Happy Halloween!

For Halloween I thought I'd dress up as Anime Kiersten. See what an awesome job I did?

Okay, seriously though, isn't Natalie talented? When this picture was being taken, I wasn't trying to imitate her drawing, but man, girl's got skills. My goal is to grow my eyes five time bigger to match myself with my anime even better.

And, in honor of one of my favorite holidays, I found some random Russian war vet to snuggle up to. Sure, he looks a little creepy, but I thought he was hot.

So, what are your plans for Halloween? I'm gonna take the kiddos trick-or-treating, then raid their stashes for all of the good stuff. Because I'm a good mom and I don't want them eating too much sugar, that's why!

Apparently

So, turns out one of my readers was kind enough to point out that I suck at setting.

Dialogue? Awesome.

Characterizations? Great.

Style? Fabulous.

Setting? Not so much.

I always feel like if I stop to describe what the room looks like, or what they passed on the drive home, I'm bogging down and bringing the action and pace to a screaming halt. Looks like I'll have to find a happy medium.

Dang, I hate growing as a writer.

Six Random Things

I guess you all have figured out that I am not a very fast runner, as I've been tagged again, this time by Fairyhedgehog. And since I completely neglected my last tag from Writtenwyrrd, I figure I had better do this one. Plus, it's easy! Six random things about me.

1. Most of you know, but I'm only 4'11" tall. Which is really very short. Sometimes I bring my children's step stool into the kitchen and stand on it, marvelling at how different the world looks and daydreaming about being that tall. Tall in this case being 5'5". I fully expect all of my children to outgrow me by the time they are twelve, and have an unreasonable affection for Kristen Chenoweth of Pushing Daisies, who is EXACTLY 4'11" as well. However, in spite of my severe lack of inches, I always wear flats. I figure, what's the point in heels? Even a three-inch heel only puts me at 5'2".

2. Hot Stuff is 6'0". Yes, we are very vertically mismatched. But adorable.

3. Continuing the Kiersten is ridiculously short theme, when I was a senior in high school I was tutoring at a local elementary school (5- to 12-year-olds). One day as I walked down the hall to the library the principal stopped and informed me that I needed to go outside for recess.

I WAS EIGHTEEN.

4. I've just realized this has turned from six random things to a series on my height (or lack thereof). Back to random then. I thought you got pregnant from kissing too much until seventh grade. Lemme tell you, that health class was a little traumatic.

5. Yesterday I remembered an herbal supplement I took a few times in high school when I would get so stressed out I couldn't function. I always thought it was a placebo until I looked it up and discovered it is, in fact, a natural TRANQUILIZER. No wonder it worked so well.

6. When I was in fourth grade I was jumping on the trampoline and I landed wrong--ON the trampoline--and snapped my leg in half. Now I've got a weird dent and a bizarre U-shaped scar prominently featured on my left shin. When little kids ask me about it I tell them this long, involved story about a trip to the beach in Florida and baby hammerhead sharks.

And then I tell them the truth.

There you go, six not-really-so-random-after-all things about me. I tag the MoMos, Kayleigh, and Anthony. Unless any of you hate tags, in which case, pretend I didn't.

However, this series of things you never knew you didn't want to know about me reminds me that it's almost November, which means I can justify another Question and Answer time! Look for a post to submit questions coming soon...

Real Life Needs to Back Off

Those of you who were with me on the wild, wild ride that was Flash are probably wondering why I'm not halfway done with Dust yet. It's true--I would probably have been about 40,000 words in, instead of a measely 4,000.

So, it's EXCUSES time! That's right, I'm gonna give you a bunch of legitimate and/or crap excuses about why Dust is just moseying along at a perfectly reasonable pace.

1. Real life keeps intruding on my fantasies. It's true--I haven't had much good daydreaming time lately. Mostly I've just been sleeping during prime "imagination" time. Which brings me to

2. I'm still tired. But it's getting better. Flash raced along because I gave up napping when my kids do. (Wait, you are thinking, you NAP with your only free time during the day? You don't clean, or, well, clean? NO. I don't. I get one, maybe two hours a day without Dojo, do you really think I'm going to clean? No, I am going to be unconscious as fast and as long as possible.) I haven't been able to give up napping again yet, but I'm getting close. I didn't nap yesterday, but that was because

3. I've been working. It's true! Writing things that, while not wildly entertaining, actually pay. I thought about slipping in some pixies or car crashes, but figured the website I was writing content for probably wouldn't appreciate it. I've got to earn lots and LOTS of money so I can get whatever awesome Christmas presents I want for

4. Hot Stuff. Because in June, when I wrote Flash, I was a bad, bad friend and wife. Every night as soon as the kids were in bed, I got on Laptop and I didn't stop writing until after Hot Stuff went to bed. Poor, lonely Hot Stuff. That was rude of me. Anyone lucky enough to be married to him definitely should not take the few hours we see each other a day for granted. So this time around, no obsession. But I will try to spend more time

5. Writing during the day. But not today. Today I have to clean, clean, and clean some more, since my family (who live in UTAH and ARE NOT HERE) decided I needed to throw a Halloween party for Nayna. EVEN THOUGH THEY AREN'T HERE AND AREN'T HELPING. Fortunately I have awesome friends with awesome kids, so we're all doing a little bit. Unfortunately, my bit includes hosting, which means I should really stop writing this stupid post and get cleaning my stupid kitchen.

So there you have it. Real life takes priority over fantasy. Who knew? But no worries--I still managed to throw down almost 2,000 words yesterday. So Dust will get here, and quickly. Just not in an insane flash, like, well, Flash.

Off Topic

I know this doesn't have anything to do with my usual subject matter on the blog, but really, is this not the single most awesome little kid halloween costume you have EVER seen in your life?

If that adorable little girl dressed up as a human cupcake didn't make you smile, there is something seriously wrong with you.

My apologies to my wonderful sister-in-law Carrie for shamelessly stealing this picture of my niece, but really, how could I not? It's just too awesome. Even more awesome when you know that Carrie is an incredibly talented cake decorator. Apparently she's branching out into child decoration, as well!

Ooooh, which makes me think of a connection! Here, Carrie is taking her talent and finding new ways to apply it. Just like writers can take their creative writing skills and use them to make money writing nonfiction, and nonfiction writers can take their boring writing skills and use them to write things that are way more fun but probably won't make any money at all!

I Love Eavesdropping

Now, don't get me wrong--not eavesdropping on important or private conversations. I just like listening to people having conversations in public. It's always fun when you aren't getting the whole story. Teenagers are great, but little kids? Even better.

Maybe ten-year-old kid to much smaller kid. "Really? You're only five? Man, that sucks. I'm twelve."

I wish I could have conversations like that. "Man, you're only eighteen? Dude, that's awful. I'm twenty-five." (Insert cocky half-smile here, because really, age is an accomplishment!)

Then there were two adorable little five-year-old girls. Both dressed up in their halloween costumes, they shouted, "Let's go to our castle! It's PROBLEM SOLVING TIME!"

Now, at first glance, that's adorable. But if you think about it, it's a little disturbing. Where is the violence? Where is the conflict? Gone are the great "Kill the badguy!" cartoons of my youth. They've been replaced with intelligent and age-appropriate cartoons that focus not on conflict but on problem solving. So in a way, it's fantastic. But it also makes me a little sad. Because going to Problem Solving Castle? Just not nearly as much fun.

Ooooh, Sneak Peak!

Just because I'm too lazy to create new content today, here's the first page of Dust. Enjoy.

Dust

By Kiersten White

Liz looked longingly down the hall. Jack Broughton was down there, surrounded by a gaggle of girls, as usual. She sighed. Why did she have to have a stupid W last name? And why, oh why, did they have to arrange the lockers alphabetically? It just wasn’t fair. Here she was, practically out of the building, and nowhere near where she wanted to be—somewhere Jack might finally notice her after all these years.

“Stupid alphabet,” she muttered to herself, opening her backpack to unload it. She reached in for her biggest notebook, then jumped and pulled her hand out in shock. It was covered in something red and wet. “What the,” she whispered, nearly panicked. Opening her backpack even further, she let out a relieved breath and rolled her eyes. A handful of strawberries—now smashed to a pulp and staining everything—had been shoved in among her things. “Stupid pixies!” she shouted. “Crap, crap, crap…when are they going to learn that some gifts are NOT nice?”

“Beth?” a confused voice asked her.

She jumped, looking up into familiar brown eyes. “Oh, hey Sam,” she said quickly.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighed, making up a lie on the spot. “I had a bag of strawberries in here, but it came open and now all of my things are splattered with berry guts.”

“Bummer,” he said, crouching down to hold her folders and notebooks as she pulled them out. He helped her wipe them off as best they could, then stacked them in her locker.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she said, “My iPod made it.”

Sam laughed. “Good thing—can’t separate you from your punk, can we? Is that what you were yelling about The Pixies?”

“What?” Liz asked, confused. “Oh—pixies, yeah, The Pixies. Gotta love nineties punk grunge, right?”

“You do,” he said, shaking his head and smiling.

Ah...

Nothing like a crisp day in October to get you excited about Autumn. Especially crisp, eighty-something degree days.

Huh?

Clearly San Diego does not do the whole "seasons" thing very well.

Anyway, somehow my brain got switched to sleep mode and I can't figure out how to reboot. I guess it'll just be one of those days. Example? While trying to type especially, I actually typed...expecially. Seriously. So I guess this will be an expecially short post today.

I've been wondering lately what makes someone click to a blog--then what makes them actually stay and read the blog--and then what makes them keep coming back. Feel free to expound in the comments; I'll share my expecially interesting thoughts later.

Flash--A Limerick Introduction

There once was a young girl named Sarah
of the future she was aware-ah.
She saw it occur
in a painful blur
It was more than she could bear-ah.

But bad guys got wind of her skill
their bank accounts looking to fill
they took her away
one bright, lovely day
Bringing her against her will.

Speaking of Will, he's a hotty
But Sarah worries he's naughty
She's loved him three years
but now she has tears
He's in the kidnapping party.

Then there is James, the dear boy
Thinks of Sarah as a toy
he wants to break her
so he can make her
Into something he'll enjoy.

Now she has things to figure out
like what her visions are about
And just who Will is
(oh, please let them kiss!)
and whether her feelings to doubt.

She knows that she loves him, it's true
but does Will really love her too?
Or he is just part
of breaking her heart
She just doesn't know what to do.

Oh, let's don't forget the bad guys
who fill her head with fear and lies
she's got to escape
this horrible fate
Or risk going mad (then she'll die).

So poor Sarah--what a big mess.
Her little heart we should bless.
But Sarah, she's plucky
A smart, feisty ducky,
She is strong and smart under duress.

Does she choose James or choose Will?
Does she escape or get killed?
Well you'll have to wait
even though Flash is great
We're working on submitting still.


(Thanks, folks, I'll be here all week! Also, see the next post for a section from Flash. Prose, not poetry, no worries.)

Flash Snippet

You asked for it.

This is a section from the beginning of Flash. Sarah, faced with admitting what she can do or being killed, tells Reed about the flash (vision of the future) she saw when they were kidnapping her. This is also the first glimpse you get of why Sarah was so shocked to see Will in the car with her kidnappers. Oh, Sarah and Will, how I love you two.

And now it's gone ; )

It's a Pumpkin Parade!

Or rather, a parade of pumpkin pictures. Hey, don't blame me. Flog the people who voted for more of them in the poll.

I can't decide if Cinderella pumpkins are cool or freaky. That one right by his head may or may not be alive... I think it was actually an alien pumpkin snowman, trying to infiltrate our holiday celebrations.

He rolled that thing all the way across the field.

(Okay, I'm totally lying, he couldn't even budge it.)

At Hot Stuff's request, I copied the pose we kept making our kids do. (I'm not as cute as they are.)

After weighing all the options, we picked the maroon pumpkin with long hair and the cranky pumpkin with the gray shirt.

We're pretty happy with our decision; neither has started to rot, and they've got the cutest faces you'll ever see.

Cult Status Update (and the Return of Laptop)

For the two people who voted that they wanted to hear more about our cult, here are the updates for October:

First and foremost, not a single person has paid their dues. Come on, folks. I mean, here I am, being all generous, agreeing to lead you without taking you away from your families, encouraging mass suicide, or asking you to adopt any beliefs other than that I'm awesome. The least you can do is suffer financially, right?

Second, we do have a problem. See, I like symmetry. A lot. So the whole ELEVEN followers is driving me nuts. Our new task as a cult: either get one more person to sign on as a follower so we're at an even twelve and your adorable pictures fill two nice, even rows, or five people need to drop out. (Of course, if TWO people sign up, we're going to have to start all over again making things even.) I'll leave it to my second-in-command to be in charge of recruiting (or dismissing) members. Laptop, take it away.

I appreciate those of you who expressed concern for my extended absence. Blame Renee, who broke my heart when she flirted with all of the Macs.

As second in command, I encourage EVERYONE to stop following Kiersten. Stop reading her stupid blog, take your picture off of her sidebar, never comment again. Maybe then she'll leave me alone once in a while. And I bet she'd be so depressed over losing all of her friends that she'd stop writing, too, and then I could retire to stare at Renee's blog in peace.

(Maybe I should get a second-in-command who actually likes me.)

Break It Down!

The poll, that is. I hate having those things on my sidebar. So the next few posts will be dedicated to responses on the poll (and all of them will include excessive parenthetical statements, since that was the number one request!).

This will be double duty for the one person who wanted an update on my querying and the one lazy person who wanted shorter posts.

Querying: going well. (But still going, so clearly not that well, otherwise I'd be done.)

The end.

(Stay tuned for more stupid poll responses.)

Sweet!

Every Saturday my friend Natalie does a sketch on her blog. And this Saturday it's none other than yours truly! I'm so flattered. And kind of wishing my collarbones actually looked like that. Anyway, take a look, it's awesome.

Other than that, not much to say today. My head hurts and I'm dealing with having one of my long held personal moral standards shattered. No, no, I didn't swear. I...gosh, this is hard...

I finally bought one of my children cartoon character-themed sneakers.

The light-up kind.

Oh, the humanity.

And So It Begins...

It's true--we all knew I wouldn't wait until November. But the point of NaNoWriMo is to force you to just write something start to finish. I already know I can do that. Mid-October or the beginning of November, it doesn't much matter.

So yes, I wrote the first chapter last night. I even came up with a title. It's a little tongue-in-cheek, since my pixies aren't actually anything like Disney's iconic Tinkerbell. Are you ready? The big reveal...my new manuscript is called:

Dust

Yeah, I think it's awesome ; ) You can tell I quite like the one word title. Anyway, I already love this book, and I'm already having problems. First and foremost, Flash was all about angst and tension. Thus, the soundtrack was emo-ish--mostly Snow Patrol. Ah, Snow Patrol. How I adore you and your songs of frustrated and unrequited love. However, the tone of this book is much different--very upbeat, skewed younger, and much funnier. (Well, I think it's funnier, but we all know I already think I'm funny.) So my old Pandora stations just aren't cutting it. I did listen to a bit of--you guessed it--The Pixies last night, which was fun, but not quite perky. I'm looking for the perfect soundtrack. Hellogoodbye is working for me, and I'm thinking of throwing in some Beatles, but other than, I'm at a loss. Turns out I love depressing music and don't have much experience with, you know, happy stuff.

I'm also going to have to add a disclaimer. I tend to get obsessive (but you already knew that, right?), so, while I'll keep posting, I'm not going to be stalking your blogs as much. I'm sorry. I still love you. Apparently I just love myself more. Or at least, I love my imaginary characters more.

And with that shattering blow to your self-esteem, I'm off to write the second chapter. Wheeeee!

A Querrific Update

Apparently one person out there is curious as to how my querying is going. (For the uninitiated, here's a summary of querying: you write a book. You write a one page letter describing this book. You send that letter to agents, asking them to read your book and consider representing you. They say no.) (Also, sometimes they actually ask you to send them the book so they can read it. And then they say no.) (And, according to legend, sometimes after reading your book they actually say yes.)

As I've mentioned before, I don't post specifics because there's no point. The great thing about querying is that things can be going horribly one minute, and the next minute they're going great. Unfortunately, the reverse is true as well. Natalie put it best, comparing it to chutes and ladders. One minute you're at the bottom, but if you hit the right person at the right time, bam! You're almost at the top. And then you hit a slide, and you're right back where you started.

So, I've put together a photo essay of what querying is like.

Sometimes you feel like this.

Sometimes you feel like this.

Most of the time, however, you just feel like this.

Querying. It's not for the faint of heart.

(Special thanks to Ford Modeling Agency for letting me use some of their pictures. Aren't those model children beautiful?)

Testing, Testing, One Two Three

I thought I'd try out writing a scene from my new book. Man, there's nothing like the new idea thrill--figuring out the plot, fleshing out characters, creating the world you'll spend the next sixty- or seventy-thousand words in. Fun, fun stuff. This is an experimental scene from my as-yet-unnamed book, which I am currently--and creatively--referring to as...Unnamed.

Liz stood facing the stall, hands firmly on her hips. "No, you may not take the horses out tonight. I don't care if you want to. I don't care if they want to! We've got an early morning group coming tomorrow, and I won't have time to brush all of the knots out of their manes. I said no!" Her shoulders dropped, and she gave an exasperated sigh. "Oh, don't be like that. Come on, I'll give you extra milk--warm, with cinnamon in it!"

She jumped as she heard a voice from the stable doors. "Um, Beth? Who are you talking to?"

Oh crap, she thought. Sam. Her face was totaly blank as she looked into his curious eyes. After a moment's pause, she scowled deliberately. "Who do you think I'm talking to, dork?" She cringed slightly when his face fell. Stupid, she chided herself. Why'd you have to call him that, of all things?

He stood up straighter, setting his jaw. This was new--usually he shied away from confrontation. "I don't know; maybe you still have your little imaginary friends."

Liz was about to reply when she felt a sharp poke in her shoulder. "Ouch!" she cried.

Sam looked confused, then lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings."

"No, it's not that," she replied, when they jabbed her again, even harder. "Stop it!" she yelled, turning toward the horse's stall. "Fine!"

She turned back to Sam, who was clearly starting to worry. Rolling her eyes, she said, "Not imaginary. Just mythological." Shaking her head, she muttered, "Happy now?" out of the side of her mouth.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

Liz looked at him, then cocked her head to the side. "Hey! You're not wearing your glasses!" she said, noticing for the first time. Funny, she had never realized what thick eyelashes he had around his large brown eyes. Maybe she only noticed now because he was blinking so slowly, trying to follow her string of nonsense. Stupid pixies, she thought. Rapid subject change was her only way out now. "Hey, let's go make some hot chocolate, okay?" She smiled cheerfully at Sam, who still seemed dubious, but shrugged and turned to go back to the house. As soon as he was leaving, Liz quickly leaned back into the stall. "No riding tonight, guys, I mean it!" she hissed, then hurried after Sam, hoping he wouldn't bring this up again.

My New Best Friend

Today I was standing out on the sidewalk with Nayna and Dojo, waiting for a friend to pick us up for soccer. A little boy, probably five, walked by. He stopped, looked back, and pointed to Dojo, saying, "Is he your little brother?"

No, but you are my new best friend.

In other news, I'm feeling guilty about not gearing up to do NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month or something like that, for the uninitiated--basically the idea is that you write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November [which leads directly to NaDePoEdNoMaTiOffAgMo, also known as National December Poorly Edited November Manuscripts Ticking Off Agents Month] [But surely anyone reading this site knows better than to send off a manuscript without first editing and rewriting. Or at least they know better now]). However, if Hot Stuff will do it with me, then I won't feel like I'm abandoning him. And if not, well, I did NaJuWriMo (I wrote a 75,000 word novel in June--take THAT, measly fifty-thousanders!).

How about you? Anyone gonna take the plunge? I still might, if I get a good enough idea between now and then. I've got a non-NaNo qualifying project tugging at my psyche...give me another week to catch up on my blood supply, and I might just cut out naps and get back to work.

Update: It's official--I'm working on a plot. NaNoWriMo, here I come.

Things I Can't/Won't Write (and a Snippet of Flash!)

Anthony raised an interesting question during a recent discussion of Flash. He asked if, along with all of the...okay, wait, I had to erase the last two sentences that would draw google traffic of an unsavory nature here. To paraphrase in such a way that someone searching for naughty things on google would not find my blog and be utterly disappointed, Anthony was asking about content--specifically adult content and whether or not all characters were equally shirt-free. (I think I got around the phrasing okay there...it's always interesting to see what searches direct people here. I always feel bad for "fallopian tubes bursting" and such.)

It got me thinking about what I will and will not write. I fully recognize that teenagers are teenagers, and do a lot of things that I never did. I also recognize that there is plenty of YA out there that is very edgy, very dark, and very explicit that explores those things. So I don't need to, do I? I hope to offer YA readers a story that is an alternative to adult themes. Yes, it's exciting, and romantic, and interesting, but it doesn't have anything that you would be embarrassed about if your mom picked it up and started reading. I would know, my mom read it.

And personally, I don't swear. Ever. Not even words that most people consider fine. (The one exception being crap, because what can I say? I like using that one.) I don't mind when other people swear in their writing or on their blogs, I just don't do it. In fact, sometimes it's kind of annoying. When I was writing Walt's Bridge it was frustrating because there were some phrases where Walt just really needed to swear. I couldn't do it though. Alas.

So how did I get around this in Flash? Well, there's a lot of, "James swore loudly." "James let off a string of swearwords." "James swore under his breath." It works--a character like James would swear, and swear often, so you get that idea and I don't have to type out the words.

And as far as sex, I just don't go there. There are some very mild innuendos (once again from James...honestly, that guy...if he weren't so dang charming!), but nothing graphic.

And the snippet is gone...you snooze, you lose, right?

DISASTER!

It's a bad, bad, bad thing folks--my shift key on the left side is sticking. Which means that half of my capitalizations don't come out right. And I can't stand it! I can't use the one on the right side, I've only ever used the left. I'm a very fast typist and it's messing up my groove so much I'm practically incoherent with frustration (not really, but it is VERY annoying). My ? are sneaking out /, my " are staying stubbornly forlorn as ', and I is quickly turning into i. The horrors!

I had a post planned today, but I might not be able to handle having to go back and fix things so often...

Also, on a side note, I'm continually amazed that it's not okay to go on profanity-laced tirades about minority groups--because really, it's NOT okay--but go after a religion and hey, you can say whatever uninformed, derogatory, and just plain mean things you want and it doesn't make you a bigot. I'm not looking for a discussion on this, I'm not referring to anything anyone who reads this blog has said, and I certainly don't want any negative comments about any person or group. It's just interesting to me.

Memememe--MEH?

It's true. Again. I'm sorry. Blame Whirl and all his delightful Britishness--really, I can't refuse him. Since I answered a similar meme recently, I'm skipping some questions. I'll reward you at the end with a truly cheesy picture though, okay?

What do you do before bedtime?

Read the scriptures, which, lemme tell you, I'm trying to get through the Old Testament for the first time, and whoo boy, it's pretty freaky. Usually if I read right before bed, it gets my mind going so much I can't sleep--same thing with writing--but reading the scriptures makes me tired. I probably shouldn't admit that. I also must, must, MUST peek in and make certain both kids are breathing and don't have fevers. Other than that, the usual--check the locks, kiss Hot Stuff goodnight, then lay in bed for an hour trying to get my brain to stop plotting new stories, planning really funny blog posts that I never end up writing, and otherwise racing and keeping me from sleeping. Stupid brain.

What is your favorite sound?

My kids making each other laugh. Really, there's nothing better.

What were your childhood fears?

I used to be afraid that my lungs were filling up with water and I would suffocate. Not while I was swimming or anything--just in general. Don't worry, it never happened.

What do you think of the person who tagged you?

This kind of reminds me of those junior high notes.

Kiersten:

Do you like me? Please check one.

Yes

No

(heart) Whirl

Seriously though, Whirl's brain absolutely mystifies me, which makes him a delight. In my brain he alternates between George Harrison from A Hard Day's Night, and Bertie Wooster. Also, he swears a lot, but I pretend like he doesn't.

What's the last song that got stuck in your head?

Well, thinking about the answer would inevitabley re-stick it in my head, so I'm not going to bother.

What is your dream for the future?

A couple of weeks ago I would have answered this differently, had I been answering honestly. Now, I just want to stick around and be a good mom and wife and watch my kids grow up happy and healthy. If I manage any other things, that'll be great.

And you've made it to the end of yet another session of things you don't actually want to know about me!

As for your reward, presenting "Well, the kids looked cute doing this pose, so I might as well try it out, too!" Happy October.

Safety First

We have VERY strict seatbelt laws around here. Even Jack the Pumpkin King is no exception.

October Question and Answer Time!

Whew! Well, that was fun. Thanks to all who submitted a question, or, in many cases, questions. Questions are in red. Answers are in whatever color I have my text automatically set to.

Renee Collins said...
Are you going to turn Ghostwriter into a novel?

The rate I'm going, I'll be lucky to turn it into a short story. Seriously though, no, it's just a short story.

Anthony said...
Yummy! I get to ask questions!

Yummy indeed.

Since you are writing YA, what YA novel had the most impact on your creativity?

You know, I honestly can't identify just one. The things I am writing are actually nothing like what I read as a YA (teenager, for non-writers). I mostly read high fantasy in junior high and then I read stuff like Faulkner, just because I felt like I should. It's only now as an adult that I've been reading actual YA. So I would say a lifetime of reading and absorbing beautiful language and engaging stories has impacted me the most.

What was your fist real kiss like? Do you think back on it and smile, or does it leave you with a sense of loss?

Goodness, that's an intense question. Well, I was sixteen and my first kiss was with a boy I liked very much. And since we dated for about two years, there was no sense of cheapness about it. So, sure, it makes me smile, mostly because the circumstances were goofy and I had no idea what to do. Where do I put my hands?? Am I supposed to move my lips?? WHAT IF SOMEONE SEES US?? Am I actually getting kissed right now?? Is this what all the fuss is about?

However, I can tell you an even better first kiss story. Turns out I was Hot Stuff's first kiss--that's right, mine are the only lips ever privileged by his. And, being very experienced, what with having kissed two other people in my whole life, I was expecting him to be as awkward in our first kiss as I was in mine. Well, he might not have been practicing, but apparently he had been observing, because man, that was a great first kiss.

Natalie said...
Questions Questions: What's your top vacation destination pick?

Anywhere that is neither too hot nor too cold, preferably sans our two delightful children. Really, at this point, I'd go anywhere if it were a genuine vacation. Ideally, that anywhere would be Greece, the UK, or a tour of Europe.

Would you ever write a memoir?

For someone else, sure. As for myself, well, I'm really not that interesting. Of course, having said that, I'm also two-hundred pages in. Kiersten: I'm Awesome--look for it soon in a bargain bin near you.

Do you think I'm crazy?

Clearly. You couldn't be my un-biological twin if you weren't. Also, I probably wouldn't like you as much.

What would you do if wizards appeared out of no where are tried to take over the world?

Ah, let 'em, muggles aren't doing that great of a job anyhow. And I bet wizards would be really bad writers, too, so I'd still have work.

Rychelle said...
this is the question i've started asking everyone: do you know any single, hilarious, thirty-something year old men? ;)

Alas, I've been off the market for going on seven years now, so I can't say as I do. If I meet any, however, they are being directed directly to your blog.

and what is your favorite romance novel? <3

I can honestly say I have never read a genuine romance novel. But my favorite romantic books include O, Pioneers! by Willa Cather, and other books I'm sure, none of which come to mind right now. I happen to loathe Romeo and Juliet, and will fight anyone who thinks it is a romance when, in fact, it is a tragedy and a morality tale.

Kayleigh said...
Hmmm...what to ask. Haha, I could ask you what I got asked at a recent ward FHE activity. "If you were any subatomic particle, what would you be and why?" The question made more sense when I found out the person who asked was a chemistry major. We'll save subatomic particles for another time and I'll ask this question instead: If you knew you were going to lose your hearing, and you only had 5 songs that you got to listen to one last time before you went completely deaf, what would they be and why?

Ha! What a question. It beats "What's your major?" I suppose, but only in terms of originality.

As to your actual question, music being pretty far down my list of things that are important in my life (although I do use it to write--it helps me get in a teenagery mindset), I would spend all of my time listening to my children talk, sing, and laugh, because those are the sounds I would miss most of all. Touching, I know.

*MARY* said...
Do Sarah and James end up together, like romantically together?

Look at you, Miss Knows-All-About-Flash now! I'm impressed. And I'm also not going to give it away. I will say that writing scenes between Sarah and James was SO fun, and their relationship features very heavily in the sequel. I think Sarah and James have an awesome dynamic--their dialogue is some of the best I've ever written (she says, modestly).

James is my favorite character to write because he's just so deliciously ambiguous. He's that guy you know--you KNOW--you shouldn't date, but that you know you probably will anyway because he's just too dang charming. And a jerk. But such a charming jerk...

Sorry. I wrote a new scene for Flash the other day and it's wormed its way back into my brain. I had forgotten what an addictive book it was.

hot stuff said...
How you get so hot?

I've heard it said that after a while of being married to each other, spouses begin to resemble one another. So clearly you're rubbing off on me.

Ashley said...
What is your new James scene about?

I decided that near the very end of the book I needed to give Sarah and James one last scene together, where he gives her a way out of the whole mess. Plus, well, I missed him. Not as much as Natalie missed him though, who demanded he be shirtless in the scene. Alas, James agreed--he is SO vain.

Crazy McWife said...
Did you have an imaginary friend as a kid? If so, what were they like?

No imaginary friends per se, but I did treat my stuffed animals as though they were real. In fact, it got to be something of a trial. I'd have some on my bed and some on the floor, but then I'd start thinking, how would I like it if I had been tossed on the floor instead of snuggled up on the bed? And then I started worrying that maybe the ones on the floor were getting bitter...and thinking of doing mean things to get their revenge. Then I got scared. So I ended up sleeping with every single stuffed animal I owned taking up the bulk of my bed, while I cowered on the very edge.

Hmmm...no wonder my kids have crazy imaginations.

Whirlochre said...
If aliens landed and you got to be Richard Dreyfuss, what would you take onto their ship to amaze them?

If aliens landed on the earth, I would ask to please be someone other than Richard Dreyfuss. Maybe that other guy from Jaws, the one who sings the "Show me the way to go home. I'm tired and I want to go to bed. I had a little drink about an hour ago, and it's gone straight to my head," song that I sing to my kids a lot, even though I don't drink, because that makes it even funnier in my head.

So I guess I'd just show them Jaws. Maybe they'd like that song a lot, too, and decide to spare us.

JaneyV said...
OK. Do you have a favourite colour (or even color)?

Well, which is it? Colour, or color? Because I've never had a favorite colour, although I should. My favorite color is green.

If you could chose a spot anywhere in the world on which to build your dream home, would you still wear sweat pants all the time?

Absolutely. It wouldn't be a dream home without them, now, would it?

No seriously - I do mean, where would it be?

See, this is the hard part. I can think of all sorts of locations I would love to live, but in the end I'd want to be by my family and by Hot Stuff's family. Which is geographically impossible. So no dream-come-trues there for me.

It's That Time Again!

What time again, you ask? Question and Answer Time! Why? Because I said so. And it's my blog, so I get to say so. And because it's an easy weekend post. So please, submit your questions in the comments or in an email. If you are wondering what kinds of questions to ask, please see previous question and answer posts by clicking on the label to this blog. Then, ask entirely different questions. Anything goes, but keep it clean. This is a PG blog, folks.

And if your first question is, "Why are you so lazy that you do lame question and answer posts to generate content?" my reply is, because I'm putting together a photo essay for you that will take like five whole freaking minutes, and I'm not made of time, folks. Also, I think they're funny.

If you don't see your question show up in the comments, that's because I'm saving them for the post. No worries, I'm still getting them.

The Downside of Internal Bleeding

I know, I know, you're thinking, "Wait, there's a downside? It sounded pretty all-around awesome to me!"

And it was, really, but there has been one downside. I've always been pretty laid back about my health; I don't even have a personal doctor. I rarely get sick, and when I do, I tough it out because moms don't get sick days. (Which STINKS by the way; forget universal healthcare, give me a candidate who offers sick days and maternity leave for stay-at-home-moms and they've got my vote. Also, if they were to give me chocolate, that would serve to secure my vote as well. Good chocolate though, none of that cheap waxy junk. That would make me vote for the other guy.)

Ahem. Anyway. As I was saying, I've never been one to freak out about my health. But this experience has turned me into a raging hypochondriac. Now every time I have a sharp pain in my stomach my immediate, instinctive reaction is HOLY CRAP I'M GOING TO DIE! My next reaction is to roll my eyes and tell myself to shut up.

However, as long as I'm worrying about ridiculous things, here's something else you never knew you should be terrified of: dolphins jumping up and knocking you unconscious. Malicious creatures, the lot of them. Who would have guessed? So I give you two paranoias to work into your daily worry: stomach pain and dolphins. Both can kill you. My money's on the dolphins doing you in, though.

Let Me Read You a Story

Once again, I owe it all to Natalie, who converted thingamajigs into whatsits and made the whole thing work. For those of you who are new to the blog, my friend Robin organizes readings of our work or others. (Remember how my blog is actually about writing? Allegedly, at least.) This time we were supposed to read from a book that we love. If you are interested in hearing more people reading you can go on over to Robin's site, where everyone who did one is listed. I will warn you, however, that some of them may contain language. Well, all of them contain language. That's rather the point, isn't it? But some of them contain strong language.

This is a selection from Norton Juster's The Phantom Tollbooth, which is one of the most BRILLIANT children's novels ever written. I'm serious, it's amazing. It's funny, infinitely clever, and even profound. This book makes me really happy and really depressed, because I love it but I know I could never write something like it. Well done, Mister Juster! And if you are nodding to yourself and saying, "Hey, I loved that movie when I was little!" please imagine me slapping you silly. Do not think that. Go and buy the book or check it out from the library or steal it from your little siblings, whatever, just read it, and read it now, and don't talk to me about movies like that's somehow a substitute. The first person to mention how they didn't read the book but they saw the movie in the comments LOSES. Loses what, you might ask? EVERYTHING.

And, as I'm sure you'll pick up on during the clip, I am terrible at maintaining voices. Whenever I try to do voices for characters they are all over the place. My poor kids. And HA! Thanks to Natalie's comment I've only just now realized the delicious irony of posting this particular section on a BLOG of all things. You'll understand when you listen.

FYI: There is no video, just sound.

Update: Good heavens, people, I can't believe you've never heard of this book. It is a classic. Go order it now.

I'm Sorry

Do you ever post something thinking, "Tee hee, I'm so clever!" and then later realize that what would have been funny or cute in person comes across as rude in type?

No?

Just me then. I thought so. And it was on someone else's blog, too. What a jerk I can be. Sorry, random girl I don't know who seems very nice, I really didn't mean to come across that way.

My mouth usually knows when to shut up; apparently my fingers don't have the same filter. The guilt, however, doesn't care whether my words are written or typed; it comes out in full force regardless.

Madd Skillz

First of all, can we establish that I hate creative spelling. Hate it. Hate it in song titles, hate it in lolcatz and all their ilk (sorry world, I just don't think it's funny), hate it in names, hate it wherever I find it. Incorrect spelling I can handle--deliberately wrong spelling makes me krayzee.

Now that that's out of the way, today I was invited to look at someone's blog that features all of these different etsy sites that are giving things away for free if you just leave a comment, any comment. (Wow, that was a long, involved sentence. Not self-involved though. A self-involved sentence would probably be more along the lines of: Wow, I am the single greatest sentence in the world, and definitely more important than any other sentence you could be reading right now.) So as I was briefly perusing the long list of things you don't need but should want, I was amazed at how industrious people are. Not only are they absurdly crafty, but then they go to the effort of posting it, hawking it, and trying to drum up customers. That's a lot of work, folks.

Then I started feeling bad about myself. I can't knit ridiculous but oddly adorable stocking caps for babies, or create card holders out of wire and beads and who-knows-what-else, and I can't even wear jewelry without feeling stupid, much less make it from scratch. I used to think I was really good at creating babies, because the first two turned out so beautiful, but then my last attempt nearly killed me, so I guess that's out. Also, it would be illegal to start an etsy store for.

However, after thinking about it for a while, I realized that I do, in fact, have skills. And not just bo staff skills. No, I have writing skills. And some of you may be snorting, thinking, "Yeah, a lot of good THAT does her, she only has six followers! Lame!" To which I respond, "Shut up!" I mean, to which I respond, last night I made an average of sixty dollars an hour WRITING. That's write, I mean, right! Man, I love freelancing. It may not be very exciting or sexy, but the pay rocks.

Take that, etsy!

(Disclaimer: I think etsy stores are great, and really admire people with that combination of creativity and industry. I just had to feel better about myself by pretending people care that writing well is a valuable and marketable skill.)

Waiting

While my inbox remains stubbornly empty, I find myself having dreams of receiving emails or even chat conversations from agents offering me representation.

Wow, could I have more boring dreams??

So--and please don't hate me--I have nothing to offer today but an anecdote. Heaven help us, I know.

Yesterday my in-laws took the kids to Disneyland. Nayna, in her excitement, detailed every ride they went on and everything they saw. Dojo, however, has had only one thing to say: "I liked the tram." Yes, the tram that takes you from the parking to the entrance--that is the only thing that stuck in his brain. So I guess my two-year-old already has it figured out...it's all about the journey.

Ha! I know! ANOTHER Very Special Message! But this one was tongue-in-cheek, so you'll forgive me, right?

Right?

Dang, you're never coming back, are you? I PROMISE I WAS KIDDING! I don't really think it's all about the journey! Give me a destination over a journey any day, baby...

Unless it's a tram ride, because really, those things are AWESOME.

Make Me Happy

***WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS GRATIUTOUS AND FLAGRANT AMOUNTS OF "MY KIDS ARE SO CUTE" CONTENT. READ ON AT YOUR OWN RISK***

So, I've come to an important realization. Oddly enough, it's one I've had before, and one I'm sure I'll have to have again. The realization is that I am in charge of my own happiness.

(Cue sappy, this-is-the-point-of-our-very-special-episode music. Take a moment to nod, wiping a tear away from your eye and saying, "She's so right!")

Let me give you a couple of examples from this weekend. I have a halloween quilt, and one of the patches has candy corn on it. For those of you not familiar with candy corn (do they have that particular atrocity in the UK?) it's basically solidified sugar in a multi-colored, vaguely conical shape. Nayna, who has a crazy imagination, pretends to pull the candy off of the quilt and eat it. Dojo, however, can't reach the quilt, so Nayna has to get it down for him. Well, I guess yesterday it wasn't tasting as good, because Dojo came running back to find me, crying and pointing to his mouth. Finally I understood, as he put my finger in his mouth and made me pull out the candy corn because he didn't want it. Yes, the IMAGINARY candy corn. I had to pull the IMAGINARY candy out of his mouth because he didn't want it but Nayna gave it to him anyway.

(And on the subject of my kids being upset by their imaginations, Nayna once asked for a pretend kitty, but then it wasn't doing what she wanted [even though it was IMAGINARY] and upset her so much I had to lock it in the cupboard. And she would periodically ask me to make sure it was still in the cupboard. So maybe this is actually making you think more along the lines of Kiersten's kids are insane, and less along the lines of Kiersten's kids are cute. Still, they're entertaining.)

The second example is even though he works twelve-hour days, Hot Stuff took full kid duty this weekend, letting me sleep in and take a couple of naps (I'm still not up to full speed yet). And he did the dishes, AND, hello, he's HOT.

So I got to thinking about how I have a particular thought process I frequently go through that's like this: "I need something to change. I just need something to change, something good to happen, and that will make me happy." And, as I'm sure you can guess, usually that something is getting an agent. (Actually, recently that something was getting pregnant, but we all know how THAT turned out. Not happy.) If I can just get an agent, that would rock so much that I would be happy and all of the annoyances and inconveniences in my life would melt away and not matter anymore.

Yeah, I know, it's not true. I mean, don't get me wrong--I still want an agent, I still want to get Flash published, and I'm going to pursue it--but I'm not going to let that be a reason for me to procrastinate being content. Because when I base that in things that I can't control, I'm not a happy person. I can't control not having a house or a car, but I don't let it bother me, because I accept that it will happen eventually, and stressing or being annoyed won't speed it up. So I just rock the double stroller. I can't control whether or not we'll be able to have any more kids, so I'm just hopeful that we will, and in the meantime, I know how lucky I am to have the two that we've got.

Okay, let's pause and bask in the feel-good warmth. All toasty? Moving on then.

So, to sum up my realization: I don't need anything to make me happy. I'm just going to be happy. And if good things happen, all the better. And if they don't, well, I don't really need them, do I?

***END OF SAPPINESS. FEEL FREE TO MOVE ON WITH YOUR LIVES. I've got to go stop Dojo from eating Baby Jesus. Don't ask***

Headlines Give Me False Hope

Sometimes when I read headlines like, "Obama attacks McCain on health care," I find myself wishing that it was a literal, physical attack. Because really, wouldn't that make the whole campaign more interesting?

Bring it on! Boxing, fencing, the old Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton method, or even just fistfighting. Honestly, I don't know who my money would be on, but watching Obama and McCain, or, better still, Palin and Biden duke it out for 90 minutes instead of blah-blah-blahing would be WAY cooler. And we could get that "Let's get ready to RUMBLE!" guy, who gets paid like twenty-thousand dollars every time he says that phrase. Man, I want that guy's job.

Actually, I think my money would be on Palin in any matchup. You betcha! (Insert wink here.) That woman scares me.

So, since their platforms and arguments are all pretty arbitrary anyway, how would YOU like to see the winner chosen? Violence, like poor, messed up Kiersten? Perhaps a spelling bee? (Dude, Obama would SO win that one.) Maybe a dance-off! Man, that would be awesome. The country would be a more entertaining place if I were in charge, that's for sure.

Ghostwriter

By Kiersten White

I rolled my eyes.

Well, okay, technically I don’t have any eyes. But the intention was there—if I had eyes, I would have been rolling them. The setup was just so tacky. Way too many candles filled the room with smoke, and the few lights were draped with filmy red cloth. She had even thrown in some fancy, flowered pentagrams this time.

Really—pentagrams? Give me a break. Clearly this was a low-rent establishment, and I hated that Rose’s was the only service that saw fit to call on me so far. I was better than this, better than Rose and her ridiculous showboating, better than her cheap, boring customers and their cheap, boring lives.

Yet, here I was. I could have just ignored the summons. But I’ll admit, it felt good to hear my name again. And even if the work wasn’t interesting, it was still something. What can I say, writing was my life. Too bad I died.

Just Kidding!

I've got something, and it's this:

Good Riddance, September!

You dragged on forever. You brought me some of the worst days of my life. And you tried to kill me.

Hooray for October!

I've Got Nothing

It's true: nothing.

There is not a creative spark in my brain right now. But I am pleased to say that after a two-and-a-half hour nap this morning, I feel nearly normal. Which is nearly wonderful.

This is how not-functioning my clever switch is today--to entertain myself, I took pictures of my technicolor tummy (see the pretty yellows, blues, greens, and purples!) and sent them to my poor, unsuspecting family. However, I do, in fact, have some self-restraint left, as I am not posting them on this blog.

Even I know when it's better to post nothing than a disgusting and ridiculous something. So, I'll leave you with my favorite nursery rhyme.

There was a little girl
who had a little curl
right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
she was very, very good,
but when she was bad she was horrid.