The Y Factor By Anya Novikov

Anya Novikov

Any reader, not to mention any writer, knows how much William Shakespeare has influenced modern lexicon. Every day we see terms such as sea change, foregone conclusion, sorry sight, and fool’s paradise. All his. In fact, any cool term that isn’t a cliché probably originated with Will.

Does this happen in everyday modern life? Indeed, made-up terms and definitions burrow into our vernacular--and dictionaries, all the time. Think of bromance, a non-sexual, non-romantic close relationship between two guys. How about buzzworthy? Something whether by internet or word of mouth raises massive interest?

Ever heard of emoji? You know, those tiny icons and images used to express emotion when words just won’t do.

So...should we use stuff like this in our writing? Will a certain phrase or lingo stick our stories story permanently in a particular year, or setting? Or will readers think us hopelessly old-fashioned if we don’t use updated stuff in our books?

Right now, I’m especially thinking about the trend, or should I say trendY way of adding Y to words to make then adjectives. I mean, we’ve always had sleepy, grumpy and gooey.

Well, and trendy itself.

But lately, Y is becoming ever-present. At a session at the RWA conference last July in Atlanta, a presenter clearly annunciated, angsty and tropey.

I had a reader like my books because they aren’t judgey.

Articles in my local Sunday paper recently discussed Pinteresty and Tumblry social media. An actress’s hair was described, not as auburn, but auburny. And an upcoming TV series heralded as flash-forwardy and flash-backy. Both.

A program I like to watch features amateur home cooks. One judge hailed a contestant’s effort as a restauranty dish.

Since I’ve made myself aware of the Y factor, I’ve heard or read twisty, moley, and spammy. Oh, let’s not forget James Bondy.

But I find myself falling into the trap. On a recent trip to Leadville, Colorado, I extolled hubby to find a “local-colory” place to eat. Texting our daughter after a particular uninspiring stretch of highway, I called Hotchkiss, Arizona “a little deserty place.” And when she responded with a picture of her baby kicking back after playtime, I described him as looking “relaxy.”

Maybe all of the above will start appearing regularly in books. Dictionaries. Blogs.

Will they appear in my books? Can’t say.

Y-et.

Dora here. LovelY, Anya. lol

What about you? 

Have you noticed any trends in writing?

What are your favorites? Least favorites?

The Circle Girls: Once Upon A Witch
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Anya Novikov lives on California’s Central Coast with her firefighter husband. They thank the Lord every day for their sweet family, good health and many travels. Although Anya writes full time, she finds she misses “high school” because, she always learned much more from her students than she taught! She’s got a Contest Page so check it out . . . and keep in touch. Connect with Anya:
anyanovikov.blogspot.com
anya.novikov@aol.com

The Circle Girls: Once Upon a Witch 
God will give you blood to drink . . . An ordinary teenager finds out what witch-hunting is all about—in her own everyday world.
When Deliverance “Delli” Willis, an ordinary, almost-sixteen-year-old, finds herself dreaming wild dreams, she’s amazed when some of the stuff appears during her classroom unit on the Salem Witch Trials: When a dream girl of 1692, who shares Deliverance’s name, finds herself entranced by a mysterious man in the woods, Delli finds a new neighbor walking through her family avocado grove.

Eager to share the handsome newcomer with her circle of friends, she doesn’t realize the danger of someone unique entering the closed loop. Fingers point, jealousies surge, lies are cast, sides taken—and people are out for blood. It’s a modern-day witch-hunt that collides with 1692 in ways Delli never dreamed.

It will take lessons from her dreamscape and a stand against bullies to tighten Delli’s faith in our omnipresent God.

JANUARIES by Tanya Hanson

January

When I was little, January was the cruelest month. Watching the Rose Parade only reminded me I had another year to wait before Christmas came again. Oh, I don’t mean just presents and cookies and new black patent leather Mary Janes. I mean the whole wonder of memorizing Luke 2 for the Christmas program at school. The joy of the carols, the “gloria” of the angel wings I wore in the pageant. Most of all, the splendor of a tiny baby who was really the King of all kings...

The Januaries of high school and college weren’t much different. January only meant the end of Christmas break and back to the grind. And as a teacher myself later on, January slung me headlong into final exams and report cards.

January five years, though, found me barraging God with gratitude. After a long sophomore slump, I had a second romance novel scheduled to release!

And it released the same day my husband was diagnosed with cancer.

Those horrible months taught me it wasn’t about the book. It was prayers and tears and caretaking as he battled to live, then struggled to regain his health.

Because of my husband’s ordeal, and the stretching of faith so taut my breath can still stop, I got the urge to write inspirational romance. By January 2010, I believed God had opened a new window, and I soon contracted a bunch of novellas about a fictional Colorado ranch family. I stood there, glowing, atop my pretend Rocky Mountain town. Into these stories flowed the people and stories of my own life and heart. Despite my best efforts and prayers, though, I can’t say I’m any kind of success. So once again, I realized it isn’t about the books. This time, it’s about the message.

Maybe reading Book three, a woman will get her husband or son to check himself for testicular cancer and help save his life. Maybe somebody will realize there can be falling in love during cancer. Maybe, like in Book Four, some reader’s estranged family will break down barriers that divide them. Maybe some couple on the brink of collapse, due to the stresses of an unimaginably disabled child might, can find the faith and trust to make it, upon coming across Book Six.

Maybe, like in a few of the stories, readers will simply realize that taking a city slicker wagon train trip can be just plain fun!

I don’t know.

This January has opened a new window, and it’s a terrifying one. By year’s end, I’ll be another name, Anya Novikov, and part of a young-adult launch. I left teaching years ago, I’m a gramma now of two tiny boys, and I have no idea how to reach a teenage audience. I guess I’ll have to use the next few months to try to figure it all out.

One thing. Mine won’t be the only set of footprints in the sand as my new journey starts.

 

Determined to get her life back on track, Mary Grace Gibson takes on a substitute-teaching job, grateful for the room and board offered at Hearts Crossing Ranch. The bustling family life helps her heal after abandonment by her ex. But her little boy’s serious disabilities make her cautious about revealing her secrets to anybody. Even Scott Martin, the handsome cowboy who’s fast stealing her heart.

Her former student now grown up, cowboy and graphic artist Scott Martin is instantly drawn to the beautiful single mom. She’s had some hard luck but never let go of her faith. Their age gap doesn’t fret him, and their kisses ignite his love. But as they fall for each other, Mary Grace’s lack of trust in him shatters his feelings, for he’s been down that broken trail before.

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I’m a California beach girl happily married to my personal hero (firefighter and cancer survivor). We’ve got two grown kids, who are the best thing I’ve ever done, and two little grandsons who totally obsess us. I love travel, country music, Hallmark movies, and McDonald’s iced coffee. I don’t like to cook, am terrified of down escalators, am a proud Defender of Wildlife, and I volunteer at our local horse rescue.