Kirstin Cronn-Mills

When I was working on BEAUTIFUL MUSIC FOR UGLY CHILDREN, I did a *lot* of studying about gender and how it’s expressed in our culture, especially as it relates to trans individuals. What a wild subject! You’ve got to add up brain structure, chromosomes, hormones, cultural messages, and messages from family, and after you have a total, you throw it in the air and see what happens. Complicated.

But how does this relate to TRANSFORMERS movies? Many ways. This summer our Transformers movie option is TRANSFORMERS 3: DARK OF THE MOON. As you know, women are *not* the target audience for this film. Here’s my 13-year-old son and his buddies talking about it:

Kid 1: going to see DARK OF THE MOON?

Kid 2: probably not

Kid 3: It doesn’t have Megan Fox.

Kid 2: yeah, who wants to see it if it doesn’t have Megan Fox?

Kid 1: Yeah. She’s way hot.

And, here’s me talking about the first TRANSFORMERS movie (while watching on TV):

K: Isn’t Bumblebee a sweet transformer? Look at his face–he’s just sweet. Kind. It’s the eyes.

(I swear to you I said this. So weird. “Sweet”?)

Two unscripted ideas about Transformers. Or was the scripts written for us by the list of stuff up above? You decide. But you would NEVER want someone like me promoting a film about robots that are also vehicles who can destroy or save the planet, not when I call them “sweet” and “kind”.

(Gender is weird but fun. And look at Bumblebee’s eyes. Doesn’t he have kind eyes?)

(I still want a muscle car. But that’s another post.)

There was a huge kerfuffle this summer in the YA community, prompted by this article about why YA is too dark (to paraphrase). People got way upset, and lots of really smart people replied, including my literary crush Sherman Alexie (please have babies with me, Sherman!). I stayed quiet because I had nothing extra to add.

BUT–this weekend I thought of something to say. I’m sure it’s already been said, but it came home to me again.

My time has been free enough this summer (oh, blessed free time) to read. And I’ve been LEARNING! Whoa, from a *book*? A fictional, made-up-ical book? YES. Not even nonfiction–from a story! Whoa. Deep. That’s what I think folks like accuser-of-darkness Meghan Cox Gurdon forget–stories (books as a whole) are a safe way to learn things. In fact, friends and neighbors, books were a primary way to learn things before we had radio, TVs, film, and the World Wide Wonderfulness! Revolutionary!

Let’s emphasize “safe” for a moment. This weekend I was inside Amy Reed‘s fantastic new book CLEAN, and I learned a ton about rehab. I knew a little bit, from traveling that journey with a loved one, but now I know even more. If another loved one needs rehab, I’m better prepared. And I didn’t have to go to rehab to experience it (Amy Winehouse, poor soul, could have learned from CLEAN).

Another example, one Gurdon used: self-injury. Teens might self-injure if they read about it! My take: if I read about it, I can safely learn about self-injury without having to self-injure. If I self-injure *because* of a book, I was at risk for it anyway. The book didn’t push me over the edge. Yes, I believe this.

What else have I learned lately? In LET THE GREAT WORLD SPIN, bestest grown-up book ever, I am learning how to be a black prostitute in 1970s New York. From CHASING ALLIECAT, I learned how to bike up hills more easily–probably one of the most practical things I’ve learned lately, since I’m learning to bike for distance. And I learned what it’s like to race DOWNhill. Scary business!

In the 19th century, families sat around oil lamps and learned about how to harpoon big white whales, or Uncle Walt’s astoundingly chatty catalog of life’s details. Why is it any different with teenagers in the 21st century? Books are safe. You can put them down when they’re too intense. I’d rather have my kid learn about kidnapping from a book than have him learn it from real life. Yes, you can learn to build a bomb from a book. But you were intending to do it anyway, or you wouldn’t have looked for a book about it.

Rant over. But that was a fun one.

Here are some things that PISS ME OFF:

1) abuse of power
2) abuse of power
3) abuse of power

Also: 4) discrimination, which is abuse of power, and 5) violence, which is also abuse of power

You get where I’m going with this.

I bring this up because it’s Pride month (the last day of), and because I write books with LGBTQ themes (novels #1, 2, and 4). Also because I have heaps of friends and family in the community, so it’s a community I support and love and have fun with.

Also, even more importantly: there is no good reason NOT to be an ally.

Seriously, friends–show me one good reason. One founded, considered, critically thought out reason not to be an ally to this community–or any other community that can benefit from your support and love. We are in this together, people. Be supportive. If you believe in humans, if you like being a human, if you like other humans to be happy, be an ally–to anyone, to everyone.

AND–put your allied thoughts into action, and get out there and do allied things. Go visit the Stonewall Inn (see above) and feel the importance of the history there. Or do something local–go volunteer at a shelter where LBGTIQ youth hang out–did you know the suicide rate in teenagers is HIGHEST among this population? Or something even smaller–go smile at your mail carrier. S/he might not be LBGTIQ, but it’s a way to start a chain of good things.

Rant over. Happy Pride! And yay for New York and Rhode Island!

Friends, meet Geoff Herbach. I made his acquaintance in April, and I was thrilled–I had no idea we had another YA writer in the community (he teaches at the local four-year). He is a cool dude, so I liked him immediately. Then I had the honor of serving on a panel with him at a local literary conference, and by then I was sure he wore Outlaw Boots, so I’m thrilled to have him visit today.

This is Geoff.

This is his book–a boy book! Yaaaaay!

What’s STUPID FAST about? From Geoff’s website: “It’s about a boy. It’s about sports. It’s about being a serious dork. It’s about a paper route. It’s about bullying and the opposite. It’s about a girl. It’s about hair growth. It’s about a little brother. It’s about piano. It’s about a depressed mother. It’s about learning to be who you are. It’s about not hiding.”

This book is right up my alley–and my kid’s alley, too. Geoff’s adult book, THE MIRACLE LETTERS OF T. RIMBERG, is also on my to-be-read pile, but STUPID FAST is first. More info about the book is here. And there’s a sequel coming next year! Awesome. Both me and my kid will be grateful.

Without further ado, here’s why Geoff wears Outlaw Boots:

Who’s your most outlaw character (in any book)–why?
13-year-old Andrew in Stupid Fast. He burns all of his clothes, shaves his head, and dresses like a pirate!

Are you an outlaw too? How do you know?
I shoplift! Just kidding. I write what I think is important, even if it’s rough.

What kind of shoes does your outlaw wear (you or your character–maybe outlaw boots?)?
I had some badass combat boots that I wore through college. The fell apart. Now I wear speedy track shoes.

Pirate, ninja, nerd, other outlaw title for you/your character:
I would like to be called Geoff the Perplexing and I’d like you all to see me in the coffee shop and to know I’m staring at you.

Best thing about being an outlaw:
Freedom to be as I am, which makes being a freak feel fine.

Favorite outlaw/badass food:
Old School Tacos: Hard shell, seasoning packet, wild-ass cheese all over the place!

Favorite outlaw/badass role model/why:
Kurt Vonnegut. That guy said eff-you to everyone who deserved it, but remained the kindest soul on the planet. Perfect.

My copy arrived about fifteen seconds ago–the post dude just rang the doorbell. Something to read this weekend! Check out STUPID FAST today, and buy one for a young guy who reads. He’ll thank you.

So, friends–here’s the cover of the Debs 09 anthology, out as an e-book later in the year. Look at the author list! Some seriously amazing writers. I feel very blessed to be included.

I also want a dress like this, and a field to goof around in, though I’d probably keep the dress and the field separate. Imagine the sticks and crap that would get caught in the skirt. :

What’s amusing me is this: I keep wondering what Morgan would be wearing if she was sitting on that fence: flip-flops, cut-offs, a t-shirt, and a scowl, or at least a smirk. Not very glamorous. I hope the anthology editors (the wonderful Jessica Verday and Rhonda Stapleton) don’t mind her snarky presence.

It’s been challenging to write an epilogue to SKY–way more challenging than I expected. I’m getting happier with the results as I go along. Short stories are *hard*. Yowza. Novels have a lot more room to wander around in.

Look for the book in the fall!

Please know this is not a slam. It is an observation.

I am currently listening to a NYT-bestselling YA (movie rights optioned, I just read), and I’m out of my depth. Good writing, some interesting action, but so far, this book is about virginity, roses, and matching tank tops. One girl drives a Range Rover. It may have gotten to be a NYT-bestselling YA because of the reasons above, which is cool, and it does have a cool premise. But it just doesn’t resonate for me.

The narrator is rambling on about popularity right now–we know it when we see it, right, like a lazy eye or porn? (said with upward inflection, of course) She and her besties can get away with stuff, she says, like wearing fuzzy yellow slippers to school.

And I thought: that’s the difference between my characters and these characters (aside from the Range Rover and the matching tank tops). My character would wear fuzzy yellow slippers because they mattered to her. She’d do it because they were her grandmother’s, and she misses her, or because they were comfy, or because she’s depressed as hell and they help her feel better. She’d do it because she would. She’d be COMMITTED to those goddamn slippers, and they wouldn’t be “ha ha, look at me aren’t I cute?” wear. They’d be part of her.

I’ll keep listening, and maybe I’ll identify more as time goes along, but I know the book wasn’t written for me. I believe in quirk, weirdness, the indie spirit, and funk music. Because of those things, I may never be a NYT-bestselling author. Fair enough. I don’t write about popular girls because I wasn’t one, and I can’t identify. I am the fuzzy yellow slipper-wearer, and I’m OK with that.

For me, place is like a vine growing up through my life–the foliage is thick and it’s always a tangle, but it’s lush and constant, with the taproot anchored deep inside me. Other places can branch off the vine, but there’s only one root. I think about place a ton, especially when I travel, even if it’s only 100 miles from my house.

I live in Minnesota, and I love this place: awesome state to raise a kid, lovely scenery, great standard of living, etc. However, for the last six days I’ve been at the taproot–the edge of western Nebraska. It was time for my dad’s auction, and that was hard but all right, but I didn’t feel sad about him, at least not much. It was the place that made me hurt. What do you mean there’s no reason to come back? Eeek. Tears. After all the stuff got done in my home town, I headed out to the west-West, the covered-wagon West. There was business to do, but it was mostly to return to the taproot of the taproot.

I discovered, way out there, that my great-great and great grandparents have the words “pioneers” engraved on their tombstones. Like covered wagon pioneers (btw, that’s the Scotts Bluff National Monument in that photo, very cool, go visit). I’ve known this all my life, but it just hit me on Tuesday: people in my bloodline left their homes somewhere else to go live on a flat plain with these big, weird rocks sticking up. They yanked up their ivy and replanted it in Banner County, Nebraska. What the hell for? A new life. But what kind of life was it?

As I was sitting in the cemetery where my pioneer ancestors are buried, listening to the prairie dogs chirp at me to get the hell off their land, I pondered the space and silence. I wondered how many pioneers went crazy from all the quiet. I wondered how many of them re-read the two books they’d brought–or the 200, maybe, a covered wagon full of books. And contact with other people–how did anybody get mail (by Pony Express, I’d guess)? How many days did it take to get to a town, or to a neighbor’s house? Those were strong people–a zillion times stronger than I am. No wonder the word “pioneer” means “groundbreaker” and “first of their kind”. Even though I’m not that sturdy, I like knowing I’m descended from that stock. It gives me hope to be that brave.

Maybe it was the energy of the place that kept them there. The vibe in western Nebraska, even on the edge of it, where I’m from, is different. It’s spacious and calm, almost like the atoms of everything are less connected. The prairie, where I live now, is dense and compact, and the atoms scurry around at high speeds. Out West, things are slower. More independent. More open. Maybe my relatives came for the free land and stayed for the fact that nobody bothers you out there. Don’t know.

Love you, Minnesota, but I’m moving home someday.

An actual phone conversation, me in Minnesota, other voice 485 mile away in NE:

Kirstin: Hi, my name is Kirstin, and I’d like an estimate on a whole-house cleaning plus carpet cleaning [for my dad’s place, after his auction].

woman at Servicemaster, not in my hometown: Could we start with your name?

Kirstin: K-I-R . . .

woman: I know you.

Kirstin: You do?

woman: I used to work with your mother, and I used to babysit you. You sound just like your mom. I heard about your dad, and I’m so sorry.

The world is a small place–and this is the millionth time it’s been brought to attention. This time around, it was me she knew. When it happened a couple weeks ago–when I called a *freaking 800 number* to change the gas payment–the woman who answered was a student of my dad’s. Nebraska doesn’t have a lot of degrees of separation, but still. What are the freaking odds with an 800 number?

So–after this kind woman helped me out, I talked to my husband, like really talked. We don’t get to talk, because our lives are nuts. Then I saw an orchard oriole and his mate in my tree–not your everyday bird, and really beautiful besides. Then I planted flowers and filled bird feeders and ran on my treadmill (hope my boss doesn’t see this post–I think today is a duty day). Other joyous things? I don’t have to grade papers for three months! I get to be a writer now, and I have tons of great projects to work on. I adore my agent, my editor’s thinking about my next book, and my fingers can type. My husband and child are healthy, I have amazing friends and family, and the world is still here (though it may end on May 21, beware).

It’s so easy to get lost in the craziness. I do it too much. For today, I’ll put down the problems and pick up the joy.

Malinda Lo is really smart, and she’s an elegant writer besides. She and Cindy Pon, another brilliant YA writer, will launch the Diversity in YA Fiction tour tomorrow in San Francisco. What are they doing, exactly? Talking about how diversity works (or doesn’t) in YA, talking about cultures, talking about whatever you’d like to talk about, most likely. Tomorrow’s focus is Asian Americans in YA. Each tour stop highlights different cultural groups and really great books, which is the whole point, yes? YA books = flat-out awesome, and no, I’m not biased.

I wish they were coming closer to me than 8 hours away. If you’re near SF, Austin TX, Chicago, Cambridge MA, NYC (twice), or San Diego, you should see them. Diversity in YA novels is something we should all care about, no matter our color or culture. There are YAers out there who care a lot, because they want to see their faces in the books they write. Can you blame them?

That makes her sound like a horror movie monster . . . and her parents might agree.

But yes, Morgan and the cast of THE SKY ALWAYS HEARS ME are back, in an e-anthology to be published this fall by Jessica Verday and Rhonda Stapleton. All of you who’ve wondered about a sequel? Here you go, though it’s only 20 pages. Theme of the anthology? Firsts.

More info here–can you believe those other authors? Wow. It’s an honor.

I’m *so* excited to write this story. More than anything, I can’t wait to figure out if she’s with Rob–but she might be with Tessa. There will also be buffalo and The Really Big Empty. And more fortunes.

Tentative release date: October 4. Can’t wait!

(And yes, I’m a month late in announcing this news. Story of my life right now.)