Guest blogging convention states that I have to do several things in order to be a good guest. First, I have to be at least half as interesting as my host. Second, I have to speak about a subject on which I am uniquely well-versed. And third, I have to offer relevant insights that align with the stated goals and interests of the host blog.
You’re not going get any of those, and for that I’m sorry. To be very honest, I’m not even all that sorry. At this point in my travels around the “YA-lit blogosphere,” I’ve discovered that most sites are run by ridiculously well-read individuals (often professionals in the field) whose pithyness is only matched by their great store of pity for my unpithyness (a quality I like to call “ empithy”), and whose market savvy outflanks mine, even though I’m currently one of those publishing chimeras known as the “author/editor.”
My subject today is the books I always liked as a kid that had a similar format to a book I wrote recently–which had an odd format that caused a lot of people to say, “hey, what gives with that format?”
they are completely different genres with no overlapping characters or plots).
Immediately, the book DIFFERENT SEASONS by Stephen King might come to mind. If not, then please consider DIFFERENT SEASONS by Stephen King. It too was a collection of four novellas, which you may know by their film adaptations of three of the stories: “Shawshank Redemption,” “Stand By Me,” and “Apt Pupil.”
King has repeated this format in other books, but never more successfully in my opinion. The title, of course, sets the theme: the four seasons. Each story has a “part title” or “half title” to situate the story within that theme.
For example, we open the book and in front of the first story–”Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption”–we see a half-title page with the phrase, “Hope Springs Eternal,” and nothing else. “What is this?” his readers must ask. It’s not the title of the story. It’s not the book title. And, like me, they probably think of it as connective tissue, a literary ligament by which the spring season is perfectly bridged from the overarching title to the specific story of Shawshank, which is entirely about hope. Its most famous line is, “Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things.”
The second story, “Apt Pupil” is preceded by the half title, “Summer of Corruption,” which, if you know the story about a young man who
discovers a Nazi war criminal hiding out in his California suburb, then you see the connection. The last two stories, “The Body” (which was made into the film “Stand By Me”), and “The Breathing Method,” were half titled, “Fall from Innocence” and “A Winter’s Tale,” respectively.
To me, the form is incredibly versatile. It allows a meta-narrative (whether that be an overarching story, or just various ruminations on a 
theme). It demands the same discipline and concision of short stories. They are read in one or two sittings, which I personally enjoy given the fact that book-bloat is the main problem of most the books I read.
I certainly hope it will become more popular. Or, at the very least, I hope the majority of novels become shorter. Whichever the case, I hope I have effectively proselytized something I like—DIFFERENT SEASONS, my own book, STRAW HOUSE, or shorter novels in general.
Also, baby animals!
Thank you, Karin, for allowing this witling to guest post. If anything, I’m sure your readers will be all the happier to see you back in the writer’s chair.