Showing posts with label middle-grade. Show all posts
Showing posts with label middle-grade. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Blog Tour: The Flame in the Mist (and a guest post from Kit!)

 
Watercolor Moods welcomes another wonderful author, Kit Grindstaff, today for The Flame in the Mist Blog Tour (courtesy of The Mod Podge Bookshelf)! I've been wanting to ease out into middle grades recently, seeing as they did so much to shape me as a writer and reader when I was that age, and I'm so glad to start things off with Kit's guest post.

Talking about middle-grade Kaye, I can definitely say that feisty heroines were - and still are - something that I think should be available to every girl reader. Kit was a great sport and wrote a guest post that made me want to push everything to the side and bang my hand on the table Thor-style for The Flame in the Mist.

RIGHT NOW.

(Okay. You can feel free to just skip to the blog post now.)

As a reader of fantasy, I love a strong character—someone I can root for while getting exasperated by the flaws which keep tripping them up. Someone who might possess magical powers, yet is still human and fallible. Examples exist all over middle grade and YA lit, whether it’s Harry and his growing impatience as he edges into his edgy teens, Renee and her headstrong will in Alex Lidell’s recent debut The Cadet of Tildor, Lyra Belacqua from Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy, who has an amazing propensity for telling elaborate lies—the flaw that is her gift—or light-fingered Conn in Sarah Prineas’s The Magic Thief.


So if they’re so human and fallible, what makes a fictional hero or heroine? Are they born to greatness, or do circumstances thrust it upon them? That question echoes the age-old Nature vs Nurture debate of Real Live Humans. The word “nurture” can be a bit misleading, since to me it implies caring, and it’s often lack of it that influences someone’s development. So really, “circumstances” is a better word. An analogy I like is that a child is like an undeveloped photograph; the potential is already fully formed (nature) but how it forms, or even how much, depends on what happens (nurture). Neither one nor the other accounts for it all; the developed picture is always an interplay between the two.


In The Flame in the Mist, it’s clear from chapter 1 that soon-to-be 13-year-old Jemma despises the Mist surrounding Agromond Castle. She fantasizes a world beyond it, where sunshine reigns—a world which has been described to her by her erstwhile nursemaid and confidante, Marsh. Jemma is a dreamer. Her evil captor Nocturna even refers to her as having been “dreamy-headed” all her life, leading Nocturna to doubt that Jemma has the evil in her bones that would make her choose to come over to the dark side—in other words, her nature decrees otherwise. In the eyes of Jemma’s arch-nemesis, Shade, this dreaminess also makes Jemma weak, and worthy of scorn.


“Dreamy-headed” is hardly the stuff of a heroine, though…unless, like in Jemma’s case, it’s paralleled by her having prophetic nightmares. She’s more than just a starry-eyed girl staring out of windows and longing for something different: her blood is the blood of Visionaries, and provides her with an innate sense that Something is Wrong at Agromond Castle. She knows she is essentially different from the family she believes to be hers…and for good reason. She is. Nature rules—so strongly, in fact, that she’s resisted all attempts by the Agromonds to win her over to the Dark Side.


But at the beginning, her nature is not very developed. Without a catalyst, she might stay at the castle and never be heard of again. What better as an agent of growth and change than a little life-or-death challenge thrown at a hero or heroine? When Jemma discovers the very real and great danger she’s in, she has to pull courage from her core like a rabbit from a hat—and fast.


“Throw adversity in your protagonist’s path” is something that any aspiring writer hears along the way. And just like in real life, adversity is what forces growth in fiction. Keep up tension by hurling one monster after another (literal or metaphorical) at your main character, and they can’t help but change. Bottom line, when it is life or death, if they don’t meet the challenge, they’re a gonner. Jemma faces jaws of…well, I won’t say what; but she keeps having to call upon something she’s already learned and assimilate it by using it, and comes out the other side that much stronger.


The Inner Hero’s growth can happen in subtler ways too. For example, when Jemma does her first real healing, it requires a different kind of courage and conviction from her. Her responses to outside forces, called up from the depths of her, in turn strengthen who she is as bit by bit she steps into the shoes of the Heroine. They were always there, waiting for her, but she has to take the steps, and then fill those shoes.


Not that those changes come easily, or without resistance, or without a price. There’s always that moment where a character can’t or won’t take on the mantle of their mission. Adding to that, there’s those delicious human flaws which can—and should—trip up the worthiest hero or heroine over and over again. Those flaws are a character’s default, and often is a part of their gift, as with Lyra Belacqua, whose lying gets her out of tough situation, or Conn, whose thievery starts him on his path of Destiny. Jemma is headstrong and stubborn, which are gifts that often help her survive. But part of being human means learning to discriminate: when does such a characteristic serve our heroine well, and when not? Often Jemma’s stubbornness means she doesn’t heed advice, which lands her in hot water.
People have asked how much Jemma is like me. In some ways, her experiences are metaphorical versions of my own; inner demons translated into outer ones on the page. But she’s feistier and braver than I ever was. At 13, there were many geese I wouldn’t have said “boo” to, and Jemma says “boo” to far worse than geese. And she has powers I’ll never possess. Although who knows, if I’d been trapped in a damp castle in mortal danger, maybe I could have pulled a few magical rabbits out of my hat, too. Somehow, though, I don’t think it’s in my nature. 


Kit Grindstaff was born near London, and grew up in the rolling countryside of England. After a brush with pop stardom (under her maiden name, Hain) she moved to New York and embarked on her career as a pop song writer. Kit now lives with her husband in the rolling countryside of Pennsylvania. She is a member of the SCBWI. The Flame In The Mist is her first novel. 



Thanks so much, Kit! You rock! And thanks to everyone following the blog tour! Now, I know that a lot of you are probably going, "Awesome post, but isn't there some sort of giveaway?"

Ask and you shall receive.

Just fill out the handy-dandy Rafflecopter form down there to win this awesome swag! 


a Rafflecopter giveaway
 Thanks once again to Gabrielle Carolina for pulling together such an awesome blog tour! Tomorrow: An interview with Kit with the marvelous Hafsah of IceyBooks! And remember that Gabrielle will be having a Twitter chat on the 19th!


 If I were you, I wouldn't want the Agromonds around. Just saying.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Make Way for the Middle-Grades! (1)

Since Thursday is my school librarian hat-wearing day (and no, I don't mean that literally), I thought it'd be nice if I started a meme based around the unsung hero of genres. As I said before, I am a sucker for a good middle-grade - after all, isn't it in the children's section that you'll find Narnia? And Hogwarts? And the eye candy sort of titles, the titles that you know would've made you plop right down in the middle of the aisle and start making pages as a kid.

Because that's what we all are at heart when we read YA and MG books. We're children*, still tumbling face-first into another grand adventure.

*Figuratively. Kaye will not be held responsible for ripped jumpers (or being caught in a jumper that you've outgrown centuries ago), owwies or boo-boos of any sort, and paper cuts. You are as old as you believe, but let's keep that belief to a sane level, yeah?


Cold Cereal 
Adam Rex
Balzer + Bray, 2012

Cold Cereal Facts 

Serving size   1 chapter     Number of servings   40

Primary human characters - 3 

Scottish Play Doe, aka Scott  - possible changeling 
Erno Utz - genius 
Emily Utz - supergenius 

Magical creatures - at least 3 

Mick Leprechaun (or Clurichaun)
Harvey Pooka (rabbit-man)
Biggs indeterminate origin (hairy, large) 

Evil organizations 1 

Goodco Cereal Company - Purveyor of breakfast foods aspiring to world domination 

Adventure 75%
Diabolical Schemes 40%
Danger 57%
Legend 20%
Magic 68%
Humor 93%
Puzzles 35%
Mystery 49%

Not a significant source of vampires.

May contain nuts.

Daily values based on individual interest. Reader's estimation of value may be higher or lower, depending on your tolerance for this sort of thing.


My ten-year-old brother actually recommended this title to me. After I recovered from the shock - and teensy bit of bruised pride (hey, who's the book blogger here?) - I decided to give it a fair try.

This fair try might have or have not been biased by blurbs from certain authors of Immense Size and Great Admiration - Jonathan Stroud, Eoin Colfer and Bruce Coville, oh my!

I'm like 50% done with it (perhaps a bit premature to start the promo parade, but, hey, you don't have to eat the whole sandwich to know how it tastes) and believe me, I know I'm going to fill the cavities afterward. Adam Rex plays up all the mystery that surrounds the inner workings of a cereal company (along with caricaturing some familiar characters...hey, Lucky, is that you?) - myths you've probably already had a taste of mixed with some shady corporate intrigue, and coming together with just the right pinch of humor.

Hey. It's a book based around cereal. I can use food allusions if I want to.

If that isn't enough to get you to give this a closer look:

[Scott] steered toward the local park, down the storm drain shortcut he'd discovered yesterday, dodging broken glass and a man with a rabbit head, up the embankment...and was that a man with a rabbit head? Scott braked hard...The rabbit-man stopped, too, and looked back. His tweed pants and white dress shirt were creased and dirty. His necktie was askew. His rabbit head was a rabbit head.

"Hey! Kid! Thtop! Thtay there!" In an instant, he had a five-foot-tall rabbit-man all up in his face.

"You've got to help me! They're coming! I don't want to go back! I don't want to go back!"

When [Scott] finally inhaled, he smelled sweater and cookies.

"You're not real," he said softly, closing his eyes. "You're imaginary."

And sure enough, when Scott opened his eyes, the rabbit-man was gone.
Well, that's not the end of it (I had to pinch myself really hard to keep from adding more, and more, and more because gah, that isn't even the half of it). Really, I am so bad at giving teasers.

So I've given you a taste. You think you want more?

Take it home and have it for breakfast. "There's a little bit of magic in every box."

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

"Waiting On" Wednesday: The Cavendish Home for Boys and Girls

The Cavendish Home for Boys and Girls
Claire LeGrand
August 28, 2012

Victoria hates nonsense. There is no need for it when your life is perfect. The only smudge on her pristine life is her best friend Lawrence. He is a disaster--lazy and dreamy, shirt always untucked, obsessed with his silly piano. Victoria often wonders why she ever bothered being his friend. (Lawrence does, too.)

But then Lawrence goes missing. And he's not the only one. Victoria soon discovers that Mrs. Cavendish's children's home is not what it appears to be. Kids go in but come out . . . different, or they don't come out at all.

If anyone can sort this out, it's Victoria, even if it means getting a little messy.

Wow. It finally has a cover.

And it's a perfect cover.

I'll get you, my pretty. Someday soon.

I might claim to be a solely YA book blogger, but it's time for a little confession: my literary pleasure, the titles that give me as much happiness and warmth as a cup of well-brewed, sweetened tea - or maybe a cupcake without that all that wretched frosting - are middle-grade titles. Things like Percy Jackson and The Emerald Atlas and Ordinary Magic (which I really need to review, don't I)?

And now, this one.

As soon as I get a chance to read it, and believe me, I WILL, because isn't that summary too tantalizing for words? For some reason, I'm thinking of the last scene in Willy Wonka (the book, of course), where all the naughty children are returned to their guardians - "just as obnoxious and nasty as always," the candy-making genius claims, but the illustration shows a little differently.

Not that I think that Lawrence will be turned into a candy. That's just too...ew.