The poet Yeats, looking (justifiably) suspicious at this summons to the blog of a YA novelist.

On the very first page of the prologue, I describe “a leathery stick of a man rolled in shreds of rotting cloth”. It’s a strong image, but yesterday it finally hit me: I pinched it from W. B. Yeats! In “Sailing to Byzantium” (1928), Yeats writes, “An aged man is but a paltry thing,/ A tattered coat upon a stick”. Ahem. Yeats said it better than I. But my point is, I know that poem well. I’ve even taught it to undergraduates. So how could I slide it into my own manuscript without instantly recognizing it?

Part of it is the intensity of the writing process. I wrote the prologue quite late in the timeline, when I was feverish with words and ideas and images and time pressure. (This was in June 2010.) Then I edited it for clarity, continuity, consistency – but clearly not a readerly eye.

My two editors (one at Candlewick Press, one at Walker Books) read it (July 2010) but probably assumed I knew what I’d done. It then passed the scrutiny of a copy editor, as well (August 2010). There were a few more editorial queries about the ms in November 2010, but I haven’t looked at it since. It’s only in this last pass that I’ve had the leisure to read the book as a relative stranger – critically, even somewhat dispassionately. As someone who literally hasn’t looked at the book for 4 months.

And that’s the infuriating, miraculous, transformative nature of page proofs. I read them differently for a few reasons: because of the time lapse. Because the page layout is set up as it will be in the final book, so things look official. Because in a different font, the words seem less like mine. There are moments of recognition, of course – occasional pride in a bit of dialogue, but more often shame at a clunky phrase or word repetition. I’m so glad to have this last chance to fix things, every single time. I also try not to dwell on the errors that will, inevitably, escape me.

As for my Yeatsian image, I haven’t decided what to do about it yet. I’m all for self-conscious homage. In past books, I’ve included jokes about Mary Wollstonecraft and Sherlock Holmes, and quoted Dorothy L. Sayers, among other things.

But this one? Not sure. I’m very glad I caught it, but still feel startled that it took me so long to do so. So I’ll sit on it for now, work through the remaining pages, and see what I think tomorrow or the next day. Maybe a few days of self-consciousness will transform it from theft to homage. Or maybe not.

As it turns out, a fair amount.

And just a quick reminder for Toronto-area readers: I’ll be launching The Body at the Tower at Type Books (883 Queen St West) next week (Thursday, November 25) from 7 to 8.30 pm. Hope to see you there!

And over at Teenreads, I’m dispensing bad advice. Ever wondered How Not to Be a Writer? I’ve got tips for you!

Also, I’m featured at Books on the House this week. Enter there to win copies of A Spy in the House plus an Agency t-shirt.

When Misa Ramirez of Books on the House interviewed me, she asked, “Are your books serious, or does your wit come through?” I’m not really happy with the answer I gave then, so I thought I’d try again here. Ahem.

Long answer:

The Mary Quinn novels are dramatic novels that include comic moments. I write them in the tradition of two serious genres (historical fiction, mystery novels) but also joke about the expectations and conventions of those categories.

Having said that, one of the delightful things about novels is that nobody reads one the same way. What’s funny, dramatic, bland, or ridiculous to me will be quite different to you, dear reader. So while I wrote some scenes with the intention of providing comedy, some readers won’t find them funny. Some scenes, which I consider serious, will seem absurd to others. But it doesn’t really matter whether I think my books are funny. The question is, do you?

Short answer:

No.

Also, thoughts on author branding

Did you read Maureen Johnson’s Manifesto? It was much disseminated on Twitter this week but if you don’t want to click over, here it is in brief: Maureen Johnson spoke at a conference where her co-panellist endlessly declared, “I am a brand. I am a brand. I am a brand.” MJ begs to differ: she is just herself and uses social networks to have conversations and create connections with people. She also likes loves snacks.

MJ’s position is entirely reasonable and sane. But what really stayed with me was the unnamed co-panellist’s proud and frequent declaration: “I am a brand.” It’s one of the saddest things I’ve read lately. Not: I am a writer. I am a thinker. I am creative person. Not even, I am a lover, a believer, a human being with valuable and passionate relationships. No, the co-panellist (as depicted by Maureen Johnson) has reduced herself to a few key search terms and the smoothest veneer possible.

I take it back: it’s not one of the saddest things I’ve read lately. It’s one of the most grotesque things I’ve ever read.

I’m off to fetch MJ a snack.

I feel oddly unencumbered at the moment because I’ve just delivered the manuscript for the third MQ novel, The Traitor and the Tunnel, along with the proofread galleys for the UK ed of book 2, The Body at the Tower. It’s a lovely, surreal sort of freedom and much of it involves wondering, “What shall I write next?”

This might be my favourite part of the writing life: cooking up the next project. Once I’ve dealt with the mundane things – cut hair, clear desk, re-design filing system – I get to research and ponder and play and puzzle. Does that sound familiar to all of you? Or is there some other aspect you find more appealing?

Happy June, everyone!

YA & genre:
Perchance to Dream, by Lisa Mantchev
The Hunchback Assignments, by Arthur Slade
In the Serpent’s Coils, by Tiffany Trent
Hearts at Stake, by Alyxandra Harvey
The Weed that Strings the Hangman’s Bag, by Alan Bradley

Sairius Littricha:
Empire of the Sun, by J G Ballard
Changing My Mind, by Zadie Smith (yes, a foray into non-fiction)
Romola, by George Eliot

So, bookish friends – what am I missing? What else would you recommend?

This week, in reviews:

Lynn Rutan of Bookends (Booklist’s children’s & YA blog) calls Spy “terrific… intriguing… enticing” and demands, “More more!”

Teens Read Too gives Spy a Gold Star Award for excellence! Reviewer Jennifer Rummel says it’s “pure magical entertainment. A great feisty heroine, lots of danger, plenty of mysteries to untangle, and a little romance creates a wonderfully perfect first edition to a new series.”

At Pipedreaming, Vikki VanSickle says, “A Spy in the House is the love child of Libba Bray’s Gemma Doyle trilogy and Ally Carter’s Gallagher series and then some”!

Thank you so much, you enthusiastic librarians and booksellers. I’m honoured.

My book launch party is on Tuesday, and you are invited.

I wrote a quiz for writers that Stephanie Burgis calls “freakily accurate”. Eating and writing – they are connected! The quiz is up at Teenreads.com So… do you eat dessert first?

And on the 6th day of my blog tour, I’m Leslie’s guest at That Chick that Reads. She interviews me here, and reviews Spy here. Thank you for having me to visit, Leslie, and for encouraging me to talk about my freaky elbows (among other things). And thanks for the 5-paw rating!

Hah.

In other news, I have BOOKPLATES! These are basically large & fancy stickers with a blank space for personalization. If you’d like me to sign or inscribe your copy of The Agency but don’t think you’ll see me in person for a while, feel free to request one. You need to tell me exactly what you want the bookplate to say: just my signature? “For Pinkie, a goddess amongst mortals”? “To the winning eBay bidder”? As you can see from the foregoing examples, I’m rubbish at clever dedications, so it’s up to you. The design looks like this:

I’m a sucker for old botanical drawings. And weeds. So this was pretty much a foregone conclusion. I hope you like it, too!