If you are on Twitter, last night you saw this:

I cannot even begin to describe what I’m feeling right now.  When I was in college, I was told by TWO DIFFERENT PROFESSORS that my writing was pretty much crap–that my favorite genres were stupid.  I’m not going to get into a huge debate about what teachers should and shouldn’t do, but, for god’s sake, if you’re going to be a WRITING professor then encourage your students to WRITE.

Anyway.

Yes, draft one of the story that’s been in my head since 2005 is done.  The characters that have sat in my head, tapping their feet impatiently, are finally on paper and you know what?  I love them just as much on paper as I do in my head.

What happens now, you ask?

Now, I go back and edit a few things, fix some consistency issues, make the writing tighter.  108,000 words, while impressive, might scare a lot of agents and publishers.  So, there will be some trim work, some shaving of the fat if you will.

Then my critique partner, the lovely Cassandra Graham, and my husband will start combing through it line by line and giving me much needed feedback – both good and bad.  Things I probably missed.  I mean, I know these characters as if they were my own children – you don’t – so we have to make sure I’m not throwing stuff out there or making them do things that make perfect sense to me but everyone else is all, “Wait, WHAT?”

THEN, after we have the book polished to a point we are happy with, I will send it to a couple of beta readers with no explanation.  Just, “Read this. Tell me if you hate it.”

While beta readers are doing their thing, I’m going to be researching agents and making a list of about ten agents I will query.  That is the next big hurdle – querying.  For those of you who don’t know, I will write a one-page letter that introduces me, my book, the reasons why I want that agent to represent me and it all needs to be in a fashion that makes the agent firmly believe their life would be amazingly better with my book in it.  Some agents ask for sample pages – usually the first 5-10 pages – those are the ones I will focus on since my writing is good.  I believe in my writing.

Hear that, college professors? I believe in my writing.

Depending on how queries go will determine the next steps.  However, while I’m waiting on query responses, I will write something else.  Yes, start a new project.  Why?  Because 1) I’m not guaranteed this book will be published and 2) the only way to get better at anything is to keep doing it.

But

I wrote my story.  Rumor and Bane and Braeden and William and Nyx and Vala and Ren and Jude are on paper.

Hopefully there is a path that exists for you to meet them someday as well.

The journey continues!

*drum roll*

And the winner of Tahereh Mafi’s debut book, SHATTER ME, is….

Congratulations, Jennie!!

Watching a debut author in the days leading up to their first publication (book birthday!) is always a joy to behold. Tahereh Mafi was especially fun to watch as her excitement was palpable. She also acted in a way I think I would (will?) act should I ever be published. She was grateful, amazed, in shock, stunned, dazed, excited, giddy and a whole host of emotions. Her tweets brought a smile to my face.

So, of course, I had to read her book.

“You can’t touch me,” I whisper.

I’m lying, is what I don’t tell him.

He can touch me, is what I’ll never tell him.

But things happen when people touch me.

Strange things.

Bad things.

No one knows why Juliette’s touch is fatal, but The Reestablishment has plans for her. Plans to use her as a weapon.

But Juliette has plans of her own.

After a lifetime without freedom, she’s finally discovering a strength to fight back for the very first time—and to find a future with the one boy she thought she’d lost.

The writing in this book. *flails* I bow to her wordsmithing skills – seriously. The repetition and strike-throughs and stuttered sentences convey the visceral fear Juliette feels around others. The descriptions are delicious and evoke such imagery of this broken world they live in now.

“Their hands are wrapped in gloves wrapped around guns that could put a bullet through a million possibilities.”

Brainspasm…

So, here’s the thing. When I come across a book I know I’ll want to buy, I will preorder it immediately. Sometimes, I accidentally preorder it more than once because I forget. That happened this time. I possess two copies of this book. Normally, I would send it back, BUT

I’m going to give it to one of you. It isn’t signed or anything special but it’s a first edition, release day hardcover copy. It’s pretty and new and shiny and smells wonderful. I bought it with my own money – no one sent it to me or bribed me or promised me cookies to read it.

All you have to do is leave me a comment. That’s it. One comment. Tell me about your day or your favorite color or why you’d want to read this book or just say hi. Leave me a valid email so I can get in touch with you if you win! But only one comment. Subsequent comments won’t count and you don’t get any extra entries for Tweeting, Tumbling, Facebooking, Blogging, Google Plussing or anything else-ing.

USA and Canada only. Sorry, overseas lovelies, I can’t afford the postage.

I’ll run a randomizer thingy on Monday and pick a winner. Easy!

Shatter Me and Tahereh Mafi on the web

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Buy the Book!

I received a handmade hand-written card in the mail today from a very dear friend whom I’ve never met in real life.

Yesterday, I received two texts checking on me from two other friends I’ve never met in real life.

Yes, I’m taking a bit of a social media break at the moment, but I wanted to say thank you to everyone who has tweeted, facebooked, emailed, texted, mailed, and called me either in response to something I’ve said or just on your own regarding my writing.

I’ve been told you’re proud of me, you’re inspired by me, you can’t wait to see me published, you can’t wait to read “it” (even though none of you don’t even know what “it” is!). Your thoughts, prayers, messages, everything nearly bring me to tears (some of you have, KATE and CARRIE ANN) because you constantly remind me that I. Can. Do. This.

I can conquer that voice in my head telling me I can’t. Because I battle that voice every goddamn time I sit down to my computer. You guys drown it out.

And, for that, I’m eternally grateful.

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve done a post on Olivia. Lo and behold, she turned 18 months on Sunday. Yes, seriously. EIGHT.TEEN.MONTHS.

I will let you digest that for a moment.

Done?

She has an opinion on everything. And smirks frequently. Like, SMIRKS. Little baby corners of her mouth twitch upward imperceptibly and she squints slightly. Then moves about her business. Her very important toddler business.

She can sign dog, fish, banana, diaper, eat, more, want. She will often use them interchangeably just to make sure you’re paying attention.

She RUNS everywhere and is afraid of NOTHING…including, but not limited to, her own well-being. The child has no sense of self-preservation and will pitch herself off anything no matter the height. I must be part cat with the number of lives I’ve lost snatching her from busting her face on the floor or edge of something.

It’s as precious as it sounds.

She loves music. LOVES music. Especially music on TV. She even understands when a song ends because she’ll grin really huge and look at me and clap. She appreciates performance and demonstrates thusly. That’s my girl.

She is still chubby though a lot of it is slowly lengthening into toddlerhood. At 18 months, she wears a combination of 2T and 3T clothing. Size 6 shoes. So there’s that happy wardrobe change.

Her imagination is beginning to blossom. The other day, she crawled around on the floor barking then stood up and patted her belly, which is her sign for dog. This cracked her up immensely so she repeated it, totally oblivious to me watching.

She’s a such a treasure. My little angel. I could sit and watch her read for hours. I could watch her delight in a Disney song, clapping excitedly and twirling and dancing, forever. She constantly reminds me to find the happy in everything, no matter how innocuous.

We’ll pretend I was thinking something deep and profound there and not mentally calculating how much laundry I have to do.

It’s a well-known fact that I love to read. Nothing makes me happier than curling up somewhere cozy and devouring a book. My imagination soars and worlds open up. I lose myself for hours/days/weeks and love every moment of it.

So, when Beth Revis asked everyone what book they were most grateful for I was stumped. How could I pick only one? So many books have touched me in so many ways, influenced how I think, how I write, how I perceive the world around me.

But one book sprang to the front of my mind unbidden and I knew it was the one. And it may surprise you but bear with me.

Yes, Memoirs of a Geisha…

If you haven’t read it, please do. The story is overwhelming and gritty and magical and beautiful in the middle with soul-crushing roughness around the edges.

There’s this image of water that creeps through the whole story. Her eyes, her soul, her life.

Imagine a trickle of water at the top of a hill. At the bottom of the hill is the ocean. The shortest route from point A to point B is a straight line, yes? But, along the way, the water runs into obstacles – ruts, logs, stones, hills, animals, etc. And what does it do? It adapts and changes direction if nothing but to get over/around/under/through that obstacle and continue its journey to the ocean.

That image really spoke to me and continues to speak to me to this day. Our lives are like that trickle of water and our dreams/goals/wishes/hopes are at the bottom of that hill in the ocean. And, through life, we hit obstacles that may seem insurmountable. But, by adapting and solving the problem, we overcome it.

So, the book I’m most grateful for? Memoirs of a Geisha because it changed how I view my personal obstacles. I’m not just going to pool up in a hollow and give up. I will find a way to flow to the ocean.

What about you?

Haunting.

There really is no better word for this book. Released at the end of September 2011, this is the first of two parts (I believe, unless she decides to make it a trilogy). And it throws your whole mind for a loop. You spend half your time wondering if you are going crazy right along with Mara and other times flushing at her [seriously twisted] romantic interludes with Noah Shaw, British bad boy.

What I love about this book is Michelle’s writing. It flows so beautifully and sucks you in. It’s dark, delicious, haunting, twisted and everything I admire in a talented writer. I cannot wait for the sequel to this and anything else she writes for that matter.

From the Dust Jacket: Mara Dyer believes life can’t get any stranger than waking up in a hospital with no memory of how she got there.

She’s wrong.

Seriously, though Buy It.

I love these terms.  They appear most frequently in the writing world when referring to “how” you approach your manuscript.  Do you plot everything with outlines, synopses, character spreadsheets, colorful tabs in a binder or in a computer program?  Or do you just open a text window and write by the seat of your pants, letting the words tumble out as they may and THEN go back and edit?

I was thinking about these terms in relation to, well, life.  And it got me thinking about what aspects of my life are plotted and which are by the seat of my pants.  When it comes to my writing, I’m a pantser.  Oh, definitely.  My current manuscript is very Pollack-esque at the moment…

When it comes to mothering, I’m a combination of both.  Olivia depends on a certain amount of routine but it can and does vary depending on her mood, when she wakes up, how she slept/naps/etc.

When it comes to being a wife, I’m a pantser.  I go with it as much as I can.  I try to, at least.  I definitely could use some work in that arena.

When it comes to me…maybe both?  I lot of times I feel like I try to plot but end up getting ripped along with the current of the day to day.  I think I’m forcibly a pantser there.

What about you?  As a wife, husband, parent, writer/gardener/crafter/<insert hobby here>?  Are you a pantser or a plotter?  Do you want to be one or the other?  Would you prefer to be the opposite of what you are?

I had just finished reading The Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins (which, if you haven’t read it, please do. Just. Go. Read it.) and tweeted such on The Twitter. Immediately, I received a reply from a friend saying if I liked that trilogy (or books of that ilk) I should check out this new book, Divergent by this new author, Veronica Roth.

She’s 23. Don’t mind me – I’ll just be over there being 31 and jealous for a moment.

Anyway.

Wow.

To be fair, one should not necessarily compare this to The Hunger Games trilogy because, beyond the similarity of a female heroine struggling to overcome X while falling in love with That Guy and is told in first-person present, it is a COMPLETELY different story. It’s just a pet peeve I have. Like comparing all fantasy to Lord of Rings or Harry Potter. Just doesn’t need to be done, in my opinion. Let the lady tell her story!

Sorry.

Anyhow, this book sucked me in from page one and did not let go until the end. The world Veronica creates is one of darkness, confusion, craziness, sexiness, fun and, at some odd times, enviable. The main character, Tris, is a fun little heroine with quite the defiant streak. Watching her evolve and morph into who she is by the end of Book One (yes, this is a trilogy) is a fantastic ride. Her love interest, Four, is, well, hot. I will just leave it at that.

From Amazon: In Beatrice Prior’s dystopian Chicago, society is divided into five factions, each dedicated to the cultivation of a particular virtue—Candor (the honest), Abnegation (the selfless), Dauntless (the brave), Amity (the peaceful), and Erudite (the intelligent). On an appointed day of every year, all sixteen-year-olds must select the faction to which they will devote the rest of their lives. For Beatrice, the decision is between staying with her family and being who she really is—she can’t have both. So she makes a choice that surprises everyone, including herself.

During the highly competitive initiation that follows, Beatrice renames herself Tris and struggles to determine who her friends really are—and where, exactly, a romance with a sometimes fascinating, sometimes infuriating boy fits into the life she’s chosen. But Tris also has a secret, one she’s kept hidden from everyone because she’s been warned it can mean death. And as she discovers a growing conflict that threatens to unravel her seemingly perfect society, she also learns that her secret might help her save those she loves… or it might destroy her.

This book is fun. That’s the best word I can use to describe it. It’s one I will read again very soon.

Buy it!

Okay, we all know it’s there.  The healthy section.  In some grocery stores, it can take up an entire corner or several aisles or a whole wall.  Others (squints sideways at my local grocery store) have a pathetic little nook stuffed to one dark side of the produce arranged in such a manner that you would completely miss it if you weren’t actually looking for it.

Therein lies my issue – HAVING TO LOOK FOR IT.

Why on earth should I have to LOOK for the healthy food?  For my gluten-free foods?  For my organic pantry goods?  For healthier snacks for my daughter?  For healthier quick meals for my husband while he’s working?

The healthy section of the grocery store bothers me because I really honestly believe that not only should there be a wide selection of brands available – Udi’s, Amy’s, Annie’s, Scharr, etc. etc. – but they should just simply be with all the other food.  Why does my delicious Scharr gluten-free pasta need to be segregated from the Barilla?  Why do my organic canned tomatoes need to be ostracized to the other end of the store from their Hunt’s brethren?  Why can’t all our granola bars, power bars, protein bars, Luna bars, Cliff bars and the like live in harmony on the fruit snacks and cereal aisle?

I really believe stores might actually sell more of these items (and at higher prices! more profits! winning all around!) if they just put them on the regular old aisles along with everything else.  People perusing chicken stock or cereal or box mixes or chips could purse their lips and wonder at this interesting new packaging here and, “ooo, this here looks very tasty!  Never mind that it’s $4 more than what I normally buy.  It’s healthy!”

People like options.  People want to eat healthier – or, at least, give off the appearance of doing so.  Put the damn food together so they can make fully informed decisions.  I mean, really, WHY would you separate all the chips into two completely different ends of the store?

It makes no sense.  None.