Get Back, Loretta

Big News

2011-10-04T13:58:00.000-07:00

From today's Publishers Marketplace:

Suzanne Hayes and Loretta Nyhan's I'LL BE SEEING YOU, a story of unexpected friendship told through letters shared between two American women on the home front during World War II, to Erika Imranyi at Mira, in a two-book deal, by Anne Bohner at Pen & Ink Literary and Joanna Volpe at Nancy Coffey Literary & Media Representation.

So...how did this happen?

Magic? Happenstance? Accidentally?

I fell in love with Suzy's words on her lovely blog. She read mine, too. We connected. We emailed. We discovered.

Both of us had projects on sub and waiting is hard and lonely. We became friends.

One day Suzy said, in her charming and enthusiastic way, "Let's write a book together while we wait." I said, in my best Spicoli voice, "Uh...okay."

We're both history geeks, the World War II era in particular. When Suzy suggested we write letters to each other as women waiting for their men to come home from the war, I was all over it.

When I got that first letter, my character came to me, fully formed, and started talking. It sounds crazy, but Rita became real, as did Suzy's character, Glory. I found myself refreshing my inbox, hoping a new letter would pop up. I had no idea when this would happen---sometimes days would go by.

When a letter did come, I'd take one look at the Dear Rita subject line and my heart would shake. The computer couldn't bring it up fast enough. My fingers couldn't type a reply fast enough.

We ached for these characters, laughed with them, cried for them. And when the last letter was written, we cried for ourselves. Because it was over.

But then, it wasn't. Our agents, Joanna Volpe and Anne Bohner, loved the book. Later, a wonderful editor, Erika Imranyi at MIRA, loved it as well.

We couldn't be happier. And we couldn't be luckier. How can we adequately thank the people who are making our dreams possible?

And, Suzy, how can I thank you enough? My crazy East Coast twin? Someday we will meet face to face, and you'll take one look at me and know what this has all meant. Love you.

L

Sunset for Woody

2011-09-07T09:09:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I walked out of Midnight in Paris and said something I never thought I'd say after watching a Woody Allen film: "Well, that was cute."

And it was, in a literary geek/celeb spotting kind of way. Oh, there's Hemingway. And Gertrude Stein. And Omigod, Adrien Brody makes the best Salvador Dali!

Yeah.

In Midnight in Paris, Woody Allen revisits the magical elements that made The Purple Rose of Cairo such an interesting, compelling film. But in Cairo he seemed to know this: the realism is just as important as the magic. Midnight in Paris is visually stunning and fairly whimsical, but it presents a world populated with caricatures. At some point during this film, Allen decided to sacrifice believability for jokes.

The thing is, he used to do both so well.

I get that he's 75, long past the age when most directors have retired or simply faded away. I also understand that artists evolve and later work may reflect a shift in perspective or a refusal to follow trends. I also suspect some find great comfort in repetition, in watered down versions of older, more successful works. I don't want Woody Allen to be guilty of the latter. It's just too disappointing.

I think he's still got it in him to create movies like the following, movies that made me laugh and think in equal measure, movies that made me want to be a better writer:

Annie Hall

Manhattan

Hannah and Her Sisters

Zelig

The Purple Rose of Cairo

Radio Days

Crimes and Misdemeanors

Husbands and Wives

Manhattan Murder Mystery

Want to add any to the list?

Happy 20th Birthday, Kody Keplinger!

2011-08-08T04:04:00.000-07:00

(Kody Keplinger, the author of THE DUFF and the upcoming SHUT OUT, is an agent sister, friend, and occasional writing challenge buddy. This is for her.)

I know, I know...in some ways it does suck to say adios to your teens. You're stressing. I could feel your anxiety over the Internet.

At first, I couldn't understand it. You published a novel at 18. You have another coming out in a couple of weeks. You've accomplished more than people twice your age. You're independent and lovely and focused.

But then...I realized that I'd forgotten.

I'd forgotten that jumping into your third--and first wholly adult--decade is a throat tightening plunge into an ocean of wide open nothingness. The water appears vast and overwhelming, and it seems the waves pull your raft--the safe, secure anchor of teen life--farther and farther out to sea.

My 19 year old self, full of nerves about the future, wrote a timeline for my 20s in my journal: By 19-- I would publish my novel (Um...not that I'd actually written one at that point!) In 19-- I would travel through Europe with only a back on my back. Then I would meet a wonderful man and get married. We'd live on a commune in California and an artists' colony in Provence and a rustic cabin in Maine. Etcetera, etcetera--the list was waaaay long.

Some of those things happened. Some of those things didn't. Your twenties is when you realize planning with pretend knowledge of the future is useless. And this is a freaking exciting revelation. Because anything can happen.

It is also universally acknowledged that at some point between twenty and thirty you will be the best looking version of you. (This is not a superficial statement because this beauty comes more from internal than external factors.) Acne will disappear, baby fat will melt away, and you will be years away from wrinkles and age spots. Your skin will glow. You might not have much money, but you will be secure in your taste and confident in your style. Your hair will shine. And one day you'll be sitting with some friends, holding a glass of wine or a root beer or a San Pellegrino, in a romantic cafe in a city you've come to know as your own, in a city that you've come to own. The sun will make the glass in your hand sparkle and you'll think of all the things you know and all the things there's left to learn and the road is so deliciously long. "This," you'll say, "is life."

And it is good.

Happy Birthday, Kody. The best is yet to come...

For more birthday wishes, check out blog posts by Amy Lukavics, Lisa and Laura Roecker, Erica O'Rourke, and Kaitlin Ward later today!

Back to the Past

2011-08-04T11:57:00.000-07:00

The book I'm working on now is set in WWII-era Iowa City. Yep, Iowa.

I have a good grasp of 20th C. history, but I nearly googled myself to death trying to get the setting right. There's not a lot out there, but, I thought, what I found was enough. Through the University of Iowa photo archives I saw where my character might live, where she'd do her grocery shopping, and where she'd stop for a cup of tea or a beer, depending on her preference. Their collection is wonderful.

Still, I had to make some assumptions based on more general historical facts. For example, small-town USO functions were typically held in YMCAs or YWCAs, so when my gal went to roll bandages for the guys overseas, she skipped on down to the Y.

Those assumptions started to bother me. What if I was wrong? You might think, who the heck is going to know the difference? Well, I would. Someone who was around back then might.

So I called the Johnson County Historical Society. The woman who picked up, Sue Foster, patiently listened to my questions. "You need to talk to Bob Hibbs," she said when I finished. "He's our local historian and he knows everything. Let me see if I can find his number..."

She did find it, and next thing I knew I was asking Mr. Bob Hibbs where I might go if I attended a USO function in 1943 if I lived in Iowa City.

"All the USO activities were held in the American Legion Building," he said without even pausing to think. "The old YMCA building burned down."

Okay, then. I would have been wrong.

This might not seem like a big deal to you. But the more I learn about the brave, industrious souls who inhabited Iowa during the war, the more I want to do right by them. It seems an insult to assume now. I want to know.

The closest you can get to that knowledge is through real, live human beings. Thanks, Sue. Thanks, Bob. My book is better thanks to both of you.

Depraved YA: An English Teacher-y Response

2011-06-28T05:57:00.000-07:00

It's been a few weeks since Meghan Cox Gurdon's infamous article in the Wall Street Journal decried the current crop of YA novels as pits of depravity, luring our youth into lives as cutters, bulimics, and drug abusers.

The response ranged from ad hominem attacks (Gurdon is clueless, an idiot, stupid, old, out-of-touch, etc.) to thoughtful personal essays (Libba Bray, Sherman Alexie), to a tidal wave of tweets including the hashtag #YASAVES.

Do books have the power to save teens? Well, this has been my personal truth. I was a horribly insecure person during those years, a misfit, unsure of my place in the world. I hate to think of what would have happened to me without the lifeline books provided.

But in equating YA literature with self-help books, we cease to view it as literature. This is more dangerous than Gurdon's article. If an author's main goal while writing a book is to offer solace to the suffering reader, it often comes at the expense of characterization, plot, even diction, the writer's careful choice of words. (And you are insane if you think I'm going to offer examples, but there are many who use the story to serve the issue, not vice-versa.)

This mindset also makes it nearly impossible to evaluate the worth of books like John Green's LOOKING FOR ALASKA, a young adult novel which contains all the hallmarks of classic literature. To describe it as a suicide book is to lessen the artistic impact of the novel.

Which leads me to the dicey topic of quality. This, I think, was an underlying message in Gurdon's WSJ piece. In evaluating these books solely on what she feels their impact is on a young reader, Gurdon is essentially saying this genre is not worthy of true critical analysis. Her method is not only impossible given the breadth of options in YA, it is simply not an effective way to critique art.

And YA lit is where some of the most exciting writers in any genre are crafting novels. Look at Jandy Nelson and Nova Ren Suma's use of language. Or Suzanne Collins and Veronica Roth's expertise with plot. Or Sarah Dessen's ability to extend a metaphor. Or Charles Benoit's experimentation with point of view in YOU.

I teach literature courses to young adults. I know they are fully capable of looking at novels with a critical eye. To assume a monkey see/monkey do response is to insult their intelligence, and the artistic merit of the work. I hope Meghan Cox Gurdon eventually comes to that realization.

Happy Birthday, Bobby D!

2011-05-24T08:09:00.001-07:00

Today is Bob Dylan's 70th birthday. Second only to the Beatles on the list of my all-time greatest influences, I can't go too long without listening to his music. When I was a teen I studied his lyrics, so much so that I copied Tangled Up in Blue onto my history folder, with the seriousness and accuracy of a surgeon. When the teacher's droning got to be too much, I'd run my fingers over the words, again and again, hoping their perfection would seep into me somehow. I learned a lot about diction from Dylan, and the power of the image. Those lessons have stuck with me.

In honor of Bob's big day, here are my favorites of his many songs. Feel free to add your own to the list in the comments.

1. Tangled Up in Blue: A friend once said I require narratives of my music. I'd say that assessment is spot-on. Tangled Up in Blue is a freaking 7 minute novel. LOVE this song.

2. Don't Think Twice, It's All Right: So simple on the surface but so emotionally complex, really.

3. Just Like a Woman: I, uh, assumed he was talking about me. He was, right?

4. Subterranean Homesick Blues: Maybe I just like the performance arty-ness of Bob standing there with the words on placards. Maybe it reminds me of the Beats. Maybe it's because the words feel like little punches.

5. Baby Let Me Follow You Down: Okay, he didn't write this one, but it's the perfect blend of Dylan's signature guitar, harmonica, voice. It just always makes me feel good.

Happy birthday, Bob!

I'm a Winner!

2011-05-02T08:46:00.000-07:00

So...

Writer/Fellow Blogger Diane Lebow (Check out her blog, About Writing) gave me this award:

In accepting it, I've agreed to write seven intriguing things about myself (um...no problem there--I know very few writers who would pass up an opportunity to talk about themselves) and to pass it along. As far as the latter goes, I'll pass it along to any interested blogger--go for it! Here are my seven:

1. My husband and I met when we were nine years old. Seriously. At fifteen, we went on one date. It didn't go well. Eight years later we decided to try again and had a better time. We've been married for thirteen years!

2. My favorite flower is the ranunculus.

3. I like to eat my ginger and garlic raw. I brush my teeth a lot.

4. On the Myers-Briggs scale, I'm an INFJ, which, at one percent of the population, is the rarest of all types. I don't mention this to be braggy, as the descriptions always start with, "It won't be an easy life for the INFJ, but it will be interesting." Um...yeah. Totally.

5. I make crazy good lemon bars.

6. I like people, but I need to be alone a lot and I reaaaally like silence (see INFJ).

7. I don't have any tattoos, but I do have a birthmark on my upper right arm that looks like Mr. Peanut.

Okay, feel free to give yourself this award and get cracking on those big reveals...

Thoughts on Twitter from the Hippie Emily Post

2011-04-26T07:12:00.000-07:00

Twitter is hard on writers. Especially those of the unpublished variety (Does anyone use the term "pre-published" anymore or has it been banished after general agreement that it's freaking obnoxious?). This is me : @LorettaNyhan. Make a pie chart of who I follow and you'll get a big old wedge of other writers, followed by a diverse group of publishing professionals: editors, publishing companies, agents, etc. A tiny sliver would represent people outside of publishing.

So most of my communication takes place between me and people in the book business.

Until recently, this was often problematic.

I'd assumed Twitter operated like a quiet pub on a Sunday afternoon. Three or four people sitting at the bar sipping their drinks, the conversation both leisurely and democratic.

Um...no.

For an unpubbed writer, Twitter is like being in a crowded classroom full of attention starved Type A students with a constant rotation of substitute teachers. Some subs care passionately about teaching and their students, others could give a crap about the students but love their subject. Some are just passing time until something better comes along. Some have borderline personality disorders.

The students desire to be heard, to stand out from the pack, to earn recognition for their "specialness." Not going to happen. Not often, anyway.

My Twitter philosophy has been this: if I find a tweet interesting, I should feel free to respond, no matter who the person is. I mean, the tweeter put it out there, right? Is this the way you guys feel?

This is fine if you understand three things: 1. No one is obligated to respond to you. 2. You might learn things about people you admire that you'd rather not know. 3. If you are responding to someone you hope to one day work with professionally, then conduct yourself in a professional manner.

Now, I like to think I haven't embarrassed myself on Twitter (yet), but it makes me cringe to think how easy it is to do so. I see unpubbed writers replying to big-name authors, editors, agents, etc., acting like they are not only sitting at a bar, but about to fall off the barstool. As in any industry, there is a hierarchy in publishing. The very idea of this may clash with your rebellious writerly spirit, but you need to respect it if you're going to get anywhere.

This is not to say the big-wigs won't respond. Some might engage. Others might not. Authors tend to have thickly drawn lines when it comes to tweeting. One famous author simply doesn't reply to anyone. Some only reply to other "names." One New York Times bestseller responds to everyone. I've seen her avatar so many times I think I know her face better than my own. And, though I risk sounding like Stuart Smalley, all of these choices are okay, and have nothing to do with you.

For an unpubbed writer, things get a bit trickier when responding to editors. These are people who might find my work in their inboxes someday. My rules for these tweets: 1. Proofread. 2. Don't fawn. 3. Avoid saying anything remotely stalker-like. You would think these rules are easy to follow. You would be wrong. I'm probably overthinking @ replies now, but I'd rather err on the side of caution. In this market there are so many reasons for an editor or agent to reject. Setting off the "Twitter Psycho!" alarm shouldn't be one of them.

Writing is a lonely endeavor, so it's not a surprise we all jumped into the Twitter pool feet first. Let's not forget that though social networking may jumble the private and public, it's not an excuse for us to do the same.

Friday Five: Happy Writer Edition

2011-03-25T03:18:00.000-07:00

Hey, everyone! I'm starting a new project, which basically means I can't think of anything other than my shiny new story. When first drafting, I get a little wacko about my writing ritual, so for my list this week, I thought I'd share the five things I absolutely need in order to write. Here goes:

1. Silence: I can listen to music while I edit, but lyrics distract me when I'm writing a first draft.

2. Green tea: Absolutely necessary. Every day. Couldn't live without it.

3. Chocolate: Dark. Bitter. Like my humor.

4. Natural sunlight: Tall order for Chicago these days.

5. Yoga pants: Comfort beats fashion. Every time.

What about you guys? What do you need to write?

Dickie and Me

2011-03-19T14:55:00.000-07:00

Today I took my kids to see Jackie and Me, a fantastic play about Jackie Robinson, the first man to break the color barrier in major league baseball. It's an exciting and emotional story, and at many points it would be natural to get a little choked up. Which I did.

But what really got the tears rolling down my face was the first scene in the Dodger's locker room, when Dixie Walker floats an anti-Robinson petition and Pee Wee Reese refuses to sign.

It's a courageous act, but that's not what got me all verklempt. It was this: I knew who these guys were. I shook Pee Wee Reese's hand in a Brooklyn public library once. I knew all about the Brooklyn Dodgers.

Because one of my greatest friends happened to be one of their biggest fans.

His name was William Richard Haray but everyone called him Dick, or sometimes, Dickie. He grew up in Flatbush, in the shadow of Ebbets Field, sneaking into the ballpark when the cops weren't looking and playing stickball in the streets when they were. When he was nine, a delivery truck mowed him over and, sprawled out over his mother's kitchen table with his head split open, he received last rites. His family called the priest before the doctor. It was that bad. But he survived.

Though he lived in Queens for most of his life, he had the thickest Brooklyn accent I'd ever heard. There is a difference, you know. He called me "cuz," though technically you could barely call us related. When he was 21 he married my mom's second (or third?) cousin, Mary Ann. "Best decision I ever made," he always said. But he didn't act like it, not at first. There were drinking times and the troubles that coincide, though those were long over by the time we hung out.

When I moved to New York, I moved in with Dick and Mary Ann. Mary Ann worked in the city, but Dick, nearing retirement, had an easygoing job with Streets and San, so he had more hours to himself. I didn't have a job at first, or any friends, so I made one. Dick.

We sat around eating Ritz crackers and peanut butter and watching Magnum P.I. We slurped cups of cream of chicken soup at the Greeks, and walked around Ditmars Avenue. He always told jokes, and they were always funny. He also told me about growing up in Brooklyn, about the Dodgers, about his past. What he was really telling me, though, was how to live. I had enough disappointment and rough spots in my own life by then, and I was a little lost. We never talked about the ugly stuff all that much, and we didn't have to. I never asked for advice, because what I got from him was exactly what I was looking for: understanding.

One day I told him something I'd never told anyone.

"I want to write a book," I said.

"You should write the story of my life," he crowed. "Instant best seller." I wanted to tell him I couldn't do that. I could never do his life justice with my words.

"When're you gonna write that book?" he'd always ask, long after I told him, long after I moved back to Chicago. "Jesus, write it already," he'd complain during one of our increasingly rare phone calls. "I'll be six feet under when it comes out."

Finally, I started writing my book. Some days I'd get frustrated and freeze up at my computer, unable to do much of anything. Then I'd hear his voice: "Shit or get off the pot! Get movin'." And I did.

For some reason, I never told him when I began to write. I figured he'd had enough of my talking and I'd tell him when it was over and I had something real to show him.

Then, two years ago, I came home from work to find a message from my mom. "Call me," she said, and from the catch in her voice I knew it was something bad.

Dick died of heart failure. He'd been in and out of the hospital, but I didn't think he'd actually die. He always seemed like one of those people wily enough to dodge the reaper.

I cried hard that night, great heaving sobs. Because I'd lost a friend. Because I never thanked him.

Writing is a crazy thing to do. Publishing is a crazy business. But every time I hit an obstacle, every time I even consider giving up, I hear that voice in my head, full of Brooklyn, and it says, "Jesus effing Christ, just keep moving already."

I should have thanked him.

Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig

2011-03-17T01:58:00.000-07:00

Happy St. Patty's Day!

My paternal grandparents came from Ireland, and my father even spent some of his formative years in The Glen of Aherlow, County Tipperary. Someday I'd like to visit this country I've heard so much about, but until then I have to satisfy myself with the next best thing, Chicago.

On St. Patrick's Day, being Irish and being a Chicagoan are synonymous. I've been celebrating in this city since before I could stand (and, during some of my college years, I could barely do that!). There are so many things I love about my hometown, and this holiday brings out some of my favorites:

1. Dyeing the Chicago River green:

Isn't it gorgeous? The city uses some top secret vegetable dye concoction I probably don't want to know too much about. It doesn't last long, which makes us all appreciate it all the more.

2. The St. Patrick's Day Parade, downtown Chicago. It isn't what it used to be, but it's still a great experience for the kids. When I was younger, it was always held on the actual holiday, but that resulted in too many kids ditching school. Um, not that I would have done anything like that. One other thing I wouldn't have been caught dead doing is adding Peppermint Schnapps to my Shamrock Shake. Never. Uh-uh.

3. Irish Dancers--before Riverdance, before they started wearing heavy pancake makeup and crazy wigs, young Irish-Americans learned how to dance a jig in smelly Catholic school gymnasiums. Now, there are Irish Dancing schools popping up everywhere, with kids from all walks of life practicing reels and begging their parents to take them to an Irish feis.

4. Green beer. I don't even drink beer and I think it's cool.

5. Irish Folk Music--Chicago has long been home to incredible Irish folk bands. Numerous friends and cousins drifted in and out of these groups, but one from my teenage years is still performing and sounds incredible: Baal Tinne. Have a listen to the band at Milwaukee Irish Fest.

So, Happy St. Patty's to you all! Wear green--everyone's Irish today!

I Really, Really Like Me

2011-03-12T06:22:00.000-08:00

Every issue of Marie Claire contains a short two-page spread where the mag picks a different city and asks a handful of women living there one question: What do you like about yourself? The answers are varied and sometimes unexpected, and the women are not all super models in training, but a motley mix of ethnicities and age groups.

I love this. And I was thinking about it yesterday, because this week was one of those where I found myself drowning in the "If only" pool. If only I had more talent, better clothes, more coordination, a skinnier bod, a straighter nose, more money, a quicker mind...

Yeah. Totally useless and destructive.

So for today's Friday Five * I'm going to list things I like about myself. Feel free to do the same in the comments section--it'll be good for you.

1. I throw amazing dinner parties. My husband and I could have a Food Network show, like the Heelys. Seriously.

2. I'm super polite. I always say "please" and "thank-you." I stay to the right when walking up or down a staircase. I give up my seat on the bus for pregnant women and the elderly.

3. I smile a lot.

4. My head is FULL of random factoids that actually come in handy when I write. And I rock Trivial Pursuit. You want me on your team. Definitely.

5. I can usually find a little bit of beauty in everyone. I consider this an amazing gift.

Okay, so let's hear yours. Don't be shy!

*I know it's Saturday. Deal.

FYI

2011-03-09T06:31:00.000-08:00

Fan-freaking-tastic discussion of sex in YA over at Kody Keplinger's blog.

#YAMafia--Not Exactly the Corleones

2011-03-07T06:38:00.000-08:00

I was in Cleveland this weekend attending the launch party for Lisa and Laura Roecker's book, The Liar Society (Yes, it was that awesome.), so I missed the brou-ha-ha (always wanted to use that) over this thing called the YA Mafia.

I've got to admit, the first time I read that hashtag I snort-laughed because I got this instant image of Libba Bray grabbing Maureen Johnson, planting one on her and growling, "I know it was you, Fredo."

Because it is just that ridiculous.

So what exactly is this YA Mafia? As far as I understand, it's a group of established YA writers who promote each other's books, hand out blurbs like candy on Halloween to fellow insiders, and meangirl authors on the rise or those who negatively review their books on goodreads. Am I right? I'm not exactly sure, because I didn't have the time to read through all the tweets and blogposts this morning BECAUSE I WAS WRITING.

Which is what those accused of being part of this conspiracy were probably doing. Because that's what writers spend 95% of their time doing. The other 5% is spent frantically trying to hold together the other aspects of our lives--cleaning the house, tending the family, taking a shower just often enough so we don't offend. If these mafioso--with all their deadlines, promotional responsibilities, and speaking engagements--have time to orchestrate high level harassment, I want to know how they do it! (Hey--now that's an idea for a SCBWI seminar!)

I'm not denying there are drama queens, jerks, and vindictive people in this industry. However, for the time I've been a participant in the YA community, I haven't seen many. I have seen a lot of kindness, generosity, and thoughtfulness, though.

Once you've given yourself over to paranoia, it keeps growing until it evolves into narcissism. I know because I've allowed this to happen to me.

Okay, here's a by now standard Loretta analogy/story (I promise I have a point): I signed up for my very first yoga class in January. I'm a yoga kind of gal, but I always practiced at home to a DVD because I was absolutely terrified to be in a room where everyone would pass judgment on my ass while I bent in half for downward dog. And what if I started sweating? Farted? Split my yoga pants? Don't laugh. These were real fears for me.

On the first day of class I considered grabbing my yoga mat and running like hell. When we started our breathing exercises I was convinced everyone was secretly laughing at my "Om." But you know what? NO ONE was paying the least bit of attention to me, because these were true students of yoga. Their focus was on the practice of the art. It wasn't that I was beneath notice, it was that their job was to make themselves better. And if everyone in the class thought that way, we'd ALL improve.

Now let's hope the next hashtag getting all the attention will be #amwriting. Because that's what we should all be doing.

(That said, if Libba, Maureen, Holly, et al., want to sabotage me, I would LOVE it because I'd get more blog followers. And it would fuel my embarrassingly detailed Jason Bourne fantasies. But that's another blog post altogether...)

The Liar Society

2011-03-01T05:20:00.000-08:00

Happy Launch Day to THE LIAR SOCIETY!

Lisa and Laura Roecker's debut mystery is available today! Whoo-Hoo!

Freaky Friday

2011-02-18T16:19:00.000-08:00

Grumpy today. Instead of the usual list of likes, I'm focusing on the hates:

1. People who call articles of clothing "pieces."

2. Parents who allow their children to do things like this (Give it 45 seconds) and then sign them over to Simon Cowell. I mean, she's going to give herself an aneurysm before you can say American Idol, right? Don't these people read Star Magazine? Lindsay Lohan. Britney Spears. Christina Aguilera. Cautionary tales, all. Give this girl five years and she'll be found passed out by the pool at the Chateau Marmont.

3. Justin Bieber (see above).

4. Modernizing/adapting/being inspired by/outright stealing any characters, settings, plotlines, or titles from Jane Austen. Don't get me wrong, I love Jane and Bridget Jones's Diary is one of my all-time favorite books (inspiration: Pride and Prejudice), but she has been sucked dry, people! Only the bones are left--let them rest in peace!

5. Hating on James Franco. Okay, he might be annoying to some, but in a world dominated by Kardashians, isn't it nice to see someone pursue higher education with such dedication? How many Ph.Ds does the guy have now? 18?

Whew, I feel better. How about you guys? Any hates?

From the Vault: Crushing

2011-02-01T08:01:00.001-08:00

This is the best book promo I've seen in a while. It's for Allison Pearson's novel, I THINK I LOVE YOU, a story of the power of first crushes.

So...try to think back to the thirteen year old you. Who was your first big crush? Here's mine:

Oh yeah, I was hungry like the wolf...

Spill! Who did you have hanging up in your locker?

In Which I Get a Little Rambly

2011-01-19T10:46:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I sent off a first draft of my current WIP to agent extraordinaire. Today I went wandering to reward myself.

I used to love walking around with nowhere to go, exploring and noticing and observing. I live a totally different life now, full of responsibilities and constant action (make lunches, walk the kids to school, go to the post office, grade papers...), so I often forget what it's like to move without purpose. The most delightful things come across one's path when there are no expectations.

So...I found myself in the next town over, walking block after block, when I spotted a shop I'd rushed past hundreds of times, always grumbling to myself that I should go in when I have a spare minute. This time I went in. On the surface the place was typical for a neighborhood filled with Victorian homes and people with money--candles, natural skin products, cutesy wall plaques with inspirational quotes. Then I looked a little closer. Some books on Native American spiritualism lined one wall. Palmistry and fortune telling the other. Okaaay, I thought. Then I spotted the Buddhas. Tarot cards. Incense. Bundled dried sage.

Then I saw the sign. "Shamanistic Readings by Appointment Only."

Holy freaking crap! What was a Shamanistic reading? I had to know. I approached the counter. The woman behind it was about the same age as my mother, with a blond suburban bob and a green sweater set right out of the Land's End catalogue.

"Who's gives the readings?" I asked. I don't know who I was expecting. A straight-backed elderly gentleman from the Cherokee nation? Jim Morrison? An ex-Deadhead who would also try to sell me some peyote?

She smiled at me. "I do."

This was my Shaman.

Turns out Shamanistic readings are kind of a guided, spiritual look inside the psyche. The focus is on answering a question, as in some Tarot readings, but all kinds of stuff comes out because the Shaman is gently coaxing spiritual energies. At least that's how I understood it. Anyway, this woman and I ended up having a great conversation about creativity, aromatherapy, life in general.

I didn't get a reading (Um, Shamans are expensive--even ones that look like they crochet instead of hang out in sweat lodges.) but I learned some things I can file away for that witch book I'm working on AND I scored some medicinal grade peppermint essential oil (great for focus and concentration.) All in all, a success.

There's a part of me that sees these excursions as a waste of time (You could be writing, Miss Flaky-pants, the little voice tells me.) But today I'm going to see them like a Shaman would: opening one's soul to the world.

And what's wrong with that?

A Kick to the Right Side of my Brain

2011-01-03T05:20:00.000-08:00

Happy 2011, everyone!

I am so excited for what this year will bring, and I'm eager to get started on a major project I've been planning for quite some time. BUT I still have to finish up the one I'm working on. Exhaustion is common as one enters the last phases of a book, particularly during the busy holiday season, but I was lucky enough to come across some incredibly inspiring art to keep my mind whirring. Here's a taste...

1. JUST KIDS by Patti Smith. I realize I'm a little late to the party with this one, but--wow--if you were one of those "creative" girls in your late teens/early twenties, with no idea what to do with your creative impulses, this is for you. I loved reading how Patti came into her own and figured out what to do with all the ideas exploding in her head.

2. Bonobo is a pseudonym for the Brit DJ Simon Green. I usually can't write to music, but his hypnotic album, Black Sands, calls forth the words like a snake charmer. I'm obsessed!

3. Expanding my Beta circle. I love my long-term betas, but it's always good to search out new, critical readers. I've been lucky enough to meet some pretty sharp, fantastic people and my writing has truly benefited.

4. Black Swan--It's a Hitchcock/Twilight Zone/YA novel mash-up. LOVED it. I mean, I was totally creeped out, but it's been a while since a movie made me feel anything deeply. So...cool.

5. Comic books. My younger son has been writing his own comics. Watching how his 8 year old brain maps out a story has been a lesson in the art of simplicity.

What's been jumpstarting your creativity? Movies? Art? Music? Tell me!

Reading Recap

2010-12-20T05:01:00.000-08:00

I read like my boys eat--I gulp down so much, so fast, it's impossible to keep track of how much I've consumed. I have no idea how many books I read during 2010. A safe guesstimate would be fifty-two (one a week). Some I liked, some I didn't, but some absolutely stunned me. Here are the titles from that list:

My Best of 2010:

YA

1. THE SKY IS EVERYWHERE by Jandy Nelson
2. DIVERGENT by Veronica Roth (OK, this doesn't come out until May `11, but this one...omg, this one...It will be on your list next year.)
3. THE DUFF by Kody Keplinger
4. GIRL, STOLEN by April Henry
5. THE CLOCKWORK ANGEL by Cassandra Clare
6. THE BODY FINDER by Kimberly Derting
7. FORGET YOU by Jennifer Echols
8. THE DEMON'S COVENANT by Sarah Rees Brennan
9. NOT THAT KIND OF GIRL by Siobhan Vivian
10. CRESCENDO by Becca Fitzpatrick

Adult

1. A RELIABLE WIFE by Robert Goolrick
2. ONE DAY by David Nicholls

Non-Fiction

1. THE CYNICAL IDEALIST: A SPIRITUAL BIOGRAPHY OF JOHN LENNON by Gary Tillery
2. AT HOME: A SHORT HISTORY OF PRIVATE LIFE by Bill Bryson

I'm currently reading two books I'm certain would have made the list if I'd finished before typing this: JUST KIDS by Patti Smith and ANNA AND THE FRENCH KISS by Stephanie Perkins.

Got any titles to add? Disagree with my choices? Tell me!

(I'll be busy finishing up a project over the next two weeks, so this is my last blog post of the year. Happy Holidays to everyone!! Thanks for reading!!)

It's a Wham Christmas!

2010-12-11T19:44:00.000-08:00

Okay, I just have to link to this. I know it was featured on the Glee Christmas episode, but this time Rachel and Finn just don't do it for me.

And come on, don't tell me I'm the only person who sincerely thought she had a chance with George Michael...

A Christmas Story

2010-12-06T10:04:00.000-08:00

In early December 1993, I was living in Astoria, a working class neighborhood at the end of the N subway line in Queens, NY. I took that train home every day from my job writing for a trade magazine, a position I loved, even though it paid next to nothing. Like many other people my age, I lived paycheck to paycheck.

The first Friday of that month I came home from work and wrote out all of my bills. On Saturday morning I confidently tossed them in the mailbox. On Sunday morning, I got around to balancing my checkbook. I'd been careless. Unless I wanted to bounce a check, I had $8 left in my account. I had less than five in my wallet. I'd done some Christmas shopping for my family, and, it embarrasses me to write, my credit card was at its pathetic limit.

At first I didn't panic. I caught a ride with a friend most mornings, and I had a subway pass for evenings. I could eat what was in my pantry. Two weeks wasn't all that long. I'd be fine until payday.

Then I took some inventory. The only edible items in my apartment were a half empty box of Cheerios, a bit of milk, some butter, and a stack of Saltine crackers. I didn't keep much in the house because I was used to eating out. What can I say? I was young.

I ate cereal for dinner that night, and for breakfast the following morning. I bought a slice of pizza for lunch. I had a few dollars left.

If I spent my remaining money on a slice the next day, I'd have nothing. I panicked. I ate Saltines smeared with butter for lunch on Tuesday. I had the same for dinner. I went to bed with a growling stomach, my brain running too hard for sleep.

I could have called my parents. They would have wired some money immediately. But that would have been admitting failure. The worst kind. Do you know how many people said, "If you can make it there, you'll make it anywhere" when I moved to NYC? Too many. They would know I didn't make it. That I didn't have the stuff. Starvation was preferable.

I knew I could hang out at my cousins' over the weekend, and they would feed me. That was something to look forward to. I remember that Thursday we held a staff meeting where bagels and cream cheese were served. I think I ate two and snuck one in my purse. On Friday I endured a long lunch with our ad exec, Charlie, because I knew he would pay. A loud, sexist holdover from those Mad Men years, Charlie believed in drinking his lunch and pinching the waitress's bottom. We went for Indian. I was so grateful I didn't care that the entire restaurant could hear him tell me dirty jokes.

For whatever reason, I couldn't go over to my cousins' on Saturday. I was crazy hungry. I had two dollars.

I went to a Chinese restaurant near my apartment, figuring my credit card check went through and I'd have some room on it for a meal. I ate. The bill came, and I murmured a prayer as I handed over my Visa. When the waitress returned with my card, I knew by her pinched look it had been declined. I promised to return the following Friday to pay my bill. She said that would be fine, as long as I left my driver's license as collateral.

Humiliated, I ran home, tearful and angry. I knew what I had to do. I unplugged my VCR, stuffed the cord in my purse, and hopped on the subway headed for the city. I got out at 42nd Street, found a pawn shop in Times Square (it wasn't the family fun Disneyland it is today), and walked out with 25 dollars.

I went back to the Chinese restaurant and paid my bill. It felt good to slide my license back into my wallet. I went to the grocery store and bought peanut butter, a loaf of bread, some cans of soup.

I made it. The following Friday I stopped at the pawn shop after work and bought back my VCR. I took myself out to dinner. I went to the movies. I fell into a deeply restful sleep.

But I haven't ever forgotten how badly my stomach hurt when there was nothing in it for far too long. I remember the panic, the desperation, the anger, the embarrassment. I remember how much time and energy I had to put into figuring out a way to eat.

I didn't have children then, so I can only imagine what this feels like when you are responsible for people other than yourself. I can barely stand to think about the amount of families going hungry during these horrible economic times.

I doubt many of us are wealthy, but if you have a little extra, please pick up some non perishables next time you're at the supermarket, and drop them off at your local food pantry. If you have no idea where your local facility is, google it. You'd be surprised. Even upscale neighborhoods have them. Or, if your search doesn't bring anything up, shoot me an email and I'll find one for you. Seriously.

Being hungry sucks, but being hungry during the holiday season is its own kind of hell, you know?

Freaky Friday

2010-12-03T11:41:00.000-08:00

Something a little different this week: How not to shop at a major cosmetics retailer (rhymes with Bora-Bora):

1. Don't assume that because your pajamas kind of look like pants no one will notice you're wearing them. The women who work there are capable of noticing a stray brow hair. They will take note. And then they will follow you around asking "Are you sure I can't help you?" until you want to run out of the store. Which is probably their goal.

2. Don't try on the Nars lipstick even though the store is out of alcohol swabs or anything remotely usable for disinfecting makeup. You will spend the next three hours OCD-ing about the Herpes/HIV/Hepatitis/Smallpox/Typhoid you probably caught. And the color will probably suck anyway.

3. Don't, in a fit of nostalgia, spray yourself effusively with Chanel no. 5. It won't smell the same as it did when you were fifteen. Somehow, in the twenty-five years since then, it went from being sexy and sophisticated to smelling like an old lady's closet.

4. Don't allow the Benefit representative to "fill-in" your eyebrows. You will resemble the Russian chick in that Dodgeball movie.

5. You are too old for sparkly eye shadow. Sorry, but it's true.

Um, yeah, I should not be allowed out of the house...

Thankful for Inspiration

2010-11-24T06:20:00.000-08:00

In my literature class, we've been talking about allusions, particularly with poets making reference to artists who came before and paved the way. In part, an allusion allows the writer to acknowledge her influences, to thank a mentor, to show literary genealogy.

I am so proud to write stories for young adults. I wouldn't be doing it, though, if not for these artists, whose influence is lasting and ongoing:

1. Judy Blume: During my middle school years, we spent part of every summer at my grandparents' house, 20 miles from my friends. I always brought a JB book with me--DEENIE and TIGER EYES were my favorites. I fell so completely in love with the stories I didn't notice the loneliness so much.

2. S.E. Hinton: I remember being completely blown away the first time I read THE OUTSIDERS, but TEX is my all time fave. It just felt so real. Reading Hinton was my first lesson in characterization (Paul Zindel, too. PARDON ME, YOU'RE STEPPING ON MY EYEBALL! is a good one).

3. John Irving/William Goldman: OK, technically not YA authors, but these guys taught me about plot, narrative structure, and how to manage reader expectations. In their books, you grow to know the characters so well, but what happens to those characters is constantly a surprise.

4. Sarah Dessen: I picked up a copy of DREAMLAND while I was writing my first YA novel. Dessen tells such a good story you don't notice the impact of the emotional journey until everything comes together in the final pages, and you realize how skillfully she's led you to that point. Her books are always so well structured, allowing the reader to become fully immersed in her heroine's world. (I'd put Meg McCafferty in this category as well--her book SLOPPY FIRSTS is just about perfect.)

5. Susan Isaacs: If you haven't read the book SHINING THROUGH (watching the craptastic movie version doesn't count) then grab your Borders coupon (50% off today!) and buy it! I've read ST four or five times over the past twenty years and I still don't want to put it down while reading. Why? A complex heroine you desperately want to succeed. A love interest that is quite her match. A familiar setting (WWII New York) that turns unfamiliar (Germany in the grip of the Nazis). All of Isaacs books taught me about how to engage a reader on multiple levels, and how to make it all work.

(I'd also like to add a few other YA authors whose artistry continues to inspire: Jandy Nelson, K.L. Going, Simone Elkeles, Jennifer Echols, Kody Keplinger, and Maureen Johnson. Thanks!)

So...how about you guys? Which authors do you give thanks to?

A Personal Review of HP7

2010-11-21T15:54:00.000-08:00

Harry Potter is a large part of the mythology of my children's childhoods. My guys made wands by covering pencils with brown construction paper, played platform 9 3/4 with a toy shopping cart, using every piece of luggage in the house (my walls will never be the same), ran through the backyard, shouting Expelliarmus! Stupefy! but never, ever Avada Ka----- (why risk it?). When my youngest was nine months old I sewed him his first Hogwarts robe. When my oldest was four, he insisted I use my eyeliner to draw a scar over his brow. His preschool teacher spent a few days wondering what it was until she gathered up the courage to ask me.

So this weekend I took my two Potter fans to see part 1 of the last installment of the series. It was thrilling for them, and, um, emotional for me.

There are many tear-worthy moments in the film, but the one that got me all verklempt was at the start (which meant my eyes burned with unshed tears for over two hours). Harry stands in the empty Dursley house, staring into his old room, the cupboard under the stairs. It's empty, except for some left behind items, namely the toy soldiers Harry played with when he thought that the world was a very small place. The cupboard that once seemed cramped now appears absolutely tiny, meant for a mouse. The look on Harry's face was full of meaning. He was mourning his passing youth, yes, but at the same time reflecting on everything that had come to pass. Would he exchange everything that had happened to reclaim that young boy's innocence? The answer was definitely, no.

What would have happened to that little boy, had he not been shaped by the love and friendship of good people? How would he have turned out without mentors to guide him, to tell him his life had meaning?

J.K. Rowling, genius that she is, gives the answer to us in Voldemort. By shirking our responsibility to the young, we risk raising selfish monsters who make the world a very dark place. Friendship and loyalty and integrity are meaningful and lasting, and brighten the world like the tip of Hermione's wand.

The Deathly Hallows illustrates all of these ideas coming full circle. Our Harry has grown up. And so have we.

Freaky Friday

2010-11-19T08:23:00.001-08:00

You guys know what's going on this week, right?

1. HARRY POTTER!! I'm going to bring the kidlings this weekend. We can't wait. Kody Keplinger has a great post today about her love for all that is Weasley. Check it out here.

2. Add my total sleep time for the past two nights and you will still be in the single digits. Why? I was up reading DIVERGENT by Veronica Roth. I'll post a review next year, but let me just say this: find a way to get your hands on an ARC. DIVERGENT is a nail-biter of a thriller, but also a deeply moving coming of age story. It has action, romance, and fantastic world-building, but what spoke to me the most was the surprising gentleness of the love story, given that the setting is so brutal. More later...

3. I'm, um, thinking of running a 5K with my oldest this Sunday. Pray for my knees.

4. Update: my students LOVED Mel Gibson's Hamlet. Now on to the Romantic poets.

5. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Are you guys cooking? Do you get a little creative with the stuffing? I love my mom's recipe (which is actually my paternal grandmother's) but I think I'm going to lobby for cranberries and pecans this year. What do you guys add? Anything interesting?

Have a great weekend!

Freaky Friday

2010-11-12T07:47:00.000-08:00

And so it goes...

1. I'm not cut out for NaNoWriMo. I've spent November editing one project, readying another to pitch to my agent, and writing my current WIP. I have no idea how many words I've written (or deleted). Counting them now just seems...exhausting. I know: I suck.

2. I've got nothing against book packaging companies--some wonderful series have come out of that world--but James Frey's sweatshop mentality creeps me out. Check out the story in New York Magazine.

3. I'm convinced picking paint colors for my house is the hardest thing I'll ever do. I find this task more difficult than writing a novel. Oy! How do decorators do this all the time? It's causing me major stress. Maybe I'll post the color choices and have you guys do the picking?

4. I'm making a lot of my Christmas gifts this year. The aunts are getting knitted washcloths and homemade soap or scarves. Seems more in line with the holiday spirit, no?

5. I'm teaching Hamlet this term (Go ahead. Laugh. But believe it or not I've actually memorized some parts.). My students are really into it, and though we've read the play, I wanted to show them a film version. Well, there are many good ones--how to choose? After much deliberation, I went with the Mel Gibson version. He's really, really good as Hamlet--maybe the whole madness thing came easy for him?

"Though this be madness, yet there is method in`t."

Have a great weekend!

LoNyWriMo

2010-11-02T07:51:00.001-07:00

I'm in.

Not officially (because I've already started my novel), BUT NaNoWriMo here I come.

I'm about 20,000 words in on my latest. I figure it'll finish somewhere between 60 and 70,000, which means I'll write roughly the same amount of words as an official participant.

I've always been a little conflicted about NaNoWriMo. Maybe I'm a little uptight about slapping words on the page to make my daily count. Maybe it feels too much like quality takes a back seat. I'm an "edit as I go" kind of writer. It's hard for me to type without thinking too hard, which is--let's face it--what I'll have to do if I want to get 50,000 more words on paper. But hey, Kerouac wrote ON THE ROAD in three weeks. Of course, he was fueled by benzedrine. I'll be using green tea and fun size candy bars.

I'll post word count occasionally, and I encourage you guys to do so as well. Good luck! I'm definitely going to need it!

Freaky Friday: It's All About Me Edition

2010-10-29T06:31:00.001-07:00

I'm back to work after an eight week sabbatical, I woke this morning to find my car was egged in the night, and the Halloween party I was going to attend on Saturday was cancelled. Stellar morning, yes indeed.

So this installment of Freaky Friday is all about me, me, me. In the face of adversity, I choose narcissism, or something like that...

1. Now that I have nothing to do on Saturday night, I'm going to have a little no-Halloween movies netflix film festival. My choices? Klute (Jane Fonda and Donald Sutherland = perfecto) and A Home at the End of the World (Colin Farrell. Colin Freaking Farrell.) No spooky movies for me. I watched Amityville Horror once and couldn't sleep for three nights because my apartment was 20 miles from the real Amityville. So close! Too close! (Yeah, I'm a wimp.)

2. My friend Alexa, photog extraordinaire, is going to take professional photos of me this weekend. I'll post the results. I've gotten a lot of good tips from friends regarding how-not-to- look-like-a-complete-moron in front of the camera, and Stina Lindenblatt coincidentally posted some tips this week on her blog.

3. I am convinced I can write a decent steampunk novel. OK, more than convinced, I'm obsessed. (I've actually only read one. But I'm a 19th C. history chick and the idea just appeals.)

4. HARRY POTTER is coming. I've already bought my tickets. Is it wrong to think Harry is a hottie now? He's a wee one but so cute. (I almost deleted that...it seems a tad icky, no?)

5. I've got some Borders bucks burning a hole in my pocket. I'm definitely going to buy this, and this. Any other suggestions?

Have a good weekend, everyone! Happy Halloween!

Cold Comfort

2010-10-27T11:14:00.001-07:00

Oooh, Chicago is truly a windy city this week and people are NOT happy. I saw a litany of complaints on twitter (too cold! too rainy! too fallish!) and all I could think was, bring it on! I love cold weather, rainy days, wind whipping against the windows--I love it all (OK, maybe not power outages and moldy leaves, but almost all.)

Maybe I love everything that accompanies inclement weather. Sweaters. Wellies. Movie days. Especially movie days. Sometimes I like nothing better than to curl up on my sofa with a mug of tea, remote in hand, ready to catch some classic on an obscure cable channel--because it's one thing to have a film on DVD and quite another to catch a favorite by luck when scrolling through the guide.

If one of the following pop up on a random rainy Sunday, I stop everything, curl up with a blankie and watch:

1. Four Weddings and a Funeral

2. Pretty in Pink

3. Bridget Jones's Diary

4. Hannah and Her Sisters

5. Charade

How about you guys? What are your comfort movies?

Freaky Friday--Girlcrush Edition

2010-10-22T07:15:00.000-07:00

This week I'm loving the ladies...here goes:

1. Sarah Dessen--You all know about my love of The Dessen. But did you know she has her own book-inspired racecar? It's pink and white and all kinds of gorgeous. Check here for photos.

2. Helena Bonham Carter is my new style icon. I mean LOOK AT HER:

And check out these photos of a dressier HBC, if you can stop drooling over Colin Firth for 10 seconds.

3. Judy Blume & Co. are filming Tiger Eyes!! Right now! In New Mexico! Be still my 12 year old heart!

4. I'm guessing most of you have seen this post by Libba Bray already, but if you haven't, reserve a little time to give it a read. Have Kleenex nearby.

5. I sent my revised second novel off to my beta chicks. Oh, how lucky I am to have them. Thanks gals!

This is the end...well, sort of

2010-10-13T09:50:00.000-07:00

I just finished a (mostly) fantastic YA mystery. The story was compelling, the voice incredible, the plot kept me on my toes. I kept thinking, I am LOVING this! Yay!

Until I got to the end. If one can even call it that. When I was almost done, I could feel the scant pages left and I wondered how in the world the author was going to tie everything up.

I shouldn't have given it a thought, because--I kid you not--the last page read to be continued.

Loose ends were not tied, the threads were simply cut. If I want an explanation, I need to buy the next book. Which, let's face it, I probably will. So, from a marketing perspective, the technique worked.

As a reader, I'm not sure how I feel about this. On one hand, I'm pretty angry. I feel manipulated. On the other hand, I'm intrigued, and still thinking about the book overall.

So what do you guys think? Does the writer have an obligation to the reader to complete the story? Should books in a series stand alone?

Imagine

2010-10-09T05:54:00.000-07:00

RIP Burning Dan

2010-10-07T05:07:00.000-07:00

I never met Dan Gordon-Levitt. Yet, when I heard about his death yesterday, I felt a deep sense of loss. I wrote about Dan on this blog a few months ago. He taught fire dancing and flow arts to everyday folks. He describes how he came to this profession on his web site:

"The first time I saw anyone spin fire, I was transfixed and inspired, but it was so far removed from my vision of myself that it didn't occur to me that I could do it. Subconsciously, I thought that Other Kinds of People do crazy things like that.

Six months later, I went to Burning Man for the first time. I found myself in a supportive, encouraging, inspiring community that helped me break through that myth. I realized that there are no Other Kinds of People. Anybody can do anything. I can do anything. YOU can do anything."

I love this message. In teaching this art to others Dan helped to unleash the creativity within each student. Watch him dance--isn't it easy to imagine the flames as words or music or paint? The process is so freeing.

His life's work made total sense to me.

Being dead at 36 doesn't make any sense at all.

From the Vault

2010-10-05T05:39:00.000-07:00

My husband and I had kind of a schizophrenic honeymoon: we (and by we, I mean our entire wedding party) went to Vegas for him, and San Fransisco (just the two of us) for me, so I could visit City Lights Bookstore (side note: I think this why we've been happily married for 13 years. IMHO, it's more important to find someone who respects your interests than someone who shares them.)

Visiting City Lights was a religious experience. And I don't mean that in a funny or ironic way. I'm not even sure how long I was there. Hours? Days? I do know the hub, after watching me wander the shelves in a semi-hypnotic state, retired to Vesuvio, the bar next door, where he sat on a barstool that could have once held Bukowski's butt, or even Kerouac's. After I sucked up as much of the atmosphere as possible in City Lights, I joined him...

...and capped one of the greatest days of my life by drinking Campari and soda, my newly purchased copy of HOWL on the bar next to me, my new husband on the other side.

It wasn't, however, my first copy of HOWL. I scored that one in the 80s. 50 cents at the Salvation Army. I devoured it, let the words invade my soul (c'mon, I was fifteen) just as I had with ON THE ROAD, a book that's had more influence on me than any other.

Shortly after reading it for the first time, I found out HOWL was the focus of a famous obscenity trial. Lawrence Ferlinghetti, owner of City Lights Bookstore, found himself on trial for daring to offer HOWL to his customers. If the prosecution had won the case, it would have been against the law for anyone to sell Ginsberg's masterpiece.

So what was it about HOWL that could damage my fifteen year old brain? Some sex, particularly references to homosexuality. Some drug references. Um...nothing I hadn't read about already.

What damage could have been done to my person had I not been allowed to read HOWL?

After finding out about the trial, I researched the political climate of the 1950s, independently and in far greater detail than the watered down Joe McCarthy lecture given by my high school poli sci teacher. I studied the House Un-American Activities Committee AND the American Civil Liberties Union (It supported Ferlinghetti.). I read. I learned. About history and art and human nature. This is what we want of our kids, is it not? Knowledge gained by the very desire to learn. To know.

I now teach a 20th Century survey course. We spend significant time on the Beats. I lecture on Ginsberg and Kerouac and Ferlinghetti and Snyder. I'm able to give my students a clear understanding of the time period because I understand it so well. And these kids, who are too young to identify the members of New Kids on the Block, well, they LOVE it.

And to think the book I owe so much to might have been kept from me...well, honestly, that makes me a little sick.

For more info on the HOWL trial, read the fantastic HOWL ON TRIAL: THE BATTLE FOR FREE EXPRESSION. Also, currently in theaters AND on cable (if you have On-Demand viewing) is a cinematic version of the Ginsberg/Ferlinghetti obscenity trial, starring (swoon) James Franco and (double-swoon) Jon Hamm. You can watch the trailer here.

Freaky Friday

2010-10-01T04:56:00.000-07:00

Bits of the random:

1. My brain was too shell-shocked from revisions to write a blog post for Banned Books Week. I didn't want to do a half-assed job, and I still don't, so I'd just like to name some titles of books that were still being banned when I was young enough to have them taken away from me. I read these books during my school years and I don't think I'd be the person (or writer) without them: DEENIE by Judy Blume, THE OUTSIDERS by S.E. Hinton, HUCKLEBERRY FINN by Mark Twain.

2. Once a week my fifth grader takes the a.m. junior high bus for district band practice. He's still young enough to want me to stand at the bus stop with him (yay!). It takes my son a minute or two to settle into his seat (He plays the euphonium), and during that time I stand on the corner while the 7th and 8th graders stare blankly at me. I tried waving once and got nothing. Once in a while we take it up a notch and engage in a highly competitive staring contest, but this week offered an upsetting new development. Two girls gave me the slow once over, coldly assessing my outfit--yoga pants, an olive oil stained sweatshirt and Keen mary-janes so old I've worn through the bottoms--and obviously found me lacking. One pointed, the other laughed, then, mercifully, the bus pulled away. I shouldn't care. I am above that...right? I'm three times (thrice!) their age! But honestly, all that's really going through my head is I need a makeover. Sad, huh?

3. Cool contests: Amy is giving away some gorgeous bookishly decorated wine bottles at Hello, Moon. Nancy, Jo, and Sara over at NC Literary are giving away some awesome books.

4. Sometimes I can't read other books while I'm editing, other times I read like a fiend. With this revision it's been the latter. I've read: CLOCKWORK ANGEL, YOU, RETURN TO PARADISE, and THIS GORGEOUS GAME. For this weekend I picked up PERSONAL DEMONS, which I've heard is great. What are you guys reading? I need more, more more! Feed the addiction!

5. Have you guys been watching the new HBO series, Boardwalk Empire? I've seen the first two shows and I'm not quite sure what I think. I love my Scorcese, but...it's a bit slooooow, isn't it?

Anyhew, have a great weekend!

Something to Look Forward To...

2010-09-29T09:12:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I attended the 7th Annual Anderson's Bookstore YA Literature Conference. Yep. An independent bookstore sponsoring a conference devoted to young adult literature. In other words...heaven.

One of the break-out sessions discussed recent releases and upcoming titles for fall. I was mesmerized. There are some mega-cool books on the shelves right now, and more coming out soon. Here were some of my faves (I'm paraphrasing the descriptions from my notes):

1. ACCOMPLICE by Eireann Corrigan--Two friends, Chloe and Finn, want to make themselves stand out to college admissions boards. Instead of taking an extra SAT prep course or delivering food to the homeless, these two concoct a plan: Chloe will "disappear" into the woods and come stumbling out 11 days later. Finn will lead the search party and make a name for herself as the brave, persistent best friend. Their subsequent fame will make them attractive to choice universities. Easy peasy, right? Well...not so much...

2. VIRGIN TERRITORY by James Lecesne--After his mother dies, Dylan finds himself moving from NYC to Jupiter, Florida. When his life seems to be sinking into a quicksand of depression, Dylan runs into the Virgin Club, a group of kids whose families travel around the country in search of Virgin Mary sightings. They help him see the world a little differently. Uh-huh. You read that right. Virgin Mary sightings. You guys know I love quirky and this one looks pretty darn unique.

3. SOMEBODY EVERYBODY LISTENS TO by Suzanne Supplee--Retta graduates from high school with few prospects. All she wants to do is be a country singer, so she heads off to Nashville in search of a future. Reality is not kind to dreamers, yet Rett manages to do all right...until family circumstances mean she might have to leave and give up everything.

Also of note: LOW RED MOON by Ivy Devlin, FAT VAMPIRE: A NEVER COMING OF AGE STORY by Adam Rex, and ANNEXED, the story of Anne Frank told from Peter's point of view (!) by Sharon Dogar.

* And, for those of you who want some conference gossip: Yes, David Levithan and John Green are as cute and funny as you think they are. Kody Keplinger is adorable in real life, as is Veronica Roth, another of my agent sisters. From certain angles, Claudia Gray resembles Catherine Deneuve. Charles Benoit could earn side cash as a stand up comic and Simone Elkeles seems like the kind of gal you want at your bachelorette party--super fun and quick witted.

Freaky Friday

2010-09-24T02:24:00.000-07:00

Friday's list of randomness:

1. I have a new nephew!! Whoo-hoo! Liam Sebastian. I'm probably a bit biased but I think he's super cute!

2. Maureen Johnson wrote a very interesting post on "boy books" and "girl books" and all that nonsense. It's fantastic. Read it here.

3. This weekend I'm attending the 7th Annual Anderson's Bookstore YA Literary Conference. Kody Keplinger will be there, along with John Green, David Levithan, and a whole bunch of other cool folks. Check back next week for my full report.

4. I'm an allergic sort, which means every spring and fall I suffer from sneezing, wheezing, and yes, eczema, those small patches of dry, itchy skin. I sway towards natural remedies, and eating raw honey has done wonders for the respiratory stuff, but has been unimpressive as a skin salve. I've switched over to Wild Oregano Oil for skin issues and Oh, man! It works so well. The only problem is I now smell like a pizza.

5. Speak Loudly--I've written about censorship before, but I have not yet written a post specifically about Wesley Scroggins' call to ban SPEAK and TWENTY BOY SUMMER. I've read some pretty phenomenal posts (C.J Redwine and Veronica Roth come to mind, as well as essays written by Laurie Halse Anderson and Sarah Ockler, the respective authors of the two books mentioned in Scroggins' complaint.) and I feel if I'm going to add to the conversation I want to add something of value. I'm not quite sure what that is yet.

Well, enjoy this first weekend of fall! Drink cider! Eat something with pumpkin in it! Get ready to plant your garlic!

Internet Tag

2010-09-18T10:19:00.000-07:00

OK, this thing is going around. The blogger is supposed to answer these eight questions, then tag a few other bloggers, and so on, and so on...Well, I tag everyone who reads this--ha!

1. If you could have a superpower, what would you have? Why?

Invisibility. I am seriously the most curious (read: nosy) person in the world. Being invisible would expand my spying capabilities.

2. Who is your style icon?

Faye Dunaway in Bonnie and Clyde. Or Ali McGraw.

3. What is your favorite quote?

"A great thought begins by seeing something differently, with a shift of the mind's eye."

Albert Freaking Einstein. I know, I know. But I'm really not that pretentious; I just really like it. I also have a poster of this hanging in my bathroom.

4. What is the best compliment you've ever received?

Someone once told me I was the most observant person she'd ever met.

5. What playlist/cd is on your iPod/cd player right now?

My "cool chick" playlist. Emiliana Torrini, Madeline Peyroux, Joni Mitchell, Ingrid Michaelson, Feist, and Stevie Nicks.

6. Are you a night owl or a morning person?

Morning person. Totally.

7. Do you prefer dogs or cats?

Dogs. Cats always look at you like, If I were human, I'd kick your ass for the fun of it.

8. What is the meaning behind your blog name?

The Beatles. It always goes back to the Beatles, no?

Let me know if you participated so I can read yours!

Hard Times

2010-09-12T06:43:00.000-07:00

(OK, epic fail on the unplugging thing. I still twittered. I might have facebooked once or twice, and I read a few fabulous blog posts. But I did get over the hump with my latest project, and I feel a lot better about the revision as a whole. So much better that I could actually write something else. Here it is...)

Tara Kelly, author of the fantastic novel HARMONIC FEEDBACK, recently tweeted this: "What I need to see more of in YA: non-white MCs, poor kids, kids who have to work, girls who have curves, girls who don't, gay MCs."

Amen, sister. On all fronts. This blog post, though, will concentrate on the first three.

Our country is in a state of economic transition. Ok, that was probably a bit mild. Our economy is in the shitter and will be for quite some time. I realize that isn't exactly earth-shattering news. We all know people who have lost jobs. Maybe you've lost yours. At the very least the thought of being "let go" is probably swimming laps in your brain, surfacing steadily, rhythmically.

The official unemployment rate is currently 9.6 percent. That figure doesn't include the underemployed, the people who have exhausted their unemployment benefits, the folks who can't take it anymore and have just given up. So the unofficial rate, according to a variety of sources, hovers around 16 percent.

Yes, that's awful. But do you know what the unemployment rate is for young adults (the age group 16-21)? 26.3 percent, according to the Department of Labor. Based on purely anecdotal evidence, I'd say it's much higher for minority teens. Just to give a little perspective, at the height of the Great Depression one out of every four men was out of work. 25 percent.

Teens are not adults. I get that. They aren't chiefly responsible for paying the rent or mortgage, the grocery bill, the utilities. The thing is, though, as more and more adults are losing their jobs, teens are increasingly responsible for helping to keep their families afloat. Some teens have always lived their lives like this. For some, economic instability is a new kind of pain. Add it to the everyday strain of adolescence and you get some stressed out kids.

And that added stress dramatically ups the risk of those kids dropping out of school, suffering abuse, drinking and drugging, making unwise sexual choices, etc. This is their reality.

But back to Tara's tweet. Should we be writing about this? Or better yet, do teens want to read about it?

During the Great Depression, people flocked to the movies for escapist fare--screwball comedies, musicals, stories about cute kids. In contrast, the top selling novels of the era reflected the desperation of the times more accurately: THE GOOD EARTH, THE YEARLING, and Steinbeck's story of the Oklahoma Joads fleeing the Dust Bowl in search of a better life in The GRAPES OF WRATH. (Incidentally, all of these books still show up regularly in high school teachers' lesson plans.)

I think tastes in literature and film in the Great Recession will prove similar to the past. A movie like Grown-Ups takes in 160 million, while Stieg Larsson's stark DRAGON TATTOO series tops the bestseller lists. My explanation for the disconnect is this: sitting in a movie theater is a group experience in entertainment--you laugh/cry/boo with others. A book, even if one reads it on a cold, hard Kindle, is much more intimate. You might be reading in bed. Or at the breakfast table. It feels safer to open a few more emotional doors.

There are a lot of stories grounded in realism out there, waiting to be read. And there is an audience for them, a nation of teens looking for acknowledgment, looking to connect to their reality through literature. Let's make sure they have the opportunity.

Unplugged

2010-09-07T06:56:00.000-07:00

I'm doing it! Talk to you guys after I turn in my latest revision...

Old School

2010-09-02T13:33:00.001-07:00

I have seven weeks left of my eight week sabbatical. Seven weeks in which I'm going to revise one novel and finish another. Uh-huh.

The truth is I LOVE setting unrealistic deadlines. Makes me work harder. And I have been working...just not as hard as I'd like.

To blame? Twitter. Facebook. Obsessive blog reading.

So I'm going old school. For at least a couple of days a week, I'm unplugging for three or four hours. My computer will be a word processing machine, just like in the old days. I might even bring my laptop to our wifi-less library and set up camp.

Think it'll work?

The Dullness of Perfection

2010-08-29T07:44:00.000-07:00

My kids have school pictures this week. I was looking over the various packages, trying to figure out which one gave the most bang for the buck, when I noticed a new option. For a small fee, the photos can be retouched, brushing away blemishes and scars, birthmarks and moles. For a second I was tempted; my little guy has a honking mosquito bite right under his left eye. My fifth grader has something (Is it a zit? Bug bite? Boil?) hanging out at the tip of his chin. If I checked the box, my kids could have faces as smooth as GAP models. Very tempting...

But then I thought about my husband's fourth grade photo. The weekend before picture day he'd gotten into his first (and only) fistfight with his younger brother. Tom walked away with a split lip; his brother rocked a black eye. Those photos look like stills from The Little Rascals. And every time I look at them, I tell myself the story.

When I took my senior photo, my mom talked me into wearing this blue and white cotton sailor dress (??) because according to someone it was all the rage (I suspect she'd been browsing a 1936 Ladies Home Journal at our elderly dentist's office.). I showed up looking like Popeye gone rogue while my classmates all wore black, fake cashmere sweaters and pearls. Flip open to the senior section of our yearbook and you'll see row upon row of Betty Drapers with Bon Jovi hair and frosted lipstick. Then you'll see me. My eyes show embarrassment, humiliation. Something in my smile, though, reveals the faintest hint of defiance, and maybe, if you look closely enough, dignity. I'm proud of that girl, but no, you are not seeing that picture!

I love that my little guy spent every moment he could this summer running around outside with his friends, mosquitoes be damned. I love that my tween is at the start of all those changes guaranteed to wreck havoc with his complexion (among other things!). I want to remember those stories in twenty years; I want to glance at those photos and feel all the things I'm feeling now come back in a rush. I look forward to it.

A Little Bit of Structure

2010-08-23T05:20:00.000-07:00

School starts tomorrow. (Let me take a second to luxuriate in that last statement.)

Ahhhh. OK.

Summer has its merits but it sucks for writing schedules. I don't work well without some structure to my process, and summer, if you're doing it right, is one meandering, destinationless float down a lazy river. I need a designated writing time every day in order to get anything done. One of my heroes, William Goldman, rented an office in Manhattan and furnished it with a desk, a typewriter and a coffee machine. He showed up five days a week and wrote from 8:30 to 5. I wear more hats than he did--mother, wife, teacher, chef, chauffeur, etc., but I LOVE that idea. Writing is your job, so treat it as such.

I'm fortunate enough to have my days pretty much free when the kids are in school. I write in the mornings after dropping them off, sometimes until lunch, sometimes even after. Yes, I've been known to stare at the monitor for three hours, or wander over to Twitter to torture myself with other writers' word count updates (2000 words today! I'll hit 80K tomorrow!), but the whole butt in seat concept actually works. Some words usually come, and yeah, they might get deleted the next day, but they are there, you know?

So how do you guys get the words out? Are you a morning person like me or do you work best late at night? Do you need to write every day? Are you a word count freak? I'm curious!

From the Vault: Material Girl Version

2010-08-17T05:36:00.000-07:00

My confirmation name is Madonna, so as you can imagine I have a soft spot for Madge, even in her current botoxed, "man-arms" state. (So glad the Kabbalah bracelets and pseudo-English accent have fallen to the wayside.) Women my age owe a lot to the Material Girl, more than we probably realize. Female artists especially. M has always approached her music with a combination of intense creativity and steely-eyed focus, and there are more than a few things we can learn from her long career:

1. Commit yourself wholly to a project. Yes, she's a control freak. But every good artist is to a certain extent, no? And she does take advice from people she trusts--look at what came of working with Jellybean Benitez.

2. When in doubt, reinvent.

From this:

To this:

To this:

All in the span of a few years.

3. Don't be afraid to take risks. Remember Madonna rolling around MTV's stage in a wedding gown singing Like a Virgin? Wearing a mega crucifix and making goo-goo eyes at Jesus in Like a Prayer? OMG, remember her SEX book? People stood in line for hours to buy some photos of Madonna hitchhiking in the buff.

4. Help out your fellow artists/Mentor the young. Too bad Brittany didn't have Madonna's force of will and business acumen.

5. Believe in yourself. The girl has not always been on top of her game. The acting. Her shaking hands at the 1990 Oscars. "American Life" sucked. But she takes lowered expectations as a challenge and always finds a way to surprise us.

So Happy Belated Birthday, M! We can't wait to see what you do next.

Freaky Friday: WriteOnCon Edition

2010-08-13T07:08:00.000-07:00

I was crazy-woman busy this week, but not nearly as much as my friends over at WriteOnCon. Did you attend? It was fantastic, no? So much info for writers at every stage in the publishing process.

Here were some of the highlights, for me:

1. Mary Kole's vlog on stereotypes. Really great advice complimented by some incredible Rubik's cube skills.

2. The live chat between Molly O'Neill (HC), Martha Mihalick (Greenwillow), and agent Holly Root. Topic? Myths and misconceptions about publishing.

3. Lisa Schroeder's vlog about romance in YA...and, um, cupcakes. Who doesn't love cupcakes?

4. Martha Mihalick's "Choose Your Own Adventure" guide to the acquisitions process. Clever and informative.

5. The live chat on voice, featuring Anica Rissi (Simon Pulse), and agents Mary Kole, Suzie Townsend, and Joanna Volpe.

There were so many great vlogs and essays--I wish I could list them all. I don't have to, though, because the fine folks at WriteOnCon are establishing an archive on the site. Awesome, right?

Big thanks to the founders of WriteOnCon and to everyone who participated. I look forward to attending next year!

Happy weekend!

Where Am I?

2010-08-10T04:59:00.000-07:00

I'm at WriteOnCon.com! And I'll be there, soaking up advice from a ton of publishing industry professionals, from August 10-12. Go check it out!

Why You Need to Pre-Order THE DUFF

2010-08-06T04:13:00.000-07:00

We take a break from our regularly scheduled Freaky Friday...

My head is spinning with the amazing books coming out in the next few months. MOCKINGJAY and THE CLOCKWORK ANGEL are atop my list, but the book I'm most excited about is THE DUFF by Kody Keplinger*.

"DUFF" is an acronym for Designated Ugly Fat Friend. Uh-huh. In any group of girls there is the one who is "not quite", as in, not quite as popular, not quite as pretty, not quite as fit. To gain the sympathy of the more attractive girls, guys who want to score befriend The Duff.

So a guy gets a hottie and the homely Duff gets a little attention--win/win, right?

Not exactly.

When man-ho Wesley Rush sidles up to "Duffy" Bianca Piper she throws a Coke in his face. Then she, um, kisses him. This is only the start of a very complex, secret relationship, where self-identity and motivation and desire all come into play.

Bianca is an absolutely fascinating character. She's angry. She makes questionable choices. She messes up. But still, I was wishing so hard for her eventual happiness. She made me laugh (often), cry, and sometimes want to throttle her. This girl is feisty, and you'll love her for it.

Wesley is also not your standard two-dimensional romantic interest. Just like Bianca, Wes is not the character equivalent of a shallow kiddie pool, but a guy working through some very real issues. Bianca starts to see the many layers hiding under Wesley's playboy exterior, and, because of Keplinger's skill, it's as surprising to the reader as it is to our heroine.

I finished THE DUFF wishing I had a teenage daughter to share it with. THE DUFF is not a book you finish with a sigh and return to your bookshelf--you'll want to carry it around and talk to your friends about it until the wee hours. We've all felt like the Duff as some point in our lives, have we not? It's this message that elevates THE DUFF from a great teen romance to a classic young adult book of lasting importance.

*Full disclosure: Kody and I share an agent and I think she's a fabulous person. BUT, even if she was a complete stranger I would love, love, love this book. It's really so very good.

From the Vault: Forever...

2010-08-03T04:47:00.000-07:00

Total score this weekend: I was at my local used bookstore and picked up a 1975 copy of FOREVER by Judy Blume for 25 cents. I actually squeed. Yes, the sound I thought I could never quite make burst from my diaphragm and scared the beejezus out of the poor kid behind the counter.

FOREVER was one of those life-changer books for me. In 1982, my progressive 6th grade teacher stuck it in the middle of a pile of more Catholic-school approved books she'd collected for me to read over Christmas break. The title intrigued me so I dug in. For a girl used to Nancy Drew's chaste kisses with her prepster boyfriend Ned, I was blown away. There's sex. Fairly explicit sex. A girl goes on the pill. A guy names his penis Ralph for heaven's sake. I think I read some passages twice (OK, maybe five or six times.), in complete shock. People were allowed to write about this stuff? I was barely allowed to acknowledge sex existed.

Judy Blume wrote about the things we were afraid to ask our parents about. Heck, my friends and I didn't even talk about sex with each other. I didn't necessarily feel more confident after reading FOREVER, but I definitely felt more normal. And, for a 12-year-old girl, that was pretty darn amazing.

So...which book changed your life?

Freak-Out Friday: Forty Fun

2010-07-30T03:54:00.000-07:00

Ok, yeah, I'm freaking forty today. Uh-huh. I was going to write a post boring you with a run-down of my life's greatest hits thus far, or moan and groan about gravity and fine lines, but then I decided...no.

It's a birthday, which means joy and fun and celebration. So on this day of my birth, I'm celebrating you.

I'm so grateful I have people who actually click on this site and read my ramblings. The publishing biz is tough, but I am constantly amazed at how freely my fellow writers offer support. You are all wonderful, interesting, vibrant people, and I want to offer something to thank you for your amazingness.

I wish this list could include a diamond bracelet or an all-inclusive trip to Cancun, but hey, I'm a writer, so my goodie bag is a bit more modest. Here goes:

1. I will be someone's beta-slave. Query? Synopsis? 300,000 word dystopian based on Gone With the Wind? I'm there, red pen in hand.

2. I will give someone a tarot card reading. Online, but still fun.

3. I will attempt to match your personality to a book I have on my very crowded shelves. It might be something obscure; it might be a bestseller. I will then send it to you.

4. I will give free advice, on any topic. I'm actually pretty good at giving advice (notice I didn't say taking).

5. I will say nice things about one lucky reader on facebook and twitter and my blog for an ENTIRE day! Whoo-Hoo!

If you're interested in any of the above mega-gifts, just mention the number in the comments section, or send me an email at lorettanyhan (at) gmail dot com. First come, first served (except for the tarot readings--I could do those all day.)

Happy Weekend! I'm off to drink a gallon of resveratrol!

From the Vault: Moms and Dads

2010-07-27T05:38:00.000-07:00

I've seen a lot of discussion lately about the depiction of parents in YA literature. Most of the opinions I've read are basically complaints: the moms and dads we see (when they're not conveniently dead) are cartoonishly self-centered, and often absent until they're needed to help the plot along by providing a ridiculous obstacle.

The arguments against this either find examples of richly drawn parental figures (Hello, Zarr, Dessen, and Caletti!) or explain that in a YA novel we're seeing the world through a teen's eyes, which would, at the very least, keep the focus on the teenager, not the concerns of her parents.

As a YA writer, I've been giving a lot of thought to this issue. How do I present realistic parents without taking anything away from my teen protags?

I'm a reader, and I usually to search out my answers through reading, but I think a lot of my ideas regarding character development came from television. In the 70s and 80s YA pickings were slim in the library, but television was full of stories about young people AND their parents. I can think of five off the top of my head that focused on teen concerns without skimping on adult character development. And though my examples come from TVland where the characters had at least an entire season to develop, I think if you separated out one episode, you'd still see a rich and realistic depictions of parent-teen relationships. Here goes:

1. Family Ties: Ex-hippies Elyse and Steven Keaton deal with raising (gasp) an uptight Republican son and two daughters, a tween and a teen. The show never falls into the traps you'd think--it's not preachy or dogmatic, but instead richly explores issues still important to teens: sex and pregnancy, drugs, body image, and identity crisis.

2. Good Times: The Evans kids, J.J., Thelma, and Michael, try to manage growing up amidst the violence and economic instability of the Cabrini-Green housing projects. Their parents weren't consistently around, but their presence was always felt.

3. Little House on the Prairie: Half-pint's relationship with her Pa was the heart of this series.

4. Eight is Enough: Seven of the eight were teenagers. The focus was the kids' shenanigans, but Mr. Bradford always seemed like a real--if kind of harried--dad, and Abby, the stepmom, is hardly evil and earns her PhD over the course of the show. Seriously!

5. My So-Called Life...is from the 90s, but is the freaking gold standard for creating richly drawn adult characters in a teen driven series.

I missed a ton, I know. Care to add any to the list?

Freaky Friday

2010-07-23T05:21:00.000-07:00

1. Inception--I have only a vague notion of what this is about, but I haven't seen people this excited about a movie in a long time. I think it's going on my to-do list this weekend. I mean, who can resist Leo, right?

2. Book Clubs: I joined one a while back and it's been an amazing. The ladies of Baby's Got Paperback really put 100% into the experience, and as a result the discussions are smart, thorough, and highly entertaining. And the food is pretty great, too!

3. Friday Night Lights--I have no interest in football whatsoever, but I do love a good one-hour drama. I rented the first season of this show from Netflix on the recommendation of a friend. Do you guys watch?

4. Thank God for camp counselors, those rare people who manage to be cheerful when confronted with incessant whining, killer bugs, and temps in the high 90s. I bow before them.

5. I just got an invite to a screening of Who Does She Think She Is?, a documentary about five female artists who struggle to balance their creative lives with their roles as mothers and wives (We all know how unbalanced it can make us, right?). Check it out if it's playing in your city. Here is a review from the NY Times for the curious.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Check this Out!

2010-07-21T10:42:00.000-07:00

Hey, everyone! Nancy Coffey Literary and Media Representation now has an official web site and blog. Go take a looksy by clicking here.

From the Vault: Netflix Extravaganza

2010-07-20T07:56:00.000-07:00

I'm obsessed with coming-of-age stories. I write them, watch them, teach them. The 1950s offered the best literary coming of age; the 1960s gave us music to reflect that time in our lives. What the 1970s lacked in literary and musical offerings it made up for in cinema. Probably as a reaction to the 60s youth movement, there are a ton of great 70s movies about growing up. Here are some of my favorites:

1. Butterflies are Free (1972) An overprotected blind man moves into his first apartment and makes friends with his giggly, half-dressed hippie neighbor. Guess which role Goldie Hawn plays?

2. Next Stop, Greenwich Village (1976) Paul Mazursky's autobiographical film about a young man finding himself among the artsy, bohemian denizens of Greenwich Village. It's set in the 1950s, but is definitely informed by 70s cynicism.

3. Friends (1971) I've seen this described as Romeo and Juliet meet The Blue Lagoon, but it's so much more than that. Two teens falling into a childish love that has adult consequences.

4. Harold and Maude (1971): If you haven't already seen this there is something very wrong with you.

5. Carrie (1976): Greatest horror movie ever about female adolescence.

So, do you guys have any to add from the 80s? 90s? 00s?

Freaky Friday

2010-07-16T04:35:00.000-07:00

Super random:

1. Things I'm spending my money on: Josie Maran cosmetics (The company is super committed to eco-goodness.), Rowan yarn (I WILL make a kick-arse sweater by fall.), and Picket Fence Pinot Noir (available for a limited time at Trader Joe's.).

2. I'm obsessed with people who can make a living doing something other people would never think to do. Burning Dan is my hero. He's a fire dancer who keeps body and soul together by teaching and performing. Do you think he does children's parties?

3. Movie I'm definitely going to make time to see: The Kids Are All Right. Annette Bening and Julianne Moore in the same movie? Playing a married couple? I'm surprised I haven't seen it already.

4. New goals for the rest of 2010: Complete my third novel, THE FOUR OF US; learn to use my sewing machine; paint my son's room. I figure if I send this list out into cyberspace these things will actually get accomplished.

5. TV is my friend again. Mad Men is back. Weeds, too. And, this man/werewolf is protecting Sookie on True Blood:

Aaaaah-woooo! Happy weekend!

The Passion of the Mel (and Mary)

2010-07-12T05:20:00.000-07:00

The movie Tim was on cable a few weeks back. It's based on Colleen McCullough's touching novel about a mentally challenged man's affair with an older woman. I love McCullough's more famous work, THE THORN BIRDS, but TIM is a gentler, more nuanced book. The movie adaptation succeeds because the acting is so spot-on--Mel Gibson, in his first film role, portrays Tim's disability in such a natural, unaffected way the audience feels compelled to protect him.

I wish I still felt that way about Mel. If you haven't heard it yet and have the interest, laineygossip has an audio of Mel's verbally abusive conversation with his girlfriend/baby mama Oksana. It's absolutely brutal--the man speaking is a racist, misogynistic bully. The insults flow from his mouth with such ease there is little question this wasn't the first time he's levelled that kind of abuse on someone close to him.

It's hard to reconcile that man with the artist who directed Braveheart and The Passion of the Christ, but then, I think the man Mel was then is buried deep under a mountain of empty liquor bottles, if he even still exists at all. The first thing that struck me about the audio was how much he sounded like X, a person I once knew (now deceased) who drank and drank and drank and then spewed venom. Against his family and remaining friends, trying to destroy them with his words. Against himself, who he ended up destroying with whiskey.

People often say getting drunk is no excuse for bad behavior, and only unleashes what was already inside. I agree there is no excuse for violence and brutality, but I do think alcohol erodes not only the stomach lining but the personality as well, rubbing away the good until the alcoholic covers the bare spots with rage and hatred. And there is a difference between someone having a few too many at the office Christmas party and saying something obnoxious to the boss and the slow deterioration of brain and heart and soul that comes with long-term alcoholism. Those personality changes are often severe and irreversible if the drinking doesn't stop.

Coincidentally, I read LIT this weekend, the newest memoir by Mary Karr (author of THE LIAR'S CLUB--great book.). In beautifully poetic language she discusses the ugliest time of her life--her drinking years. It was horrible to read about a wasted, out-of-control mother screaming at her toddler son in the supermarket, a near fatal accident while driving drunk, the constant vomiting and trembling of the DTs. I worried for her, my anxiety slightly assuaged when I turned to the back cover to see a nicely made-up, healthy looking Mary. Whew, I thought, she got through it OK.

I wish the same for Mel Gibson.

Freaky Friday

2010-07-09T04:15:00.000-07:00

How can it possibly be Friday? And July? Oy.

1. The Emmys: Glee scored 19 Emmy nods, Mad Men 17. Whoo-Hoo! I love it when deserving shows are recognized. I do wish Josh Holloway and Elizabeth Mitchell were nominated for their fine work on LOST. Their acting during Juliet's death scene is worth a closetful of trophies.

2. ONE DAY by David Nicholls: OK, I read it almost entirely in one long stretch, it was that good. Until...well...shoot me an email at lorettanyhan (at) gmail.com if you want to discuss. And oh, boy, do I ever want to discuss.

3. Harry Potter Wizarding World: It's officially open to the public. They serve butterbeer. You can walk into Olivander's and your wand picks you! Voldemort couldn't keep me away from this place.

4. Libba Bray on libraries: I have a major girlcrush on this babe. Here is her blog entry about the value of local libraries and what we need to do to save them from sweeping budget cuts.

5. Kombucha: Long-time readers of this blog know about my love of fermented tea. I don't do Red Bull or even coffee, but every so often one needs a bit of motivation to get through the afternoon, no? Kombucha supposedly supports the immune system, energizes the body, and gives the digestive system a dose of probiotics. What's not to love, right? Well, the other day I cruised into Whole Foods to pick some up and the Kombucha display was gone, replaced by a sign stating it had been recalled. I asked the WF dude what was up and he explained--don't you just love how everyone working at Whole Foods loves to engage in conversation?--that the problem was the tea kept fermenting in the bottle after it had left the factory. So the trace amounts of alcohol listed as byproducts of the fermentation process became a lot more than the .05% listed on the label. In other words, I was downing the equivalent of a wine cooler in the middle of the day. No wonder I always felt so good at after-school pick-up!

The Whole Foods dude told me I should just make my own Kombucha in the basement. Um...if any of you know how to do this without blowing up my house, let me know.

Have a good weekend!

From the Vault: Style Edition

2010-07-06T03:23:00.000-07:00

I'm, um, coming up on a BIG birthday. One of those milestones that, according to my cousin's husband, "Make you start thinking you're extremely lucky if you really are at the halfway point."

But seriously, I don't mind aging so much. Sure my hair isn't as lustrous as it once was, it's harder and harder to lose weight, and it only takes a sip of wine to stain my teeth purple (What is up with that?), but those things pale in comparison to what I've gained. (OK, maybe not entirely, but I'm going with it.)

When I was a teen I tried on as many identities as most girls did prom dresses. I had a (thankfully) brief flirtation with jock chic (legwarmers, high top Reeboks, big hair) and preppie (Bass penny loafers and polo shirts with turned up collars). I had a longer affair with Goth. Oh, how I loved pairing Doc Martens with torn black dresses and practicing sullen looks in the mirror. The problem was, I'm kind of a sunny person. I can't help smiling at people. It kind of killed my whole Goth persona AND made me look like an ass in front of the real Goths. My real personality kept seeping through, but I wasn't comfortable enough to accept it. I'm naturally a hippie/gypsy/boho kind of chick. Still, during my last years of college I went through an Audrey in Paris phase (black leggings, ballet slippers, bobbed black hair) and a Marilyn phase (Chanel No. 5, tight dresses and a short curly `do).

I still wear ballet flats almost exclusively, but at nearly (fine I'll say it) forty, I've come to accept that I'll never shop at Hermes, and Doc Martens just make my feet sweat. This is my style, and has been, if I'm honest with myself, for decades:

And...

I love these inspirations, but mostly I follow my instincts. I know myself, and I know my tastes. And that is one of the true benefits of getting older (OK, that AND reduced insurance rates).

So, how about you guys? Do you feel like you've reached the age where you're comfortable in your own skin?

Freaky Friday--Eclipse Version

2010-07-02T05:13:00.001-07:00

OK, I went to the midnight showing on Tuesday, yes I did. Standing in line was awesome--hordes of teenage girls decked out in their Team Edward/Jacob finery, squealing and crying and intensely debating whether or not the headboard banging scene would make it to the final cut of Breaking Dawn (most thought yes, it would). Just standing there was like hormone replacement therapy.

The movie itself? Loved and hated it with equal measure. Here are my reasons:

LOVED (mild spoilers if you've been living under a rock):

1. Jacob and Bella kiss. Since Jacob spent the entire movie running around in Daisy Dukes, you are sooo primed for it to happen. H-O-T. (And, Taylor Lautner is, um, legal now, so I can stop thinking about him as "the kid who played Sharkboy".)

2. Jacob tosses off some seriously funny one-liners. So does Charlie.

3. The producers obviously had more cash for the important stuff. Special effects. Make-up. A decent director.

4. Bree Tanner is introduced. Now I might actually read the novella.

5. Jasper doesn't make me want to laugh hysterically every time he appears onscreen. All the Cullens--Rosalie and Emmett especially--actually have lines, and reasons for being in the film.

What I HATED (Again, spoilers if you haven't read the book):

1. The tent scene didn't exactly live up to my expectations. It was more about Edward and Jacob, than the, um, heat in that sleeping bag. Roger Ebert called it the "Brokeback Mountain scene", which is right on.

2. Bella's perpetual case of blue-balls. Sorry, there is no more applicable term. Edward is saving her soul by refusing to have sex with her? So the end result of asking for what she wants in the relationship is losing her very essence. Ugh. Double-ugh.

3. The ring looks like this cubic zirconia mess my mom bought with her 30% off Kohl's coupon a few years back. They couldn't do better?

4. When did Anna Kendricks become the most annoying person in the series? In a movie full of annoying actors, this is an accomplishment.

5. Bryce Dallas Howard was a poor choice for Victoria. She just looks too nice--definitely her father's daughter. It weakened the action scenes considerably.

I'd love to hear what you guys thought! Did you love or hate?

Sex, Drugs, and Goodreads

2010-06-30T17:12:00.000-07:00

I've noticed a disturbing trend in Goodreads reviews: people are giving one or two stars to YA books because they include instances of teen sex (and sometimes drinking and/or drug use). Reviewers often complain that a book provides poor role models, is immoral and offensive, or simply is not reflective of modern teen life.

When I read these reviews I want to type in the comment box, do you actually know any teens? According to the National Survey of Family Growth (sponsored in part by the CDC), 42% of teen girls and 43% of teen boys are sexually active. Contrary to the myth that teens are having a lot less sex, these numbers have remained steady for the past ten years.

The adults posting these reviews know this. Maybe their teen isn't having sex, which is well and good, and let's face it, preferable. But there are millions of other teens who have decided to do the deed, often quite responsibly--is it so hard to admit a novel may be reflective of that reality? And, that it may have value as a work of art because it does?

Now, I should cut the teens writing these reviews some slack. And I will. Because the more I read them the more I lose faith in our school systems, not our young people.

Increasingly, these reviews contain no mention of character, plot, or even a gut-reaction like or dislike. The sole reason for giving a book a low rating is the inclusion of sex. Judging a novel on that basis illustrates a definite lack of critical thinking skills. Expecting novels to only reflect your system of values is expecting them to cease to be art.

Good art has always challenged, provoked, reinforced, reflected. Good art investigates what it means to be human. This is something one used to learn in high school. But (sweeping generalization alert) it seems we're focused on training kids to only search out what art means to them personally. There is a place for that response, but there is also a price for using it as the only evaluative tool. We're not teaching our kids to look for a book's impact on society or to appreciate an author's skill. We're not showing them that though a book may infuriate, it may also instruct. We ask, how do you feel about this? and leave it at that.

This is a type of close-mindedness. It creates narrow thinking, a terrible trait to develop as our kids face the challenges ahead.

New Yaaawwwk!

2010-06-28T05:20:00.000-07:00

Just got back from THE BEST CITY IN THE WORLD. Once upon a time I was a Manhattanite, but as I was reminded (What? No subway tokens? Is there really a GAP on every block or am I just imagining it?) that was a loooong time ago.

But that's why I heart New York. It's always in flux, always changing. But then, so am I.

The last time I visited I was not writing and wouldn't for years to come. Fear kept me from pounding out beyond a few pages. What if I sucked? Then I would not be able to dream that particular dream and at least one ventricle of my heart would shut down. I couldn't take the risk. No way.

But then, I did. I'm not sure why. Maybe for the same reason I drove to NYC at 22 with no job, no home, no connections. Something compelled me. I HAD to. That's really the only reason.

So this visit was different. I came up from the Lincoln Tunnel and took a great big gulp of New York air. I met with Jo, my fabulous agent, and we talked about books and writing and publishing. She took me to The Strand (church for writers) and then to the Nancy Coffey/Fine Print offices (Yeah, I almost stopped breathing when I met Nancy).

On the way back to my hotel I wanted to cry on my cabbie's shoulder. I felt legit. I felt like my dreams might really come true. I felt like a writer.

And that's the best souvenir ever.

I'm Type Eric

2010-06-15T17:35:00.001-07:00

Entertainment Weekly contains a great article about how the most compelling stories are found on television, not at your local multi-plex. I totally agree. I haven't actually sat in a movie theater since taking my kids to see Alvin and the Chipmunks 2--The Squeakquel. (I know, but come on, it was my little guy's birthday!). Television has experienced a golden age, probably since the premium channels have come into their own, HBO and Showtime in particular.

I didn't watch much TV as a kid, don't watch much now (comparatively), but here are some shows I get really, really excited for:

1. True Blood. Yes, we're on vamp overload, but this series is adult entertainment of the best kind--sex with a sense of humor, real jump out of your seat scares, and, um, him...

2. Mad Men. Complex characters doing morally ambiguous things on sets so historically accurate, even the toilet paper is vintage. I can't wait for this to start up again in July on AMC.

3. GLEE. Music. Teens. Drama. Sue Sylvester. I hope next season they have an Elton John/Billy Joel episode. That would be my dream.

4. Weeds. When this show started up about five years ago, I thought the premise was cute. Newly widowed suburban mom selling pot to keep up her Real Housewife of San Diego lifestyle. This show is anything but cute, in fact it's seriously disturbed. In the best possible way.

5. Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations. This has become a travel channel staple, but Anthony has not been mellowed by the passing of time. His humor is as acidic as the "gravy" on a plate of mostaccioli.

So what did I miss?

Online KidLit Conference? I'm In!

2010-06-14T05:00:00.000-07:00

Some of the biggest names in the YA Lit world--writers, editors, agents, bloggers--are conducting an online writer's conference on August 10-12. It's FREE. Yep, free. And you don't have to find a babysitter or money for a flight or the will to change out of your pajamas because it's all ONLINE. Registration starts July 1. Click here for more info!

Freaky Friday

2010-06-11T05:45:00.000-07:00

How can it possibly be Friday already? Oy.

1. Blackhawks win!!! I was driving home from work when the Hawks won in overtime. By the time I pulled up to my house the entire neighborhood was cheering. I mean, it was LOUD. Then the fireworks started. So awesome.

2. True Blood starts up again this Sunday. From HBO's teasers I think we're going to get to see a lot of Eric Northman. Whoo-hoo!

3. What constitutes badass for me: eating triple fudge brownies for breakfast. Um...yeah.

4. My son's running class teacher called yesterday to tell me he thinks I've got myself a talented track and fielder. Why is this a big deal? I am the girl who faked horrific cramps to get out of running the fifty yard dash in high school; when we ran the mile I groaned so loudly the nuns almost carted me off to the hospital. I must have had 27 periods during freshman year alone. One of the great feelings in life is when my kids excel at stuff I suck at. Feels like I did something right.

5. Words I like today: medley, farcical, perusal, lumbago, and indefatigable. How about you guys?

Have a great weekend!

RHONJ and Writing

2010-06-09T04:58:00.000-07:00

I love my Real Housewives (except Orange County--eww). The New York ladies sucked me in their drama the past few months: Bethenny and Jill's disintegrating relationship, Kelly's wackadoo antics, Alex's hives, Ramona's harmless self absorption, and Sonja--oh, man--the aging Holly Golightly is my new fave.

Contrarily, the New Jersey housewives have been a disappointment. Carolyn, Dina, Jacqueline, and Teresa seem like the same person with subtle variations. They dress the same (Sopranos-Lite), live in the same McMansions, chant the same mantra ("Family, Family, Family"), and groove on their hatred of Danielle. And what is our villain's motivation? To force a friendship with these clannish ladies? No matter how crazy Danielle is, the reality is four against one, and an unfair fight is a boring one.

The drama in RHONJ is forced at best. But what were the producers to do with four inherently uninteresting women and one seriously deranged ex-con?

There is a lesson here for writers. I often read books where plot is king and the characters seem just pieces on a checkerboard, moved here and there without much thought or definition. If the characters' personalities and desires are not well-drawn, it's definitely harder to let the drama unfold organically.

These ladies are primo examples of true characters:

(PS--I heard Bravo is thinking about doing The Real Housewives of Chicago. Think I should apply?)

From the Vault

2010-06-08T03:04:00.000-07:00

My husband is going to see the poor man's Dead this weekend, otherwise known as Phish. Feel free to make fun of him in the comment box, as I haven't done nearly enough teasing the past few days.

I was a deadhead in college. Not totally. I mean, I still went to college, and pretty much stayed in one place, but I never cut my hair and wore too much tie-dye and stacked those colorful woven bracelets on my arms. I hung out in the parking lots before and after all the Chicago area shows, thankfully (miraculously) staying out of major trouble. I was at Jerry Garcia's final show in `95, and that was...it. I still listen to the music when I'm stressed, but that phase of my life was definitely for a younger me.

I started going to the shows in high school, when it had only been 20 years since Woodstock. I often wonder how those experiences shaped my teenage life. My parents were mega-strict, and hanging out with people whose goals for the day were making baba ghanoush and God's eyes felt pretty good. I didn't think about the future much, and, besides my super low paying job at a local bakery, my responsibilities were nil. I had the time to explore and think and daydream and yes, experiment.

The teens I know today would think I wasted my time. They get up at 5 am and head to football practice or yoga or band. They stay after school to squeeze in a weightlifting session or to tutor a struggling student. They come home and stay up until midnight completing their own homework. Weekends are spent playing organized sports, hanging out with their families, or attending an aggressively chaperoned school dance. Sometimes I feel like they are more mature than I am. I know they have better discipline.

What does this mean when it comes to writing about about these young adults? I haven't figured it out yet. I'm definitely mindful as I build my characters. This is definitely a more responsible generation, do you agree?

Freaky Friday

2010-06-04T09:24:00.000-07:00

It's the end of the week already??? Here goes:

1. Deception by Lee Nichols is the best ghost story I've read in a long while, and one of the best YA books I've read all year. Why the love? The heroine, Emma Vaile, is funny, smart, and so relatable. Often in YA paranormals the leads are just a step above cardboard cut-outs, but Emma was so real and well-drawn I kept reading way past my bedtime, wondering, what's she going to do next?

2. As is well documented on this blog I have gray hair that I do not cover. Yep. Not forty yet and I have huge streaks of gray one of my students very kindly called "Mrs. Robinson-esque" last night (I suspect she's insuring her A this term). I have an appointment with my hair chick tomorrow. And I'm tempted to cover it all up with this color:

Yes, I know that's Diane Lane and this photo illustrates a whole lot of wishful thinking on my part. But look at that color...do you like it? I probably won't make the decision until I sit in the chair.

3. I love our local pool. It was built in 1959 and hasn't been changed much since. It's got a snack shack and old school chaise lounge chairs, and could double for a Mad Men set. The adults are allowed to bring cocktails and the sound of a martini shaker often drowns out the hum of dragonflies. I always half expect Betty Draper to walk by me in her yellow bikini.

4. It's June. How the eff did that happen?

5. My lemon balm plants have grown seriously out of control. I know I could make tea out of it (good for the metabolism, so they say) but what else can I do? Any ideas?

Enjoy the weekend!

From the Vault

2010-06-01T03:27:00.000-07:00

I'm going to visit New York City in a few weeks and I am beyond excited. I lived there once upon a time, at 55th and 8th and, though I love Chicago dearly, there is no better city in the world.

So, in honor of my upcoming vacation, I'm going to have a little online film festival of my favorite New York movies. Here goes:

1. Annie Hall: La-De-Da, La-De-Da...That says it all, no?

2. Breakfast at Tiffany's: Audrey, Moon River, no-name cat...what more could a girl want, daaarling?

3. Working Girl: "I have a head for business, and a bod for sin." Actually I have a head for writing and a bod from sitting at my computer all day, but I can dream, right? And Harrison Ford is just so dashing in this one...

4. The Way We Were: OK, I think I'd beat Carrie Bradshaw in a Streisand-Redford obsession competition.

5. The Seven Year Itch: I once stood over a subway grate wearing a babydoll dress. Train shot by, dress went up. In front of a priest. I think my face is still red from that one.

Do you guys have any New York faves? Do tell!

Just Words

2010-05-27T05:32:00.000-07:00

As a writer I'm hyperaware of the power of words. Even one word, carefully chosen, can elevate or destroy, inspire passion, evoke hate, crush a soul.

I have a ten-year old boy. He's a nice kid, but even nice kids (sometimes especially nice kids) have to come up with a way to protect themselves from the harsh world of the playground. Words are becoming his weapons of defense. They aren't curse words, but they are hurtful--retard, moron, idiot. I correct him. I get angry. I try to think of creative ways to show the damage these words can cause. Just when I think he gets it, I hear a group of his friends talking while playing hockey. "That's so gay," one of them says. The rest laugh. I realize I'm fighting a battle I'll probably lose.

This issue was tackled so effectively on the show Glee this week. The father of the gay character defended his son after another boy used the word "faggy." The boy didn't mean the harm the word caused, and was shocked by the father's reaction. In an incredibly moving speech, the dad effectively explained the pain, the cumulative pain of a word often used so casually. I went back and forth on whether or not to show this to my son, and ultimately didn't because he'd be watching it out of context.

I guess my job is to connect these words to the pain they cause. The lady down the block has a son with Down's syndrome. We wave hello in the morning on our walk to school. Should ask my son if he'd call this man a retard? My husband's cousin brings his partner to family parties. Would it be appropriate to use the word fag? To call out someone for being "so gay" in front of Jon and Ed?

This seems a little mean, I know. He's ten. But then he's eleven, and then comes junior high and high school where the words (and the cruelty) become much, much worse.

Many of you have kids. Any ideas on how to handle this? I welcome your words of advice!

Oh, LOST.

2010-05-24T04:52:00.000-07:00

I need to watch it again. And I'm not that smart when it comes to this stuff. And I watched through the haze of a migraine...OK, enough excuses, here's what I thought...

I don't see the ending as a cop-out at all. If Jack had woken up in Kate's arms with little freaky Aaron toddling about, now that would have sucked. What I saw last night was a daring commentary on time, life/death, and the power of love. I have way more questions than answers, but I'd rather focus on the conclusion, because I think there actually was one.

Time is fluid and bendable and not linear. What happened on the Island actually happened, whether you think the losties were dead or alive when the events occurred. We know our losties weren't in the light, so they hadn't let go of things like anger and fear and revenge (before Locke goes into the church, he "forgives" Ben, and Ben's reaction reinforces this). Was the island actually purgatory, as people have predicted from the start of the series? No, because heaven and hell and earth exist in time, in all time, and not as actual places but as a part of the total life experience of every human being (which is why Jacob and Richard are so happy to be re-entered into natural life--in protecting the light they are robbed of ever participating--which is why Hurley is in the church at the end--he changed the rules).

What is this light? When Jack enters the vestibule, he sees symbols of a variety of faiths, but ultimately what is in that church is about love and basic connections in our lives that bring love to the world. This sounds cheesy, I know. But it isn't. Not when the show spent six years basically showing us the redemptive power of love.

I think this is beautiful.

But I still have questions...

Freaky Friday

2010-05-21T05:01:00.000-07:00

Random bits of randomness:

1. Lost season finale. Goodbye, Sawyer. And all those other people.

2. Crown Vics: I'm seeing these guys tonight. What should I wear? I think flowers should be involved. In my hair? Cleavage?

3. Alexa's Etsy shop. My friend Alexa opened a cute vintage shop on Etsy. Stop by and have a look!

4. According to my 7 year old, my new name is Bergen Lergen Irgen Shwergen. Maybe I'll take it as a pen name. I could write Swedish mysteries. How does The Girl with the Lingonberry Tattoo sound?

5. Big controversy last week? Gay guys playing straight. Newsweek published an interesting article insinuating male gay actors shouldn't play hetero characters. Understandably, people freaked, because the logical assumption from Ramin Setoodah's article is straight men can bury their sexuality to play gay men, but the opposite is rarely true. I'm not sure if that's exactly what's being said, but I do disagree with one of the examples the article uses: Jonathan Groff on Glee. Openly gay Jonathan plays Jesse St. James (Um...yeah), Rachel's mildly hetero boyfriend and former rival. Setoodah calls Groff "distracting" because of his "theater queen" posturing. Um, I strongly disagree. Jesse St. James replaced Puck in my heart after this very sex-ay dance number with Rachel. The video is crap--Fox cracks down on such things--but tell me you don't get all tingly watching these two. What do you guys think?

Have a great weekend!

Method Writing

2010-05-20T08:34:00.001-07:00

Supposedly Daniel Day Lewis is a total method actor, immersing himself so fully in his roles he'll only answer to his character name, even if it's his wife calling. (Wonder how much fun she had when he was working on Gangs of New York.) Method acting always seemed a bit extreme to me, until now. Because I'm experiencing method writing. Uh-huh.

Right now I'm going through my second novel trying to make sure my current MC (Roisin)sounds nothing like the MC from my first novel (Trudie). I had a hard time shaking Trudie--she's funny and sarcastic and full of sass. I was a lot more fun to be around when writing about her world. Roisin is introverted and contemplative--and about halfway through writing this second novel all I wanted to do was hole up in my bedroom and ignore the world. I can see the point where Roisin seeped in; at around Chapter 15 she lost any trace of Trudie-ness.

Does this happen to you guys? Do you adopt the traits of the characters you've grown so close to? Or am I creeping you out?

Soon I'll leave Roisin and head into my new novel, told from four perspectives--2 male, 2 female. And it's about sex. So for four to six months will I be schizo? And a perv? Hmmm...

From the Vault

2010-05-18T04:25:00.000-07:00

I'm totally living vicariously through Kody Keplinger, who recently blogged about her plans to spend the summer living and working in NYC. She'll be working hard, but I've already romanticized her experience, probably because I spent my summer after freshman year earning minimum wage in a dusty old film library in rural Illinois, lonely, poor, and BORED.

I wanted to be a writer, but didn't know how to go about actually becoming one. The whole "butt-in-seat" concept was a little beyond me, so instead of writing I decided to do some reading. Our university's library reflected its strong drama department and housed rows and rows of plays. My plan was this: I'd choose a letter of the alphabet and read every playwright in it. I wanted to learn to write good dialogue, and figured this was the best way.

I randomly selected the letter S. Perfect, I thought. Shakespeare, Strindberg...uh...Simon. Yeah, I started my great reading experience with Simon, Neil. I read 15 of his plays that summer, and never got to Macbeth or Miss Julie.

From those plays, not-so-funny me learned how to be funny on the page. I learned rhythm. I learned timing. I learned so much about language and how to make words do what you want them to. It was an education, and Neil Simon taught me more than any professor in my subsequent creative writing courses.

I loved every play that man wrote, but I did have my favorites. They were:

1. Barefoot in the Park (Recently on Broadway starring Amanda Peet.)

2. The Odd Couple

3. Simon's autobiographical trilogy: Brighton Beach Memoirs, Biloxi Blues, Lost in Yonkers

Check out your local theater--chances are you'll find one of Neil Simon's plays being produced. Or add the film versions to your netflix queue. Not only are Robert Redford and Jane Fonda hilarious in Barefoot in the Park, but the fashions are to die for! Enjoy!

My sista

2010-05-17T05:29:00.000-07:00

Happiest of birthdays to my sister, Joyce. It feels odd to type her name because I haven't called her anything but "dork" in twenty-five years. And she calls me "freakshow."

I don't know how people without sisters survive. She's my psychiatrist, fashion consultant, emergency babysitter, health advisor...and best friend.

I recently had the great pleasure of watching my sister walk across a stage and receive her degree from one of the most prestigious nursing schools in the country. Summa cum laude. Uh-huh. When the Dean handed her the diploma, I thought, this girl has no idea how fantastic she is. So I'm telling her now.

Hey, dork. You rule. And are awesome. Happy birthday!

Love, Freakshow

Freaky Friday

2010-05-14T05:15:00.000-07:00

Here goes:

1. So I'm driving home from work last night at around midnight, barely able to prop my eyes open, and all of a sudden this woman on the radio is singing, I'm a cougar, you're a cougar, too! Raaawwr! Cougarlife.com is "The premiere online dating service that pairs women in their prime with younger men and ends the double standard." Wha? Should I feel empowered (I am cougar, hear me roar!) or skeezed out? I'm going with the skeeze. Ewww...

2. Book rec: Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver. I've got to admit I didn't like it at first, and I wondered how I was going to tell the person who gave it to me that it just wasn't my thing. I stuck with it, though, and by around 100 pages in I knew there was no way I was putting it down. This is a really great novel, folks; it's surprisingly deep and philosophical. Run to your local bookstore. Seriously.

3. I need squee lessons. Not that I have anything in particular to squee about at the moment, but if I did, I'd flounder in squee-less silence. I'm just not a person who makes noise. I don't scream at concerts or cheer at sporting events and, though I'm a teacher and can project when I have to, people are always asking me to speak up IRL. Is a squee a yelp? A high-pitched scream? I have no idea. Guess I'll have to ask Lisa and Laura.

4. Mother Nature is ticked at me for my utter lameness. I have not turned over my garden yet. I know. I am zone five, so I can still get my plants in, but lame, lame, lame.

5. My friend K.V. is stuck in the hospital on this gorgeous day. That totally sucks, K. I'll have to bring you some Dove dark and National Enquirers to pass the time. Hope you're on the mend!

Have a fantabulous weekend, everyone!

From the Vault

2010-05-11T05:14:00.000-07:00

Most of us know Buddy Holly from that Weezer song (Oooh-weee-Oooh, I look just like Buddy Holly...) or as the inspiration for The Day the Music Died, the end-of-the-night song college bars played when they wanted us to get the hell out. My mom works for a store that sells costumes at Halloween and Buddy Holly glasses are filed under "nerdwear." Here's a shot of Buddy without his glasses:

This doesn't scream nerdy to me. And neither does his music. Listen to some. It's sexy and modern and lyrically perfect. Try Well...All Right, an ode to the dawning confidence of the young. Or the tale of a woman who can't walk away (or the man whose ego can't imagine she will), That'll Be the Day . How about listening to a snippet of Maybe, Baby--hear something familiar? According to Paul McCartney, Holly was the primary influence on the Beatles during the early years. In fact, besides being a play on words (beat-less), "The Beatles" was a slightly amended version of "The Crickets," the name of Buddy Holly's band. Click here to watch Paul sing his version of Peggy Sue. Now tell me Holly's music isn't sexy.

Buddy Holly died in a plane crash in 1959 at twenty-freaking-two. Yep, 22. Just six months before his death, he fell in love with a record company receptionist. Buddy proposed to Maria Elena the day they met, married her two months later, and composed this song to celebrate, recorded in her presence. Enjoy.

The Dessen!

2010-05-10T08:13:00.000-07:00

As reported in Persnickety Snark, and confirmed via Twitter by Sarah Dessen herself:

From Publisher's Weekly:

Deals: Week of 5/10/10: "Hayes Buys ‘Cut and Run’
Agent Leigh Feldman, of Darhansoff, Verrill, Feldman, sold a new YA novel by Sarah Dessen to Viking Children’s Books. Regina Hayes bought world rights to Cut and Run, about a high school senior who, after her parents’ divorce, has taken up the practice of assuming a new identity in each of the four towns she’s lived in. Dessen, according to Penguin, has sold more than four million copies of her nine previous titles, which include the New York Times bestsellers Along for the Ride and Lock & Key. Cut and Run is scheduled for May 2011."

Anyone who reads this blog knows how much I love Sarah Dessen's work. All of her books are deeply heartfelt coming of age stories, but this title looks like Dessen's return to some darker material, which is exciting. Like Elizabeth Scott and Deb Caletti, Sarah Dessen is quite gifted at creating realistic, relatable characters and I can't wait to see what she does with this fabulous idea.

(BTW, If you aren't reading Persnickety Snark on a regular basis, then you are really missing out. Adele over at PS interviews great writers, writes honest book reviews, and offers a unique take on YA in general. Check her out!)

Freaky Friday

2010-05-08T05:58:00.000-07:00

OK, technically it's Saturday, but life got in the way...

1. I took the plunge last week and bought a Macbook Pro. Then I went a leeetle bit crazy and installed Scrivener. BEST DECISION EVER. Suddenly I'm organized. No more post-its flying all over my bedroom, no more trying to decipher restaurant napkins with hastily scribbled notes--I can type them onto the corkboard. At least in theory. I'm still learning.

2. This week's episode of the Real Housewives of NYC put the "reality" in reality television. During a particularly nasty exchange Alex tells Jill, and I don't know if I'll get this exactly right, "I live in Brooklyn, and I'm trying to get by in this horrible economy!" Good for you, Alex. In Jill's world giving a $4,000 never-worn designer dress to a homeless charity makes one a good person. Jill's delusions are epic.

3. True Blood minisodes. So fun. This is HBO marketing expertise at its best. Click here for Eric and here for Jessica.

4. My To-Be-Read pile is stellar. The Carrie Diaries, Before I Fall, Will Grayson, Will Grayson, and the 10th Sookie Stackhouse book. This should keep me happy until June!

5. Last, but definitely not least, happiest of Mother's Days to all the mamas!

All the Young Dudes

2010-05-05T17:43:00.000-07:00

I've written a bunch of chapters for my third book, though I'm still putting the finishing touches on my second. I know, I know, not too smart, but sometimes characters just won't shut up and a person just has to get writing.

My third novel is a story told from--OMG, what the hell am I thinking--four different perspectives. I've got three of the voices down, but the fourth is really kicking my derriere. Kevin is a really guyish guy--the kind of guy I never hung around with in high school, the kind of guy who wouldn't have wanted to hang with me if I asked. He's not a jerk, just so different from me, and I didn't want to fall into the trap of making a 17 year old boy sound like a thirty-something woman masquerading as one.

So what does a writer do when she's having a little trouble? She reads. A lot. And I've had the pleasure of reading these great narratives told--very realistically--from a teenage guy's point of view:

The Secret Year by Jennifer Hubbard
Destroy All Cars by Blake Nelson
The Spectacular Now by Tim Tharp
King of the Screw-Ups by K. L. Going
Anything by John Green

Got any to add? I need all inspiration I can get...

From the Vault

2010-05-04T04:55:00.001-07:00

(OK, in an effort to give this blog a little rhythm and consistency, I've decided every Tuesday will be a "From the Vault" day, that is, a short essay on a movie, book, song, etc., from the past that has continuing influence. Some of the stuff will be pretty old, as in, before most of us found our way to this planet.)

I learned yesterday that Lynn Redgrave* died. She wasn't as famous as some of the other people in her family, or as outspoken, but Lynn's work was wonderful, particularly in Georgy Girl (1966).

Plain, sloppily dressed Georgy is what my mom would rather impolitely refer to as big-boned. She lives in a flat in swinging London, which actually is still working class drab, though you do kind of expect John, Paul, George, and Ringo to careen around a corner with a pack of girls in hot pursuit. Her roommate is the stylish Meredith, who happens to be pregnant by her boyfriend, Jos.

Georgy is the perpetual third wheel who suddenly gets the boy, then finds she really doesn't need the boy, thank you very much. And whether you read this as early feminism or Georgy's inability to form a relationship, it's interesting, and mildly shocking, and definitely stays with you.

Check out this trailer for the movie to get a feel for what Georgy is all about.

I love that there are book clubs popping up all over, but I think movie clubs are just as fun. Georgy Girl is one of those films you could talk to your girlfriends about for hours. Check it out!

*Lynn lost her job on the television series House Calls because, a breast-feeding mom at the time, she was fired when she brought her child to the set. Lynn sued and lost, but this makes her instantly cool in my book.

The Professionals

2010-04-28T04:42:00.000-07:00

In Huffington Post today, Sarah McCarry decries the cult of niceness among the almost exclusively female YA bloggers.* She's disturbed in particular by the lack of teeth in book reviews; according to McCarry, YA reviews and resulting commentary are simply group hugs in disguise. She believes this ultimately perpetuates gender stereotypes and robs YA writers (again, mostly female) of a chance to be seen as worthy of serious critical study.

I will agree with her that it is difficult to find YA book reviews equal to the lengthy, insightful criticism commonly given to adult books. I also agree with her take on what criticism should be: "But the role of the critic is not to make people feel good, to distribute hugs and goodwill all around; it is to contextualize and examine the role of a particular book, to evaluate its success as a work of art, to demand of both author and reader a sense of accountability, and to hopefully open up a conversation."

Yes, this is exactly the job of the critic, but is it the job of the blogger?

The community of YA writers and bloggers is so incredibly supportive. I strongly believe this helps keep the YA category in the black while most genres dip red in these trying economic times. Financial success is important and will keep quality young adult literature on the shelves at your local bookstore. The blogging world IS responsible, in part, for keeping YA literature in the public eye and this benefits everyone. I don't see anything wrong with that, as the mainstream media often ignores the genre.

This is not to say YA should be exempt from real criticism. (This is one reason Kirkus is so vitally important.) Serious criticism of YA lit will only further elevate the category, and legitimatize some very worthy writers in the eyes of the literary establishment.

Bloggers, though, are not bound to the same rules as critics. We can cheerlead; we can promote; we can gush. What we can't do, however, is call this criticism. There is absolutely nothing wrong with copying and pasting a novel's jacket copy and then writing a line or two stating how much you liked the book. This is not review, however, it is a recommendation, and should be labeled as such.

In the YA world, bloggers are a consistent and powerful force. Yes, we are mostly female, and mostly subscribe to the "catch more flies with honey" philosophy, but I dare you to scour the blogosphere and find a group of people more devoted to sustaining the health of a single genre. Serious criticism has never been the goal (which isn't to say it wouldn't be wonderful if more objective, experienced critics started blogging with this sole purpose), but celebration has, and, in YA, it seems there's more and more to celebrate every day.

What do you guys think?

*Thanks to author Lee Nichols for the link.

Happy Earth Day!

2010-04-22T05:19:00.001-07:00

Stop sitting in front of a computer monitor and go outside. Plant something. Anything at all!

Smell the air, marvel at the blueness of our sky, lie on the ground and watch the clouds.

Try not to be wasteful. Reuse what you have and recycle what you can no longer make use of. Try to eat food grown by people you have met. Ride your bike. Walk. Live simply.

And, finally, two of my favorite quotes:

"I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars." Walt Whitman

"One touch of nature makes the whole world kin." William Shakespeare

Happy Earth Day, my friends!

Coming Clean

2010-04-15T08:27:00.000-07:00

You, dear blog reader, are just about to read one of my deepest, darkest, most disturbing secrets:

I have never read Wuthering Heights.

I've spent many years evading convos about its gothic charm, nodding when my friends discussed Heathcliff's obsession--I'm not proud of my prevarication. What's worse is I even specialized in the 19th Century British novel in grad school. Uh-huh.

I've happily dug into books by Eliot, Austen, Collins, Dickens, and even Charlotte Bronte. Why one sister and not the other? I don't know. It's one of those books, the ones you pick up at the bookstore, walk around with it for a while and then say, Ah, I don't think so before you make it to the register. I have a list of these books.

If you're brave enough, post one one title from your "never read" list in the comments box. Come on--it feels good to get it out in the open.

Friday Five Excitement!

2010-04-09T05:20:00.001-07:00

All things bookish and writerly this week:

1. I read two FAB YA books recently: Coffeehouse Angel by Suzanne Selfors (magical realism done right, along with a sideplot that deals with a family's financial problems--a rarity in YA) and The Body Finder by Kimberly Derting (OK, I read every word, but it felt like I ran through this book--I needed to know how it would end. This is a true thriller.) Check them out.

2. Our local librarians have done a fantastic job with our library's YA section. They've turned it into a total hangout, complete with chaise lounges and comfy rugs and good lighting. The teens want to spend time there, and they do. The next town over has a separate library set up just for YA literature! This makes me happy.

3. I was speaking with a friend who I hadn't seen in a while. When I mentioned I was writing YA, this person said, "Oh, good choice. Those are the easiest books to write and the most lucrative." I kept my mouth shut (probably because I was choking on my gum), but you could imagine the things running through my head. I hate everything a statement like this implies! What I ended up saying was, "Yeah, you're right. Maybe you should try it sometime." I guess that was kind of passive-aggressive, but, oh, well...

4. I love Twitter, but...I think I'm going to establish "dark periods" where I log off the Internet and devote that time to writing. Twitter is awesome, but the constant interaction is too alluring for a conversation starved writer. Writing can be lonesome endeavor, and for me, it needs to be if I want to do it right. So far fewer tweets from me, at least until I finish this book!

5. Check out Lisa and Laura's blog today for a guest post by Ms. Booksniper, the mysterious publishing insider whose fantastic and informative blog is just getting off the ground. She's funny and charming and in-the-know. I just wish I could figure out who she is....

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Thinking Inside the Ziplock

2010-04-07T06:28:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago, my youngest son swallowed a marble. Oh, not by accident, but because he thought it would be "fun." I frantically called the doctor who said, "Well, you've got to take him in to the ER."

I said, very maturely, "Do I have to?"

"I need an X-Ray of his intestines. Sometimes marbles get stuck in a little pocket and that could mean trouble."

We had already visited the ER twice--one broken arm, one possible concussion. I thought for sure another visit meant DCFS would take me into a mirrored interrogation room and beat me with an IV tube. So again, I said, "Seriously? Do I have to?"

"If you don't, you'll have to monitor his output for two days and sift through it to find the marble." She sighed and said, "Most people don't take that option."

I wasn't most people, I thought. I would take that option. "I'm going to do that," I said.

She laughed. "Good luck, and call me in a few days if it doesn't work."

OK, I'd changed a gazillion diapers by that point, so the task at hand shouldn't be so bad, right? But this wasn't the sweet, faint smelling poop of the newborn babe, this was a five-year-old's "output"--smelly, bulky, adult-style poop.

This is what I decided to do: When he visited the bathroom, I had him poop in a ziplock bag. Then I simply closed the bag an smooshed it down. After about twelve hours--bingo! One very hard, very round marble. I opened the baggie just a little, squeezed the marble into the sink, and blasted it with hot water. My hands never had to touch any, um, output.

When I called the doc to report my success, she said, "Let's hear it for thinking outside of the box." But was that really thinking outside of the situation or taking what I had and making it work for me?

I've been doing a lot of beta reading lately, for writers at every stage of the process. Common first responses to criticism usually run along the lines of "Oh, crap, I have to throw everything out" or "I can't change it, because I can't think of what else to do." Sometimes these are appropriate and unavoidable outcomes. Most of the time, though, the writer needs to recognize that the box is in pretty good shape, it's just what's inside it that need some purging, rearranging, or expanding. It's not easy to decide which you need to do, but the Ah-Ha! moment is there if you have the confidence to wait for it.

Unfortunately, with revising, you usually do have to get your hands dirty...

(PS-After a major disinfecting, I kept the marble. My cousin jokes that I should drill a hole through it and wear it around my neck, a constant reminder (read: guilt tool) for my son of the lengths his mother will go to for him--or, to avoid a crowded ER.)

Best Contest Ever

2010-04-06T06:58:00.001-07:00

Lisa and Laura Roecker are celebrating the 500th follower on their blog by hosting an amazing contest. The prizes are out of this world (Pineapple pizza! Prosecco! A pearl necklace!), and you can enter by clicking here.

Friday Five

2010-04-02T05:28:00.000-07:00

Random, as usual:

1. Book Trailers: When I first heard of the concept I could see the marketing potential, but the examples out there were a little, um, lame. The whole point is to get readers excited, right? The trailers I saw merely confused me, and, I'm sure, other potential readers. I felt that way until I saw a trailer that did EVERYTHING right. The trailer for Perfect Chemistry by Simone Elkeles did exactly what it should--it made me want to run to Borders to buy the book. (I dare you to watch it and not have Es su libro, yo...it's a book running through your head all day!) Simone's second book in the Perfect Chemistry series, Rules of Attraction, comes out in this month, and the book trailer will have you itching to read it. Check it out here. Also, read about Simone's experience making the trailer on Kristin Nelson's blog, Pub Rants.

2. Allergy season is upon us. As a long-time sufferer, I'm always trying to come up with alternative ways to battle the mighty pollen. Last year I tried eating some raw, locally-produced honey through the winter months, and it worked (to a certain extent). I'm using honey this year, along with my neti-pot twice a day (with a few drops of grapefruit seed extract added to the saline solution). Neti-pots freak a lot of people out, but I say, get over yourselves and give the old neti a try. Your sinuses will thank you.

3. I want a Mac notebook computer. So bad. But, I'm a little hesitant to spend the cash on something I will tote around with me. Is it worth it, oh great Mac users?

4. Mad Men Barbie Dolls. I'm almost tempted to take the cash I've saved for a Mac and spend it on these:

Do you think they come with little packs of Lucky Strikes and martini shakers?

5. Spring Fever. Every year I get a dose of the crazies come spring, which usually results in me doing something drastic to my hair. Last year I started growing the gray out (I've had gray hair since my late teens! No lie.), so now I kind of look like this (um, after a professional blow-out):

The problem is I don't have Ken Paves living in my closet, so I need a hair style for curly hair that will work with the gray and not make me look like I spend all my time playing bunco in slippers and a housedress.

This is what I've come up with:

Curly bob:

Layered, almost 70s `do:

The sleek bob (and, yes, I chose this photo on purpose, so make all the cougar jokes you want...):

Thoughts?

Busy Writer Bread

2010-03-30T07:59:00.000-07:00

Hey, everyone!

I came across this awesome brown bread recipe, perfect for busy writers who are so engrossed in their WIPs, they don't want to think about rising and punching and kneading. The cool thing is this bread looks so rustic and pretty when it's done, everyone will think you're this earth woman/domestic goddess/master baker. Here goes:

1 cup all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 tablespoons cold butter (NO margarine--eww.)
2 cups whole-wheat flour
1/4 to 1/3 cup rolled oats
1 1/2 cups plain yogurt (Greek works best.)
milk

1. In a bowl, mix all-purpose flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. With a pastry cutter or 2 knives (or, um, your hands) cut butter until mixture forms fine crumbs. Stir in whole wheat flour and oats.

2. Gently stir in the yogurt. If mixture seems dry, add milk a little bit at a time. It shouldn't be sticky.

3. Turn dough on a lightly floured board and knead gently five times to make a ball. Set on a lightly greased baking sheet. Pat into a 7-inch circle. With a floured knife, cut a large X on the top of the loaf.

4. Bake at 375 until well-browned, about 40 minutes. You can serve this warm if you like (I like!) with butter and honey. Yummmm!

(I found this recipe at myrecipes.com and am probably breaking about a hundred copyright rules by reproducing it, but you guys won't tell, right?)

Winner!!

2010-03-29T14:43:00.000-07:00

KATHLEEN is the big winner of the ultra-sexy All U Can Eat. Happy reading, Kathleen!

Incidentally, my first kiss scenario: I was one and a half and my mom's friend Pam brought her son over to play. He was a younger man, only one at the time. The moms sat us babes on the couch and within seconds, I attacked! A big smoochero! There are pictures of this somewhere...

Contest!

2010-03-25T03:54:00.000-07:00

It just so happens I have an extra copy of All U Can Eat by Emma Holly. (Either Amazon sent two copies by mistake or I hit 2 in the quantity box when I ordered. I'll never tell, as one would make me a thief and the other an idiot.) If you can ignore the dubious grammar in the title, you will fall into Holly's world of romance and intrigue, a world, according to Publishers Weekly, "that may shock the uninitiated." Ooh, la-la!

I'm severely math-challenged, so I'm not going to rustle up any spreadsheets allotting so many points for commenting, following, etc. I'm just not built that way. And, though the book may be NC-17, this blog is mostly PG. To enter, all I want to know is this: When you had your first kiss, were you the kisser or the kissee? Feel free to give details in the comment box, but being an exhibitionist is really not necessary to win (though you know I'm nosiest person in the world, so if you want to tell us the circumstances...)

I'll contact the winner on Monday afternoon, after I throw all the names in a hat and have my son do the honors. I'll ship the book on Tuesday.

Oh, and you have to be 18 years old to win. The book really is that hot.

One Thumb Up

2010-03-23T10:30:00.000-07:00

I rarely tell people what to do (unless, of course, you're my kid) but I strongly encourage you to follow Roger Ebert on Twitter (@ebertchicago).

YA novelist John Green called Ebert one of the few remaining public intellectuals, a description that will make sense to you after reading only a handful of his tweets. I'd say only a fourth pertain to movies, the rest cover the gamut from politics to religion to race relations to healthcare.

Admittedly, I have a soft spot for Roger Ebert. He's made his name in my hometown, for one, and I have a lot of admiration for anyone who courageously meets each day with a smile and shrug while fighting a devastating illness. I also have a great Roger Ebert story (I know, I always have a story, but stick with me):

In the early nineties I scored tickets to see Oprah. Siskel and Ebert were slated to appear. I went in to the taping a fan of Siskel. Of the two, I thought he was the cute one, and a charmer. Ebert, I thought, was a chubby know-it-all movie geek.

I won't say anything about Siskel except that I was disappointed. Ebert, though...wow. Before the show began he talked to people in the audience, talked with people, not at them. He had a great, friendly laugh and an upbeat attitude. His wife, Chaz, was there and she sat by herself at the side of the room. As soon as the director called for a break, Ebert jumped off the stage and went right to her, just so he could hold her hand and keep her company (She would have been sitting rather uncomfortably alone if he hadn't). He stayed after the show wrapped, and acted like he had all the time in the world to meet and greet. I walked out of Harpo Studios a fan.

We've lost a lot of iconic Chicagoans since then (Studs Terkel, Irv Kupcinet, and even Gene Siskel), so we're lucky to have such a lively mind as Ebert's still active in the public sphere. Check him out!

Friday Five

2010-03-19T07:40:00.000-07:00

Total randomness:

1. If you want to know what happens to high school mean girls when they grow up, watch The Real Housewives of New York. It's gotten so bad I'm starting to think the only sane one is Alex, and that's saying a lot.

2. I've realized there are certain words and phrases I simply can't use without sounding like a total dork. They are: Bee-yotch, for realz, yo, the term pedagogical, and basically any curse word that doesn't include damn in it. People laugh when these come out of my mouth. They really do. Words/phrases I seem to get away with, though I probably shouldn't: groovy, dig, totally, right on, like, um, and fantabulous.

3. Sawyer on LOST. Leather jacket. Cop. Manliness. Yum.

4. YA books I've read recently and loved: Tangled by Carolyn Mackler and Into the Wild Nerd Yonder by Julie Halpern. YA book I read and hated so much I wanted to throw it across the room: Do you really think I'd post the title?

5. Spring! It's sprung! I'm spending this weekend smelling the air...

Have fun!

Author Appreciation Week: William Goldman/Lisa & Laura Roecker

2010-03-15T12:02:00.000-07:00

I'm going to take a cue from Kody and mention one established author and one debut novel I'm dying to read.

Established author: Mr. William Goldman

When I was in high school I picked up a battered copy of Marathon Man at a used book store. It looks like this:

I use the present tense because I still own it, along with every other book William Goldman has written (Yes, I am absurdly proud of my collection.). The books run the spectrum of genre. Some examples: No Way to Treat a Lady (Thriller/Suspense), The Princess Bride (Fantasy), The Temple of Gold (classic coming-of-age), Boys and Girls Together (sprawling character-driven epic), Magic (Horror), and yeah, he also wrote the greatest modern western, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Talk about versatility!

There is a common thread through all his work: the incredibly engaging plots are always character-driven. Think about Babe in excruciating pain as his Nazi dentist torturer drills into his mouth sans anesthesia and asks, "Is it safe?" or Butch and Sundance moaning "Who are those guys?" as the horsemen of modernity nip at their heels. Perfection, no?

A writer could learn a lot from a William Goldman book. I know this one has.

Debut I can't wait to read: A Kate Lowry Mystery: The Haunting of Pemberly Brown by Lisa and Laura Roecker.

Full disclosure: I've already read a version of this book and I've got to tell you, it's as stylish as a pair of oversized black sunglasses and a string of gleaming white pearls.

I was a HUGE Nancy Drew fan in grammar school. I devoured every book. So when Lisa & Laura originally described Kate as a modern Nancy Drew, I thought, ooooh-kaaay...

But Kate takes up that mantle with verve and a big ironic wink. The mystery at the center of the book kept me on my toes, but Kate's humor and courage won my heart.

So I guess this is a book I'm dying to see on the shelves. And I will. In 2011!

Friday Five: Fashion Edition

2010-03-12T03:35:00.000-08:00

I went to the mall last week and my visit inspired this week's Friday Five post. I'm also cranky. Be forewarned...

OK, retailers are suffering. This is apparent. Everyone blames the recession for keeping inventory low and people away, but maybe the hideous trends being shoved down our throats can shoulder some of the blame, no? I like fashion as much as the next gal, but really designers, if you want to start selling again, you really need to stop making...

1. Skinny jeans. No one looks good in them unless they wear a tunic or abbreviated muu-muu to cover up that puffy little muffin top/belly roll/spare tire. This ensemble makes most people look like an apple on a stick. Not flattering. (The only thing that's even possibly worse is a pair of acid washed jeans that have been pre-shredded. If someone had to chemically wear out your jeans in some factory in China then you are indeed a loo-whooo-ser.)

2. Empire waist shirts/dresses with waaaay too much fabric. I don't need to be reminded of what I looked like when nine months along. Thank you, but no.

3. Open-toe boots. Whaaa???

4. See through anything that isn't underwear. Because no matter how beautiful you are, you'll still end up looking like this.

5. Neon if you are above the age of thirteen. Even for the young, headbands made of colors not found in nature are kind of a bad idea. Hopefully this trend will disappear as quickly as it did in the 80s, or everyone is going to look like they just stepped off a Wham! video.

Alright I'm done complaining, but you are free to bitch all you want in your comment box!

Over and Over

2010-03-08T19:57:00.001-08:00

I know a lot of English major-y people who reread Hamlet every few years, or Dante's Inferno, or something equally as high-falutin'. They generally do this while sitting in a very public section of Borders, or in Starbucks, as, let's face it, if you're going to work your way through Dante, you want other people to acknowledge it, right?

The stuff I reread is not so highbrow. Some books just call to me, year after year, and I never tire of them. Is it the story? The voice? Do I recognize a little piece of myself in those pages? I don't know. What I do know is these books have become part of how I define myself. Here's a partial list:

On the Road by Jack Kerouac
Shining Through by Susan Isaacs
The World According to Garp by John Irving
Boys and Girls Together by William Goldman
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

And in YA: Forever by Judy Blume, Sloppy Firsts by Meg McCafferty, Just Listen by Sarah Dessen, and I've already read Perfect Chemistry by Simone Elkeles twice, so I think it makes the list!

What about you guys? Have any go-to books?

Oscar Night!!!

2010-03-07T11:15:00.001-08:00

Every year I compete in some super cool Oscar pools (yep-for CASH!) and I usually rock at predicting the winners. I'm also a total braggart about it so my husband gave me a super hard time last year when I went down in flames. I think I got nearly everything wrong. This happens when I don't see the movies and vote based on instinct and what I read in Entertainment Weekly.

Well, this year I haven't seen any of the Best Pic noms except for UP or any of the performances except Meryl Streep's in Julie/Julia. So, these are my picks and my crappy reasons for choosing them. If they happen to coincide with what everyone else is predicting, well, that's just happenstance. Here goes:

Best Picture (Who came up with listing ten? Does this mean we have to suffer through ten stupid montages this year?)

--Avatar (The blue people freak me out and I HATE James Cameron, so no.)

--The Blind Side (I like Sandy--everybody calls her that, right?--but this movie just doesn't feel big enough for a Best Pic nod.)

--District 9 (What is this? Seriously, I never heard of it.)

--An Education (I love Britain in the sixties, but again, this seems like a small film.)

--The Hurt Locker (Kathryn Bigelow has the best arms and the sense to divorce James Cameron. And that guy Jeremy Whatshisname is hot. This one gets my vote!)

--Inglorious Basterds (Tarantino/Pitt, etc. are so full of themselves. Turns me off. Ugh.)

--Precious: based on the...oh, forget it. (This was my second choice, pretty much because the trailer made me cry.)

--A Serious Man (This is the Coen brothers, right? They hate the Oscars--why give them one?)

--UP (Bawled during the first ten minutes, but I have a thing against giving an animated film the Oscar for this category. There already is a Best Animated Film so it can win that one.)

--Up in the Air (Clooney looks too smug for his own good. Jason Reitman will probably win for his screenplay. That's enough.)

Best Actor:

--Jeff Bridges (YES! He is winning for everything he's ever done. My favorite? The Fabulous Baker Boys)

--George Clooney (Nope. It's the smug factor.)

--Colin Firth (Ooh, la-la, how I love Colin. But I still think it belongs to Jeff.)

--Morgan Freeman (He's been lauded enough, don't you think?)

--Jeremy Renner (Yep, he's a hot one. But too new to the Academy. The nomination is honor enough, yada, yada, yada.)

Actress:

--Sandra Bullock (She's my choice, but she shouldn't win for this. She was brilliant in Crash, though it was a small role. Again, this is a career win, and her career deserves it.)

--Helen Mirren (She's won too much already.)

--Carey Mulligan (I'm sure she's great, but like Jeremy "Hottie" Renner, she's too new.

--Gabourey Sidibe (What a beautifully expressive face. I really want to see this film but I'm a little scared to watch it around people. I've run into quite a few girls like Precious in my classroom and Gabourey gets that "I hurt so deep down" look perfectly. But, I feel like if someone wins an Oscar before they are established, it does them more harm than good. I hope we see her nominated again someday.)

--Meryl Streep (Great impersonation of Julia. It could have been totally Dan Ackroyd campy but she pulled it off. Oscar worthy, though? Um?)

The rest: Supporting Actor: That guy everyone is talking about from Inglorious Basterds. He does creepy really well. Supporting actress: Mo'Nique (There's a forcefulness about her). Screenplay: Up in the Air (adapted) and The Hurt Locker (original). And that song from Crazy Heart is awesome and should win (The Weary Kind.)

So, do you guys agree or do you think I'm going down this year too?

Milestones

2010-03-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

Today my oldest son turns ten years old. Last night the family said goodbye to the birthday boy's nine-year-old self and this morning we said hello to a ten-year-old (sniff!). I love you, baby (Yeah, you'll always be my baby!). The next ten years should be interesting...let's enjoy the adventure!

Today is also my best friend Jean's birthday. She's totally OK with the aging thing, so she won't mind that I tell you it's her 4oth. Yep. A big one. This year is also the 26th anniversary of our friendship. We became friends at our high school freshman orientation (!) and have remained close ever since.

Since I write about people in high school, Jean is always in my thoughts as I sit at my computer. We were so different. I had a thing for black eyeliner, army jackets and threadbare sweaters found at the Salvation Army. Jean liked Esprit, Coach purses, and Ralph Lauren. She liked the jocks; I liked the guys who wrote bad poetry and never washed their hair. She's five (!) inches taller than me and can actually can stand to listen to country music (barf).

But she could always make me laugh harder than anyone else. She never teased me when I added Cherry Coke to my beer because I didn't like the taste. She took me cruising in her little Dodge Omni, past the houses of the boys I liked. She listened and never judged and always looked out for my best interests.

Our friendship has lasted through college and marriage and children and more. She's seen me through heartache and joy, and I hope I've done the same for her. We've sustained our friendship because we value it, and realize how rare it is to find someone you connect with so well in this great big life.

So happy birthday, Jean! This one's for you.

(OK, that is a condom bouquet on my head. It was my bachelorette party!)

Friday Five

2010-02-26T06:00:00.000-08:00

Very random this week:

1. Common Sense Media: OK, this topic has been kind of tweeted/blogged to death this week, but I just wanted to add my two cents. As a parent, I understand how difficult it is to filter through all the television shows/books/movies kids might be interested in. Organizations like CSM attempt to highlight the potentially objectionable, to save parents some time and uncomfortable questions. I understand the motivation; however, I think the process dehumanizes both the art and our understanding of art. Plucking odd moments from a story and attaching a label to them (lying, alcohol use, sexuality, consumerism) does nothing to communicate the worth of a story, or its potential impact on a child. If my mom saw the CSM label for "Are You There God, It's Me, Margaret," a book that made me sigh with relief that maybe I was normal, I wouldn't have been allowed to read it (emerging sexuality, Playboy references, etc.). That would've been a travesty.

2. Dandelion Greens: I know how good dandelion greens are for me. In fact, I've known for a long time, but until a few weeks ago I never tried them. What I couldn't get past was the image of my 86-year-old neighbor obsessively spraying every budding dandelion with the gleeful intensity of Chemical Ali. He hates them, and is none too happy with me when I let some pop out of the ground and turn to seed so my kids can blow on them, spreading the love. Last spring I considered eating the ones found on my lawn, but then my OCD took over and I imagined all the pesticides from my neighbor's lawn seeping into mine during the heavy spring rains. Anyhow, I was at Whole Foods about a month ago, found myself in front of the dandelion greens and, feeling brave, bought two kinds, regular and red. I love them so much I'm adding them to every recipe I can. So good!

3. Rewards: I believe in rewarding myself after completing a writing project. The rewards need not be material, but hey, they usually are. I'm not quite done with my revision yet (I'm sure my crazy smart agent will have even more ideas for making it better), but when I am, I'm buying myself this.

4. Olympics: Continuously awed. Amazingly proud. Totally inspired.

5. Recycling: This week our family did not have one bag of regular garbage to throw out come garbage day. Everything was recycled/composted, etc. Yay, us!

Stepped on a Pop Tart

2010-02-23T06:40:00.000-08:00

For most of my adult life, I thought the line in Jimmy Buffet's song Margaritaville, I blew out my flip flop, stepped on a pop top, was actually ...stepped on a Pop Tart. Someone kindly pointed it out to me while I energetically sang along at a concert (OK, maybe not so kindly. It was more like, you dork!). I also thought that in U2's Where the Streets Have No Name, our love turns to rust, was actually our love tends to rush. I went to see them when they toured for the Joshua Tree, like, seven times but didn't discover my mistake until last year. A week ago, while listening to the radio on my way to work, Carol King's song Jasmine came on. I like to sing in the car. Loudly. I cranked it up and realized, OMG, she's singing Jazz Man. This song is clearly about a jazz musician, but I probably warped the other lyrics because I reaaaally like the smell of jasmine. Go ahead, say it...dork.

I thought maybe my hearing was bad. But then I realized, I heard what I felt was right. And now, even though I know the proper lyrics, it takes everything I have to hear them the right way.

For the past few weeks I've been working on a tough revision project. My friend Alexa called it a reimagining, which is probably more accurate. I just stared at my original draft on Day 1, thinking, how in the heck am I going to do this? Then I realized I shouldn't be looking at my earlier draft at all. In my head it was a finished product, and, like with the song lyrics, it was excruciatingly hard to train my brain to hear it differently. I opened a new doc and typed Chapter 1.

It made a world of difference.

So, to all my writer friends out there tackling revision projects: my thoughts are with you. Just don't ask me about the lyrics to Poker Face (You don't want to know what I thought...)

The Beatles on Query Letters

2010-02-08T20:48:00.000-08:00

OK, I don't claim to be an expert at writing query letters. But I did do pretty well with mine, so all those hours spent combing the Internet for examples must have paid off. I could have saved myself a lot of time, though, if I'd just listened to one of my favorite songs, Paperback Writer. Turns out Paul McCartney knew a heck of a lot about what not to do when querying agents. Check it out (and my apologies if someone has done this before):

Paperback Writer

Dear Sir or Madam, Will you read my book? (Too general a salutation--personalize!)

It took me years to write, will you take a look? (Not relevant.)

Based on a novel by a man named Lear (This makes the book sound derivative.)

And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer, (Desperation is never attractive)

Paperback writer.

It's a dirty story of a dirty man, (Repetition=poor vocabulary)

And his clinging wife doesn't understand (Vague. Why doesn't she understand? We need plot! What is the basic conflict?)

His son is working for the Daily Mail, (A laundry list of characters. Again, what happens?)

It's a steady job, but he wants to be a paperback writer, (Lack of originality.)

Paperback writer.

It's a thousand pages, give or take a few, (Word count, not pages!)

I'll be writing more in a week or two. (Only query one work at a time.)

I can make it longer if you like the style, (Only query completed works.)

I can change it round, and I want to be a paperback writer, (Find a critique group. Revise. Then Send.)

Paperback writer.

If you really like it you can have the rights (Copyrighting your material = amateur)

It could make a million for you overnight (No room for bragging in a query.)

If you must return it, you can send it here, (Agents need full contact info!)

But I need a break, and I want to be a paperback writer (Let the book speak for itself.)

Paperback writer.

Paperback writer--paperback writer. (Again, repetition=bad.)

So there you have it--the Fab Four on what not to do when writing queries!