When I decided I was going to be a Serious Writer way back in 2004, I read a lot of books on writing. I was a communications major in college — I took like, 2 writing classes — and so books were my only form of education on the matter. And having been homeschooled, I knew firsthand that everything a teacher can teach you can be found in a book. So I read books on writing. A lot of them. And I skimmed a lot of them, too.

(Incidentally, I remember being enormously unimpressed with everyone’s favorite book on writing, On Writing. It was a lot of autobiography and a lot of You Will Never Be Good Because Even I’m Not Good. I should probably visit it again now that I understand Stephen King a little better.)

Without further ado, here are the 3 books on writing I’ve found the most helpful. These are the books I didn’t skim, the books wherein I discovered dozens of useful ideas, the books I’ve reread several times.

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Save the Cat!

You may notice the subtitle of this book, which is “The Last Book On Screenwriting You’ll Ever Need.” Having written 2 feature-length screenplays (in the correct format thank you very much), this is mostly true. However, just because it’s an awesome book on screenwriting does not mean it has nothing to do with writing the novel.

There is loads of great advice in here on crafting your story. For instance, let me explain the main gimmick of the book, the “save the cat” device. I’ve used this countless times because I write shady protagonists. When you have a shady protagonist, you have to make that protagonist do something early on, a selfless act, that will let the audience understand that Deep Down This Is a Good Guy. Like someone might go out of their way to save a cat. In House, we don’t care that House is an angry, cruel person because he saves an innocent patient’s life. In The Catcher in the Rye, we don’t care that Holden Caulfield gets kicked out of school for laziness because we see he isn’t “phony.” Robin Hood gives to the poor. Tony Stark is nice to Pepper Pots. Jack Sparrow is a thief and a murderer, but a funny one.

There’s loads of great advice in the “save the cat” vein. I don’t consult this book immediately in my outlining process, but you bet it’s the first thing I go to when something isn’t working.

I’d recommend this if: You’re stuck on plotting or characterization, or you want to make sure that your plot and characters are the strongest they can be, that you’ve explored all your options.

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Bird by Bird

I am a pessimist. Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird was the first book on writing I read that embraced the pessimistic, realist side of the craft. A close second is Norman Mailer’s The Spooky Art, but that was ridiculously hard to get through and I can’t recommend it. (Sorry, Norman.)

This book taught me stuff like the notecard method, which is the most pain-free way I’ve ever encountered of outlining and troubleshooting your story. It told me it was okay to write “Shitty First Drafts” and be jealous of successful, snobby writing friends, and even that ending relationships with said successful, snobby writing friends might be better for me than bad. It showed me it might be okay to write 500 words a day as opposed to 1,000, if that’s all I can handle. The important part is writing every day.

Lots of good stuff here. But don’t take my word for it. *ba dah dah!*

I’d recommend this if: Books and blogs about writing are usually too cheery for your taste.

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The War of Art

I’ve read this book about once a year since I discovered it. This is my war manual. It tells me, in no uncertain terms, that yes, a lot of writing sucks, and yes, it’s supposed to. “Anything easy is not worth doing,” and what’s worse, “Anything easy means you’re probably doing it wrong and sucking at it and art should be a struggle, dammit.”

This book also addresses criticism. I know I’ve gotten criticism that makes me wish I’d stuck it out in front of the TV and never started writing, but this book helped me through those times.

It’s hard to sum up what exactly the advice in this book says. You just have to read it. It’s the best writing pep-talk you’ll ever get.

I’d recommend this if: You sit down to write and you find yourself procrastinating, or you’re having a hard time taking critique.

Don’t let any writer ever tell you that the process of writing is a simple one. They’re deluding themselves if they believe that is at all true.

Writing, writing well, I should say, takes effort.  I’d love to tell you that sitting down and pounding out page after well-written page is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.  I’d love to tell you that the greatest thrill in my life is feeling my butt going numb because I’ve been writing for eight hours at a time.  I’d love to, but I’m not going to lie.  Writing is hard work. It takes determination and more discipline than you could probably fathom.

Mostly, though, it takes heart.  I don’t mean some sweet little saccharine ideal of creative images crafted into reality on a white page.  What I mean is that it takes a willingness to be metaphorically naked to the world.

Ask a hundred writers and you’ll get a hundred different answers to the “what’s your writing process” question.  But each one of those hundreds, if they’re honest, will tell you the same thing: writing is a means of exorcising demons or putting on display all those dark skeletons we all keep well hidden.

It is also, very real, very difficult and very, very worth it in the end.

But I believe what is required as a writer is that determined willingness to be exposed, to demonstrate the cluster of universes that lay hidden in our minds.  It isn’t ever easy.  There are moments, many times actually, when the writer fails…when what she envisions in her mind simply refuses to present itself on the page…when what should be said, refuses to make itself known.

Like therapy, writing is a process.

It is an arduous journey not for the faint of heart or the lazy.

Writing, for a true writer, (not a hobbyist), is the instinctual necessity to release those voices and people and their stories from the mind.  It is a way to show the world how limitless your creativity can be.  It’s all parts compulsion and obsession, desire and need.

Writing can be the most difficult activity one will undertake while at the same time being the most fulfilling. What it mustn’t ever be, however, is dishonest or flippant or something you dread doing.

So if you’ve got the heart, if you’ve got the willingness to be naked in a crowded room (so to speak) then don’t make excuses.  Don’t accept your own limitations.  If writing is your compulsion, if it is as intrinsic to you as the swagger in your step or the timber in your voice, then do it.  Be willing to endure that nakedness and unafraid of how others may respond to it.

It starts, like most things, at the beginning.

So? What are you waiting for?  Get writing.

One of the things I love about having a writing group is that I now have people with whom I can chat about “the biz”–you know, all of the upcoming books I’m excited about, the blog controversies and the forum drama, the book deals and my own wishes-for-a-book-deal-chat that people I love but who are not writers just don’t understand (I can’t tell you how many times my husband has asked me what the difference is between a very nice and a nice deal). I mean, our loved ones may hear about some of this stuff anyway, but it’s always nice to have more people with whom we can babble about the stuff we’re obsessive about, you know?

Beth Revis has come up several times on our Interrobangs listserv. We all pretty much adore her–her personable and upbeat blog, the story of her long-sought-after book deal (ten trunk novels! With four under my belt, I can relate), not to mention the fact that her debut Across the Universe is fairly clearly, and unabashedly, sci-fi. Three of us Interrobangs are YA sci-fi writers ourselves, and so we’re always excited to stumble across rare stories of science fictional success.

I received an ARC of Across the Universe in the mail about a month ago, having quite forgotten that I’d requested one from her publicist at all. There was a lot of oohing and aahing among the group; we were all itching to read it. I dove in and ended up staying up until 5 a.m. to read it. And I really, really enjoyed it.

One of the things that I loved, but didn’t manage to squeeze into my review, is the fact that the primary romance is an interracial one. All of us are really interested in issues of diversity in YA, and so we definitely champion books with diverse portrayals of teens, and relationships, and sexualities, and identities. Interracial relationships in particular are so rare in YA (I can think of only one other off the top of my head–Astrid and Giovanni in Diana Peterfreund’s Rampant and Ascendant), and so when I realized that the primary relationship in Across the Universe was between a pale redhead and a dark-skinned boy, I let the Interrobangs know. I knew they’d be interested.

“You can even tell it’s an interracial relationship from the cover!” I told them, “Well, if you squint! But still!”

I was particularly excited about the cover because I knew that frank reflections of character race often don’t extend to cover art. I mean, you really can’t be part of the YA world and not know about the cover whitewashing controversies that have come before–of Justine Larbalestier’s Liar, of Jaclyn Dolamore’s Magic Under Glass, of Cindy Pon’s softback version of her debut Silver Phoenix.

But, looking at the cover of the ARC-version of Across the Universe, I thought that a publisher (Razorbill, in this case) had finally gotten it. Here was a cover where one of the characters (a romantic lead, no less!) had features that made it clear that he was a person of color. Sure, this was subtly communicated–it’s only a silhouette, after all. But (hooray! I thought), it was a step in the right direction.

I knew that there was a second version of the cover–I’d seen Beth’s announcement of it in her blog–but it looked like the only difference was a smattering of stars behind the couple. I didn’t think anything of it. Not until a few weeks after I finished Across the Universe, when I went to become a fan on the book’s facebook page. And saw a large image of the book’s new cover.

Something seemed off. I clicked back and forth between the different cover versions, frowning. I got out my ARC version, and held it up for comparison.

Shit! I thought to myself, because there are some times when only cursing will do. They whitewashed Elder.

Don’t see it? I’ve put together a little image for comparison.

The curves of his face have been minimized; his big, lush lips shaved down. Even his forehead is now badly photoshopped into a harsh straight line, and the coarseness of his hair is obscured.

Ugh! Yuck! Blargh! I thought That looks more like Jason, Amy’s ex, than Elder!

The changes are subtle, so it’s no wonder that no one’s noticed this yet, but then, the original cover was subtle, too.

I can already hear the excuses that apologists might make for the new cover. After all, in Across the Universe, Elder isn’t black. He is, however, distinctly not-white. He’s a member of a mixed, monoethnic race, and is described at several points in the novel as looking much more as he does in the ARC-version of the cover than the final version. Here are a few excerpts (page numbers are from the ARC):

Everyone on board has the same deep olive skin, the same dark brown hair and eyes (29).

and

Dark olive skin; milk-chocolate eyes with flecks of cinnamon that are narrow at the ends, almond shaped. It’s a handsome face, one I want to trust (78).

and

His face is soft, but has an edge to it that belies the innocent appearance he has while sleeping. I’m not sure what race he is–not black, but not white; neither Hispanic nor Asian. It’s a nice color, though–dark in a  creamy sort of way that compliments his almost-black hair. The high cut of his cheekbones and the strong curve of his forehead make him look instantly trustworthy, maybe even kind . . . his face is narrow but inviting, with almond-shaped eyes that pierce (86-87).

and

He’s so tall, it doesn’t feel fair to call him a boy, but at the same time, he’s got a bit of a baby face, as if he’s never seen or done anything to make him grow up, to make the angles of his face sharpen with the harshness of age (88).

I don’t see the baby face in the new cover. I don’t see the muddle of ethnicities. I see someone whose face has been changed to look exactly like every other boy on every other YA book cover. I see someone who has been made to look white.

What makes this particularly upsetting is that the racial differences here are important. The fact that Amy and Elder, the book’s dual narrators, don’t look alike forms one of the novel’s central conflicts and actually sparks much of the book’s action. Because Amy looks different from Elder and from all of the people on his spaceship, her presence is seen as a danger. The leader of Elder’s community threatens to throw her out of the airlock because her pale eyes and bright hair will inevitably cause discord (and they do). Across the Universe is about many awesome things, but there’s also an underlying message about the importance of diversity and of tolerating differences. It’s significant that Amy is white, and Elder is not. Elder himself tells us:

She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, but also the strangest. Her skin is pale, almost translucent white, and I don’t think it’s just from the ice. I lay my hand on top of her glass box, above her heart. My skin is a dark shadow over the luminescence of hers.

This girl is definitely not monoethnic. She’s not like anyone else on Godspeed. Her skin, her hair, her age–my age!–her very shape . . . short, but slender with an enticing curve to her breasts and hips.

How can this girl fit into the monoethnic no-differences-at-all world Eldest says provides perfect peace? (57)

This disappoints me. No, that’s not quite right. It makes me really angry. Revis was doing something important and brave here–including an interracial couple in her book, talking frankly about their differences, talking frankly about the importance of their differences. But you wouldn’t know it from the new cover, even if you squint. And, man, after the hub-bub over Liar and Magic Under Glass and Silver Phoenix, I can’t help but wonder what Razorbill was thinking: Was it that the boy on the previous cover wasn’t seen as handsome enough, as if a boy of color can’t be handsome? Didn’t anyone think it might be problematic to alter the identifying racial characteristics of the existing cover model, or to dangle an accurate cover in front of reviewers but not the teens who will ultimately buy it? Did anyone really think that a parent wouldn’t buy this book for their kid because the silhouette of a person of color is floating suggestively above the female lead? Why are we still catering to these really messed up, racist perspectives? Why did Razorbill throw Elder–the real Elder–out the airlock?!

One thing I feel certain of: this wasn’t a change made thoughtlessly. Razorbill has put a lot of money and care into the presentation of the hardcover version of Across the Universe–they’ve even changed their logo to match the fictional spaceship’s insignia. Luckily, this offers an easy solution to people who want to buy a copy of Revis’ debut. Because, as Revis has shared, they’ve printed a second cover inside the dust-jacket, one with a map of the ship, and without the whitewashed silhouette of Elder. And so, when Across the Universe is released, I’m planning on turning my cover around, as a form of protest.

After all, I wouldn’t want to dissuade anyone from picking up a copy. I have a big ol’ writer crush on Revis; I love what she’s done with her book, and I think that the things she discusses within it are, in fact, awesome and brave. Even if her publisher’s choice of a final cover was not.

But still, these things matter; they’re worth speaking up about; they’re important. I think Justine Larbalestier said it best:

This is not about the accuracy of covers on books.

It’s not about blonde when the character is brunette, it’s not about the wrong length hair, or the wrong colour dress, it’s not even about thin for fat. Yes, that is another damaging representation, but that is another conversation, which only serves to derail this conversation.

The one about race and representation.

Sticking a white girl on the cover of a book about a brown girl is not merely inaccurate, it is part of a long history of marginalisaton and misrepresentation. Publishers don’t randomly pick white models. It happens within a context of racism.

ETA 1/21/11: Thank you, everyone, for your responses to this post.

One response that I’ve been surprised to see over and over again is that, in the original picture, Elder doesn’t “look black.” People are arguing, instead, that he looks 1. Like a fat guy. 2. Like a fat, white guy. 3. Like an unattractive person. The publisher was just trying to make him look pretty, you see?!

I kind of don’t want to touch the racism and value judgments about beauty in those statements with a ten-foot pole. But I will say this: a few weeks after posting this, I spotted someone’s ebook cover in their signature on AbsoluteWrite. It looked very, very familiar. I ran it through a TinEye search and was able to find the source for the original image–it’s a stock photo from Getty Images. The full-sized photo has since been removed from Getty, but it still comes up on search. In it, you can more clearly see the fact that Elder is a person of color. He even has an afro.