Skeletons in the Attic

I confess. I'm a sentimental packrat. I have the most difficult time getting rid of things that have a good memory attached to them. This is why I don't supply all that much to the local used bookstore. To part with a book I loved reading pains me. I have school papers and birthday cards and little mementos packed into every closet. This drives my husband crazy. He has the opposite problem, he throws away things then asks questions later, often getting rid of things that are truly important.

However, this weekend I discovered that my husband should just blame my mother. I called her on Saturday, and she was spending her morning organizing her attic--a brave task in Louisiana summer heat, let me tell you. She started listing all the things she had for me and asking me if I wanted her to keep them or not. (Of course, being her daughter, I wanted her to hold on to most it.) But as she made her list, it got me to thinking. The things in her attic said a lot about me.

We all think that as we get older, we grow and mature and change. We move past our crazy teen years and become responsible adults. However, beyond the obvious, do we really change that much? Are the dreams of our childhood and teen years so different from the core of who we are now?

Case in point, here are some of the items my mother found:

Cabbage Patch dolls, Pound Puppies, and a Strawberry Shortcake doll collection--okay, this doesn't prove much except that I was a child of the 80s.

A box of New Kids on the Block memorabilia--Point and laugh if you will, I still love them anyway. Guess that hasn't changed.

High school term papers I did well on--yes I'm a nerd, still

A whole box of vampire books--Proving that, yes, I loved vampires WAY before Twilight.

Boxes and boxes of other books--definitely hasn't changed

The first novel I ever wrote--I was so excited about this. I wrote it at 15 and the only remnant I had was a floppy disc that is password locked. I, of course, can't remember the password. I've tried including all the names of my high school crushes, movie stars I loved, the pets names, everything. Apparently, I wanted to be so secretive about it I came up with a really excellent password. So my mom finding a hard copy was like finding treasure. I can't wait to take a look at it and get insight into my teen brain. I'm sure it will be laugh out loud horrible writing, but I'm so curious.

So looking at all this makes me realize that maybe as teens we know more about ourselves than we think. After college and degrees and trying out different careers, I've landed right back where I started--writing and reading (and going to New Kids concerts). I don't regret going the career direction I did. I love that field too and had great experiences, but part of me thinks I should have trusted myself more when I went to college and pursued the English route. Sometimes I can be too practical.

So how about you? Do you think the core of who you are has changed dramatically since you were younger? If your mother were a packrat like mine, what would you find in her attic?

Channeling Your Inner Teenager

So when writing YA, one of the most important aspects of developing your story is creating an authentic teen voice. Every article you read about writing in this genre puts emphasis on that. If you sound like an adult, the teen readers will cry foul--you poser, you faker, you parent in disguise!

So how does one develop an authentic teen voice? For some of us, that voice comes easy, maybe we aren't that far from those years or we never grew up in the first place. For others, the teen voice is buried deep under the years of experience, grammar lessons, vocabulary expansion, and life lessons. But the truth of the matter is, we all have one under there. I confirmed this for myself last night.

Last night I went to the New Kids on the Block concert. To give you a little background, as a preteen I was totally obsessed (like most others my age) with the band. My room was plastered (walls and ceiling) with their pictures. I had the comforter set, complete with Joe and Jordan pillowcases. I wrote to Oprah begging to meet them. My wardrobe consisted solely of New kids t-shirts, a jean jacket, and oversized buttons with pics of them. My birthday parties were NKOTB themed. You get the picture.

So, last night when I attended the concert, I was excited--in my mature, adult kind of way. :) The concert was going well. I was enjoying myself. Clapping and singing like a normal 29-year-old person. Then suddenly, the venue staff started setting up a little platform in the aisle near my seats. My husband pointed it out to me and pushed me in that direction to get a spot for whatever was going to happen. I did, landing a spot right in front of the security guard. People started piling in. I figured something was going to happen, and I knew I would be cool about it. Then, the lights went out and who stepped on to the platform a mere two feet in front of me? The Jordan Knight. Right there, in the flesh, within touching distance. So much for being cool. I lost my freaking mind.

Gone was the wife, mom, quiet-natured person. I was suddenly possessed by the 12-year-old version of myself. I couldn't stop screaming and jumping. I almost got into my first girl fight when some chick rudely (using her fake boobs as a battering ram) tried to shove her way through those of us who had already established position. (She didn't get past me. I may have cussed her out and pushed back. I'm not sure. ;) ) I felt more frantic then I can ever remember feeling in my life. Pure, unadulterated, childlike joy filled me. I touched Jordan's shoulder, he smiled at me. My preteen dreams come true.

This proved to me that the preteen/teen is still inside me, she just needs to be channeled. And oh how fun it was to be back in her shoes, if even for a few moments. So, when I'm struggling with finding my YA voice, trying to find that right level of emotion or angst or internal drama, I'm going to recall this moment and let "teen me" answer the question.

So, what gets you into the right mindset to write the YA voice? Music? Memories? Observing your own teenage children? Leave a comment and let me know.