Beauty and the Beast

Maybe Beauty and the Beast is my favorite fairy tale because it's about seeing deeper than the surface of someone. Or maybe because the story is so rich with symbolism. Or maybe because I just love romances that start off as friendships and grow deeper.

Like lots of little girls, I loved Disney's Beauty and the Beast. I watched the heck out of it. Later, I had a brief fascination with Phantom of the Opera. (Okay, still do, if we're being honest, even though it's quite different from the fairy tale.) And then I (finally) discovered BEAUTY and ROSE DAUGHTER by Robin McKinley, which are both retellings of Beauty and the Beast -- and they're very different from each other! It wasn't long before I discovered East of the Sun, West of the Moon and how similar it is to Beauty and the Beast. So I ended up with books like SUN AND MOON, ICE AND SNOW by Jessica Day George, and EAST by Edith Pattou, and I've got ICE by Sarah Beth Durst on my shelf waiting for its turn.

I haven't read all the Beauty and the Beast retellings out there (and likely haven't heard of even most of them); I try to space them out for when I need a fix of a new one. I'm very glad it's such a popular story, though, because the moment when Beauty (or whatever she happens to be going by in that incarnation of the story) realizes that Beast (or whatever he happens to be going by in that incarnation of the story) is not just a beast, but a person who she's grown to love -- oh yes. I love that part so much. I could (and do) read it again and again.

*swoony sigh*

--

Jodi Meadows is the author of INCARNATE. (January 31, 2012 - HarperCollins/Katherine Tegen Books.)

She lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, with her husband, a Kippy*, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict, and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. You can find her on her website and blog.

*A Kippy is a cat.

Don't ask me to talk about Fringe. I might not stop.

One of my favorite TV shows is the one I'm catching up on right now: FRINGE. I love this show with hearts and flowers and lots of nerdy glee. There are two shows I do NOT want spoilers for, and FRINGE is one of them. (The other is SUPERNATURAL.)

Every now and then, when I can shake myself out of the sheer joy of this show existing, I try to analyze what, exactly, is working so well for me. On my personal blog, I've written a couple posts about TV shows before -- Six Things Stargate: SG1 Taught Me About Writing and Six Things Supernatural Taught Me About Writing -- but FRINGE is one I haven't gotten to yet. I'm definitely going to try some time.

Anyway. FRINGE?

I love the mystery of not knowing what's going to happen, because they've shown the viewer that anything can happen. One of the characters constantly reminds the others (and therefore the viewers) that the only limit to science (and the show) is imagination. Rules can be broken. Mysteries can lead to deeper mysteries. Everything can turn upside down in minutes.

The plot is complex, and again, anything can happen, but whatever happens always feels right. The writers clearly have a plan, and they're choosing the best ways to reveal information to the viewer. They do a great job of anticipating viewer assumptions, explaining things most people probably don't know, and being convincing even when the show is based on "fringe science." "Pseudo-science," they call it in the show.

I love the mix of serious and humor. Bad things happen, and things get worse, but someone is always there to make an inappropriate comment when the viewer really needs the tension to ease a little.

And oh, the characters. I love how Peter and Olivia both have tough outsides, and they're both so darn competent -- but the viewer gets to see those moments of vulnerability and insecurity. The viewer gets to see where they are human. And Walter! Hilarious, kind of scary, but extremely sympathetic because he knows that he's lost so much of his mind. And Astrid! She doesn't make it onto the covers of the DVDs, but dang, there's nothing that girl can't do. Plus she's kind and gentle, and often plays the role of the group's conscience.

I love how you can see how all the characters interact differently with one another. I love how their relationships evolve, how close they become, how much it hurts you when they hurt. . . .

Apparently I really can go on and on about FRINGE. There's nothing I don't like about this show. (Even if I do sometimes have to look away from gross things. And even if Walter is trying to ruin every yummy food there is by comparing it to disgusting things.) I'm pretty sure the writers begin their meetings with, "So, what can we do this week to make Jodi happy?"

--

Jodi Meadows is the author of INCARNATE. (January 31, 2012 - HarperCollins/Katherine Tegen Books.)

She lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, with her husband, a Kippy*, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict, and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. You can find her on her website and blog.

*A Kippy is a cat.

Masks

Oh Halloween. The time of masks.

You may have noticed I rather like masks.

Masks can be beautiful and terrifying. They can be eerily serene or make bold statements. A good mask will haunt and intrigue you. It may delight you or reveal something about the wearer you hadn't noticed before.

You can make them with bright colors or muted colors. Beads, feathers, flowers, gemstones. Plastic, wood, ceramic, paper, paint, glitter glue. Masks can be made of so many wonderful things.

And they can be invisible.

People--including characters--wear masks all the time. There's the face we show others, and the parts we keep hidden. Masks are armor. Some are bigger, fuller, more opaque; some are translucent wisps of fog. But everyone has a mask or ten that slip in and out of place with every interaction.

What are your characters' masks? What does each mask say about your character? What happens when the masks come off?

--

Jodi Meadows is the author of INCARNATE. (January 31, 2012 - HarperCollins/Katherine Tegen Books.)

She lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, with her husband, a Kippy*, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict, and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. You can find her on her website and blog.

*A Kippy is a cat.

Being edited makes me happy

This is not going to come as a surprise, but I love being edited.

I wasn't sure quite what to expect when I got my first edit letter. Something awful? Something soul-rending? I've heard enough writers wail about their edit letter and the impossibleness of it that I knew enough to be nervous. But I also hoped it would be like the most amazing critique from a smart writing friend I'd ever gotten -- only BETTER.

Basically, it was. I mean, yes, there were some difficult parts. You want me to do WHAT? But the first time I read the letter, I felt this huge sense of relief. It wasn't scary. I could see where my editor really cared about the story, and all the important things she spotted and wanted me to draw out. I could see where she was trying to make me a better writer.

In fact, once I was finished with editing INCARNATE, I moved on to use the same letter for book 2. Just judging by what she'd pointed out in the first, I could tell what she'd ask for in the second. I revised book 2 according to the first letter so she wouldn't have to ask for the same changes twice. Because how boring is that? This way, we could move on to new things. Better things. More advanced things. This way, book 2 will be even better than book 1. And if the pattern holds, book 3 will be best of all.

I learned that this shouldn't be a scary process. It can be intimidating, sure! But the right editor will inspire and help draw out the most important parts of the book. She will help make a good book great, and encourage the writer to try new things, to stretch herself. The right editor will make a story shine without ever showing that she was there.

So yeah, I love being edited. I love learning from someone as brilliant and inspiring as my editor.

--

Jodi Meadows is the author of INCARNATE. (January 31, 2012 - HarperCollins/Katherine Tegen Books.)

She lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, with her husband, a Kippy*, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict, and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. You can find her on her website and blog.

*A Kippy is a cat.

Revision, pouting, and shading

I like revising, so I find I don't need a lot of tricks or things to get myself in the revision mood. I just sit down to work. It makes me happy.

The thing I have discovered about my revision process is this: sometimes I need a draft or two to get used to the idea of big changes.

Recently I was working on revising the beginning of a book. I knew it didn't work. I KNEW it. The beginning made the structure wonky, the pacing weird, brought up things that were never mentioned again in the book . . . yeah. It didn't work. It had to change.

But let me tell you, I resisted. I revised those first few chapters over and over, determined to keep them because the setting/information/revelations were going to be important in the next book in the series. But what I SHOULD have been thinking about was what was important for THIS book.

After a couple friends said, "Jodi, this isn't working," and I slumped in my chair to pout for a few days, I finally accepted the idea of having to make a huge change.

I tried on several new beginnings to see how they looked, and to see whether I could find a way to include the same information that I'd thought was so important.

It turns out? Yes. All that was possible, even though the idea of such a big change after so much was written -- that was scary. My new beginning still required a few more drafts to fit juuuust right, because I'm a shader -- I shade in depth, worldbuilding, information, and all that good stuff in the revisions -- but in the end, I was much happier with the story. And the next person who read it? Had nothing to negative to say about the beginning.

--

Jodi Meadows is the author of INCARNATE, book one of the Newsoul Trilogy. (January 31, 2012 - HarperCollins/Katherine Tegen Books.)

She lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, with her husband, a Kippy*, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict, and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. You can find her on her website and blog.

*A Kippy is a cat.

How I make my characters suffer with school

I write fantasy/dystopian/sci-fi/something not quite definable, so my characters are rarely in actual school -- at least for the duration of the story. Or, rather, if they have school, it's not like school as we know it.

In INCARNATE, Ana is basically shuffled around from expert to expert. If she wants to learn about beekeeping, she goes to that person's house and learns about beekeeping. If she wants to learn baking -- same thing. The powers that be in Range do care about Ana's schooling, which they show by requiring yearly examinations and monthly progress reports.

The thing I've found about characters in school is this: it's not usually very interesting. We've all been to school. We know what it's like. And we don't need the classes again unless plot is happening there.

What interests me more about characters in school is their decisions and consequences. What happens if they don't do well enough? What happens if they get caught skipping for the sake of the plot? What happens if they skip the plot for school?

Give them a choice. Make big consequences for either response.

The focus on Ana's schooling in INCARNATE is minimal. I bring it up every now and then, because it's important to know that she's not just whiling away her hours at home. She's out there doing stuff. I have other characters nag her about progress reports. I introduce a few threats of what will happen if she doesn't go to school.

For me, school is a complication for the characters. It's a real thing! They have to go there and deal with it! But I see it more as a source of conflict.

I like it when the characters have conflict.

--

Jodi Meadows is the author of INCARNATE, book one of the Newsoul Trilogy. (January 31, 2012 - HarperCollins/Katherine Tegen Books.)

She lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, with her husband, a Kippy*, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict, and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. You can find her on her website and blog.

*A Kippy is a cat.

Four tricks for making your middle more interesting

Middles are TOUGH. Whether it be the middle of a book, or the middle of a series (dreaded Middle Book Syndrome!), it can be hard to keep the story momentum going, keep the surprises coming, and keep the reader on the edge of their seat.

The alternative is letting the reader wonder when something interesting is going to happen. *shudder*

I have a few tricks for keeping the middle interesting.

1. If it isn't interesting, skip it.

For real. Just chop it out. If you're bored by it, the reader will be to. Cut it. No one wants to read boring.

2. Blow up something.

It doesn't have to be a literal explosion (though it can be!), but external conflicts are filled with potential. Who did the exploding? Why? Was their goal accomplished? How does it affect the protagonist? What will the protagonist do about it? Basically, complicate things. No, REALLY complicate things.

3. Have someone change sides.

What if a bad guy becomes a good guy? (Can the good guys trust him/her?) What if a good guy becomes a bad guy? (Did s/he really change sides, or are they secretly a double agent?) Or-- It doesn't even have to be as literal as that. Take a character's (and therefore reader's) assumption and turn it over. NOW what happens?

4. Tell the reader a secret.

I think too often we try to keep the really good reveals for the end. And while, yes, some must be held for the last moment, think about what you're holding back. How would it change things if the character knew . . . earlier? What would they do? How would they react?

What about you? Any favorite tricks for dealing with the middle of the story?

--

Jodi Meadows is the author of INCARNATE, book one of the Newsoul Trilogy. (January 31, 2012 - HarperCollins/Katherine Tegen Books.)

She lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, with her husband, a Kippy*, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict, and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. You can find her on her website and blog.

*A Kippy is a cat.

Supporting characters, uh, support?

Secondary characters give primary characters life.

When we're writing, it's easy to focus on the main characters. I don't know about the rest of you, but it's usually the main characters who inspire me to write the book in the first place. I get attached to their story and want need to tell it. I could follow the characters around for chapters not caring about anything else.

Except there's, you know, that whole story thing. And story typically involves a few more characters.

The truth is, it's hard to see who the main character is when we've got her by herself. But when you let her interact with other characters, we begin to see the way she changes (or doesn't change) to fit with them. And maybe we know she's going to behave one way with the love interest because she's got the hots for him, but we see more sides of her when there are supporting characters around. Not just the side she wants to present to the love interest.

They give the worldbuilding depth and the story scope. Secondary characters do jobs in the world, like run businesses or teach the main character an invaluable skill. They keep the world from toppling over. It's hard to believe an entire complex society might exist if there are only two or three people in it.

And their stories influence -- and are influenced by -- the plot the main character is dealing with. Secondary characters can get in the way of a car chase, or help out. Their minor crisis at home might escalate and cause them to do something crazy in the main character's path, causing the main character to deal with the fallout from that.

There are lots of opportunities for secondary characters to shine. It's easy to overlook them, especially when we're writing and not quite as in love with them as we are other characters. But take a moment to think about your secondary characters. What can they do today? How can they help or hinder your main character? There's a lot of untapped value there.

--

Jodi Meadows is the author of INCARNATE, book one of the Newsoul Trilogy. (January 31, 2012 - HarperCollins/Katherine Tegen Books.)

She lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, with her husband, a Kippy*, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict, and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. You can find her on her website and blog.

*A Kippy is a cat.

Heroic qualities

I can't say I have a favorite hero. I hate picking favorites! It makes me feel so guilty. Instead, I will tell you about the qualities of my favorite type of hero.

Smartsiness: They don't have to be a brain surgeon, but I do like to imagine the character possesses a brain. My ideal hero doesn't forget things when it's convenient for the plot, or struggle with simple plot problems because it makes their head overheat. My ideal hero is reasonably clever.

Common sense: Similar to smartsiness, but different. This is the character who decides not to go into the basement during a midnight thunderstorm because they heard a noise. This is the character who takes warnings into account and knows that if the sky is cloudy it might rain.

Wit: I love characters with a sharp sense of humor. This is hard to pull off, because humor is so subjective, but yeah, I like it when they're funny.

Strength: To do what is right, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.
Wisdom: To know what is right. To consider other people's feelings. To make difficult choices. To step up to a challenge when no one else will. To question things others won't.

Good heart: For me, this is a must. It doesn't have to be obvious -- even darker anti-heroes can have good hearts -- but it must be there. It must inform their choices, their sense of duty, and give them honor.

This may seem like a pretty strict set of requirements for my ideal hero, but it's really not. There's room for all kinds of characters with all kinds of personalities. It's unreasonable to expect a character to have all that all the time. It leaves no room for growth if they're already perfect, and character growth is one of the things that makes characters fascinating. I love watching a hero develop the strength and confidence to take on the world. I love watching their wisdom expand, their wit evolve.

Flaws make characters interesting. They make characters relatable because who here is perfect? (You with your hand up -- do you fart rainbows? YES??!?? There's medication for that. Seek help now.)

What about you? What quality do you admire most in a hero?

--

Jodi Meadows is the author of INCARNATE, book one of the Newsoul Trilogy. (January 31, 2012 - HarperCollins/Katherine Tegen Books.)

She lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, with her husband, a Kippy*, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict, and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. You can find her on her website and blog.

*A Kippy is a cat.

Why my genre gets a venn diagram

Because of my premise -- everyone is reincarnated -- my genre was chosen for me. Sort of.

INCARNATE's genre is hard to pin down because it has so many different elements by the premise's very nature, so I find myself sneaking into lots of different subgenre groups.

The story is set in another world and has dragons, which sort of makes it fantasy. But the world also has lasers and automated work drones, which sort of makes it science fiction. There's a love story between the only girl who's new and one of the people who's been reincarnated for the last very long time, and that sort of makes this a paranormal romance. Finally, there's eugenics-as-a-good-thing and a perfect-society-except-spoiler, which sort of makes it dystopian.

It's a little bit of a lot of things, which can be awkward to explain, but I've learned to embrace my story's differences and refusal to conform. The truth is, I like things that are different, and things that challenge me to think in new ways. I enjoy mixing genres and seeing where stories take me when I don't try to contain them.

But Jodi, you may be saying, your book is listed under dystopian on this very blog!

That's true, but I have to call it something, and my editor likes calling it dystopian. Individual readers may see it as more one subgenre than another, and that's absolutely fine with me.

Why I Write About Characters Taking Risks

When I was a kid, my dad was something of a fantasy nerd. And a computer nerd. As a result, I grew up on video games like ULTIMA, MIGHT AND MAGIC, and WIZARDRY.

Well, less WIZARDRY because the one game I tried in that series, you could save the game, but if your characters died, that was it. They were dead. I did not like that.

See, I anthropomorphize and personify things like nobody's business. I could tell you about the legions of stuffed animals I kept as a kid, even when they turned old and ratty, because I couldn't stand to hurt their feelings by throwing them away. But I won't. This time.

But all that to say, I really felt for the characters in those games. I couldn't stand to see them get hurt. One of my earliest games was ULTIMA: EXODUS. I honestly don't remember much about that game, because I was just a little Jodi, but I do remember having to get my characters out of the city, monsters in the wilderness, encroaching darkness . . . and how I got to the same point in the game at least four times and refused to go on, because that would mean risking my characters' lives.

Then the (virtual) world ended.

One of the important things my dad said to me was, "Save your game." I got used to doing this any time there was a monster fight. And then again after. I became a compulsive saver and eventually learned how to risk my characters' lives, because I knew I could resurrect them if it came to it, and putting the characters through all the monster-slaying and whatnot was the only way for them to level up and save the world.

When I started writing, the same thing happened. I was afraid to risk characters. I loved them! They were the children of my brain! How could I even think about hurting them? But then I realized that by doing that, I wasn't using them to their full potential. The world would end for them, just like it did for the poor characters in ULTIMA: EXODUS. If I wanted to test the characters and make the story worth experiencing, I had to learn to let them take risks.

I had to take risks in order to make the story worth reading.

So thanks, nearly traumatizing video games! Thanks to all the world-ending (though somehow it survived enough to get a sequel, in spite of the way I didn't save the world), and thanks to the characters dying everywhere. Thanks to the magic save button.

Just thinking about that, I'm inspired to let my characters take a few risks. (Maybe they'll die. Maybe they won't. Who knows!)