s done. That’s how the infinite makes me feel. Like a hunk of beef it’s gonna process and return to the dirt as fertilizer.

If you think that’s good, wait until you watch Cricket deconstruct the Immaculate Conception.

There’s not enough good I can say about Dear Life, You Suck. It’s hilarious, poignant, wrenching, profound, sad. It’s at once a twisted simulacrum of life and a transcendent celebration of it. It’s like Cricket himself: so surreal it’s all too real.

It’s a book I wish I wrote. About a guy I wish I knew.