An incident with Instagram by Lu Hersey

Social media can be a helpful marketing tool, if you choose to use it that way. A means of drawing attention to new books coming out, reviews and events. It’s also a way to communicate with other writers, family and friends. But very occasionally it can backfire in a spectacular way, as I found out recently with Instagram...

Fab cake made for me by YAfictionados (cakes feature a lot on Instagram)

Unless you choose to have a private account, Instagram is a public platform – a bit like twitter, but with more pictures. Great for improving mediocre photos with its selective cropping and filter options, and for the most part, fun. It’s become an increasingly popular site for authors and book bloggers, and a social media site currently popular with nearly all teenagers.

YA event at Foyles, Bristol - writers always Instagram events...

Some writers and illustrators have a ton of followers and a zillion ‘likes’ for everything they post (look at Chris Riddell’s amazing Instagram feed and you’ll see what I mean)…although if you take a look at teen profiles like Zoella’s, the rest of us have a lot of catching up to do!

Like all social media, Instagram is another way of keeping up with what your writer friends are doing – and on a bad day, making you feel really inadequate looking at other people’s amazing book tours, fantastic book covers, new book deals, and countless foreign editions (even though you’re delighted for them!)

Social media can sometimes make you feel like this...

Anyway, as Instagram is mostly a public platform, like most children’s writers, some of my followers are kids and teenagers. The audience I write for, in fact. And therefore I’m fairly selective about the images I post.

So when my Instagram account got hacked by a spammer, my new profile pic of a much younger model with surgically enhanced breasts (and wearing very few clothes) was a bit of a worry.

Eeeeep!

It took me some time to actually find my account again. The spammer had blocked me from accessing my own photos, and it’s quite complicated getting Instagram ‘help’ to do anything remotely helpful. I had to send them a photo of myself holding a card with my email address on to prove I was a real person. It took them several days to grudgingly agree that yes, maybe I had been hacked, and let me have my account back with a slightly different name. Now I’m luwrites instead of LuWrites, because Instagram ‘help’ said someone already owned LuWrites. Duh. But I couldn’t be bothered to argue.

Having got my account back, I found my big breasted spammer had kindly started following 5000 random people on my behalf. Some of them had very dubious names like Cmidic and Luvmicok and had messaged to request nude pics...

After hastily blocking all of them (and changing my profile photo, obvs), I had to unfollow the other 5000, which took AGES. Instagram only allows you to unfollow about 100 people in one session before they freeze your account for a while – apparently to ‘protect our community’. Yeah, right. The same ‘community’ where a spammer can follow 5000 people in one go. Pffft.

Surprisingly, in the end, some good came out of it all. I ended up feeling almost sorry about unfollowing some of the 5000 people I’d never met. Quite a few of them had followed me back – though I’m surprised they didn’t wonder why I’d followed them in the first place, especially with THAT profile pic.

By the time I’d slowly waded through, I found it kind of comforting that apart from the porn spammers, the vast majority of the accounts I had to unfollow were people from across the globe, simply recording very similar things in their lives. High days and holidays, families, falling in love, cars – along with some truly spectacular cakes, and a very wide range of pets. (One guy actually appeared to own a pair of tigers and a grizzly bear!)

I ended up with a warm, fuzzy feeling of a global community and shared humanity, something hard to remember in these days of political tensions and rifts between countries.

I still follow a few of the people who followed me back. Mainly young teens I feel might be upset if I unfollowed them, and I wasn’t quite sure if they were following me before or not. After all, at its best, Instagram can be a great public space and a good way to link to others.

But if you’re a children’s writer with an Instagram account, or about to open one, I’d strongly advise making your password impregnable…it could save you a lot of time and effort.

Lu Hersey
Deep Water out now, published by Usborne

@LuWrites on twitter

luwrites on Instagram

Lu Writes on Wordpress

YA in the UK, some thoughts. By Keren David.

I have a new book out. Go me! And as I’ve got a new book out, I’ve been hanging around a lot in bookshops. You know what it’s like. First you find the section, in my case teen or Young Adult. Then you look for your name. You find your shelfmates, who are often your friends in real life. And then you count your books, rearrange them face out, stroke them and try and use mind-melding techniques to get any browsing shoppers to pick them up and buy them.  

Is the answer more self-promotion? 

That’s if there are any books, and if there are any shoppers.

I visited a big bookstore the other day. It’s one I go to every now and again, as it’s in a city I visit maybe once a year. I love it. It’s got a huge range of books, comfy chairs, hand-written recommendations and there are always lots of people browsing and buying.

In the last few years it developed a teen section. It was brilliantly positioned, right by the adult fiction, somewhere to showcase a wide range of books that might appeal to readers of various ages. 

But on this visit, that section had disappeared. I walked around the shop and could not find it. In the end I found a separate room marked ‘Children’s section’. I walked past Gruffalos and Peter Rabbits, past early readers and Lewis Carroll, past Roald Dahl and David Walliams…and more Walliams…. And there I found the teen/Young Adult section. Tucked away in a corner. 

There were no teenagers there. There were no twenty-somethings there. There was no one there except me. 

I checked for my books -  they had several (the new one wasn't out yet). I looked for the books written by friends and found many. I saw a lot of great books that  people would love to read.  I did a little rearranging. I did no invisible mind-melding, because there was no one to meld with.

I left for  adult fiction. As I looked around there I noticed that one YA book had escaped from exile. Multiple copies were piled onto a table in a  prominent spot. Its very own table.  There was a  hand-written recommendation, proclaiming it an important book. And yes, it is a good book.I was glad to see it promoted to readers of all ages.

 But where was the nudge in the direction of other, quite similar, books? Where should readers go who want to read more books like this? No nudge, no suggestions, no context. The marketing ploy for YA in this particular store seemed to be to make one  YA book look special and different by hiding the fact that there are a whole load of other books which also have important themes and capture a young person's viewpoint. 

At the Young Adult Literature Convention (YALC) last week, there was a fabulous atmosphere. There were many teen readers, often accompanied by parents. There were many 20-something readers and older adults too.  But it also seemed  - despite the enthusiasm, despite the energy, despite the general wonderfulness of the whole event - that the market for YA in the UK is pretty small. Niche was the word that sprang to my mind. 

 Blame it on our crazy exam system, blame it on kindles and Youtube, blame it on library cuts, whatever you want, Young Adult is still a small market in the UK. We have the talent. We have amazing publishers. But where are the readers?  

This week I had a conversation with a work colleague. He’s 26. He loves reading Young Adult books, he assured me. The coming of age themes resonate throughout your twenties, he said. Other colleagues of a similar age agree. But by YA they means the books that make it into the mainstream media, or are heavily promoted by publishers and booksellers. John Green. Rainbow Rowell. Veronica Roth. Sarah J Maas. They’re not looking further. They couldn’t name any British YA writers. 

This made me sad. And it also made me feel like a bit of a failure. A few years ago I , alongside fellow authors Keris Stainton (who did all the work) and Susie Day set up a website and started promoting UKYA. We wanted to raise the profile of British authors and British books. We succeeded, up to a point. #UKYA is a hashtag to be reckoned with. There are regular #UKYAchat sessions on Twitter. Lovely bloggers set up #UKYA events and shout about #UKYA books. And many more British YA authors are being published. 

But has the market for YA in the UK grown? Not that much, I suspect. 

 Authors that I know are asking themselves whether they should  age down, go for that popular ‘clean teen’ market? Or is the answer to age up a bit and leave the children’s section behind? Maybe we need to think less about the ‘young’ bit and more about the ‘adult’? After all, John Green’s  massive hit The Fault in Our Stars was published as an adult book in the UK. 

Is the answer more self-promotion? Does social media make a difference? Or are we expending time and energy on reminding the same people again and again that they might like to read our books? Is it possible that the YA market in the UK is going to be entirely dominated by people who have become famous by making videos on YouTube?  Should I be writing a book that Zoella might like?

I love YA. I love writing it and I love reading it. I love the YA books that I read when I was young – books by Honor Arundel, KM Peyton, Joan Lingard. I love the books that I read now. I believe that books read as a young adult can change your life. I also think that it’s important that YA books should come from all over the world, reflecting young people’s experience and opening their minds to other cultures as well. 

But how can we find a broader audience? Any ideas?

Cuckoo by Keren David was published by Atom on August 4th. 

YA in the UK, some thoughts. By Keren David.

I have a new book out. Go me! And as I’ve got a new book out, I’ve been hanging around a lot in bookshops. You know what it’s like. First you find the section, in my case teen or Young Adult. Then you look for your name. You find your shelfmates, who are often your friends in real life. And then you count your books, rearrange them face out, stroke them and try and use mind-melding techniques to get any browsing shoppers to pick it up and buy it.  

Is the answer more self-promotion? 

That’s if there are any books, and if there are any shoppers.

I visited a big bookstore the other day. It’s one I go to every now and again, as it’s in a city I visit maybe once a year. I love it. It’s got a huge range of books, comfy chairs, hand-written recommendations and there are always lots of people browsing and buying.

In the last few years it developed a teen section. It was brilliantly positioned, right by the adult fiction, somewhere to showcase a wide range of books that might appeal to readers of various ages. 

But on this visit, that section had disappeared. I walked around the shop and could not find it. In the end I found a separate room marked ‘Children’s section’. I walked past Gruffalos and Peter Rabbits, past early readers and Lewis Carroll, past Roald Dahl and David Walliams…and more Walliams…. And there I found the teen/Young Adult section. Tucked away in a corner. 

There were no teenagers there. There were no twenty-somethings there. There was no one there except me. 

I checked for my books -  they had several (the new one wasn't out yet). I looked for the books written by friends and found many. I saw a lot of great books that  people would love to read.  I did a little rearranging. I did no invisible mind-melding, because there was no one to meld with.

I left for  adult fiction. As I looked around there I noticed that one YA book had escaped from exile. Multiple copies were piled onto a table in a  prominent spot. It's very own table.  There was a  hand-written recommendation, proclaiming it an important book. And yes, it is a good book.I was glad to see it promoted to readers of all ages.

 But where was the nudge in the direction of other, quite similar, books? Where should readers go who want to read more books like this? No nudge, no suggestions, no context. The marketing ploy for YA in this particular store seemed to be to make one  YA book look special and different by hiding the fact that there are a whole load of other books which also have important themes and capture a young person's viewpoint. 

At the Young Adult Literature Convention (YALC) last week, there was a fabulous atmosphere. There were many teen readers, often accompanied by parents. There were many 20-something readers and older adults too.  But it also seemed  - despite the enthusiasm, despite the energy, despite the general wonderfulness of the whole event - that the market for YA in the UK is pretty small. Niche was the word that sprang to my mind. 

 Blame it on our crazy exam system, blame it on kindles and Youtube, blame it on library cuts, whatever you want, Young Adult is still a small market in the UK. We have the talent. We have amazing publishers. But where are the readers?  

This week I had a conversation with a work colleague. He’s 26. He loves reading Young Adult books, he assured me. The coming of age themes resonate throughout your twenties, he said. Other colleagues of a similar age agree. But by YA they means the books that make it into the mainstream media, or are heavily promoted by publishers and booksellers. John Green. Rainbow Rowell. Veronica Roth. Sarah J Maas. They’re not looking further. They couldn’t name any British YA writers. 

This made me sad. And it also made me feel like a bit of a failure. A few years ago I , alongside fellow authors Keris Stainton (who did all the work) and Susie Day set up a website and started promoting UKYA. We wanted to raise the profile of British authors and British books. We succeeded, up to a point. #UKYA is a hashtag to be reckoned with. There are regular #UKYAchat sessions on Twitter. Lovely bloggers set up #UKYA events and shout about #UKYA books. And many more British YA authors are being published. 

But has the market for YA in the UK grown? Not that much, I suspect. 

 Authors that I know are asking themselves whether they should  age down, go for that popular ‘clean teen’ market? Or is the answer to age up a bit and leave the children’s section behind? Maybe we need to think less about the ‘young’ bit and more about the ‘adult’? After all, John Green’s  massive hit The Fault in Our Stars was published as an adult book in the UK. 

Is the answer more self-promotion? Does social media make a difference? Or are we expending time and energy on reminding the same people again and again that they might like to read our books? Is it possible that the YA market in the UK is going to be entirely dominated by people who have become famous by making videos on YouTube?  Should I be writing a book that Zoella might like?

I love YA. I love writing it and I love reading it. I love the YA books that I read when I was young – books by Honor Arundel, KM Peyton, Joan Lingard. I love the books that I read now. I believe that books read as a young adult can change your life. I also think that it’s important that YA books should come from all over the world, reflecting young people’s experience and opening their minds to other cultures as well. 

But how can we find a broader audience? Any ideas?

Cuckoo by Keren David was published by Atom on August 4th. 

Zoella and the Zeitgeist. By Keren David.

So, Zoella. Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ll know all about the guinea-pig owning ,

Zoella the record-breaker

mascara-wielding vlogger from Brighton, otherwise known as Zoe Sugg. Zoella’s novel, Girl Online was published last week and has hardly been out of the news since. First,  it broke all records by selling 78,000 copies on its first day. Then, yesterday, there was a backlash as papers revealed that Zoella had needed the help of a ghostwriter to produce Girl Online, a ghostwriter who was unlikely to be sharing in any of the royalties from the book’s enormous sales.

Now, one might say, that is fair enough. After all the ghost agreed to the deal. And the sales are nothing to do with the prose, and everything to do with the platform that Zoella has worked hard to create  in her years of blogging, vlogging and  other activities which skilfully inflated her profile and turned her from an ordinary girl into a brand. Zoella’s story is a fairytale for our times, and those who quibble that she missed out the hard graft of actually writing a novel, should consider whether they would want to put in the considerable effort of producing a vlog that so chimes with the interests of teenage girls. And please don’t knock those interests. Teenage girls face so much hostility about their actual likes (Twilight? Pah! Make up? Piffle! The Hunger Games? Narcissism!)  that there is something quite wonderful about someone breaking all records by being exceptionally good at reflecting the taste and concern of actual girls.

 I also like Zoella a lot for talking about her own struggles with anxiety, a problem which is a raging epidemic among teenagers today, particularly those unfortunate enough to be educated in the Age of Gove.   

There are a few things though that do bother me about Zoella’s story. First, that a clearly talented ghostwriter could accept a deal paying her  a modest fee (reportedly in the region of £7k) without the tiniest percentage of royalties for writing 80,000 words in six weeks.  What does that say about the income of writers nowadays?

 Secondly, that no one from Zoella’s management team or publishers -  let alone Zoella herself -  wanted to give the ghostwriter a co-writing credit, or admit up front that Zoella needed a hand to get her ideas down in print. As Zoella herself admitted yesterday: ‘Everyone needs help when they try something new.’  Bring honest wouldn’t have dented her sales one little bit. Today's embarrassment was completely avoidable, and  carries an unpleasant whiff of big business trying to mislead young consumers. I’d like to see more openness about the use of ‘helpers’ in celebrity publishing, more light shed on the process, so that young writers don’t feel hopelessly inadequate when they try and emulate their idols. Also, when celebrities scoop up sales and awards, this would ensure that we’re all clear about who is actually being honoured. Not all celebrities need as much help as Zoella, after all, and a few do all the work themselves. 

And last, I'm concerned that brand, not quality is increasingly valued in children’s and young adult literature. Do all debut authors need millions of vlog followers nowadays? (John Green, after all, gathered fame as a vlogger  -  except I'm pretty sure he writes his books unaided) Or a career as an actor or comedian? Are publishers willing to take a chance on an unknown author - particularly one who isn’t especially glamorous?  How many authors have a chance to build their careers nowadays? It sometimes can feel that people have only a few months to prove their worth.

This was also the week that the shortlist was announced for a new prize for YA from the UK and Ireland. I have a particular interest because my book, Salvage is on the shortlist (short break here, while I dance for joy), but even if it were not I would be applauding the way that this prize celebrates the quality and diversity of books for teenagers being produced in this country. It’s not all about big American bestsellers, it’s not all about the YouTubers, we have a lot of wonderful authors writing excellent books,  that deserve a lot more attention than they get. A big thank you to The Bookseller for spotting this gap and doing something about it.

In a perfect world, Zoella’s triumphant entrance into the world of YA books will spark her interest in the work of other YA authors. She’ll start to read and review books on her vlog. She’ll champion books by people like Anne Cassidy, Sally Nicholls, Lydia Syson, Cat Clarke, Tom Easton, Patrick Ness, Bali Rai  and Zoe Marriott. Rachel Ward, Clare Furniss, Sheena Wilkinson, Meg Rosoff, Joanna Nadin, Emma Pass, Emma Haughton, Marcus Sedgwick, Ruth Warburton, CJ Daugherty, Sarra Manning, Malorie Blackman, Gillian Philip, CJ Skuse, CJ Harper, Helen Grant, Keris Stainton, Tanya Landman, Tanya Byrne, Susie Day  and Sara Grant. Not forgetting Candy Gourlay, Dave Cousins, Bryony Pearce, Kim Curran, Sharon Jones, Rae Earl, Catherine Johnson, Caroline Green, James Dawson, Non Pratt, Katy Moran, Moira Young, Hilary Freeman, Miriam Halahmy, Lee Weatherly, Sophia Bennett, Phil Earle, Luisa Plaja, Gina Blaxill, Liz de Jager, Holly Smale  and Holly Bourne. And more. So many more.

 In 2015 she’ll seek out debut books from the likes of  Eve Ainsworth, Lisa Williamson and Nicole Burstein.  She'll read Liz Kessler's first YA book. She’ll use the hashtag #UKYA, she’ll take part in the regular UKYA chats on twitter, she'll campaign against library closures and she’ll start following some of the UK’s  fabulous book bloggers I may well send her a copy of my 2015 book This is Not a Love Story which features a girl vlogger who loves glimmering tealights, vintage teacups and makeovers. Call it zeitgeist, Zoella.

Most of all, I look forward to Zoella shouting about the books written under her rumoured ghost’s real name: Siobhan Curham. Siobhan has written many wonderful YA books, and she scooped a national award for her novel Dear Dylan, which she self-published with no help from anyone.   

Wouldn’t that be great? Zoella?